“Son, you did your best. You’ll make it next time,” Dad said. He reached out to put his hands on my shoulders and hug me.
“Thanks Dad, but I’m not really in the mood to talk with everybody now. You mind if I skip out on dinner?” I asked.
He nodded, glancing at my mom.
“You know she’s going to call you first thing in the morning to see how you're feeling. Don’t shut us out,” he said.
“I know, let me talk to Kamara really quickly.”
“Sure,” Dad said.
Kamara walked over and stood on her toes to give me a kiss.
“I’m sorry about the game,” she said.
“Yeah, I know.”
“Are you going to your parents? I can follow you,” Kamara said.
“I need some alone time if you don’t mind.”
“Away from me?” she asked.
“I just need to get my mind right, it’s a lot happening and I’m fucked up about the game.”
“I understand, but it might be good to talk it out.” She ran her hand up my chin and stared in my eyes.
“I’ll call you.” I pressed a kiss on her lips and walked off to Savion’s car and waited for him to open the door while he talked with Sutton. I avoided my sister’s glare and Kamara as I scrolled through my phone. A few minutes later Savion unlocked the door of his Jeep and we got in and he drove off.
“You know that was fucked up right?” Savion said, driving with one hand on the wheel.
“What are you talking about?”
I looked at the missed text messages from women saying how they can make me feel better and that I should break up with my girlfriend and focus on the game more. One DM popped up from Kaci of her naked and pleasing herself while she watched the championship game.
“Kamara and that bullshit excuse of you needing space.”
“Yeah, I agree with Savion and you know I don’t do relationships. But that was a low blow brother,” Reuben started from the backseat.
“She’ll be fine.” I closed my messages. Tabitha’s name came up with a voice message alert.
“I know your head is all screwed up, but we’ll get them next time,” Savion told me.
I bit the inside of my cheek. I couldn’t believe I’d fumbled so much in a game against Julian, and it had been on national TV for the world to see.
“He’s never going to let me live this down.” I banged my hand against the door.
“D, you break my window you’re paying for a new car,” Savion said.
“Plus, paying for my emotional abuse.”
“What the fuck do your emotions have to do with his window?” I turned in my seat and looked at him.
“I mean you acting up might cause me to not get laid tonight,” Reuben muttered, and I flipped him off.
“Bro don’t make me kick your ass. You and my sister aren’t hiding anything if that’s what you're trying to do. Everyone knows about you two.”
“I wasn’t hiding, your sister wanted to keep us low key,” Reuben complained.
Savion pulled up to my place forty minutes later and I slapped hands with him and Reuben and stepped out, strolled through the main entrance and walked by the receptionist desk.
“Sorry about the game tonight, Mr. Hunt,” the receptionist said.
“Thanks.” I kept my head down, not paying her any mind.
“If you need some company let me know. I’m off in ten minutes,” she flirted.
I hit the button to my floor and jumped when the door opened.
“Not in the mood for company.”
She leaned over the desk as the doors closed.
“If you change your mind! Call me,” she replied.
I lifted my phone out of my pocket and texted Kamara as soon as I stepped off the elevator. I turned the corner and opened my condo door.
Me: Sorry about earlier.
My Baby: Are you all right?
Me: I fucked it up tonight.
My Baby: Can I come over?
Me: I’ll call you tomorrow.
My Baby: Don’t shut me out, D.
My Baby: I’m not, Kamara. I just need a minute.
I kicked off my shoes, placed my bag next to the door and went to the kitchen to grab a case of beer and drink the night away. I turned the TV onto FSNG and watched the response from the commentators.
My Baby: I’m here if you need me.
I didn’t respond and just turned my phone off, kicked my feet up on the ottoman and sat in the chair as the highlights rolled.
“This was the worst performance of his career. The question is can he come back from this?” Ronnell sat on a panel with the usual crew of idiots that talk trash from Ben Simmons, Charles Adams, and Sean Camps.
“Listen, based on what I know and see he needs to just lay low and let someone fresh and new come in as quarterback,” Ben said. I gulped down the first beer and popped a second open.
“I think he’s at that age to possibly retire soon,” Sean rebutted.
“Normally Ben I’d agree with you, but I think he had an off night,” Charles rebutted.
“I doubt that Charles, you have a soft spot for the team. I’m telling you Julian is the one to watch. Besides, Donovan’s too in love with that little writer. I mean the girl is so dowdy,” Ben joked. They all laughed.
“I’ve heard she’s some reporter in LA,” Sean said.
“You have to give it to him. She's beautiful though,” Ronnell said.
“Yeah, but she’s a distraction, and it shows in the way he played tonight—and even at the National Championship before making it here. He was off, and I was the only one who told him to his face,” Ben said.
“You did—and almost got knocked out tonight,” Charles taunted.
I finished my beer and turned the TV off. I stood, dropping the bottle in the trash and going to the bedroom to pass out.
