Determining Possession (Connecticut Kings Book 3)

by Christina C Jones

  “Now which one of us fucking crazy?” he asked, stepping into my face with an expression so intense I took a step back, but he grabbed me, hauling me against his chest. “If your ass thinks you’re about to have my child by yourself, I promise you I’m not the crazy one.”

  “But you just said—”

  “Man, fuck what I said! Erase that bullshit,” he growled. “Wil,” he said, his tone suddenly desperate as he cupped my face in his hands again. “A hypothetical baby is one thing. My best friend carrying my child though? A baby with you… that’s something else entirely, Champ.”

  My heart slammed to the front of my chest. “Ramsey… seriously?” I breathed.

  “Seriously,” he answered, and then his mouth was on mine, and I was so full I was sure I was going to burst. I started sobbing again, and between that, and him kissing me, I could barely catch a breath, but that was okay. I felt so high on happiness I wasn’t even sure I needed to breathe. In that moment, it honestly seemed like pure joy was enough to sustain me.

  Suddenly, he swept me up into his arms and started down the hall, and I laughed. “Wait, what are you doing?” I asked.

  He stopped moving to look at me like I’d lost it. “Uh, I’m about to make love to the mother of my child – what do you think I’m doing?”

  “What about the interview?”

  He sucked his teeth, then finished his trek to his room, where he lowered me to the bed, then crawled on top of me. “We’ll get back to it later. Gotta scratch most of it anyway.”

  This was it.

  First game of the regular season, and I was sitting in the locker room, surrounded by teammates who were loud, hyped, ready to play.

  My head was across the country, with the mother of my child.

  I’d left her sick – sick as hell, actually – and in the care of her own mother, who assured me Wil would be fine. In the week since she’d told me she was pregnant, her symptoms had virtually exploded, and I now understood that “morning sickness” was a misnomer. Wil was sick all the time.

  Her mother, Carla, had given me a reassuring pat on the back as she sent me out the door on Wil’s orders, to make sure I got on the plane with the team. “It’ll pass,” she promised. “This is part of the process. Sickness is a good sign, believe it or not – her body reacting to the pregnancy hormones, which means… still pregnant.”

  They knew better than I did, so… I got on the plane.

  But still – neither my mind nor my heart were going to be out on that field unless I got it together, and I needed both if I was going to turn my shit around the way I’d promised the team, and the fans, that I would. I had one game, this game, to get it together, or one of those hungry ass rookies would be in my spot, and I couldn’t even be mad about it.

  I just didn’t want the shit to happen.

  Looking around the locker room, my eyes landed on Trent and Jordan, who were laughing about something. I grabbed my helmet from the bench beside me and hopped up, walking over to where they were.

  “Jordan… let me holler at Trent for a second, bruh,” I said, and they both looked at me with questioning eyes before Jordan nodded.

  “Yeah… you good?” he asked, and I nodded, even though I was sure my face probably told a different story, judging from Trent motioning for me to follow him to a quieter spot, while Jordan moved on to join the growing excitement from our other team members.

  We could hear them on the other side of the lockers, but Trent was focused. “You look like you’re about to puke, nigga,” he said. “What’s up with you?”

  I chuckled. “Man… don’t even really know where to start, but… I know you and Jade, you just had your baby girl.”

  Immediately, a smile broke over his face. “Yeah.”

  “Right. So… dude, how do you keep your head in the game when you know… you’re thinking about your wife, thinking about baby girl, and Kyree too. Your family. Like… how do you stay focused?”

  Trent frowned. “I feel like there’s something you aren’t saying right now.”

  I scrubbed a hand over my face, and then pushed out a sigh before I glanced around to make sure nobody was lurking before I told him something I hadn’t told anyone – not even Reggie or Clayton yet, because Wil was so insistent on keeping it quiet until she got through her first trimester.

  “Wil is pregnant.”

  Instantly, Trent’s eyes went wide. “Yo… you serious?!”

  “Yeah.”

