Chapter Fourteen
Nola
Present Day
“Daya, I feel like I’m being punked.” I said as soon as we got into our SUV headed to my new home.
“This is the most unprepared I’ve ever been.” My best friend answered, and I could see how today had rattled her too.
We were sane people. Born into athletic families, we knew the definition of calm, cool, and collected. What it meant to have a clear head during adversity.
But the Miami Waves were besting us.
Between Tashi Blade not holding back, Brittney fighting with me in front of the media, and the “final surprise,” I actually thought I might crack.
I took the time to admire Miami; the Waves’ arena was two blocks from South Beach. I wanted to take a dip and sink my feet into the sand—anything to try and forget the amount of animosity Brittney had for me. Maybe walk in the sand like zen yogis did.
“At what point did you think Brittney would bite your head off?” Daya asked, her attempt at breaking the mood. There was nothing like good ol’ gossip between us.
“I would say when that woman asked who’d be more comfortable forfeiting the guard position to play forward.”
“Really? I was thinking as soon as Tashi introduced you first.”
“You’re right. I think I did see her clench her fist.” I rolled my eyes at her.
“Why is she a pain in the ass?” Daya snorted, finally unrestrained.
My stomach flipped at the diss, though I knew Daya meant well.
Brittney was a pain in the ass. I just didn’t think I liked other people saying it.
I hadn’t told a soul about four years ago.
I held that night close for many reasons, but the thought of talking about the most electric kiss I’d ever had, that had resulted in hatred blooming between us made me clench my jaw.
But instead of defending her, I rolled my shoulders. “She’s the middle child.”
“There’s more of her?” Daya gasped. I loved her, but now she was teetering on annoying me.
“Well, you know Aaliyah and Amir, and then there’s two little sisters, I think.”
“And how do you know so much?”
“We bonded a lot at that tournament.” I stated flippantly. If there was one person who would dig, boundaries be damned, it’s Daya.
“That was seven years ago.”
“Your point?”
“You can barely remember my favorite color.”
“Red.”
“Wrong, orange.”
“I was close!”
“I’m your best friend! The matching piercing I let slide, but why do I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me.”
“And I’ll never forget it.” I smiled flirtatiously, my best attempt to distract her from not acknowledging her suspicion. “Wait, enough about me, what was up with you and Nina?”
Daya had gone back to typing on her phone but at the mention of Nina’s name, she paused and cleared her throat.
“We matched a while back—nothing came out of it,” Daya rambled.
“When were you in Miami?”
“When I was off spending the bonus you gave me.” Daya flipped her long curly hair, the blonde highlights layered in her dark hair made her look sunkissed.
“Mhmm…”
Daya and I didn’t hide much, if anything, from each other. She knew all my dirty laundry, though minimal, and vice versa. The only reason I hadn’t told her my backstory was because…well, I’d just never brought it up.
But if she was going to hold back about Nina, then I’d do the same.
Maybe there were a few things we weren’t ready to open up about yet.
The SUV stopped in front of a stunning highrise, right outside of the art district.
The luggage I’d sent ahead should be upstairs in my new apartment by now, but it didn’t seem like Nina was in a rush to hand us keys and see us off.
The seven of us crowded into the elevator and somehow Brittney and I ended up in the back, shoulder to shoulder.
This was more people than I’d like to fit in a potential death trap.
From here, I could tell she smelled like citrus and sugar.
Nina was pressed against my front, but I couldn’t even catch the smell of her hair products when Brittney’s scent overpowered me.
A burst of bright and sweet, like you could get your daily wakeup rush from her skin.
Like I could lick her and my tastebuds would explode from the sensation.
Why am I thinking about her skin?
Nina pressed the button for the fifteenth floor, and the elevator jostled us up.
My fingers brushed against Brittney’s hand, and a literal electric shock passed through our skin.
I swore I heard her yip, and I hissed at the surprise sensation.
But there was nowhere for us to move our hands.
The shock didn’t stop either—it was like I was touching a live wire that I shouldn’t be.
I glanced to my peripheral, knowing I wasn’t the only one feeling this, and I spotted Brittney biting her bottom lip.
Was I hurting her? This didn’t feel like pain for me, but I’d never felt a sensation like this before. I had touched plenty of people before and haven’t felt like I was getting shocked back to life like a medical drama show.
I opened my mouth to ask Brittney if she was okay, words I never thought I’d speak to her, but someone else cleared their throat, and I turned to see Daya shooting me daggers.
I struggled to move my hands to my pockets to avoid any further problems.
The elevator glided to a stop and then the doors slid open, revealing a sleek hallway with floor to ceiling windows that overlooked the art district. Nina led the group and Marcello flanked the back, his hands busy holding two cameras again.
I was definitely about to get punked.
Nina stopped the group in the hallway and if it wasn’t for the way she was clutching her iPad and notebook combo, I’d think the day was finally coming to an end.
“Alright! Given both of your contract signings were…unconventional, we’ll be putting you both up in team housing in this fabulous building.”
I had to be neighbors with Brittney. No way.
“And given the animosity between the two of you, Tashi, the GM, and the owners think it’d be best if you two lived together.”
You have got to be—