Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
M ichael lowered his shoulder and drove to the basket, spinning away from his defender and dunking the ball so hard the rim vibrated in his hands.
“ Game! ” his teammates crowed, celebrating with whoops and high fives as Magnum Wolf wagged his head, disgusted with himself for getting torched on the play.
“Damn, bro, how you let him posterize you like that?” Mason Wolf complained. The Falcons’ star wide receiver was fiercely competitive and a perpetual sore loser. “We were so damn close to tying the game. You gotta block that shot.”
“Chill, Pipsqueak.” Grinning, Michael shook Magnum’s hand and gave him a shoulder bump. “Good game, man.”
“Nah, don’t lie to him. Dude got cooked.”
Magnum scowled at his younger brother. “I scored more buckets than you.”
“’Cause you ain’t play no defense,” Mason shot back. “Every time I looked around, Mike was breaking your ankles.”
Magnum waved him off. “Whatever, bum.”
Raucous laughter reverberated through the gym, which was located on the lower level of Manning Wolf’s biotech company. The indoor basketball court was one of many perks his employees enjoyed. It was Saturday, so the building was closed and mostly deserted, giving them the run of the place.
“It’s okay, son,” Stan Wolf consoled Magnum. “We all know you had a tough assignment guarding Mike. Let’s not forget he was All-American in high school, and there’s a reason he and Manny broke records at Morehouse.”
“I broke more,” Manning couldn’t resist grumbling.
“Aww,” Michael taunted. “You mad ’cause y’all lost?”
Manning flipped him the double bird.
Michael just laughed, wiping his sweaty brow with the hem of his shirt.
Quentin sidled up beside him, grinning as he slung an arm around his neck. “Thanks for the clutch win, bruh. You was hooping outta your mind today.”
“Like a man possessed.” Sterling grinned at Michael, a speculative gleam in his eyes. “Something on your mind, son?”
“Nope.” Shaking off Quentin’s arm, Michael followed the others to the bench and grabbed his water, downing half the bottle. He didn’t miss the knowing look that passed between his father, Quentin and Marcus. It set his teeth on edge.
But then, he’d been on edge all week, and it had everything to do with a certain dark-eyed siren who’d burrowed deep under his skin and rooted there.
He hadn’t seen or spoken to Reese since the morning after they slept together, when she’d basically reduced him to a glorified dildo. If any other woman had pulled that crap, he wouldn’t have given a single fuck.
But Reese wasn’t just some random hookup. She was the most compelling woman he’d ever met. Brilliant and fierce, sweet and vulnerable, selfless and compassionate, strong and brave, sexy and mesmerizing. She was special to him, and becoming more so with each passing day.
Which made her unavailability all the more aggravating.
Since driving her home on Wednesday, he’d been wound tighter than a junkie in rehab. He’d needed a distraction, an outlet for his pent-up frustration. His family’s monthly pickup game couldn’t have come at a better time.
His father and Quentin were right. He had played even more aggressively than usual. Abusing his opponents on the court helped him burn off some tension. But not enough. Not even close.
His father came up beside him. “You sure everything’s okay?”
Michael ran a towel over his head. “I’m fine, pops.”
“You don’t seem fine.” Quentin sat on the bench and leaned back, his eyes glinting with mischief. “How’s Reese?”
Manning glanced up from his phone. “Who’s Reese?”
Quentin grinned at him. “Oh, that’s right. You were on vacation and missed all the action.”
“What action?” Manning looked from Quentin to Michael, cocking one amused brow. “What happened?”
“And who’s Reese?” Magnum and Mason chimed in.
Michael frowned. He wasn’t in the mood for an interrogation.
“It’s getting late,” he muttered, starting for the exit. “We should probably?—”
“Nah, we’ve got time. Dinner reservations aren’t until seven.” Uncle Stan hooked an arm around Michael’s shoulders, thwarting his escape attempt with a big grin. “What’s going on, nephew? Who’s the young lady that had you playing like a maniac?”
“For real,” the others laughed.
“Her name’s Reese St. James,” Marcus answered for Michael. “She’s his new apprentice.”
“And she’s fine as hell. That face and body?” Quentin kissed his fingertips. “Chef’s kiss.”