  “You got Wil Cunningham, goddamn America’s Olympic Sweetheart, knocked up? No wonder your ass was grinning so hard in that interview,” he said, cracking up so hard that he clutched his stomach.

  “Nigga, relax,” I hissed, fighting the urge to start laughing myself, just because it was contagious.

  “My bad, Ramsey,” he said, straightening up, but still chuckling. “I guess we should’ve known though, after those pictures – that looked like some very “we finna make a baby” shit y’all was doing down in Bora Bora.”

  “Bali.”

  He shrugged. “Same difference. But nah, in seriousness – congratulations, man. Wil is a good girl – she’s a good look for you, man.”

  “Thank you, but… it’ll be an even better look if I can keep my ass on this team. But I can’t even think about a goddamn football when she’s back at home, sick and shit. That’s why I’m asking you – cause you’re on your job, every week. How do you do it?”

  Trent nodded. “Aiight, so… I saw your interview, right? My lady had me watch it with her while she was up feeding the baby, and you had her all misty and shit, talking about how your mother was your “why” on the field. Well… Jade, Kyree, baby girl… those are my “whys”. I love the game, passionate about it, all that, but there ain’t nothing like going out here to do this shit for my family, and set them up for life. I wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth, man, and I know you didn’t grow up with shit either, I’ve heard your story. You know what that shit feels like – and I know you don’t ever want your lady, or your seed, to experience that. So real talk… Ramsey, you gotta stop bullshitting. I’ve seen your tape nigga – Just like you used to get out there and run the ball like your mama’s life depended on it, you gotta replace that with Wil, and your unborn child. You ain’t gotta keep looking for your why. It’s looking you right in the face.”

  I needed that.

  I didn’t know I needed it until I got it, but as soon as I absorbed those words, it made perfect sense. I didn’t even verbally respond – I nodded – but honestly, words weren’t needed.

  Action was.

  So that’s what the fuck I did.

  I went out there and ran the ball, and ran niggas over, and ran the plays not like my life depended on it, but like Wil’s did, and like the life she was cultivating needed me to get my shit together. If this was how I was providing for them, how I was making my name, the legacy I was leaving behind for my kid… I couldn’t half –ass it.

  I was gonna do the shit like I meant it.

  I walked off the field with more tackles than I’d cared to keep track of, 109 rushing yards and two touchdowns to add to my stats.

  Back in the locker room, Trent caught my attention just before a reporter approached me, and tipped up his chin. I returned the gesture, grateful for the wisdom he’d given me – words I’d taken out onto the field, and dominated.

  I got through the post-game interviews as quickly as I could, wanting nothing more to get to my phone and check on Wil. As soon as I picked it up though, a text from her was already on the screen, and I grinned so wide it made my cheeks hurt.

  “Well damn. If I’d known a baby was all you needed to remind the world why they called you Sledgehammer, I would’ve paid a little more attention to my body. ;) Great game. Congratulations. – The Champ”

  Thirteen

  “So, you know this baby is going to be like, some type of super-baby, right?”

  I looked up from the pregnancy magazine I was pretending to read to raise
an eyebrow at Naima, seated beside me. “Uh… what?”

  “Come on, don’t tell me you haven’t thought about that. Between you and Ramsey – and goodness, your parents – this is going to be one strong, fast baby. You sure you want to breastfeed?”

  I couldn’t even form words to respond to that, so I just laughed. I knew Naima’s current silliness was for my benefit – her way of trying to cheer me up. She further confirmed that when she reached over, grabbing and squeezing my hand.

  “He’ll be here for the next one,” she said, as if she’d read my mind. And she was right – most likely, Ramsey would be the person by my side at the next prenatal appointment. But this was the first one. Although Naima was one of my favorite people in the world, the only reason she was here, instead of Ramsey, was because of an away game and a delayed flight.

  “Is your phone fully charged?” I asked her. “And here’s mine. Make sure you get everything on video, I don’t want him to miss anything.”

