Chapter 6
“Ready?” I asked as the car stopped and the door was pulled open by a staff member.
Arrivals hadn’t begun yet, but the staff was already in place setting up.
The lights from the television cameras outside flooded into the vehicle, and I took a deep breath.
Contrary to popular belief, these things always brought me a level of anxiety.
I was a hockey player. I didn’t really like doing the spotlight shit.
I just knew how to turn on the charm when it was necessary.
“Do I have a choice?” Faye muttered, glaring at me with her arms folded over her chest.
She rode the entire way with that cute ass attitude. If looks could kill, I would have been a dead nigga when I first came to her door. She hadn’t even appreciated the roses. Just tossed them on the table and stormed out.
“Nah. I don’t think you do, shawty.”
“I just don’t understand how you conveniently left out the part where you’re the star athlete that’s accompanying me tonight,” she said, trying to pretend she wasn’t happy it was me. I knew the truth.
“It was a surprise,” I lied.
It wasn’t. I was supposed to tell her yesterday.
I just didn’t want Lafayette pushing me away before she got to know a nigga.
Had I told her last night that the network had enlisted me to escort her today, she never would have taken me back to her room.
It was fucked up, but it wasn’t the worst thing I’d done in my lifetime to get some pussy.
God was working on me, though. I knew it the moment He sent Faye to me.
It was like the moment I met her, I became a better man.
“Forgive me.” I extended my hand toward her and flashed her my pearly white, diamond-encrusted smile.
“I guess. I’m not about to let you ruin my big day.” She rolled her eyes as she placed her hand in mine.
“I’m never here to ruin it, Faye Baby. I’m just here to make it better.”
I led her out of the car, and the cameras flashed instantly.
“Jaxton! Jaxton Saint!” someone shouted. “Who are you with? Is this the contest winner?”
I turned my head in the direction of the reporter. There were only a few out here. They were probably trying to get good spots for the red carpet.
“Yes. This is Lafayette Porter from Saint Louis. She is this year’s Rep Your Podcast EPIC Award winner. Tell them a little about yourself.”
A familiar wave of adrenaline rushed through me as I recited my rehearsed script. Lafayette’s grip on my hand tightened, and her body tensed up beside me.
“Hi… u-umm…I-I’m...”
She was nervous. Leaning over a little, I found her ear.
“Relax. This is your playground,” I whispered.
She looked up at me and took a deep breath.
“Hi, I’m Lafayette Porter from The Porter Report and this year’s Rep your Podcast winner. I’m so excited to take you behind the scenes at this year’s EPIC Awards.”
I gave her a thumbs up as they asked her a few more questions.
I could see the nervousness on her face.
She wasn’t herself. She wasn’t in her element.
We made our way through the small crowd past the cameras, and we were escorted to a private waiting area with food and drinks to wait for the pre-show to begin.
“You’re nervous,” I stated as soon as we were alone.
“Yeah. Well, did you see all those people? When I’m doing my podcast, it’s just me. That out there is a damn circus.”
She was pacing back and forth in that beautiful, tight dress that showed off her body.
I could barely fucking concentrate on getting her to relax.
I wanted to hike that damn dress up and bend her ass over the little ass sofa in the room.
That wasn’t what she needed right now, though. She needed support.
“I can’t argue with you on that. It is a damn circus,” I said, moving a little closer. “It’s overwhelming, but you were made for this. Come here.”
She stared at me hesitantly at first, but her feet eventually started moving.
“Before games, I breathe. I block out the world, and I breathe. It helps me calm my nerves so I can just focus on moving across the ice and blocking pucks. I just breathe and focus on what I love to do. You want to try?”
She nodded her head as I leaned against the wall and held my hands out.
“Okay.”
I closed the space between us, taking her hand in mine, and I lowered my voice.
“Breathe in… one, two, three,” I instructed.
My eyes focused on her as her chest rose. She filled her lungs, and then I guided her through the exhale.
“And out… one, two, three.”
Her chest fell.
“Good. Again.”
We repeated it a few times, and with each breath, I could feel her tension dissipate and our connection grow. I’d never been connected to a woman like this. We weren’t even having sex, and she had my mind gone.
“Thank you, Jax,” she abruptly said, pulling me back to reality. “I needed that.”
“Anytime,” I replied softly. Damn, my heart was racing. “You just gotta remember why you’re here.”
