“Wait, you’ve talked to him?” The betrayal that hits me in the stomach is not something I was expecting. She’s not supposed to be talking to him. That’s like best friend code or something.
“I haven’t physically talked to him, so calm down.” She pushes me toward the bathroom, trying to force me into the shower. “He texted me asking how you were, and I told him to give you time. I told you I’d be here for you no matter what. But, Jo, you’ve got to do something. Let him know how you’re feeling or where you want to go from here because as shitty as the situation is, you both need to move on.”
At least she didn’t give him much information. Well, none really. I could demand to see her phone to make sure she’s not lying to me, but she wouldn’t have even brought it up if she was going to. I trust her more than I trust anyone else in the world, even if she is trying to make me act like an adult. I’d much rather stay in my jammies, curled up on the couch. “Fine,” I pout. “I’ll consider talking to him. But I’ll take a shower first because you’re right, I smell horrible.”
She’s sitting on my couch when I get out of the shower and looking at what my TV is paused on. “You’re still watching his games?”
She didn’t see it earlier because the screen goes dark once it’s been paused for a certain amount of time. “Yeah. Just because I’m pissed at him doesn’t mean I don’t want to see him succeed. He’s worked his entire life to be in the position he’s in, and he deserves that.”
“That means you still care,” a knowing smile replaces her shock. “You really need to talk to him.”
“I will, but tomorrow. He needs to focus on his career tonight and he hasn’t even been playing that much. Right after I left, he started playing like shit and he’s been on the bench a lot.” I feel bad for him being in that position, but a small part of me was happy that he’s as miserable as I am. Does that make me a horrible human? Maybe. That’s beside the point, though. It means that he cares and hopefully knows he massively screwed up.
“Damn, that sucks.” She shakes her head and moves over to make room for me. “Do you want me to stay and watch with you?”
“Not really.” I sit down next to her. “I don’t enjoy having company with my misery. It’s not a becoming look, as you saw when you got here.”
“That’s true. Please don’t let it get that way again. I don’t want to have to come check on you every day like my parents have to do with my grandma.” She stands to leave. “But I will if I have to. I’m not going to let you go down in a pit of sadness. At least, not until you know what you’re going to do when it comes to him.” She leans down and gives me a hug. “Seriously, call me if you need me. I’m off for a couple of days.”
“I will.” She glares at me as if she doesn’t believe me. Not that she has no reason to since I’ve avoided all phone calls for the past week, but it makes me laugh. “I promise. No more living in filth because my heart hurts.”
“Yep. Or I’ll kick your ass.” Without another word, she walks out of my apartment. Even when she delivers those hard truths, I’m happy to have her on my side. I’m especially happy that she told me to shower because good Lord, was I gross.
All I can do now is watch the man I love on the TV screen and wish that I was there cheering him on.
The game is about ten minutes from starting. The announcers are going on and on about which teams will make it to the playoffs. They think the Rattlers are one of the teams that will make it to the championship round. That would be a dream for Bentley, but not if he doesn’t get to actually play.
They are talking about his presence on the court being minimal, and I don’t want to hear it. I mute the TV and rummage through my cabinets for popcorn. I could order out again, but I’m not that hungry. This will at least give me some sustenance.
While I’m waiting for the popcorn to be done, I unmute the TV. The game is about to start and I don’t want to miss any part of it. As much as it hurts to watch him play, at least I get to see him. Even though I haven’t talked to him since I bailed on him. I’m not sure anyone could blame me. Any girl in the same position would have likely done the same. Well, maybe not Lana. She would have marched straight up to the woman and cussed her out. I’m not as brave as her, though.
There’s a knock at the door, pulling me from my thoughts. I’m not expecting anyone. Lana left twenty minutes ago, and I don’t think she left anything. Maybe she ordered me dinner or something. She does whatever she can to mama me since my mother sucks. It’s one of my favorite things about her. The knock comes again, and whoever it is isn’t leaving. There’s only two minutes until the game starts so I hurry to the door and swing it open. “Lana, you didn’t have to bring—” My words die on my lips when I see that it isn’t Lana in my doorway.
“What are you doing here?” I glance at the TV then back at the man who is supposed to be on it right this very second.
“I figured this was the only way you’d talk to me.” Bentley’s hands are in his pockets and he looks like he hasn’t had a good night's rest in days. I’m not at my best either. The clothes I threw on after my shower has holes all in it from when I was in high school, and I’m sporting a worn-out pair of yoga pants. Definitely not how I want to look right now.
“But you’re supposed to be at the game.” I point to the TV to make my point. As if he doesn’t know that he’s supposed to be there.
“Yeah, but this was more important.” He leans against the door frame. “As much as I want to be out there playing, I needed to come here. I needed to come to you.”
Be still my beating heart. “Won’t this affect your career?” Why is that all I’m focusing on? He’s putting the game second to me. That is some sort of proof that I’m important to him, right?
