Cam

 

I should have been focused today. Should have been calm and collected and completely centered for the BelV game tonight. But I was none of those things.

Instead, I was on edge. Wired.

Both of those were dangerous for a game like this.

This game was already hyped up a million degrees. The media, as usual, had descended on the event and the players like vultures. The energy from fans was both deafening and overwhelming the second you walked out onto that court. It could mess with a player’s head, distract him. There was a difference between being in the zone and being on edge. And being wired? Well, that just invited unpredictability, whether in your game or in your temperament.

None of that was a good recipe when I was about to go face-to-face with Warren. But I hadn’t been able to get his words out of my head ever since Reese and I had run into him at the hot springs the other day.

After all, it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve undressed for me.

Thinking about him having seen any part of Reese naked—hell, touching any part of her naked body—had my mind reeling, ready to pound him into a damn coma.

Son of a bitch.

I had to stop thinking about it or this whole night was going to go to shit.

It didn’t help that I hadn’t been around Reese much since that afternoon. She’d gone to visit her mom in Virginia over the weekend, and we’d barely seen each other yesterday at practice. We’d exchanged random texts, but we’d both been so busy they never went past the surface. And with the insane events of today, I hadn’t had a single glimpse of her. I knew if I could see her for just a minute it would help calm me down. I pulled out my phone and sent her a quick text.

Me: Bathroom across from the training room. Two minutes.

We were at BelV’s stadium, but I’d been in this locker room enough times to know the layout of this arena. Unlike our home tunnel, BelV’s opponent training room was down the hall from the locker room. There was a small private bathroom across from it for the trainers.

I looked down when my phone chimed with a message.

Reese: I’ll be there.

I was already breathing easier. It was only twenty minutes until game time, and we were all waiting for Coach to come in for his pre-game speech. It wasn’t the best timing, but I needed to see her. I stood up and headed for the door.

“Where you going, Cam?” Jesse asked.

I was strung so tight my instinctual response was to tell him it was none of his goddamn business.

“Think I need extra support for my knee tonight,” I said. “It’s bothering me a little. I’m going to go get it taped real quick.”

His brow furrowed. He knew that I never left the team this close to game time. This was very out of the norm for me, and I could tell he wanted to call me out on it.

“Just hurry back, man. If Coach comes in and sees you gone he’ll be pissed.”

Keeping my expression blank, I just nodded and left the room. I pounded down the hall, a sense of urgency creeping into my veins. I needed to get my hands on Reese right now. Luckily, she was already in the bathroom by the time I walked through the door, locking it behind me.

She appeared worried as she watched me. “Is everything ok—?”

I didn’t stop charging forward until I had her mouth held prisoner beneath mine. I felt her surprise quickly melt into pleasure as our tongues dueled, languidly stroking one another. When she wound her arms around me I stayed her hands, knowing this had to end before either of us wanted it to.

She pulled away first. “I thought you wanted this to be a secret. Someone could catch us in here.”

Feeling some of the tension leave my shoulders at our proximity, I sighed and leaned back against the door, taking her with me.

“I just wanted a few seconds alone with you. I’m finding it difficult to concentrate when I don’t see or talk to you for an extended amount of time.”

She seemed to like hearing that. “We texted each other last night.”

Yeah, for like two minutes.

“That wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough.”

“Well, would it help if I told you I was thinking about inviting you back to my place after the game tonight?” she asked, smiling coyly.

Holy motherfuck.

That was a big step. Wasn’t it? It sounded sort of relationship-y, invading each other’s personal spaces. Unless it was just for sex. I was used to going over to chicks’ houses for hookups because I never wanted them at my place. They tended to want to get cozy and cuddle, and I didn’t want to deal with getting rid of them come morning. But I already knew Reese wasn’t the clingy type.

Instead of her invitation sending me into a panic spiral, it actually thrilled me.

“I’d say you’ve given me something else to distract myself with now,” I choked out.

Did I want this to be more of a relationship-y thing? I’d said from the beginning I didn’t have time for a relationship. But I’d been making time for Reese, hadn’t I?

Hell, that was the very last thing I needed to be thinking about right before the biggest game of the season. So far.

