Chapter 17 #3
Jada had said her game was there. Sure enough, she spotted her on the field warming up, light on her feet, more focused than Sevyn had seen her in weeks.
“Let’s go, Jada!” Sevyn called out, drawing the girl’s attention.
Jada turned with a grin, her whole face lighting up when she spotted Sevyn. She looked over at her coach before jogging to the sideline.
“You came!” she said excitedly, throwing her arms around her.
“I couldn’t miss it for the world,” Sevyn said as they hugged. Their last session had marked a breakthrough for Jada. She was technically no longer in need of therapy, but she still came to talk—still wanted to see Sevyn, and Sevyn never turned her away.
“I need two goals,” Sevyn joked, nudging her with a smile.
Jada laughed, but the smile slowly slipped from her face. Her eyes flicked past Sevyn, instantly locking on something—or someone— behind her. Her posture changed, just slightly, like a chill had passed over her.
Sevyn felt it before she saw him. That familiar presence. The stillness. She turned slowly, already knowing.
Hassan.
His cold blue eyes met hers with that same unreadable expression. Stoic. Sharp. And yet… something in them always softened when they landed on her. They didn’t say a word. They didn’t have to. Their eyes did the talking, and her chest answered with a thump she swore he could hear.
“I should get back to my team,” Jada said quietly, pulling Sevyn back to the moment.
Sevyn nodded. “Good luck,” she said softly, watching Jada run back toward her teammates before turning her eyes back to Hassan.
He was still there. Still watching her. Still pulling something out of her without even trying.
"You really came," Sevyn said, surprised as they moved toward the large metal bleachers and sat down .
"I said I was," he replied calmly, his eyes never leaving her. She nodded, trying to swallow the butterflies in her stomach. Even though he sat still, stone-faced like always, she could feel the tension in him. His jaw was tight, and there was stress behind those cold eyes he always tried to hide.
"Why are you staring at me, Sevyn?" he asked suddenly after a long silence, his eyes now locked on the field as the game was about to begin.
"You good?" she asked gently, her voice low.
"This is not a therapy session," Hassan said without looking at her, but she caught the flicker of something in his jaw again. Stress. Pressure. The storm he didn’t want to name.
"I know, but—" she started, but he cut her off before the concern could settle in the air.
"Watch the game, Sevyn." His tone didn’t leave room for argument.
She huffed under her breath, lips pressed into a line as she turned her attention to the field.
They sat in silence, side by side, watching as the game unfolded.
Sevyn cheered hard for Jada—loud, unapologetic, like a big sister on the sidelines.
When Jada accidentally tripped a girl from the opposing team and earned a card, one of the other parents made a loud, passive-aggressive comment under their breath, clearly aimed at her.
“It was an accident, hoe.”
Sevyn didn’t hesitate. She clapped back without thinking, snapping like Jada was her blood.
The parent turned, ready to argue, until their eyes landed on Hassan.
One look from him—cold, detached, and dangerous—was all it took for them to back down and sit quiet.
Sevyn didn’t even notice the silent exchange.
She was locked in, shouting and cheering like her voice was made for the sidelines.
When Jada scored again, Sevyn jumped up with both arms raised. "THAT’S MY JADA BOO!" she yelled, drawing attention from the crowd and even earning a rare chuckle from Hassan.
Once she finally sat back down, still breathless, he looked at her. “She yo little sister or some’?”
“No,” Sevyn said, eyes still on the field. “She’s one of my clients.” Hassan blinked, surprised. The girl out there—confident, bright, full of energy—didn’t look like someone carrying weight on her spirit. But it made him feel something he didn’t expect.
Seen. Understood. Maybe he wasn’t the only one walking around haunted.
The game ended with a 6–3 win, and Jada’s team erupted into cheers across the field. Sevyn and Hassan waited by the sidelines, and when Jada spotted them, she ran over, her face glowing with pride. Sevyn pulled her into a hug the second she got close .
“You did great!” she said, grinning.
“Thank you, Sevyn,” Jada replied, still catching her breath, her cheeks flushed from the game.
“We’re going out to eat with the team to celebrate,” she added, then hesitated, her fingers fidgeting nervously. “But I’m a little nervous.”
Sevyn knew exactly why. The last time Jada celebrated with her team, she was the only one who walked away alive.
Without hesitation, Sevyn reached for her hands, holding them gently.
“Jada, this isn’t going to be like last time,” she said softly, locking eyes with her.
“You’ll be surrounded by your teammates, coaches, and their families.