“Is she a distraction,” I mumbled to myself and moved the pillow under my arms that Kamara used last time she was here. It still smelled like her as I dozed off to sleep.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
“Donovan Hunt open this door now!
Bang! Bang!
I turned in the bed, checked the time, and saw it was after nine in the morning. I rubbed my head and got out of bed and scratched my stomach and yawned.
“Donovan! Donovan!”
“Luna.”
“You better open this door before I break it down,” Luna yelled.
I came out of my room and walked down the staircase. I headed to the door and unlocked it to see Luna standing there with a harsh look on her face. She pushed me in the chest and shut the door.
“What are you doing here?”
“The question should be why are you acting like an ass to my best friend,” Luna demanded.
I turned and walked off as she talked, and went to the kitchen to make some coffee before I got my day started.
“Luna are you really here to yell at me after what happened yesterday?” I picked up the coffee filter and poured water in the espresso machine and set the timer.
“If it makes you feel any better. Sorry about your game, now back to you hurting my friend,” Luna said.
“I’ll call her and apologize.”
“Not good enough.”
“Listen, I don’t need you down my throat!” The timer went off and I poured the coffee and took a sip as I closed my eyes.
“Someone needs to remind you before you lose everything,” Luna snapped.
“We’re fine. I just need a few days to get my head clear.”
“You did this back in college and cut everyone off for a few days when you lost some games. I thought you would have grown out of the pity party and manned up. It’s a game, okay you lost one,” Luna fussed, with her hands on her hips.
“Luna, not right now. I have enough from the reporters and sports analysts telling me how bad I fucked up; I don’t need my sister coming in here to do the same.”
“Then call your girlfriend an
d talk to her about your feelings.” Luna picked up my cordless house phone and held it out for me. We had a stare off and I shook my head and walked out of the kitchen.
“Where are you going?” She extended her arm and turned me around to face her.
“I have work to do for a commercial shoot.”
“Are you planning on reaching out to Kam today?”
“Drop it, Luna.”
“If you fuck this up, don’t blame this on me.” Luna pointed in my face.
“Thanks for letting me know.”
She waved me off and grabbed her purse to walk out of my apartment. I went back to my bedroom, jumped in the shower, and changed to get over to the location for the shoot that Sutton texted me a few days ago.
Two hours later I finally showed up. Even though I was late because of traffic, Sutton didn’t take my excuses and reamed me out for the past twenty minutes.
“Do you know how bad this looks on me and my business?” Sutton complained.
“I said I was sorry, Sutton.”
The wardrobe stylist double checked the shoes as I stood in front of a white backdrop with the logo of Millennium sports gear. I wore football gear from pants, shoes, and white t-shirt with their logo on the front.
“Your sorrys are getting real old, Donovan.”
“Are you going to yell at me like Luna did?”
“Someone should, because you're pushing everyone away.”
“The biggest game of my career and we lose. Sorry if I’m not in a fucking cheery mood.”
“We get it, you didn’t play your best, but that doesn’t mean you take it out on the rest of the people that care about you,” Sutton said.
“Have you talked to Paolo?”
“He emailed and asked if I could look into you doing an interview with Ben,” Sutton said.
“That’s not happening.”
“We’re all set to shoot,” the director said. He brought in two women to stand beside me, wearing only bikini bottoms and sports bras with their logo on them.
“Let’s get through this first and then we can worry about everything else later.”
“How long is this going to take?” I asked.
“I don’t know. Is there something more important you need to be doing?” Sutton huffed.
“What happened with Kaci?” I inquired, changing the subject.
“I fired her crazy ass. You should have told me she was coming on to you like that.”
“I know, but you had a lot going on, and I got wrapped up in Kamara and the game, then I forgot.”
“Kamara was the one that sent me the article,” Sutton explained.
“Have you talked to her?”
“No, but we usually have dinner once a month,” Sutton said.
“Mr. Hunt, I need you to just say the lines and look straight ahead,” the director said.
A woman standing next to the camera held up white cards with writing and Sutton stepped out of the frame and watched.
“Action!” the director yelled.
“If you want to be like me, then Millennium Sports gear is what you need. Get into the gear,” I said and looked at both women and smiled as they put their hands on the top of my shoulders and smiled at me. Then I glanced back at the camera and winked.
“Cut. One more take, make sure you pull them in close to you,” the director explained.
I nodded, coughed, and started to do another take. This went on for seven hours, with different wardrobe changes throughout the day. They captured a few shots of me running in place, holding a football, and posing in the gear.
Once I finished for the day, I left and headed to Mickey’s to grab something to eat. As soon as I made it to the restaurant, my phone rang, and I saw Paolo’s name flash across the screen. It was going on five in the afternoon and I was beat for the day.
“Hey.”
“You're a hard man to get a hold of, bro,” Paolo said.
I opened the restaurant door and saw Mickey talking to a waitress. We made eye contact and nodded. I went to my usual spot.
“Sorry, had a long day at the shoot.”
