Not like I had a choice.
I needed all the recovery time I could get, hoping that would be enough for the nerves to pass so that I could really lock in for game two. But when it finally rolled around, it was practically a repeat performance for the anxiety-inducing exhaustion that had me wheezing hard enough to draw concern from Ari who suggested we go see the team doctor once the game was over and won.
Since there was no way in hell I was running the risk of missing the rest of the playoffs because of whatever the doctor found, I did my best to assure her I was fine. But my obvious fatigue said otherwise, a frown on Ari’s face when she asked, “You’re not coming down with somethin’, are you?”
I shook my head no.
“Heart problems run in your family? Have you ever had a panic attack?”
Again, I shook my head no.
“Are you pregnant?”
Snapping my head back, I repeated, “Pregnant? Girl, bye,” laughing her off as I waited for her to offer up more possibilities. But when she only raised an eyebrow in response, I gave it a second thought, realizing it wasn’t all that impossible since Dre and I hadn’t exactly been playing it the safest as of late.
Not since, well, before Las Vegas when we’d explored new territory and never felt the need to go back to using condoms on a consistent basis. But now, even without knowing for sure what was happening, I wished we would’ve just so I wouldn’t have had to deal with the lingering uncertainty that had Ari putting a supportive hand to my knee to suggest, “Maybe you should take a pregnancy test. Just to know for sure.”
The truth was, I didn’t want to know for sure because I didn’t want it to be a possibility at all, already feeling emotional about it when I sighed, “Ari, I can’t be pregnant. Not right now.”
There was still so much work to be done, so much basketball to be played; not only for the Nymphs but for my overseas team as well. And even beyond that, what would a baby mean for Dre and I who were still relatively new as a couple? How could I have a coach for a baby daddy when I still hadn’t even been able to open up about him being my damn boyfriend?
I appreciated Ari’s optimism when she insisted, “Well the earlier you know for sure, the better. Because if it’s not that, it could be something even more serious.”
“What’s more serious than a whole ass baby?!” I whined, Ari chuckling a little bit in response even though there wasn’t a damn thing funny.
“Okay, maybe not more serious. But there could still be something going on with your health that needs to be addressed, babe.”
Only because of that was I willing to take the test. But not until after we’d already won game three, sweeping the series and securing our spot in the finals. And thankfully, LA and Seattle were still battling it out on the other side of the bracket, giving us another small break and giving me a little more time to process the possibility of a baby.
A baby.
With my career being so physically demanding year-round, I hadn’t really had the chance to give motherhood much thought. And not only that, but I’d also never been with someone even worth sharing that kind of life-changing experience with, quickly coming to the conclusion that I must’ve really loved me some Jordan DeAndre Leonard since his involvement was the only bright spot in all of this even if I couldn’t tell him about it just yet.
He was already worried enough for reasons I hadn’t understood. But after finally taking the test in Ari’s bathroom, I realized his concern was valid, tears welling up in my eyes as I stared down at the two pink lines that would change everything.
With a knock on the door that broke my gaze, Ari called out, “You okay in there, babe?” my blink in response causing a tear to hit my cheek as I stood up to let her in. And with one look at my face, she already knew the answer to her question.
No.
I wasn’t okay.
“Aww, Selena,” she sighed, pulling me into a hug that made me burst into tears as I cried, “How could I have let this happen?!”
Rubbing soft circles on my back, Ari did her best to calm me down as she assured, “Selena, you’re gonna be okay. We’ll figure it out. You have options.”
Honestly, I couldn’t even think that far ahead yet, stuck on the fact that this wasn’t exactly something I could just keep to myself. And because I was unsure of what his reaction would be since this was totally unplanned, I found myself crying even harder when I asked, “But how am I gonna tell Dre?”
“The same way you’d tell him anything,” she replied simply, though I knew it was a little more complicated than that.
“I can’t. He’s already been so concerned about my health lately. This will just make him insufferable.”
“So don’t tell him until after the finals,” Ari suggested as she guided me over to her bed to sit down, surely tired of having to hold up my weight since I’d been using her for support ever since I broke the news.
But even when we were seated, I rested my head on her shoulder, sniffling as I reasoned, “But he needs to know. We have to... make a decision.”
If there was one thing I’d learned about being a professional athlete as a woman, it was that there was no right time to get pregnant. No matter what, it was treated as an inconvenience, a defect, a weakness; like pregnancy and giving birth was just some easy thing to do.
Still, with that came a very personal decision to make in terms of whether or not to terminate while it was still early enough to do so, something plenty of women in my position had done in order to continue competing. And for that reason, I was glad to have Ari on my side who was completely supportive when she grabbed my hands to say, “Selena, just tell me what you need, and we’ll make it happen.”
Gnawing on my lip, I pushed out, “What I need, is a doctor’s appointment.”
She was already grabbing her phone to make arrangements when she replied, “You know the team doctor is always on call. I can...”
