Full Court Press

by J Akridge

  Landon shuts the light off and then crawls back in bed, then touches a warm washcloth between my legs, cleaning me.

  “I should probably get going,” I say as I watch Landon toss the rag to the floor before pinning me with a look.

  “You should probably just sleep here tonight, I’m not sure I’m quite done with your sweet little ass yet.” He leans over me again, sliding a condom on before entering me in one smooth motion. We end up this way two more times before morning.

  Chapter Six

  My phone buzzes on the nightstand beside the bed. I slowly raise my head, looking around as I gather my thoughts. Last night, I spent the night with Landon Prince. I groan as I think of the evening. I’m supposed to hate all things associated with basketball, especially Hawks basketball. I know it’s unreasonable to blame some of my life’s misfortune on a pro basketball team, but they’ll always be associated in some way, shape, or form with Carson’s dad abandoning him. I’m surprised I gave in to going to the game as easily as I had. I really could have fought them on it, and they would have caved knowing how difficult it all would be for me. Truthfully, the game was fun and spending some time with my sister and friends was good for me.

  Landon’s arm is still draped across my stomach, and I’m in one of his T-shirts he gave me before we fell asleep last night. It smells just like him. I can’t help but grin at the thought. He was adamant on not letting me leave last night and I’m thoroughly thankful this morning. Although, I wonder if he will feel the same when he wakes up. Landon is the type of guy who enjoys the bachelor life and the one-night stands that accompany this lifestyle. I’ve read the tabloids, Landon Prince is destined to be the Bachelor of the Year.

  My phone continues to buzz. I sneak a glance at Landon. He’s still sound asleep, and his hair has fallen down on his forehead. I shift to slide out of his hold and grab my phone, then stand and walk toward the door, so I don’t wake him.

  I grab my shirt from the kitchen floor and slowly slide his off and mine on while answering my phone.

  “Hello?” I whisper.

  “Hi, Momma. When are ya coming home?” my son asks in his sleepy little voice. He must have slept in a little this morning, which is rare for him. He’s usually bouncing off the walls bright and early. I look at the clock on the stove, 10:30 am.

  “Hi, baby, I’ll be home shortly, okay?” I hear a shuffle behind me and glance toward Landon’s open bedroom door and realize he has gotten up. “Listen, I have to go, but I’ll see you when I get home, okay?”

  “Okay, Momma. I love you.” Those three little words coming from his mouth could bring me to my knees every day.

  “I love you, too, baby.” He hangs up immediately and I grin at the conversation.

  “Here’s your jeans.” I turn to find Landon standing behind me. His face is blank and he’s holding my jeans out to me. I take them from him, and he turns away from me, lifting his phone to his ear. “I need a cab to 604 Cravers Lane. Yes, thank you.”

  His attention shifts back to me. I smile and take a step toward him, only he shuts me down immediately.

  “The cab will be out front, shut the door behind you when you go out. Thanks for last night.” He turns and walks away before I can say a word. His words have a coldness to them. This is a completely different version of the man I was with last night. He slams his bathroom door behind him, causing me to jump.

  I slip my jeans on and slide my feet into my Converse and head for the door. This is exactly why I don’t do one-night stands or get myself involved with people. Regardless of catching feelings or enjoying the company, I’m embarrassed walking out this door, and the more I think about the situation the more pissed off I become.

  Going to that basketball game was a mistake. But attending the after-party with him was an even bigger mistake. Meeting him, period, is the biggest mistake.

  The cab is waiting at the gate as I walk through. I climb in and tell the cabbie which hotel I’m staying in. I don’t know why we even bothered getting a hotel room, we live forty minutes from the city and this entire trip is turning out to be a giant mistake.

  After a few minutes of allowing my anger to radiate, I dial my sister’s number.

  “Well, hello there, sunshine. I was wondering if we’d be graced with your presence today. Tell me, was it good?” my sister questions.

