Love on the Highlight Reel (Connecticut Kings Book 2) (13 page)

Cin ran her tongue over her lips, taking another breath before she looked up at me with glossy eyes. “Jordan… this is…
thank you
,” she said, nodding. “And I will
always
consider you a friend.”

“You haven’t even seen it all yet though.” I pointed toward the envelope she’d pulled the card from, and she picked it up, shaking her head when she saw the check inside.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Jordan…”

“Cinnamon…”

“Ugh,” she groaned, covering her face with her hands. “You know I hate that.”

I chuckled. “I do. But you’re taking the check.”

“I
can’t
.”

“You can. It’s not even that much.”

She sucked her teeth, then finally pulled out the check, her eyes going wide as they ran over the number. “Nigga…
a hundred thousand dollars
? Not even that much? Are you kidding? I can’t accept this money from you!”

“Cin, you realize the watch you were trying to get me to buy cost half of that? It’s two watches. It’s nothing.”

“Not to
me
.”

I chuckled. “
Exactly.
I know you’re not really trying to keep dancing. You wanna be with your baby girl, finish your classes. This should make that happen for you.”

“Jordan…”

“
Cin
. Seriously. You’ve never let me do anything big for you, cause you didn’t want to make the friendship… weirder than it already was. Cool. But you’re graduating. Accomplishing a major goal. You’re
moving
. Let me do this for you.”

She scrubbed a hand over her face. “So glad I didn’t put on any makeup today,” she sniffed, looking down at the check in her hand. “I can’t… I don’t know what to say to this.”

“As much as you’ve listened to me vent and complain without looking at me like I was stupid… you ain’t gotta say nothing. Just rock the shit out of your fresh start.”

She didn’t say anything for several moments, and then she launched herself at me, wrapping her arms around my neck to pull me into a fierce hug.

“I’m gonna rock the hell out of it.”

Ten.

I couldn’t decide whether or not I was glad I hadn’t traveled with the team this time.

On one hand, I could have been there to provide some half-time words of encouragement to the players I was responsible for. On the other hand… it was also pretty likely that I could have ended up ejected from the locker room for screaming and cursing people out.

It was one of
those
kind of games.

Instead of being
at
the game, I was watching it, with Margo and Naima. We had snacks, we had liquor, and we had the game pulled up on the huge flat screen in Naima’s living room.

Unlike the last game, our first with Trent, where the team had done so well, it was clear today that we were still adapting. The excitement and adrenaline from the last game had worn off, and it was obvious that as well-conditioned as he was physically, when it came to the game, Trent was rusty. The other team’s defense was out there thriving, and JJ’s frustration was clearly showing in the way he played. Our offense was honestly a mess out there tonight.

How in the hell else do you end up seventeen points down, three quarters into a game?

“Calm down, Cole,” Naima said, rubbing my back as she pushed a margarita into my hand. “Somebody must have lit a fire under their asses, because they’re turning it around.”

I didn’t say anything – I just guzzled down a mouthful of the fruity frozen drink, then glanced at the score again. Naima was right. Somehow, some way, in the
last
quarter, the Kings had managed to pull this game into a tie, with less than a minute on the clock. At this point, best-case scenario was overtime, where anything could happen.

I
needed
them to win.

As much as Jordan confused me on different levels, there was one thing I was clear on – he didn’t bullshit, and he didn’t bluff. He hadn’t brought it up again, but I believed him when he said he would go somewhere else if he didn’t get a ring with the Kings this season. With the way things had been going… if we wanted to make it to the playoffs, let alone the Super Bowl, we needed as many wins as we could get.

Come on, guys. Just please pull this off.

Our defense had done enough to force the other team to a three and out – we hadn’t allowed them to get a first down after three plays, so they were going to punt the ball, getting it as far away as they could, to make it harder for us to score a touchdown.

As the team broke out from the huddle, JJ headed into position at the back of the field. It wasn’t unusual for them to use him on special teams, as punt-returner, but he’d already almost gotten himself ejected from the game after an altercation with Bobby Samuels – a cornerback for the opposing team, who Jordan had never gotten along with. Tonight, Bobby had disrupted pass after pass, and was clearly taunting Jordan afterward.

Jordan, to his credit, had ignored it… until he didn’t, and shoved Bobby out of his face. I was just glad the other players and refs had intervened before it got uglier.

After all that, we were headed for overtime.

“So what’s up with you and Jordan now?” Margo asked as she nudged my knee, obviously trying to break my attention away from the stress of the game. “It’s been almost what, two weeks since that kiss?”

I shot her a scowl as I took another sip. “Nothing is up. Ask him what’s up with him and
Cinnamon.
”

I gave myself brain freeze and damn near choked, thinking about the pictures that had made their way to gossip sites, of him and a “mystery woman” laughing it up in Jimmy Choo. She had on a hat and big shades when they left the jewelry store, and her face was obscured in the pictures from the boutique, but
I
knew Cin when I saw her.

“Friend” my ass, the way she was pinching his cheeks, throwing herself into his embrace. And who could blame him? Despite her unfortunate name, Cin was fine – warm brown skin, high cheekbones, cute little nose, and enough ass to donate, on an otherwise petite frame. She was smart, and sweet – hell,
I
liked her, and I barely knew her. I’d have to be a damn fool to think they weren’t involved.