“Probably,” he shrugs. “But I’ve been sitting on the bench a lot lately. As much as it sucks, it gives a person plenty of time to think.” He looks into the apartment then back to me. “Can we have this conversation inside? I don’t mind doing it right here, but I’m not sure it’s anyone else’s business.”
I didn’t even think about that. I’m still shocked that he’s here. At my apartment. Ruining whatever chance he may have as being a part of the Rattlers. “Yeah, um, come in.”
He brushes past me. There’s barely a few inches between us. He had room to have more distance from me, but he chose to be as close to me as possible. I’m not sure if it’s because he wants to intimidate me, or he’s so used to being in my space that he couldn’t help it. He sits on the couch and pats the space next to him before pointing at the TV. “So, you’re watching the game?”
I don’t sit down. Not because I don’t want to, but because I know if I do. If I get that close to him, I know I won’t be able to stay mad at him. I won’t give him a chance to say what he came here to say. Hell, he could be here to tell me I’m not worth all the trouble and he’s giving us the closure we both need. I clear my throat and nod. “I’ve been keeping up.”
“That’s good.” He doesn’t elaborate, but he scoots all the way across the sofa to give me the distance that he somehow knows I need. “What’s that smell?” Jesus. Did my days of not showering seep into the fabric? That’s embarrassing. “Is something burning?”
That’s when it finally hits me. “Shit, the popcorn.” This is why I never leave it unattended. There’s a delicate balance to making the perfect bag of popcorn, and I blew it the second he knocked on the door. I rush to the kitchen and pull the bag out of the microwave. The entire bottom is burned and there’s no saving it. I throw it in the trash but don’t bother with another bag. I don’t think I could eat while I wait for Bentley to say whatever he’s come here to say.
“Sorry about that,” I say as I sit on the opposite end of the sofa. “You showing up kind of distracted me. So why did you come all this way?”
“To apologize,” he looks down at his hands clasped together in his lap. “I should have pushed the reporter away sooner; the minute she attached herself to me, but I was in shock that she had
the audacity to do it.”
“I didn’t hear an apology in that.” It’s catty of me I know, but saying he came to apologize and actually saying it are two distinct things. Seeing that woman throw herself at him destroyed me.
“You’re right.” He pauses for a second before lifting his head until his eyes meet mine. “I’m sorry, Jolene. I should have dealt with the situation sooner. Right after I realized she was behind the photos on the gossip magazine.”
I cut in to let him know that’s not the only time. “She was the woman outside the restaurant taking photos, too.”
“Damn,” he mutters. “I wish I would have known that. But that makes my decision to get a restraining order against her even better. She’s apparently been a nuisance to a lot of the players, and after I took the steps to get an order, a lot of the other players came forward, too.”
I can’t believe he took that action. It makes me feel better about the whole situation, but I still have one question. “Does that mean she won’t be at any of the remaining games?”
He nods and scoots closer, but not too close. There’s still an entire cushion between us. “Nope. The network she worked for fired her after they found out about it. She’d been making players' lives hell. Apparently, she got into the job to find herself a player to attach to so she wouldn’t have to do anything and could be a trophy wife.”
“Wow. That’s kind of sick if you ask me.” I will never understand people that try to do shit like that. Harassing people is never the answer.
“Agreed.” He continues to scoot closer. “I’m also sorry for letting my fear and pride get in the way of coming to you sooner. It took Ross telling me to get my head out of my ass before I came. And it was even more apparent that I needed to since you wouldn’t return my calls or texts.”
“I didn’t return Lana’s either.” I want him to know that he wasn’t the only one I was ignoring. It was everything, and I couldn’t deal. “I am glad you came, though. I was going to call you tomorrow.”
“That would have been a day too long. I needed to see you for myself. I needed to make sure you were okay. To tell you I love you and I’m not ready to lose you. I won’t ever be ready for that.”
A tear slips down my cheek. Damn it. I’m not supposed to be crying, but the wetness mirrored in his own eyes shows how much he means every single word he just said. I admitted to Lana earlier that I still care about him. He took care of the problem that caused me to run. “I love you, too. But…you have to be mindful of how you handle those things. If that means me coming out and being in the spotlight, so be it. I just can’t deal with that kind of attention you get from women.”
He takes a deep breath and lets it out. “I understand that. You don’t have to be in the spotlight if you don’t want to. And honestly, there hasn’t been anyone that’s tried to throw themselves at me. Most people respect others' boundaries. But that means you can’t run off if you see something you don’t like. Those are the times we need to be adults and have a conversation.”
He said exactly what Lana told me earlier. “I know. Believe me, Lana laid into me earlier with some hard truths.” I take a second to study him, to make sure he really means everything he’s said. Scooting closer to him, I take his hand in mine. “I want things to work between us. I want that more than anything because if the last two weeks have shown me anything, it’s that my life is damn empty without you in it. I love you and I want to be with you.”
He wraps his arms around me and pulls me into his lap. “That is the best damn thing I’ve heard all day. Please never leave me again.”