  “I know, Wil.”

  “And make sure your finger isn’t covering the mic, so he can hear.”

  “Wil. I know.”

  “And make sure—I’m doing a lot right now, aren’t I?”

  Naima laughed. “You are, but I’m going to let you have your moment, since I know you’re on edge.”

  I frowned. “Me? On edge? I’m not on edge. I’m breezy,” I said, then immediately flinched as the door to the waiting room swung open. I damn near fell out of my chair craning my neck to see who was coming in, and didn’t relax until I saw that it was just another doctor in the practice, who barely looked up before continuing past us to get to the offices.

  “Sooo breezy,” Naima teased, shaking her head.

  “Well, can you blame me?” I asked. “Can you imagine the headline if the wrong person walks in here, snapping pictures of me at the OB?”

  “You’re the one who insisted on doing it this way, like you’re not having a baller’s baby. Don’t you celebrities get private home visits for this?”

  I scoffed. “I requested a private time slot, at a pretty exclusive doctor. That’s the best I can do. I’m not that kind of celebrity yet.”

  “And yet, you consistently get followed now.”

  “Only because of those damn pictures.”

  Ugh.

  Before that, sure, people knew me, but not like… knew me. I wasn’t doing red carpets, eating at celebrity hot spots to be seen, etc. I was just Wil, the former Olympian turned journalist, and if someone randomly recognized me, fine.

  Not so much anymore.

  The release of those pictures had made me more recognizable, and it didn’t help that pictures of me out and about ended up on fashion blogs, dissecting my clothes, on hair blogs wondering what products I used, etc – all in addition to the whole “relationship goal” thing, which wasn’t showing signs of slowing down.

  On the bright side, my viewership and social media growth for “Wil in the Field” were both doing great. So… maybe I couldn’t complain too much.

  “Hey,” Naima said, in a mischievous tone that let me know something crazy was about to come out of her mouth. “What if that was the day you got pregnant? Like, that exact session. Everybody has maternity pictures. You have conception pictures.”

  “I cannot stand your ass!” I howled at her, then clapped a hand over my mouth, trying not to laugh, or maybe cry. “Why would you say that!?”

  She shrugged. “I’m just saying, the two of you looked like you were trying to make a baby. Your goddamn foot was on his shoulder! Like, you may as well have hung an “insert sperm here” sign off your clit, you know, so it would be in the perfect spot right above the opening.”

  “What is wrong with you Mimi!?” I shrieked as she sat back, looking immensely proud of herself. If cheering me up / keeping me occupied was her goal, she was definitely doing a good job at it.

  Well… the best she could.

  The truth was, even if Ramsey were here, instead of on a plane, I would still be a nervous wreck. Or, trying not to be a nervous wreck, even though my mind was running through all kinds of nightmare scenarios.

  What if something was wrong?

  What if there was no heartbeat?

  What if the test had been a false positive, and my pregnancy symptoms were just in my head?

  I wasn’t really sure how I would react to any of those – I was just hoping it wouldn’t be necessary. When Ramsey had called me earlier, letting me know he wouldn’t be back on time to make the appointment with me, he’d taken the time to calm me down, and then prayed with me, which gave me a little more peace than I’d had before.

  Voices from down the hall where the exam rooms were caught my attention, and Naima and I both sat up a little straighter. I was a little early for my appointment, but it was still after normal hours – I expected to be the only one here, and the receptionist hadn’t given any warning, even though the whole office was well-apprised of my special situation.

  A little feeling of dread swelled in my chest as the voices grew louder, meaning they were coming closer. It was two women – two pairs of heels click-clacking against the polished floor. As soon as they came around the corner, laughing, I realized why I’d felt so uneasy.

  One of the women was Dr. Violet Cho, who’d come highly recommended by Ashley. The name had thrown me off a little, since I was in the market for a Black woman doctor, but after a scolding reminder that race and nationality weren’t the same thing, Ashley eased my mind with the addendum that Dr. Cho was her sorority sister.