“He swears they aren’t like that,” Margo countered, like she was reading my mind. “And have you ever known JJ to be a liar? Friends go window-shopping together all the time. Don’t get caught up on those pictures.”

I rolled my eyes at that, but she had a point – my
same
reasoning for believing him when he said he would leave the Kings. He didn’t bullshit.

My gaze went back to the TV screen as the ball flew up in the air. I was about to turn back to Margo when the ball landed – right through JJ’s hands.

“Holy shit!” I yelled, spilling half my margarita down my shirt as I jumped up. My mouth dropped open as JJ somehow managed to keep the ball in his hands, securing it against his side as he ran the wrong way to dodge a tackle. My heart slammed to the front of my chest as he reversed directions, earning his “Flash Jordan” nickname as he sprinted along the sideline toward, then
into
the end zone.

I held my breath as we waited for the official call.

Please no flags, please no penalties, please…

Me, Naima, and Margo all screamed at once when the referee raised both of his arms in the air, signaling a touchdown. Tears sprang to my eyes as I watched the team celebrate another win. This was the energy they needed going into the intense meetings, practices, and game reviews they would be doing leading into our scheduled bye week.

Thank you God.

I grinned at the screen as cameras followed the players moving through the customary handshakes after the game. I wasn’t surprised to see Jordan and Trent going through the line together, stopping to talk to players on the opposing team – Trent, energetic but low key, Jordan, his usual exuberant self.

I tensed when Bobby Samuels walked up, but Jordan kept a – admittedly arrogant – smile on his face.

“Good game, bruh,”
he yelled over the noise of the crowd, extending his hand to Samuels, who looked at it, then turned his head and spit on the ground in the other direction.

“Fuck outta here with that “good game” shit. You know I roasted your ass out there today,”
Samuels responded as the cameras moved to a side profile of the two men facing off. Always looking for the drama.

Jordan’s jaw twitched, but he kept smiling.
“Score is what it is, man. You ain’t gotta shake my hand, but you can keep that other bullshit.”

Samuels sneered.
“Nah, you got it, Ms. Bailey. I see you got your panties out your ass now that your man is back on the field, bitch.”

I gasped as Jordan’s chest swelled and fists clenched, but Trent said something to him, with a firm push, urging him to move ahead.

“Please, Jordan,” I whispered to myself. “Make Chloe proud. Make
me
proud. Just walk away.

“Whatever Bobby. You have a good night.”

I pumped my fists. “Yes, there you go Jordan, let him be stupid by himself.”

“Oh I plan to. We’ve got your fine ass baby sister waiting in the back as a consolation prize. I'm gone love seeing those dimples on either side of my dick while she's gag—”

“OH, SHIT!”

I clapped a hand over my mouth as Jordan punched Bobby Samuels right in the face on live TV. Trent was one of the first people to act, shoving other opposing players aside and then seemingly trying to stop his teammate, but Jordan’s fast hands had already hit a dazed Bobby again, and again.

Beside me, Margo was letting off a string of curses, and had already pulled out her cell to call Chloe. On the table, my phone started vibrating, and I knew from the ringtone that it was my father. I knew from what had just transpired on screen that it wasn’t going to be a pleasant phone call. I sprang into action too, apologizing to Naima for the mess as I headed for the door.

Guess I was flying to New Orleans after all.

One. Two. Three. Four.

I was wired.

Filled with nervous energy, wondering what was going to happen. I stood up from the pushups I’d been doing to pace back and forth, trying to work some of it out so that I wouldn’t punch anything – or anyone – else.

I was in enough hot water as it was.

I ran my hands over my face, then propped them against my hips.

What are people saying about me right now?

I didn’t feel a single shred of remorse for hitting Samuels, but now that he wasn’t within arm’s reach I was considering the repercussions. Wondering if I should have tried harder to keep my cool, instead of letting him get to me. We’d just come back from the fight of our lives to win that game, and it should have been all I was worried about. I could have kept it together.
Should
have kept it together.

But then he brought my baby sister into it, and it was good as over from there.

I suppose getting to rock the jaw of a dummy who was bold enough to disrespect my sister to my face was a fair exchange for landing in jail.

I hadn’t seen any of my people yet, and hadn’t gotten to make my phone call. These charges were bogus, and they knew it – this wasn’t even the type of thing where the police usually got involved.

Nobody in the holding cell was bothering me, or looking my way at all, really. I was sure I probably looked like I was ready to snatch somebody’s head off – and I was, if they wanted to take it there – but I was glad for the lack of drama.

I just wanted to make it out of here, period.

A familiar sound met my ears, and I looked up just as Nicki turned the corner, with chubby cop sticking closer than necessary to her side. There were keys in his hand.

Damn. So this is who they sent.

She had such a disappointed look in her eyes. Of everybody they could have sent to get me out of this, Nicki was the one I least wanted to face from a jail cell. I didn’t even want to think about what was probably going through her head about me right now.

I didn’t regret socking Bobby in his mouth, not even for a second. He deserved that shit for bringing Jess into something she had nothing to do with. Despite the fact that it wasn’t true, and would never be true – my sister like skinny creative dudes, who rapped poetry and shit – I wasn’t about to let him saying disgusting shit about her,
in my face
, ride. As a matter of fact, I would pay good money for the chance to hit him again.