Chapter 3
Three
One Month Later
The Wolves Den is already at max capacity when my teammate, Darby, and I walk in. There are probably five other parties going on tonight, but this house is guaranteed to always be the biggest. And it has everything to do with the guys who live here.
Darby immediately takes my hand, dragging me across the living room.
I smile when I realize she’s headed straight for her current roommates, Bellamy and Berkley.
They squeal when they see us, everyone feeling the excitement of the last day of classes.
The girls hold on to Darby a little longer, likely knowing this past year was probably the last time they’ll ever live together.
Darby’s moving into the women’s basketball house with me and three of our other teammates at the end of the summer. I think it was a tough decision for her, but deep down, she knew they were going to want to live with their boyfriends, so she made the first move.
When they finally let her go, they both step over to hug me.
Bellamy picks up one of the long strands of my blonde hair. “Why are you so freaking hot?”
Chuckling, I give her a pointed look. “I know none of you are talking. Look at you, guys.”
I’m literally wearing camo cargo pants, combat boots, and a black cropped tank top. I barely even put on makeup.
“Yeah, but you have this whole badass-baller-tomboy vibe going on while still having all the girlie sex appeal,” Berkley says, while the other two nod eagerly in agreement.
“Y’all are good for my ego.” I tuck my hand under my chin and bat my eyelashes at them.
They all tilt their heads back and laugh.
Mid-laugh, a tattooed arm comes into view as he places it over my shoulder. Damn, his forearms are huge…and veiny.
“I want in… What’s so funny?” Maverick asks.
“The girls were just telling my point guard here how much of a baddie she is… What’s your take, Mav?” Darby asks, avoiding my glare because she knows exactly what she’s doing.
She, along with most of my friends, is Team Jordan Can Get Fucked…and not by me.
Darby has always pressed me about my friendship with Maverick, but she and Symone are the only ones who really know how close we are.
“Is that even a question?" Maverick asks as he slightly turns my body.
I look over my shoulder, trying to decipher what he’s up too. He points to the wall in their living room. A mirror. There are too many people between us and it for me to really see my reflection, but he makes his point when he says, “Mirror mirror on the wall, who’s the baddest of them all…”
I playfully roll my eyes at him and glance at my friends with embarrassment, but then he leans down and whispers, “Shay Raven Moore.”
I can usually tamp down the butterflies and the way he makes me feel, but blame it on the fact that someone accused my boyfriend of cheating on me a couple of weeks ago, because each word floating against my ear has my body throbbing to life.
Friendzone. Friendzone. Friendzone. I remind myself where I placed him so long ago. Besides, he probably says that to all the girls.
“Now that we’ve established the facts, y’all help yourselves to some drinks.” He nods toward the kitchen. “Amy, show them where the good stuff is,” Maverick adds, calling his stepsister Bellamy by the nickname he gave her.
She usually has some sort of retort for him, but tonight she stands in silence, observing us.
Mav warily looks from her to me. “See you later, Little Moore.”
Darby is the first to speak. “Why the fuck would you put up with Jordan’s dumb ass when you could have all of that? I’m not even straight, and that man just turned me on.”
I let out a huff. “Jordan has always been good to me. We have fun together. Plus, how do you know I could have all that anyways?”
“Girlfriend, I think he’d get on his knees and beg for it,” Bellamy says.
“Guys, Maverick is one of my really good friends. I wouldn’t want that to change. Besides, he flirts like that with everyone.” I rush out, not sure if I’m trying to convince them or myself.
“Okay, enough about all that. Let’s get you two a drink.” Berkley to the rescue.
“Jordan just texted that he’s about to be here. I’m going to go say hi,” I whisper to Darby, who’s now standing beside a few of our other teammates out back.
“Want me to come with you?” she asks, her judgment from earlier nowhere in her tone, but that’s Darby. She’s always going to look out for me, but she understands I’m going to make my own choices either way.
“Nah, I’m good.” I wink and head toward the back door.
His text didn’t excite me like it normally does, but I promised myself and him I would really try to move on from it, so I push that thought away and smile as I spot him standing with two of his teammates.
Jordan’s a shooting guard on the men’s basketball team.
We initially bonded over our love of the game and all our favorite basketball idols.
He’s also tall, lean, and extremely good-looking, so that didn’t hurt either.