  “He is a grade-A jerk. A complete asshole and this was all a huge mistake.” The cabbie pulls to the front of the hotel, so I hop out and stalk through the entrance. “And this mistake is all your fault, Chrissy.”

  I get to the elevators and step inside when a couple steps off. Gag. They looked happily smitten with each other’s company and so in love. I roll my eyes at the thought of them.

  “What floor are you on?” I move my hand toward the numbers listed on the panel.

  “Third. See you in a few.” She hangs up and I slam my angry little finger into the number three button.

  I bang on the door of their hotel room; Gabby opens it slowly and I stalk through. I walk toward the bed farthest from the door and fall backward. Because I’m dramatic like that.

  “So, tell me what happened? I thought y’all were getting along fine?” my sister questions as she sits on the bed next to me. Gabby moves for the chair across the room where her computer is set up and begins typing. I’m sure she’s going to use my mental breakdown for a storyline.

  “Well, everything went great until he basically kicked my ass to the curb this morning.” I look at my sister. “He literally handed me my jeans, called me a cab, and told me not to let the door hit me on the way out.”

  “Wait, what? He said that?” Her jaw drops and she has shock written all over her face.

  “In so many words.” I look around the room. “Where’s Jen?”

  My sister breaks into a grin and looks to Gabby, who begins shaking her head.

  “You know Jennifer. Apparently, she also had a night with a basketball star and hasn’t been kicked to the curb yet.” She throws her head back and laughs. I slap her with a pillow from behind, only causing her to laugh harder. This is one of those moments where I hate my sister.

  “Whatever, I’m heading to take a bath. I’m starving and ready to see my boy.” I grab my bag and head to the bathroom and forget the time I spent with Landon Prince.

  But why’d the sex have to be so damn good?

  Chapter Seven

  “Mom, I have a question and I really need you to say yes because it’ll make me the happiest kid in the whole entire world.” I glance at my son. He’s standing with his hands behind his back and trying not to smile as I stare him down.

  “And what is the question?” I stop wiping the countertop and cross my arms in front of me, giving him my full attention.

  “Well, ya know how I just had a birthday?” he asks, as if I could have forgotten that special day. I nod. “Well, I think it’s time for me to go to a ballgame.”

  I’m caught off-guard momentarily. Not because I don’t think he deserves it, he loves this sport so much, but I, however, am no longer a fan. If I thought I hated basketball before, well, let’s just say I completely despise it now.

  “Hmm. I’m not sure, buddy. The games cost a lot of money.”

  “I know, I’ve been saving in my piggy bank and Mimi and Peepaw said they’d give me some extra for helping do yard work last time I was there.” He bites his bottom lip, nervous of my answer. I’m not sure if I'm able to attend another game, the last one was a disaster, not to mention the events after the game. But, if I say no, I'm punishing my child for my selfish situation and hatred of the game. A game, he truly enjoys.

  “I’ll call Jennifer and see if I can get us some tickets for a game soon.” Carson turns to run away. “But –” He stops quickly and slowly turns back to face me. “That bedroom better stay clean all week, mister.”

  He laughs, runs over to me, and gives me a hug before heading back down the hallway.

  One thing is for sure, I’m not wearing that da
mn shirt he gave me.

  Jennifer was able to come through with the same tickets we had to the game two weeks ago. Carson hasn’t stopped talking about the game since I told him we could go. I’m still unsure if this is a good idea, but Carson doesn’t deserve to miss out on things just because I can’t stand the thought of seeing a giant douchebag again.

  “Holy cow, Momma.” I look down at my son; his smile is the biggest I have ever seen. He’s staring at the jumbotron, in awe of everything surrounding him. Several players are on the court warming up, and my eyes glance to each one. Searching him out, and hating myself for doing so.

  “I see you looking for him,” Jennifer says as she takes the seat beside me.

  “Oh, shut up.” I roll my eyes and sit back in my seat.

  “I talked to Cal about that whole situation.” She leans closer so that Carson doesn’t overhear the conversation. “He said he’s never heard of Landon kicking anyone out and that he has never allowed anyone to come to his house before.”