“I belong here,” she whispered to herself.
“You damn right. You do.” I smiled at her, and the urge to let her know about my bet with my teammates resurfaced.
The shit was stupid and childish, and I’d only made it because I knew she was mine. I felt that shit the first day she came across my screen. She was more than just a prize in a game, though, and I should have shut the shit down from the jump.
“Faye, I need to tell you something.”
Her eyebrows raised just as a staff member poked their head into the waiting area.
“Lafayette, they’re ready for you on the red carpet,” she announced.
“Okay,” she whispered. “I better get going. What were you going to say?”
“Nothing.” I shook my head. “Go catch up to that dream, shawty,” I said, and she shot me a smile before leaving the room.
I stood there for a moment. This just wasn’t the right time to tell her. This was her moment. I couldn’t ruin it. I wouldn’t ruin it.
I made my way to the red carpet, meeting up with a few of my teammates along the way. My nigga Reese was sharp as fuck in his red suit. The vibes were good.
“Jaxton! Over here!” a journalist shouted, and I turned to offer a wide smile, ready to play my role as the charming playboy athlete.
“You’re presenting tonight. Are you excited?” the reporter questioned.
“It’s always a fun time at the EPIC Awards,” I replied, winking at the camera.
“Let’s talk about the Athlete of the Year award. You’re presenting with the lucky fan from the contest. How’s that whole experience been?”
“It’s been cool. I’ve been a faithful viewer of The Porter Report for a while now, so it’s cool. I had the pleasure of meeting Lafayette Porter yesterday, and she’s amazing,” I replied, glancing up and spotting her interviewing some celebrities.
I wished I could be there beside her, offering that same quiet support I had earlier, but she looked like she was killing it. The interviews wrapped up, and I waited for Faye to finish her segment backstage. Not because I had to, but because I wanted to. I didn’t want to move without her.
“That was freaking amazing!”
She finally reappeared. The change in her demeanor was evident. Her nerves had been replaced, and that firecracker attitude was back. She walked toward me, smiling from ear to ear.
“How did it go, superstar?” I greeted her with a warm smile breaking across my face.
“Perfect.” She was beaming now.
“Great. You belong here. Now, let’s go take our seats for the show.”
“Is that Zion James?” Faye squealed and pointed as Zion walked past her down the aisle probably on his way to the bathroom or some shit.
“Yeah.” I smirked as she took out her phone and snapped a picture.
She’d been this way all night. Giddy, smiling, and taking pictures to show her folks when she got back home.
It was cute, and I didn’t blame her. It was her first awards show.
The innocence of it all was refreshing, contagious really.
Shit, she even had me fanning out a few times, and I’d been to a bunch of these industry awards shows.
I had Zion’s number, but that didn’t stop me from smiling, pointing, and helping Faye snap a picture for her pops.
“My daddy is going to flip,” she whispered as the lights dimmed and the show moved to its next segment.
“He a Zion fan?” I questioned.
“The biggest.” She grinned.
I nodded my head. I was going to use that to my advantage later. A nigga wasn’t above bribing her pops if I had to.
“Sup, nigga? Excuse me.”
A familiar voice had me looking up to see Brooklyn Warhawks wide receiver, Braelon Jackson, making his way to the empty seat next to Faye.
One thing people couldn’t see when watching these types of shows on the television was the amount of parlaying that went on during the commercial breaks and shit.
Between niggas shooting their shot and people trying to get autographs, it was like damn musical chairs.
A twinge of annoyance shot through me as he settled next to her.
His eyes roamed her body. Braelon and I weren’t best friends, but he was cool with my homie Kellon, so we’d been around each other a few times.
I’d seen him in action enough to know he was over here to flirt.
I bit my bottom lip as I watched them out the corner of my eye.
I didn’t know what he was saying, but Faye’s entire face lit up.
She was flirting with this nigga in front of me like I wasn’t digging in her guts less than twelve hours ago.
My jaw tightened as I sat there trying to mask my irritation.
Being jealous was uncharted territory for me.
I didn’t get jealous because I didn’t catch feelings.
About Faye, though, I wanted to put this nigga’s head in the back of that auditorium seat.
I couldn’t do that, though. I was a professional, and Faye wasn’t officially mine yet.
Fuck! Are you crashing out over a girl you just met?