Love on the Highlight Reel (Connecticut Kings Book 2)

by Christina C Jones

  It helped that she got excited as hell when I agreed to do it, jumping to wrap her arms around my neck for a hug. This Nicki – sexy, uninhibited, passionate, feminine, but still undeniably strong, witty, proficient and analytical – was exactly who I’d uncovered back in college, and I was… grateful, honestly, to have her back.

  So there we were.

  “Think this tablecloth is long enough for me to get away with making you come under the table?”

  I suppressed a grin as Nicki’s eyes wide, and she grabbed her glass of water.

  The plates had already been cleared, the check paid, and now we were just sitting there, the table strewn with Kings’ charity paperwork that served as our “official” reason for being out together.

  “We both know I make too much noise for that, but thank you for the offer,” she replied, the twinkle in her eyes betraying her stern tone. We’d been flirting for the whole meal, teasing each other, battling to see who could make the other break character.

  So far, we were tied.

  “So this went pretty well, right?” she asked, with a hopeful inflection in her voice. “Despite your terrible behavior, I think we managed to look innocent enough.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “My behavior? Nicki, lets be real. You’re the damn troublemaker. Trying to get me to bend you over this table.”

  “How so?”

  “Sucking on that water straw like it’s my dick in your mouth, for starters.” I let a satisfied smirk drift to my face as Nicki choked a little on her water and started coughing. “Are you okay?”

  “Screw you,” she managed to sputter, between coughing and laughing, and I grinned wide.

  “I plan to let you do that exact thing later tonight.”

  Nicki was just getting ready to fire back a response when her expression changed, and she rolled her eyes. A moment later, Cedrick Rochester walked up to our table.

  “Nicole,” he said, like he didn’t see me sitting there. That was strike one. “I seem to be bumping into you all over the place.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Yes, you do. If I didn’t know better I’d think you were following me.”

  He laughed, but Nicki kept that slightly-disgusted look on her face. “Could you blame me if I was? You’re looking gorgeous today, as always.”

  “Well, when you’re having lunch with Jordan Johnson, you have to expect to get photographed. Can’t look busted, can you?”

  Cedrick cast a dismissive glance in my direction. “Oh. Hello.”

  I just looked at his corny ass, instead of responding, cause that dry greeting plus his blatant flirting was strike two.

  “Is this business or… other?” Cedrick asked, directing the question at Nicki, who laughed.

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  I was surprised by that response, but knew Nicki was still ticked about those pictures from a few weeks back. Ole boy was lucky she was in a good mood.

  Cedrick kinda jerked his head back in reaction to her words. He recovered quickly, smoothing a hand over his tie. “Well, yes, actually. I would. I was hoping to speak to you about something… one on one.”

  “There is nothing we could possibly have to discuss. Now, if you’d excuse me—”

  “Surely you can spare a few moments for your ex-fiancé,” he said, with too much bass in his voice. If that hadn’t been strike three, that little “ex-fiancé” comment would have. His bitch ass knew it wasn’t common knowledge, and had no reason to spread that shit around.

  “Ex-fiancé? Wow,” I said, like I was hearing it for the first time. Nicki flicked her gaze in my direction, but I looked away, zeroing in on Cedrick. “That’s an interesting coincidence. Nicki and I used to date too, back in college.” I didn’t flinch when she kicked me under the table. “Just like you… not so common knowledge.”

  Cedrick scoffed. “Well, I’m sure your little relationship was fun and all, but I doubt there was any resemblance between her experience with a college kid and a grown ass man.”

  “Yo, I’m sure there wasn’t. We were just catching up, now that we finished our business, and she was telling me that she hadn’t been with a real man since college. So nah, no resemblance at all.”

  “Jesus,” Nicki muttered, then snatched up her glass of water to take a sip.

  Cedrick’s mouth dropped open, and he looked at Nicki like he was expecting her to say something. And hell… I was too, but she shrugged, and kept drinking her water, staring down the glass like the answer to life was at the bottom.

