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“It’s giving NFL gambling policy violation…”
It was clear that Shakira’s dad must’ve been deep in the sports betting game if all these random people knew him for it. But that still didn’t mean I had any knowledge of it nor any connection to him, that part of it especially frustrating even though I knew better than to hop on the post trying to defend myself.
That would’ve only made me look more guilty.
Instead, I continued to scroll in silence, noticing a trend in the things people had to say about Shakira specifically.
“All these football players she done been with, she might as well start her own team at this point.”
“Got damn. Is she the NFL hired ho, or what?”
“I been told y’all she was for the streets. Y’all gon listen to me one day.”
Of all the comments that had been left, that last one was the most popular. And I could assume that was mostly because of who it was from.
Enzo Shaw.
He was currently the starting cornerback for the Titans. But before his time in Tennessee, he’d spent a season and a training camp in Houston, our paths only briefly crossing since my arrival to the Skyhawks and his departure from them had happened within a few days of each other. But even during the short period of time that we’d shared space, he’d been a headache to deal with, far too cocky for his own damn good on the field and even more reckless off of it, which was why the Skyhawks front office had decided to cut him.
Of course, because he was decently skilled, another team was more than willing to pick him up with hopes of being able to tame him. But from the few words he’d left on IG, I could tell his attitude hadn’t changed much in the year that had passed since then, his energy along with the energy of others towards Shakira lowkey making me feel bad for her since it was obvious most people were just taking advantage of the opportunity to gang up on somebody.
That was my initial reason for deciding to reach out to her. But when I clicked on her profile, I immediately found another one in the form of her latest post.
According to the caption, it was an ad for Savage X Fenty. But all I saw was Shakira in a lingerie set looking good as fuck, the way the thin, lime green fabric sat against her warm, sandy brown complexion damn near making my mouth water as I began to scroll through the photo set. And with every picture that popped up, my dick seemed to do the same, that reaction making it difficult for me to remember what I was actually even here for.
Oh yeah.
Swiping off the post, I went back to her profile so that I could click the button that would allow me to send her a message. But to my surprise, there was already a message from her waiting on me, the sight of her pretty ass profile picture at the top of my screen making me grin a little as I read,“I don’t know who shared that photo of us. But please know that I’m gonna find out and guarantee that it never happens again.”
I’d already assumed she’d had nothing to do with it, but it was still nice to see that part confirmed, giving me something to respond to when I typed out,“I’d appreciate that. Are you okay, though?”
Because of the hour, I honestly wasn’t expecting Shakira to reply right away. But in what felt like a single blink, the message was marked as “seen” before the bubble popped up that told me she was typing.
@KikiKnight: “Yeah, I’m fine. This shit ain’t nothin’ new. And besides, I could’ve done a lot worse ;)”
@SnoopDogwood: “Would it be considered cocky if I agreed with you?”
@KikiKnight: “A little lol. But I mean, look at the material.”
Her compliment made me smirk, though I couldn’t help responding with the truth.
@SnoopDogwood:“Nah, I’m lookin’ rough right now. Training camp got me down bad.”
@KikiKnight: “*laughing emoji* I find that hard to believe.”
@KikiKnight: “But speaking of camp, how is that going?”
Even if it was just her way of being polite, her interest in what I had going onwas… it was nice, generally making me feel a little lighter as I typed out,“It’s cool. Exhausting, but that’s to be expected.”And then, because she thought I was playing, I snapped a quick picture of myself that I sent with the caption“Told you :/”
When I could see that she’d opened the message but didn’t respond right away, I got a little nervous thinking I may have taken things a step too far. Or shit, maybe I really was a lot uglier than she’d remembered. But thankfully, for my ego’s sake, she put that thought to bed when her reply finally came through.
@KikiKnight: “See. Shit like that is exactly why we’re in trouble now lol.”
@SnoopDogwood: “I just didn’t want you to think I was lying.”
@KikiKnight: “But you WERE lying! The rugged look is a vibe. *drooling emoji*”
My lack of haircut, overgrown facial hair, and the big ass scar across my forehead that my helmet had left told me she was the one who was actually lying. But instead of responding on some self-deprecating shit, I started to type out some version of a thank you until I saw she’d sent me a picture.