The night at the club after our hockey team won the Frozen Four, Symone called me because she saw Jordan leaving a party with another girl. That night, it was like everything I believed in when it came to Jordan and I’s relationship came crashing down.
Since then, he’s pled his case and swears to me that nothing happened other than him walking her home.
Unfortunately, I caused him to question our relationship a few months back with some drunk texts he saw between Maverick and me.
So, he begged me to believe him, like he believed me, assuring me that there was nothing more to it.
“Hey, pretty thing.” He smiles as I walk up to his side.
“Hi,” I say and move in for a hug before I speak to his friends.
Something about the way his teammates watch us gives me a sickening feeling. Do they know what happened? Do I look like the dumb girl in this situation right now?
“We’re going to head out back and get on the pong table.”
“Give me a few.” Jordan nods to them.
“Later, Shay,” one of the other shooting guards on the team calls out to me, and I wave at him as they walk off. But again, I don’t like the look on his face… Is it pity?
Immediately, I’m clamming up and want to get as far away from Jordan as possible.
This hurts too fucking bad. As soon as they’re gone, he pulls me into his front, but I’m not in the right headspace for this anymore.
Part of me is heartbroken, and the other part is repulsed.
I step back from his grasp, unable to handle his touch.
I just want to go home, get in my bed, and eat my weight in Chips Ahoy cookies dipped in milk.
Jordan throws his hands up, sensing my change in body language. “I thought we were good.”
“I’m trying, Jordan,” I whisper, not wanting to draw attention to us.
He nods toward the front door, and I follow him. I may want to storm off, but I know we need to talk.
When we get outside, he continues around the side of the house toward his own, stopping in the grass between The Wolves Den and the basketball house. “I told you, I literally just walked her home.”
“Yeah, well, that’s at least all you remember, right?” I sneer.
“I remember perfectly,” he says calmly…too calmly. “I was pissed because I knew you were out with him. So, I got drunk and didn’t realize my phone had died.”
I shake my head, frustrated by his comment. “Don’t put this on me…or him.”
He has the nerve to roll his eyes. “Of course you’d stick up for him.
“This has nothing to do with Maverick.”
“Yes, it does... Do I need to remind you again? I let those texts slide the other month when I knew you were drunk, and you promised me there was nothing more to it,” he practically growls, pointing at my phone in my hand.
I step toward him, not backing down. “Don’t try to fucking gaslight me, Jordan. I never said I wasn’t in the wrong for those, but that doesn’t give you the right to hook up with someone else.”
“I didn’t hook up with her. You can ask Gattis. I came right home, and we played NBA Street the rest of the night.”
Yeah, I’m sure your teammate would vouch for you… Not to mention, the fact that the first thing you would’ve done when you got home was charge your phone and see my missed calls.
I close my eyes, willing myself to calm down and act rationally. “I think I just need some time apart.”
He grabs my hands in his, and this time, I don’t look away.
The fear in his eyes turns my stomach inside out.
“Shay, please, baby. It’s always like this right after our seasons end.
We have so much pressure on us, and we don’t get to see each other as much.
We’re always in a little rut. We just need to get back to us. ”
“Our seasons ended almost two months ago,” I whisper dejectedly.
“I know, but just don’t give up on me, Shay. I love you so much. I know you love me too. Every relationship has its ups and downs.” His words are almost pleading.
I stare at my combat boots, trying to determine what I really want. Do I want to give up on him, on us? Will I regret it?
“I’m not ending things. Maybe a little space this summer will be good for us, and then when we are back here, we can start fresh.”
His eyebrows pinch together in confusion. “Are you saying I can’t see you this summer? What about your family vacation? I was looking forward to that.”
I look into his hazel eyes as I respond. “I’m not saying I don't want to see you at all. But I think it’s best if you don’t come. I just need space. It’ll help me get past this.”
“Whatever you need. I’ll do anything,” he whispers, leaning his forehead against mine, and the sincerity in his voice has me believing him.
“Thank you. I’m going to walk home now.”
He nods. “Can I text you tomorrow?”
I swallow past a lump in my throat. “Sure.”
He kisses me on the forehead before I step over to the sidewalk.
I immediately pull out my phone to text Darby that I’m walking home. I know her and Maverick will be upset that I walked alone.