  Before then, I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen a grown man get flustered, but Cedrick turned red, and sputtered for a full five seconds trying to produce a response. When none came, he scowled at me and Nicki, then stormed off.

  For a few seconds, neither of us said anything, but then Nicki put down her glass and gave me the kind of look you get right before getting sent to the principal’s office.

  “You enjoyed that, didn’t you? That little dick-measuring display?”

  “I feel like that question is a trap.”

  Her mouth spread into a smile I wasn’t sure if I could trust or not. “No trap. Just a question… that I already know the answer to. Of course you enjoyed it.”

  “I’m not about to lie and say I didn’t, but…”- I swiped a hand over my face – “in retrospect, maybe I went a little too far. You mad at me?”

  She lifted an eyebrow, and twisted her mouth like she was thinking about it, then shook her head. “Nah. At least you didn’t hit him.”

  “Seriously?” I questioned, genuinely surprised. “You’re not pissed about me bragging about dicking you down?”

  “He was way out of pocket.” Nicki shrugged. “He needed a reality check, and besides that… I can’t promise I wouldn’t have said something slick if it was reversed, so…”

  “Wow. Look at you examining all angles and shit,” I teased, which brought a smug grin to her face.

  “Hey, I take this best girlfriend ever thing very seriously.”

  I tipped my head to the side. “Best girlfriend ever thing?” Nicki’s eyes went wide, and she went for her glass again, but I snatched it away before she could. “Are you… did you… is your competitive ass trying to beat yourself at being a good girlfriend?”

  “I…” – her lips moved for a few seconds like she was trying to come up with an answer, then she stared me right in the face like she was trying to gauge the right response. “Um… maaaaybeee…yes? But, if you really think about that for a second—”

  “Nicki, stop,” I said, shaking my head. “You are… crazy.” I glanced around, then looked back at her. “And I love your crazy ass.”

  A huge smile blossomed on her face, and she rubbed her leg against mine under the table. “I’m the best girlfriend ever, Jordan. You kind of have to. I’m playing,” she added, giggling at the skeptical look on my face. “But I love you too.”

  “You better.”

  “Stop playing. I thought we were homies. You can’t come help a brotha out?” I asked, unable to help the loud, hacking cough I let out after I finished the question.

  “We are homies. And you have other homies. Why aren’t you asking them to help you?!”

  I groaned, rolling over onto my back in the bed. “Those niggas wouldn’t be any help. Sit around eating up my food while I lay back here and waste away. Men don’t take care of each other like that.”

  “Jordan… at worst, you have the flu, but more likely a common ass cold. Stop it.”

  “You don’t,” – sneeze—“hear how sick I am?” I asked.

  “You sound like you have cotton stuffed up your nose, so yeah, I hear it.”

  “Aiight then, Cin. Like I said… you can’t help a brother out? Some soup, some medicine, something?”

  Cin sucked her teeth. “Like you don’t have Kendrick there, who could easily run and pick something up for you.”

  “He’s my security. How is he gonna secure me if he ain’t here? Somebody come bust my shit up cause I sent him on
a soup run.”

  “I’m really questioning why I talk to you right now. Where is Trent? Your sister? Your mother? Your girlfriend?”

  I closed my eyes. “Trent has his own shit to tend to, first of all. And second of all, I already told you that was weird. My sister is over in Asia or something with my mom sewing kimonos or some shit. And Cole… doesn’t do sick.”

  She’d drilled that into me back in college. She hated being sick, and wasn’t trying to catch anything, so if I had something going on, I needed to find somebody else to take care of it. Usually, I kept close enough contact with a woman or two who was willing to play nurse if I needed that, so I was covered. Now though… I didn’t think that route was such a good idea.

  “Well, her man is sick, so she’s going to have to learn to do it anyway,” Cin shot back. “First of all, I’m busy. I have a phone meeting with a realtor in thirty minutes, and a job interview through video conference in a little over two hours. I don’t have time.”