“No,” I cut her off. “I need something more private than that. Cause the team doctor is way too close to Katianna, and that’s the last person I need finding out right now.”
I could only imagine how livid she’d be when she learned I was pregnant, finding some way to make it about her and the Nymphs instead of considering my well-being. And since the absolute last thing I needed was additional stress on top of what I was already experiencing, I was grateful when Ari didn’t fight me on it, only giving a nod as she replied, “Let me make a few calls and see what I can do.”
Six weeks.
That’s how far along I was according to the OB/GYN’s calculations, proving our disregard for safe sex post-All-Star weekend had indeed been the cause of this beautiful nightmare.
Beautiful because I knew he or she was made with love even if Dre and I hadn’t shared those exact words yet. And a nightmare because there were literally only three wins standing between me and the championship, and this baby was already sucking the life out of me.
At least it was still early enough in the pregnancy for me to be cleared to play.
That was my main concern, having everything I’d worked so hard for literally be snatched away from me in the blink of an eye. But even in the midst of a crisis, God had done me the biggest favor by keeping my body in good enough shape to still be able to compete in what was easily going to be the most important games of my life even though I had no idea what would come afterwards.
I mean, keeping the baby meant my overseas season was for sure a wash, not only cutting into the growth of my international brand but also my bankroll in a major way since the salary I made playing over there was a huge chunk of my income. And even beyond that, it wasn’t a guarantee that I’d have a healthy pregnancy, or a healthy delivery, or be ready to come back to basketball right after giving birth when next season rolled around.
The shit just… wasn’t fair on so many levels.
Being with child should’ve been a beautiful discovery worth celebrating, a happy time in my life. But because of my career, t
he only thing I could see it for was the potential professional disaster and that was before I’d even gotten the chance to tell the person who’d gone half on it.
I couldn’t tell him.
Not yet.
Not until I’d finished the job in bringing a championship to Nashville.
I couldn’t carry the weight of Dre’s concern and the weight of having the team on my shoulders. I couldn’t let this pregnancy completely distract me from the goal that was already within my reach. I couldn’t just… give up.
I was fine, the baby was fine, and we were going to get this title together.
That’s what I had settled on by the time Ari asked, “So what are you gonna do, Selena?”
Without letting a moment pass, I answered, “I’m gonna win.”
To anyone else, it might’ve sounded like the wrong response. But Ari knew exactly what I meant, giving an enthusiastic nod as she wrapped her arm around my shoulder and sang, “That’s my girl.”
Her continued support made a tear fall, but I was quick to wipe it away when she asked, “You know there’s no way I can leave Nashville now, right? Not until I meet my niece or nephew.”
Snapping my head back, I challenged, “Oh, so you’ll stay for the baby, but not for me? You ain’t real.”
“My fake ass got a private doctor to see you in a moment’s notice though,” she defended, making me giggle as I nodded to agree.
“You did. And I love you for life for doing so,” I told her, resting my head against the side of hers with an easy smile until I felt my phone vibrate with a text we read together.
“Where you at, lil’ baby? I miss you.” - Jordan
“Hold up. Who the hell is Jordan?” Ari asked with a frown as I sat up to send a response, already chuckling about her confusion as I typed and answered her question simultaneously.
“Jordan DeAndre Leonard is my baby daddy,” I told her before pressing send.
“About to be on my way home. Miss you more.” - SeSa
Our extra days off before the finals couldn’t have been timed more perfectly for Dre since they’d finally found a buyer for his grandmother’s house, sending him to St. Louis on a flight I had to force him to take because driving would’ve taken far too long. And I assumed him texting me to see where I was meant he was back from his trip and wanted to see me, though I wasn’t sure if I was quite ready to face him alone.
Maybe I could get Ari to come too.
Of course she was still stuck on the random fun fact I had dropped, a bit hysterical when she squealed, “That nigga’s name is Jordan?! Since when?”
Giggling, I answered, “Since birth. It’s a long story. You should have him tell it when you come over for dinner tonight.”
“You’re not asking me to come over so I can be a buffer for when you drop the baby bomb, are you?” she asked skeptically, only making me giggle more as I shook my head while rubbing my still very flat tummy.
“No, Ari. The baby will not be a topic for discussion tonight.”
“And you’re not cooking, right? Cause whatever you made the last time you cooked for us had me beatboxing with my ass.”
“Ari!” I squealed as I bust out laughing, falling into her as she laughed along with me and defended, “I’m just sayin’, girl. God gave you a lot of talents, but cooking did not make the cut. Not by a long shot.”
Rolling my eyes, I groaned, “Anyway. You comin’? We can order from whatever takeout place you want, except for the places you know I don’t like cause that just wouldn’t be fair.”
“You really think I’d do my Godbaby like that?” she teased with a hand to my stomach, somehow making it a little realer than when I’d done it myself. And even though the whole thing still had me completely shook, I was beyond grateful to be in good company, giving me a bit of calm before what was sure to be one hell of a storm.