You’ll be sitting down, eating, laughing—no one’s going to hurt you or anyone else, okay? ”
Jada’s eyes flicked to Sevyn, then to Hassan, who stood just behind her—silent, unreadable, but watching everything.
“How do you know for sure?” Jada asked, her voice fragile, still laced with fear.
“Because we gon’ be a table over,” Hassan spoke up, his tone low and certain.
Even he shocked himself.
But something about Jada reminded him of Harper—maybe it was the innocence in her eyes, the way she kept her guard up but still let herself feel. Or maybe it was the way Sevyn looked at her… like she wasn’t just a client, but someone she truly cared about.
Whatever the reason, Hassan knew one thing for sure—he wanted Jada to feel protected.
Safe.
Especially if Sevyn cared that much. And that was all the reason he needed.
Sevyn turned to him, surprised. She hadn’t expected him to say anything—definitely not that.
Jada blinked at him. “Ion know you,” she said, her voice soft but carrying that edge of teenage attitude.
“San,” he said simply, introducing himself.
Sevyn stood there, stunned at the interaction. Hassan, who barely spoke to anyone, who stayed locked in his own world, had just stepped into Jada’s. And the way he looked at her—it wasn’t cold. It was soft. Protective.
“Jada,” she replied with a small smile, then nodded at him.
“Well, we will be there too,” Sevyn added, watching the tension slowly melt off Jada’s shoulders.
“Okay,” Jada whispered, finally allowing herself to believe it. “Come on, Jada!” one of her teammates called from the field. “We’re eating at Beale Sports Bar,” Jada informed them, her voice brighter now, excitement returning .
Hassan pulled a stack of hundreds from his pocket and peeled one off without blinking, holding it out to her.
Jada looked hesitant. “I don’t want to take your money.”
Sevyn laughed quietly as she caught Hassan’s look, already knowing what he wasn’t going to say.
“Girl, take it. He doesn’t repeat himself, and he damn sure ain’t explaining,” Sevyn joked.
Jada smiled shyly and took the bill. “Thank you.”
“We’ll see you there,” Sevyn said, hugging her again before watching her jog off toward her team.
As they watched her go, Sevyn glanced at Hassan, heart still full from watching him be something she wasn’t used to seeing.
Present. Gentle. Real.
Sevyn had a smile tugging at her lips. “That was sweet of you,” she said softly, her voice full of warmth. He didn’t respond, just looked at her—slowly, from head to toe—admiring without a word.
“You ready?” he asked, his tone smooth, effortless. She chuckled. “Are you inviting me to lunch, friend?”
He looked away like he was fighting a smile. “Mane, come on.”
Sevyn laughed, nudging him as they headed toward her car. “I don’t know why you keep playing hard to get. You know you wanna be my friend.”
He didn’t respond, but the silence said everything. As they reached her car, Hassan opened her door like it was second nature. She stepped in, and when he closed it behind her, she realized she'd been holding her breath the entire time. Only when the door shut did she finally exhale.
There was something about him—his energy, his presence.
It always did something to her. Watching him earlier, so at ease during the game, the softness he showed Jada without even trying, his quiet generosity— it warmed her in ways she didn’t want to name.
The more time she spent around Hassan, the more she peeled him back.
And what she found underneath all that cold, hard exterior? It wasn’t scary. It was real.
She followed behind him as he sped through traffic, his black Bentley flying down the street like the man driving it had nothing but muscle and instinct guiding him.
They arrived quicker than expected. Sevyn parked, stepping out just as Jada and her teammates filed into the restaurant ahead of them, buzzing with energy.
Moments later, Hassan’s Bentley pulled up with that deep rumble she could feel in her chest. He parked beside her, stepped out—and her breath caught, like it always did. He was just… too damn fine.
They walked inside and got a table close to Jada’s group. Sevyn noticed how Hassan’s eyes kept shifting toward Jada’s table, casually scanning, making sure she was okay. He didn’t say anything. Didn’t try t o be obvious. But he was watching her—protecting her without needing praise.
And that quiet protectiveness?
That made Sevyn smile without even realizing it.
The waiter came and took their food and drink orders, leaving them alone again.
“So you gon’ tell me what was wrong with you earlier?” Hassan asked, his eyes locked on her, unblinking.
Sevyn looked at him like he was speaking another language. “There was nothing wrong with me.”
She said it too fast, too tight. She tried to play it cool, but the way his jaw flexed and his eyes stayed fixed on her like a lie detector told her it didn’t land. He knew.