“Plus, a long night on the field.”
“Savion told you.”
“A little, sorry I missed the game. I had a family thing and flew out of town,” Paolo stated.
The waitress came over and sat a menu down in front of me.
“Can I get a burger and fries, well done,” I told her and she took the menu back and walked off to the kitchen.
“How is everything looking?”
“No matter what, you have two years left on your contract. They didn’t like the way you handled yourself,” Paolo explained.
“I know, fighting with my own team and coach.”
“Plus punching a reporter.”
“Ben’s not a reporter; he’s a scumbag.”
“Doesn’t matter, people listen to him and he brings in ratings.”
“I’m not looking to be his best friend and go on his show.”
“You should.”
“Is this my agent talking or my best friend?”
“It’s both, look Donovan, you look like a sore loser right now in the media and to your team.”
“Ugh…” I ran a hand through my hair.
“Think about it and call me later on what you decide,” Paolo said and hung up the phone.
I went to social media and saw what was being said about me.
@losangeleshawks: Donovan Hunt is making the team worse.
@HuntforLosangeles: I had an off night.
@JulianA: Donovan couldn’t handle me or my team. LOL! He could learn some tips from me.
The comments went on and on to the point I was ready to step in and reply to them. But that would only make things worse for me and I didn’t need the coach or management fining me for getting into fights online.
“I thought that was you sitting here.” I looked up and saw Tabitha holding a shopping bag in her hand.
“You mind if I sit?” she asked.
“Sure.”
“Thanks, it was a long day and I still have a lot more to do today,” Tabitha said.
“What are you doing today?”
“I was helping my parents out by shopping for my sister’s baby shower.”
“I didn’t know you had a sister,” I said.
“Well, when we were together, we never really talked that much.” She chuckled.
The waitress came back out with my Coke.
“Hi, I’m Samantha, can I get your order?” the waitress said. Tabitha looked at me for confirmation if she could eat with me and the place wasn’t too crowded, and she wasn’t annoying like usual, so I shrugged my shoulders giving her the okay.
“Can I get whatever he’s having?”
“The burger and fries?” Samantha said.
“Yes please,” Tabitha replied and Samantha strolled back to the kitchen to get her a drink.
“What’s that look for?” I said as she grinned at me.
“You didn’t kick me out.”
“I’ve done enough damage with people.”
“I understand, my parents reamed me out about the interview I did,” Tabitha said.
“Why’d you do it?”
“You.” Samantha came back to the booth and sat a Coke in front of Tabitha.
“What do you mean?”
“Thank you. Your rejection kind of bruised my ego,” Tabitha said, pushing her straw into her cup.
“How many men have you been with since me?” I sat back in the booth and crossed my arms waiting for an answer.
“I’m not answering that question. How many women have you been with?” Tabitha argued.
“Not a lot, besides two or three here and there. Kamara’s the most serious one though.”
“I know.”
I caught her looking sad at that comment.
“Tabitha we’re having a decent conversation, let's not go back down memory lane.”
“I promise I won't, but what is it about
her that has you going crazy.”
“She’s simple.”
“That’s it.”
“Unlike some women in my past, she doesn’t try to impress me or be something she’s not. I can talk with her about simple things and not feel like I need to be some bigtime athlete. I can just be Donovan,” I said.
“I could do those things,” Tabitha said. I tilted my head at her and curled my top lip.
She chortled and raised her hand, covering her mouth.
Samantha came back to our table and placed her food down.
“Okay, maybe I was a little conceited in the beginning. But I can change.”
“That’s the thing; I don’t want you to change for me or anybody else. You have to want something more for yourself.”
“You're right. I’ve been running behind you for so long trying to compete when we really aren’t a good match for each other.”
“So, you're going to stop doing these interviews?”
“Yes, it’s not worth it honestly, Julian paid me to do them and say those things.”
My eyes rose in shock.
“Explain that to me again?”
“Julian paid me to show up at Bar Cutz and those other places. He wanted to rattle your cage before the game.”
“That son of a bitch.”
“Sorry Donovan, I didn’t think it would lead to us sitting here together actually having a conversation,” Tabitha said.
“Yeah.”
“Can we start over and be friends at least?” Tabitha asked.
“Friends only, nothing sexual,” I responded and we clicked glasses together and talked for the rest of the afternoon about her sister’s baby and her future plans of going back to school. After we finished eating and I paid for our food I walked her out of the restaurant and to her car when a photographer sitting in a car on the corner of the restaurant took photos of us.
“Damn, it never ends for you,” Tabitha said and put her bags in the backseat.
“Not really, but at this point it’s life until I retire.”
“Go make up with your girl and tell her this business can be rough and manipulative,” Tabitha said. She reached over and gave me a hug as more cameras clicked.
I flipped them off and watched as she got in her car and pulled off. I left to talk to Savion about the interview idea before going to talk with Kamara and apologize.
She's All I Need(A Sports Romance) Page 11
