Well Mr. Michaels, you’ll have to put a ring on it, if you want it.
She threw her mind back into the game just as Jackson tossed the ball to a teammate. It came back to him and he dribbled down the middle of the court pushing her aside like a rag doll. He then performed a lay up and scored two points.
“That’s what I’m talking about,” Charles, yelped.
“Geneva! Girl, what’s up?” Carlos squawked two octaves higher than normal. He was very competitive when it came to games of any kind—board games, video games and contact sports—and the term “spoilsport” often came to Genny’s mind.
“I said, I GOT THIS,” she responded emphasizing each syllable. She wished that they were playing darts, and he was the target.
“THEN ACT LIKE IT,” he spouted back and stomped to his position. Carlos was the first to admit that he had anger management issues, and today his temper was in full bloom.
Genny could almost see smoke pluming from his ears. Boy was he ever teed off. Carlos gave a cave man grunt, swiped his arm across his forehead, and then stalked from the baseline to guard an opponent in the corner.
“Get focused!” Carlos yelled at her. “They’re whipping our asses and we’re not trying to pay their tab tonight.”
Genny shot him an “I hate you” glare and replied, “Stop whining like a baby.”
In all fairness, Carlos had a right to be upset. She was practically handing the game to Jack’s team. She probably looked pathetic, galloping down the court, winded, sweaty and missing every shot. It was all Aaron’s fault. Her anger should be making her stronger. Instead she felt as if she’d run a half-marathon after fasting for three days.
She drew in deep breaths and swiped the beads of sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. She then flapped her shirt in front of her so the whiffs of air could roil within its folds and dry her stomach.
She stood at the elbow of the court and then bent her body like Jack’s, meeting him eye to eye. He blew her a friendly kiss and she threw the ball to the floor hard enough that it flew at warp speed toward his chin.
“Check,” she sneered. She tossed the ball to him, ready to flip the game in her favor.
Once Jack tossed the ball back to her, the ball was in motion again. Charles blocked a pass from Carlos and tossed the ball to Jack. The ball passed from one member of Jack’s team to another, and then the unbelievable happened—Porsha caught the ball. She stood frozen, like a deer in headlights.
Genny saw red and a wicked grin curved on her lips. Jack yelled at Porsha, wailing his arms hysterically and the rest of his team motioned to her to pass the ball to someone else, ANYONE else. When Porsha didn’t respond to their frantic coaxing, Jack dashed across the floor to intersect Genny.
He was too late…
***
To find out how this ball game ends, and how best friends, Genny and Jack spent their holidays, purchase my eBook, “Countdown to a Kiss” today!
Table of Contents
Other books by the author
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Author’s Note
Excerpt from Countdown to a Kiss
Rescuing Mr. Wright (Texas Treasures) Page 10