  The other woman was Lena.

  Horror-movie music played in the back of my mind as Lena and Dr. Cho looked up, noticing Naima and I in the waiting area. Both women smiled, but Lena’s presence sent my agitation level through the roof. What the hell was she doing here?

  “I don’t have to guess which of you is my patient,” Dr. Cho grinned, as Naima and I stood up. “I recognize this face from TV, and you’re even more beautiful in person, Wil,” she said, pulling me into an unexpectedly warm hug. “Maybe your pregnancy will convince Ashley and Naima to come and experience the miracle of science?”

  Naima’s eyes went big. “Oh, no thank you,” she laughed, then accepted a hug of her own. “I think we’ll leave that to the real grown ups around here.”

  “Oh please,” Dr. Cho laughed. “Wil, Naima, this is my colleague, Dr. Lena McBride. I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, but she needed a consult for one of her patients.”

  “Yes, my apologies,” Lena said, in that smoky-sweet voice that men seemed to go wild for, as she extended a hand to me, and then Naima. “I start talking about bodies and get a little too enthusiastic. I’ve met Wil before, but not you Naima. It’s a pleasure.”

  “You’ve met Wil?” Dr. Cho asked, and Lena smirked.

  “Yes, back when I was dating Ramsey Bishop, the two of them were working together.”

  Dr. Cho’s light brown skin flushed red as she nodded awkwardly, catching the obvious elephant in the room now that it was right on her toes. “Oh, yes. That makes sense.”

  Lena looked from her back to me, her sleek ponytail bobbing behind her as she moved her head. “And now… wow. Women usually only come to the lovely Dr. Cho for one reason, so I hope I’m not premature in offering my congratulations. I remember Ramsey talking about wanting kids,” she sighed. “I had to let him know it wasn’t happening with me. But anyway… he didn’t mention this when I ran into him a few weeks ago.”

  “You talked to Ramsey?” I asked, in a sharper tone than I intended.

  Lena’s eyebrow cocked up. “Yes, but please don’t let that raise your blood pressure. You must not have seen last night’s episode of the show.” She held up her left hand, showing us a blindingly large ring, that was undoubtedly real. “Finally announced my engagement to the world.”

  “I’ve never seen your show,” I lied, and Lena’s smirk grew into a grin.

  “Of course you haven’t. But besides that… Ramsey is quite enamored with you.
Even if I was the type to chase other people’s men, he made it quite clear that he isn’t available for catching. Congratulations on that too. Much better than corny ass Darius Hayward, ugh,” she said, with a look of disgust that I felt in my chest. “That man did you a favor, because no. Anyway – thanks for the advice, Vi. I’ll follow up with you later. Ladies,” she said, addressing herself to me and Naima, “nice running into you. And don’t worry Wil. Secret’s safe with me.”

  With a wink, she was off down the hall, leaving the scent of Tom Ford perfume in her wake. That was my first time ever really interacting with her, and… it felt weird that I somehow… didn’t hate her.

  That can’t be right.

  “You work… closely, with her?” I asked Dr. Cho. Maybe in another situation, I wouldn’t have been bold enough to speak up about it, but this was something pretty damned important. Before I really knew Ramsey, I’d hate-watched Lena for several seasons, and didn’t trust her, at all.

  Dr. Cho nodded. “Yes, I’ve known Dr. McBride for many years. Why?”

  “Oh, it’s just… I don’t know how comfortable I am with that, after seeing her on her show. It doesn’t exactly leave a good impression, and if you work closely with her…”

  The doctor’s eyebrows went up, before she nodded. “I believe I understand. But, I’ve never seen a single episode of the show – I didn’t want the magic of television to color my perception of someone I know personally to be funny, smart, and a very good young doctor. But, Dr. McBride isn’t an obstetrician, and she belongs to a different practice, so if your concern is about her having access to any of your personal records, anything like that, I assure you that won’t be the case. Ethics are important, to both of us. You have nothing to be concerned about.”