  “Well, he did.” I cross my arms over my chest and huff. “And why are you still talking to Cal King?” I raise my eyebrows at her in question.

  The players all begin moving back toward the tunnel that leads to the locker room. One by one, they walk by. Cal looks our way, then winks at Jennifer beside me. He approaches our seats in the front row and exchanges a quick hello with Jen before turning his attention on Carson.

  “Hey, dude. You must be Carson?” He squats in front of my son and holds his fist out. My son taps his to Cals and I can see the disbelief on his face. He is talking to one of the star athletes he’s watched play basketball on TV. His little mind is racing so quickly and I slowly let go of some of the anger when I see his excited expression.

  “Hi. You’re gonna kick butt tonight, Mr. King.” He’s always so proper when he speaks to a grownup and it makes me beam with pride.

  “Call me Cal, bud. You wanna go shoot some hoops with me?” Cal stands, holding his hand out for a ball that one of the ball boys quickly tosses his way.

  Carson turns to me. “Can I, Momma?”

  “Sure,” I toss back, knowing this is making his year right now. I pull my phone from my back pocket and quickly open the photo app. I can’t miss these moments.

  I snap several pictures of Carson attempting to shoot, only to fall short.

  “He’s great, isn’t he?” she asks, her eyes focused on Cal playing with my son.

  “He really is. What’s going on there?” I ask, curious to know the answer. I return my attention back to Carson, who is trying to steal the ball from Cal. Cal pretends to trip, giving Carson the perfect opportunity to snatch the ball away and shoot. Only to miss once again because the goal is ten foot.

  “Nothing. Girl, you know I don’t like to be tied down and he’s a player just like me. Two individuals cut from the same cloth. It’s really perfect. Fuck buddies is my thing, and he is a damn good fuck buddy.” I laugh at her admission.

  I watch as Landon approaches where Carson and Cal are still playing ball, and freeze. He bends and gives my son a fist bump, the same as Cal. I can see them chatting away with each other, my son extremely enthusiastic to be talking to both star players of the Atlanta Hawks. The two they call “The Royals.”

  Carson looks my way and points with his little hand. He has a giant smile and gives the biggest wave when he sees me watching him. Landon looks my direction and pauses, his face a stone mask now.

  What the fuck?

  Cal walks Carson back toward me, Landon slowly following along behind. When they approach our seats, Landon avoids making eye contact with me, making this entire situation slightly awkward.

  “Momma, will you take our picture please? I can’t wait to show Peepaw when we get home.” Carson is bouncing up and down with excitement. I pull my phone up again. Cal and Landon each kneel beside Carson, who is holding a basketball to his chest. Cal winks at Jennifer before smiling at the camera. Our eyes collide momentarily, Landon’s focused on mine as I snap away.

  Once finished, Landon stands, pulling a silver sharpie from his pocket, and asks Carson for the ball. He scribbles his name across it and passes it to Cal, who does the same. They each fist bump Carson once again and head toward the locker room. Landon doesn’t bother looking back as I watch him disappear through the entrance of the tunnel.

  “Momma. Wow. Can you believe that I got to go on the court with them?” Carson tosses his new basketball in his hands. “Maybe one day I’ll be as huge as them and get to play basketball. Wouldn’t that be awesome, Momma?”

  “I know, buddy. That was pretty cool. I think it’d be super neat if you did. Do you want anything to eat before the game starts?”

  “A corn dog and a soda.” I lift a brow at his request for a soda. “It’s my birthday trip.” He shrugs; I stand and ruffle his hair with a laugh.

  “Stay with Jen, I’ll be right back.”

  The line for the corn dog was extremely long. I managed to miss tip off and I’m pissed I didn’t get to witness the excitement on Carson’s face.

  “Kelsi?” I turn to the voice of my name. Layla is passing by with a small group of people.

  “Hi. How’re you?” I ask as I move to the small table near the stand where ketchup and mustard are laid out.