  I sucked my teeth. “And second?”

  “Second, fool are you crazy? You’re not gonna have Front Office mad at me cause you have me out here taking care of her man. I’m on her good side after that birthday thing. I’d like to stay there.”

  “That’s exactly why it would be fine,” I insisted. “You were completely respectful, gave her all your attention, never touched me, made sure she had a good time. She knows you’re cool people.”

  Cin laughed. “It’s not happening, Jordan. Give it up. Look… call your girl. Tell her you’re sick. Give her a chance to do the caregiver thing. If she says no… you ain’t that damn sick.”

  I started coughing – not even faking it – and scowled up at the ceiling. “She already knows. She sent a get well soon text with a hospital mask emoji.”

  “Oooh,” Cin said, sucking in a breath. “That’s harsh. Well… bye. Get well soon.”

  Did she really just hang up on me?

  The home screen, rather than call screen, indicated that she definitely had, and I shook my head, then draped my arm over my eyes to block the seemingly harsh influx of light. I’d gone to bed early the night before, not feeling that hot, and woke up this morning feeling like I’d been hit by a truck.

  A big truck.

  As it did often, my mind went to Nicki.

  I already knew her stance on “take care of me when I’m sick” was, so I wasn’t really pissed about her response – or lack of. That was her thing, and had always been, with everybody. On more than one occasion, she’d stayed with me in my off-campus apartment because her roommate was sick, and she wouldn’t go back until she’d followed a damn near CDC level disinfection protocol. That was just her.

  Still… would be dope to get my damn back rubbed, or something.

  I was getting ready to just call Kendrick’s big ass to go get something for me – I really wasn’t concerned about the security aspect, at all – when my phone rang, flashing Tariq’s name and number across the screen.

  “What up?” I asked, putting my arm back over my eyes once I’d raised the phone to my ear. Instead of holding it, I just propped it against my head, in an attempt to save whatever energy I had left.

  “Damn… you okay? You sound bad.”

  I groaned. “Just a sinus thing, or a cold or something.”

  “Ahhh. Kora suffers with that too.”

  “What are you saying about me?”

  In the background, Kora spoke up, letting me know she was in the room, wherever Tariq was.

  “I was telling JJ how you get all snotty and shit a couple times a year too,” Tariq chuckled. “Speaking of Kora, she’s listening because she insisted I call and get an update on you and Cole Richardson. You didn’t let me know how it went, so I could pass it to my nosy wife.”

  “Don’t call me nosy, you wanted to know too!”

  I let out something between a laugh, snort, and a sneeze. “My bad, man. I took your advice and it…we managed to work it out. We’re good.”

  “Good. She coming to help you out with your… whatever has you sounding like somebody is holding a pillow over your face?”

  I sighed. “Uh.. man, it’s the middle of the day. She’s busy at work.”

  “Ah. Well, write this recipe down man. My grandmother’s chicken soup. Always gets Kora back on her feet.”

  I listened – and pretended I was actually writing down – Tariq’s long-winded ass instructions that non-domestic Nicki was never going to attempt to make. He was, I hoped, coming to the end when my doorbell rang.

  Internally this time, I groaned again.

  With Tariq still droning on about that damn soup, I dragged myself out of the bed to answer the door. The doorbell rang again when I was halfway there, and I had half a mind not to answer just for that reason.

  Dropping by my house unannounced, ringing my fucking doorbell, getting on my fucking nerves.

  I didn’t bother checking the peephole – nobody was getting up here with authorization at the desk first. Few people had that kind of access to me. A few homeboys, Kendrick, Jess, my mother— “Nicki?” I grumbled, surprised to see her on the other side of the door. “Tariq, I’ll call you back,” I said, then hung up the phone to give Nicki my attention. “Hey.”