“I won’t. You know, unless you give me a damn good reason to.”
“I don’t plan on ever doing that again.” He leans in and places a kiss on my temple.
Turning my head, I capture his lips with my own. I haven’t seen him in over two weeks, and I need to feel every single part of him. He is what makes me happy. He makes me feel like I have a home.
Epilogue
One month later
This is the game that determines everything. The one that will either have us going back home or heading to the championships. We’re lucky that it’s being played here in Austin. We’re on our own turf and I have the best three cheerleaders in the entire stadium.
Jolene met Mom and Gabby a couple weeks ago. They love her just as I predicted. Not because she’s overly sweet or anything, but because she doesn’t back down. Now I have two people that are constantly challenging every word I say. I’m okay with it, though. I love that Jolene and Gabby get along. It’s also scary how much alike they are and I never realized it until they were in the same room. I’m not sure what that says about me.
I glance over my shoulder and spot the both of them a few rows up from the bench. Both of them are wearing Rattler jerseys. Jolene has the one I bought her when we first started dating and my sister has Jordan’s jersey. I think she does it to get under my skin. She has one of mine but refuses to wear it. So much for sibling solidarity. Mom is up in the box with Vanessa because she doesn’t like how crazy the fans can get sometimes. And because Vanessa is amazing, she is sitting up there with her.
Coach is rotating another batch of players. He isn’t happy that I missed one of the games and made me sit a couple out as punishment. But he knows we need players on the court for this one. It’s the last playoff game, and he doesn’t want any of us getting over-tired.
The people filling the seats are going wild. Noisemakers accompany their shouts as they cheer us on. There’s five minutes left in the game, and we’ve been basket for basket throughout most of it. We’ll get ahead for a bit and then fall behind. Both of our teams want this more than anything.
I watch my teammates go from goal to goal. Making shots and defending the basket. All of us on the bench in suspense with every steal. I want this game to go on for a while. While I don’t enjoy the stress it brings on, it means more time with Jolene here in Austin. She’s still flying, but Gabby is helping her look for jobs at travel agencies here. I hope they find something soon because I miss falling asleep with her in my arms. I miss her being the first thing I see when I open my eyes in the morning. I could easily take care of her until she finds another job, but she refuses to let me. She’s so damn stubborn, but I wouldn’t have her any other way.
“Bentley,” Ross elbows me in the side. “Coach is calling for you.”
There’s less than a minute left in the game and he chooses now to put me in? I’m not complaining. I’m lucky to be playing at all. I jump out of my chair and hurry to Coach.
“We need you to go out there right now and keep the ball away from them as much as possible. If it ties, make sure you’re the last one with the ball and you hit a three. We’re counting on you, Kid.”
I hate when he calls me that. I’m not that much younger than most of the guys on the team. “Got it.” I go to the score table to check in. In the time it took for Coach to talk to me, the clock has dwindled down to ten seconds. It’s not a bad thing. The last minute of the game can take a good twenty minutes. I will do my best to shut that shit down. We don’t need overtime tonight. We need a solid victory.
The ref calls me in and Jordan passes by me on the way to the sideline. “Show ‘em what you’re made of. It’s your time to shine.”
I nod and take my position. The whistle blows and the other team throws the ball in. The point fakes me and goes in for a layup. We’re tied and there’s five seconds left of the game. James grabs the ball and throws it to me. My eyes are focused on the timer. I need it to get down to less than a second before I make the shot.
The rest of my teammates block anyone that gets close to me. I pass the half-court line and work my way down the court until I’m deep in the three-point zone. The clock gets to one second and I dribble the ball, line my shot up, and release the ball.
One of the players on the opposing team tries to block it but jumps too soon. His hand an inch past the trajectory of the shot. The ball swooshes through the n
et as the buzzer goes off. Holy shit. We did it.
“Ladies and Gentleman, the Austin Rattlers are going to the championship.” The announcer yells over the speakers and the crowd goes insane. This is what we’ve been working toward. We still have to prove ourselves in the last seven games, but for now, we’ll bask in the glory of being division champions.
My teammates rush off the bench and huddle around me. “We’re going to the finals, baby,” Ross hollers over everyone.
After a few minutes of celebration, I turn my attention to the stand. To the woman who unknowingly has been a part of this journey. Who gave me the added confidence I needed. She’s on her feet clapping and yelling with my sister.
Making my way through my teammates, I march to the stands. It’s almost exactly what happened a few months ago. She rushes down the remaining steps and flies into my arms. This time, we don’t care who catches the moment on camera or what anyone has to say about it. “You did it,” she screams to be heard over the fans still celebrating our win. She plants her lips on mine and clings to me. “Let’s go home. I have a victory gift for you,” she winks before sliding out of my grasp.
That’s what she is to me. Home. She’s my safe space and I’m the same for her. I didn’t trust anyone, and she didn’t trust men in general. But we healed each other in the best way possible. I can’t wait to see what prize she has for me.
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Big Baller : A Hero Club Novel Page 21