She grinned, tipping her head at the door. “Get out there, Donovan. And give ‘em hell.”

Feeling much more grounded, I bent down to give her one last kiss. “You got it, sweetheart.”

 

***

“All right, we’re switching to man-to-man,” Coach announced after three minutes into the third quarter. “Their shooters are lights-out tonight and we need to tighten up the defense. Put some pressure on them!”

I nodded as sweat poured down my face. I wiped my forehead with the towel around my neck, grateful for the television commercial timeout because BelV had come out of halftime with guns blazing.

The game had been close from the beginning, but we’d managed to score a quick eight points right before half, leaving the court with extra momentum. Now, that momentum had shifted in BelV’s favor, and I wanted it stopped before more damage was done.

“Newton, you’re on Henderson,” Coach said to Boyd, referring to the player he’d be guarding. He went through the others and addressed me last. “Donovan, you’ve got Warren.”

Obviously. He was their best player and I was ours. Aside from Colt, I had the quickest feet on defense. And Warren and I were the closest in size.

“Watch for the pump-fake to the left at the top of the key,” he said. “He hasn’t been driving to the basket much all night, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he starts changing it up.”

I nodded my understanding and put my hand in the circle to break it down. I caught Reese’s eye at the end of the bench, her presence somehow anchoring me in the moment. Knowing that she was there close, watching the entire game from a few feet away relieved something in my head. Especially when she gave me an encouraging smile.

The five of us took the court to the sound of erupting cheers from the mass of fans packed in the arena. BelV’s stadium was known for its heightened atmosphere and crazy acoustics. We were lucky if we could even hear each other’s voices on the court during these rivalry games.

And you could feel the rivalry between our teams. Hell, between our fans.

Over the years, it had developed into a deep-seated hatred, for both sides. You were either an NCU fan or a BelV fan. You couldn’t be both. And the fans took these games as seriously as sports could possibly get. Every time we played each other, fights broke out, tears were shed, and animosity was strengthened at the end of each night. A victory over our rival meant a lot not only to us as players, but also to our entire community.

This shit was no joke.

It was some of the worst pressure a player could ever have on his shoulders. It didn’t matter if one team was higher in the rankings than the other. Records didn’t mean anything whenever our two teams met up because we treated the game like it was the last one we would ever play.

Right now we were down by five points. It was really anybody’s game, so there was no room for mistakes. It was BelV’s ball when the ref blew the whistle, and we all settled into defense.

The first reaction I got from Warren when he realized I was now guarding him was a vicious sneer. I swear I hated the bastard so much.

Block it out.

He was nothing, no one. Just another player I had to keep from scoring on me.

Block it out.

He didn’t know Reese. Had never touched her. Didn’t know what it was like to hold her in his arms.

Block it—

“Come to be my little bitch boy, Donovan?” he said, keeping his voice low.

I didn’t give a reaction. One, he wanted me to, wanted to see me riled and get under my skin so I would slip up. Two, I knew one of these refs from past games, and I knew for a fact that he had absolutely no tolerance for trash talking. The only problem was that he was at the baseline and couldn’t hear any of it. The other two refs I wasn’t sure about.

Plus, I never resorted to trash talking. I never needed to. If I wanted to get under a player’s skin, I did it with my game. I let my skills speak for themselves. Basketball was just as much of a mental game as it was physical—like any other sport—but I never went in for the verbal attack.

Of course…hearing Warren say that shit to me had a profoundly different effect than anything anyone else could have said.

He scissor dribbled between his legs, his feet and hands moving like lightning. Ever since he was a kid he’d always been one of the quickest point guards I’d ever seen. I’d known his game for twenty years, though. I knew all of his tells and tricks.

“Yeah, what?” he said louder. “What are you going to do? You can’t touch me. This is my fucking house.”

And so went the entire third quarter and the first half of the fourth. The trash talking ensued, no whistles were ever blown, and I kept my cool. Amazingly. Sure, it rankled on my nerves big time, but I’d been able to block it out for the most part and hold him to only two points for all that time.

That was until he put Reese in the middle of it.

I should have seen it coming. BelV was down my seven points and the clock was winding down. So, he brought up the one thing he knew would knock me off-kilter.