  “Hey yourself,” she said, stepping past me into the door. She was in a coat and heels, which didn’t surprise me since it was early in the afternoon. What did surprise me were the bags in her hand. “I knew you had to be feeling pretty bad to miss practice today, so I brought you some soup and stuff, to make sure you eat. And I didn’t remember your medicine cabinet being particularly well stocked, so I brought some of that too… why are you looking at me like that?”

  I raised my aching shoulders to shrug. “No reason, I guess. I just… shit.” I scratched my head. “I honestly wasn’t expecting to see you while I was sick. You know how you were back in the day, with your quarantine protocols, and all of that.”

  Nicki laughed, shaking her head. “Yeah, I was a little crazy with that. I moved some meetings around, finished up a few things early, so I could come see about you. When you know better, you do better, and I know I want you feeling better. Not to mention, back on the field. Plus… the whole best girlfriend ever thing, you know. Can’t exactly leave you hanging, can I?” she teased, with a smile that was like a shot of adrenaline.

  “You’re a trip,” I chuckled, setting off a rattle in my chest. I moved to pull her into my arms, but she quickly ducked out of reach, eyes wide. I frowned, confused, and she held up a finger for me to wait a second. I watched as she dug through one of the bags in her hand and produced a hospital mask. She put it on, then put down her bags and unbuttoned her coat.

  My eyes went wide when I saw what was under it.

  She was in a short, fitted white nurse’s costume that her cleavage was spilling out of, barely contained by the bright red lace bra peeking from underneath. She dropped the coat to the ground, then stretched her arms toward me.

  “Now come here. Nurse Nicki is going to make you all better.”

  “Wow. So you are alive.”

  I rolled my eyes, racked the weights I was holding, but didn’t bother looking in the direction of those snide words before I moved to the next station, hoping to do so alone. Even though I knew those chances were slim, I still sighed when no such thing happened.

  “You see, I was getting a little concerned,” my father continued, hovering close by as I positioned myself for tricep extensions. “I saw somebody they claimed was Jordan Johnson out there on the field, and giving interviews after games. But I hadn’t heard from my only son in what… months now?”

  “I called on Thanksgiving,” I said, gritting my teeth against the heavy weight.

  My father sneered. “From your mother’s home. I don’t accept calls from there – she made her bed, she can lie in it.”

  “I was in her boyfriend’s house, but I called from my cell, so you can cut that. And you know damn well mama don’t want you back, so kill that fantasy too.�
�

  He scoffed. “I see. You’ve been talking to your mother and think you know the real deal. Is that it?”

  “Nah.” I shook my head. “I saw what I saw, with my own eyes, and I’m not ignoring it. What do you want, man? I’m trying to focus.”

  After missing practice from being sick, I called myself catching up. The rest of the team was gone for the night, except a few stragglers like me, trying to get in a little something extra in the weight room. I couldn’t just miss and let it go. When I was out there on the field, I wanted to be on equal footing. Better footing. I didn’t need this dude messing with my head when I had a game in three days.

  “You know, you’ve always had a weakness towards the women in your life. Your mother, your sister, Cole Richardson back in college – and hell, now. And whoever has your nose so wide open now that your field performance has been subpar for months now.”

  I dropped the weights, moving to get in his face. “Yo, what are you even talking about? The Kings have been putting up Ws left and right and it damn sure didn’t happen because I’ve been “subpar”.”

  He laughed, and didn’t back down. “You’re right. Those wins happened because your team has been carrying your ass. Bailey is probably somewhere exhausted from all the balls he had to run himself because you weren’t in position.”

  “TB runs the ball when that’s the play he called,” I said, frowning. “You’re in here talking this shit, but you don’t even know what you’re talking about. If I was a problem for anybody on the field except the other team, my teammate, coaches, and hell, management would’ve had something to say about it. I’m not about to listen to this shit from you.”

  My father shook his head. “Of course they’re all handling you with kid gloves, trying to keep you on this team. I bet pretty little Cole Richardson has already been buttering you up about a contract. But the sports reporters aren’t beholden to you, son. Just last week, that San Diego game. Zone Report was—”