  “I’m good, how’re you?”

  “Good. I brought my son to his first game tonight.” I squeeze enough ketchup to feed a small village, but Carson loves his ketchup so I’d rather not make two trips.

  “I think I saw him on the court. With Cal and Landon?” she asks. “I didn’t realize you had a son; I don’t think Landon mentioned it.”

  “Yep, that was him. And Landon doesn’t know.” I smile at her as I press the lid shut on the ketchup bottle. “Well, he didn’t know until tonight. I better get back to him. He’s been waiting for this corn dog for a bit.”

  “Enjoy the game. If y’all need anything let me know.” She winks then steps away to rejoin her group and I find my way back down to my little boy.

  The game is in full force by the time I arrive. I glance at the scoreboard and see that the Hawks are up by eight points. They’re playing Golden State tonight and it looks to be an interesting game from just the minute I’ve seen so far.

  Carson reaches for the corn dog and in one quick move he has it dipped in ketchup and has taken a rather large bite. Ketchup drips down his chin and I reach out with an extra napkin I grabbed and catch it before it lands on his jersey.

  “So, while you were gone, Landon watched your seat like a hawk,” Jennifer says. I look over to see her leaned back and smirking at me. “He tried to play it off, but he was really curious. Each time he ran by and they scored, or the other team got the ball back, he’d glance over then look up at the entrance then run back down the court.”

  “This makes no sense, why would he care where I am?” I take a drink of the soda I got to share with Carson.

  “Don’t look now, but he’s watching.” She winks and of course I look. It’s impossible not to look when someone says don’t look. And she was right, Landon Prince is staring right at me.

  I’m the one to turn away first. I’m confused by him and, to be honest, I really don’t need this kind of drama or stress in my life. I’m finally happy, I have a cute, little house, very supportive parents, and a perfect little boy. I’m content and it’s taken a long time to feel this way and I’ll be damned if I feel the need to depend on another man, ever again.

  I watch the rest of the game, somehow managing not to make eye contact with Landon. I know he still glances our direction because Jennifer looks over at me and grins each time.

  They end up winning by three, and the game was extremely intense and exciting, just like the last time.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for your Atlannnttaaa Hawkkkks!” the announcer shouts as the players shake hands and high five players of the other team. “Now, as always, our favorite portion of the night. The Little Dribblers!”

  Several of the H
awks players begin walking around the court, looking into the stands. The Little Dribblers has been a tradition after every home game where the players interact with the kids, allowing them to come onto the court and play a quick game against the pros.

  Cal steps toward us, no doubt heading directly for Carson, when Landon puts a hand to his chest and whispers something in his ear. Cal slaps his back then turns another direction, choosing a little brown-haired girl with a sweatband on each wrist and her Hawks jersey hanging to her knees.

  Landon continues walking toward our seats and squats to meet Carson’s eyes.

  “Hey, man. You wanna play?” Carson looks to me so I nod, then smile at Landon, who gives a slight nod of the head in my direction. Ass.

  Carson is in charge of guarding Landon and it is honestly one of the most comical games I’ve ever seen. The players pretend to trip, fall, and roll around just so the kids get the feel of stealing a ball from a few NBA stars. A few of the players even lift the kids up, allowing them to dunk the ball during the game.

  Once their game ends, they take a group photo for the Hawks website and social media pages. The arena has nearly emptied by now and only parents remain to collect their kids from the court. Carson runs to me, wrapping his tiny arms around my waist.

  “Thank you so much, Momma. This was the best day of my life.” He squeezes me hard before releasing me and tackling Jennifer to thank her for the tickets.

  Landon steps beside me, his hands braced on his hips.

  “Kelsi.” I lift my head since he is a good foot taller than me and I’m met with those gorgeous gray eyes. Damn those eyes.

  “Landon,” I mimic back.

  “How’re ya?”

  “Good, you?” I’m purposely being short with him and I’m sure he knows it by my answers being vague.