“I’ve had my hands on her tits, you know,” he snarled. I was guarding him close, our faces basically right next to each other. “She practically shoved them at me. She likes having her nipples pinched.”

My jaw clenched, my heart thumping wildly as I fought to control the urge to lash out.

Block it out.

He passed the ball to another player, and I chased him below the basket to the other side of the court. By the time he caught the pass, I was already set up in front of him.

“Her pussy was so wet for me when I got my hand in her panties. The way I tongue-fucked her mouth had her dripping for me.”

Breathing through my nose like a bull, I stepped into him and got a little more physical. Not enough to draw a foul, but enough to let him know he better shut the fuck up because I wasn’t going to take his shit.

He just laughed.

Block it out.

After a few more trips down the court, we were still up by five and that’s when he really started laying it on.

“She had her legs wrapped around me so tight, grinding her pussy on my dick. She wanted me to fuck her with it so bad. The bitch was desperate for it.”

I needed him to shut his goddamn mouth or I was going to erupt like a volcano. I was clawing for any morsel of self-control. I couldn’t focus on the ball in his hands anymore, or what I thought his next move was going to be. All I could think about was Reese’s legs wrapped around him and his hands on her breasts.

Block it out.

“And do you know what she moaned when I had my fingers so deep inside her tight pussy?” He leaned forward to get in my face, keeping the dribble out of my reach. “She said, ‘Oh, Trey. That feels so good.’”

Block. It. Ou—

I couldn’t. He went up for a shot and I fucking lost it.

I jumped up to block the shot but didn’t completely aim for the ball. My elbow ended up knocking him in the face, sending him stumbling backwards, his hands flying to his nose. All the refs’ whistles blew, and the BelV players started approaching me. That brought my guys crowding in, ready to take my back.

“Flagrant!” the nearest ref called. “That’s a flagrant one foul!”

A flagrant foul, meaning a serious personal foul in which excessive or unnecessary contact was made. It meant Warren was going to get two free throws and BelV would take possession of the ball.

I didn’t contest it. I just stood there, staring the son of a bitch down with fisted hands in case he wanted to take a go at me. He smiled through a bloody nose and took a step forward. Hands and arms immediately came around me, holding me back in the event that I lunged for him.

“You made your point, man,” Jesse said into my ear. “Let it go.”

His words were sinking in. Until Warren’s gaze focused on something over my shoulder. It was subtle and I doubted anyone but me noticed because I was watching him so closely. He fucking blew a kiss toward our bench. I didn’t turn around, but I knew exactly who that kiss was meant for.

Reese.

The fucker was still taunting me. I went rigid all over again and Jesse felt it.

“You want to stay in the game,” he said. “Come on. Walk away.”

That was the moment the refs stepped between us, pushing us back, and I heard Coach’s voice from the bench hollering my name. I had to remain on the court while Warren took both of his shots—which he made—and then Coach called a timeout. He only had eyes for me. Go figure.

“Your head in the game, Donovan?” he shouted.

“Yes, sir.”

“You sure? Because it sure as hell didn’t look like it to me! I know it’s intense out there and I know Warren’s been talking smack all half. But you have to be stronger up here.” He pointed at my forehead. “You do no good to this team if you let his shit get in your head. Control your anger! Focus on the damn game! If you can’t do that and you’d rather let personal shit get in the way, I’ll put someone in who will focus on his job. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

Get your head out of your ass.

He was absolutely right. I’d completely lost my cool, and I knew I was going to pay for it in so many different ways. Guaranteed it was the only thing I would get asked about at the post-game press conference. Worst of all, I was going to have to play the rest of the game with Warren knowing he’d gotten to me and thinking he now had the upper hand.

Just before I stepped back out onto the court, I stupidly glanced down the bench at Reese. I hadn’t meant to. I’d planned to avoid her for the rest of the night after that incident. But I screwed up and looked at her. I could see a million different emotions in her expression: concern, sympathy, anxiety, maybe even a little anger.

An image of Warren’s mouth on hers unwittingly flashed through my mind.

Fuck.

There went my head, right back up my ass again.

 

***

 

We lost.

We lost the game by three points.

We now had two losses on our record.

Warren was inside my head.

And I had no clue what to do about Reese.