Montana grinned. “Our resident chef looks hella frustrated, so I’m guessing he ain’t been getting too many kisses.”
Michael scowled as the group cracked up laughing. Even his old man chuckled.
Mason drained his Gatorade and gestured to Quentin with the empty bottle. “Which celebrity does Reese remind you of? I need visuals.”
“Hmm, let’s see,” Quentin ruminated, stretching his long arms across the back of the bench. “If Tika Sumpter, Justine Skye and Kelly Rowland had a sister with a bangin’ body, that would be Reese.”
“ Gotdamn .” Mason staggered back a few steps, clutching his chest as if he’d been shot with one of Cupid’s arrows. “I’m in love and I haven’t even met her yet.”
More laughter erupted.
“Uh-oh.” Catching Michael’s narrowed eyes, Stan warned his lastborn, “ Don’t get yourself killed today, Mase. Your mama would never forgive me.”
Everyone chortled.
Stroking his manicured beard, Maddox drawled, “Reese does sound like a baddie, though.”
“Oh, she’s gorgeous,” Marcus confirmed. “Not only that, she’s smart as hell.”
“Yessir. She’s a doctor,” Quentin said with a lecherous grin. “Baby girl can lay those healing hands on me anytime, anyplace, anyhow.”
This triggered another round of rowdy laughter.
Chuckling, Stan squeezed Michael’s tense shoulder and patted him on the chest. “We’re just having fun with you, nephew. Call it payback for the way you embarrassed us on the court today.”
Manning rolled his eyes. “The only reason he outscored me was because I was already tired before the game.”
Michael raised a mocking brow at him. “You just came back from a ten-day cruise. Shouldn’t you be well rested and relaxed?”
“Oh, I’m very relaxed. The ‘well rested’ part is a different story,” Manning said, grinning. “Tay couldn’t keep her hands off me the whole vacation. Those pregnancy hormones ain’t no joke, but I have no complaints whatsoever.”
A collective groan went up.
“That’s my boy,” Stan boasted proudly. “Keep giving us beautiful grandbabies. The more the merrier.”
Manning’s grin widened. “Don’t worry, pops. We understood the assignment.”
His father chuckled.
“Speaking of babies,” Quentin said, “Reese is an ob-gyn. I’m sure she and Taylor will have plenty to chat about when they meet after the show taping on Wednesday.”
Mason rocked back on the heels of his signature Nikes, rubbing his big hands together. “Can’t wait to make the lovely doctor’s acquaintance.”
When Michael glowered at him, he winked. He loved to get under people’s skin, on and off the football field. He was good at it, and he damn well knew it.
“You’re definitely the MVP of the day, Mike,” Montana said. “You saved us from having to hear Mason’s mouth over dinner. We all know how much trash he talks whenever his team wins.”
“You ain’t lying,” Maddox agreed. “If the Falcons ever win the Super Bowl, his head’s gonna get so big?—”
“ Gonna? ” Magnum snorted. “If that boy’s head gets any bigger than it already is, they’re gonna start flying him over the stadium.”
Everyone broke out in raucous laughter.
Chuckling, Mason peeled off his sweat-soaked shirt and tossed it at Magnum’s face. Flexing his muscles like a bodybuilder, he raised his arm and kissed his bulging bicep, declaring with a cocky grin, “They hate me ’cause they ain’t me.”
Groans and guffaws went up from the group. Mason laughed, catching the wadded-up shirt that Magnum hurled back at him.
Sterling clapped his hands together. “All right, fellas. Let’s hit the showers so we can go eat. I’m in the mood for steak and lobster. Losing team’s footing the dinner bill,” he reminded everyone of the new rule.
Magnum grinned. “I’ve got a better idea,” he said, slinging an arm around Mason’s shoulders as they all headed to the locker room. “Since baby bro here just got that big contract extension, he should buy everyone dinner.”
There was a rumble of amused agreement.
“That’s cool,” Mason said languidly. “I’ll pay for everyone but you.”
“What?” Magnum protested. “Why not me?”
“I don’t pay for bums. Play better next time and maybe?—”
Magnum slapped the back of Mason’s meticulously cornrowed dome. “Big head.”
The group howled with laughter.