Eighteen
Our secret was on the verge of collapsing.
It was the morning of the first game of the finals. And instead of people talking about what was sure to be the series of the decade between the Nymphs and Seattle - a team that was only in its second season vs. a team on the verge of being back-to-back champions - all of the attention was on Selena and I thanks to some eager ass social media intern from Spilling That Hot Tea who’d published a post linking the two of us as a couple.
There were the pictures we’d taken together during media day at the very beginning of the season along with a screenshot of the “relationship name” poll that Mikayla must’ve posted on her Instagram story around the same time. There was some old ass picture of Selena and I walking through the airport with her arm wrapped around mine and a picture one of her relatives must’ve posted of the two of us laughing about something at her father’s cookout. And finally, there was a zoomed-in version of the picture Selena had posted of us in the elevator side-by-side with a closeup picture of the tattoos on my arms. All clues that weren’t exactly clear-cut evidence, but still plenty to keep the conversation alive and have my line pinging with calls from Katianna that I couldn’t answer until I checked on Selena.
Of course, because of how early it was, she was still half-sleep when she answered my FaceTime call and groaned, “Something better be on fire, Jordan.”
“Eh… something like that. And since you’re just waking up, I’m assuming you don’t know what it is,” I replied, watching as she sat up in bed and started to stretch; lowkey distracting me from what I was calling her about since she always looked so damn pretty in the morning with her fresh skin, a scarf tied around her head, and those perfect braless titties.
In fact, I was just getting ready to comment on them when she finally responded, “Humor me.”
Instead of explaining anything, I told her, “Check your Instagram.”
“Can’t. I let Ari change the passwords to all of my social media accounts so that I wouldn’t have any distractions,” she replied, squinting at the top of her screen when she muttered, “Why is Kat texting me right now?”
Because I had a feeling Katianna was on some other shit, I was quick to suggest, “Don’t… read those yet. It’ll sound better comin’ from me.”
“What will sound better coming from you?” she asked, confused until I went on to tell her about everything that had been posted about us online.
With the timing of it all, I expected Selena to freak out a little bit - a lot of bit. But she didn’t, only waving me off as she sighed, “Oh, Dre. That’s the least of my concerns right now.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously,” she nodded. “I could hardly sleep last night thinking about... tonight’s game. I don’t think I even have the capacity to worry about stupid people on the internet too.”
It was the right approach, the smart approach, choosing to stay focused on the finals instead of letting any of that nonsense get into her head. And because she wasn’t in a mood about it, I felt comfortable teasing, “Should’ve let me stay the night. I would’ve put your ass right to sleep.”
Giggling, she reminded me, “No distractions, big baby. Not even from your fine ass.”
“You’re the fine one. Over there glowing and shit like your breath don’t stink,” I joked, making her laugh again as she hissed, “Shut up,” before putting me on pause to check the texts from our boss.
“Oh, this actually isn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”
“What’d she say?” I asked before admitting, “I ain’t even answer her calls.”
“Scaredy cat,” Selena mumbled with another giggle, then read the texts out loud.
“Don’t answer to anything.” - KL
“Don’t admit anything.” - KL
“No comment. Redirect. No comment.” - KL
“Sounds easy enough,” I told her, finding it similar to the media training I’d done with Kat before the season had even started.
Selena didn’t seem as enthused about it though, glancing down as she grumbled, “Yeah. Easy for now.”
; “For now?”
Instead of answering my question, she pulled the camera closer to her face to say, “I need to get up and start my day. See you at the arena in a few hours?”
Frowning, I asked, “Where else would I be, Selena?”
“Right,” she sighed, almost nervously before rushing me off the phone with a casual, “Catch you later, Dre.”
After the call ended, I sat there for a minute, trying to figure out if I was reading into things too much or if Selena was really acting strange. But then I considered what today meant for her and knew it was the kind of moment all ballers dreamed of, cutting her some slack as I found some breakfast, got dressed, and grabbed my bag to leave; making it all the way to the arena only to be bum-rushed by random reporters waiting to ask me questions.
“How long have you and Selena been dating?”
“Is your relationship with Selena the only reason you were hired by the Nymphs?”
“Are you using Selena to clean up your Nashville image?”
“The fuck?” I asked with a scowl, staring down at the puny, blonde reporter who’d been bold enough to even ask me that stupid ass question.
Because of my aggressive response, he’d shriveled a little in his stance before pushing his phone towards my face and asking the question again. And honestly, I wanted to knock his ass out for doing so, making the decision to continue into the arena instead since the last thing I wanted to do was be even more of a distraction as the Nymphs set out to make history in winning the title.
Still, even with good intentions, that didn’t mean I had much control of the situation, Katianna being the first to greet me with an extremely hostile, “Why didn’t you answer any of my calls?!”
One Last Shot (Nymphs & Trojans Series Book 2) Page 18
