AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Cassie shrugged her shoulders. “Like I said before, if he wanted to talk, he’d talk.” No matter what her friend said. “I’ve got kids I need to pick up. Talk to you later, Tosh.”
Natasha gave her a hug. “Try not to think the worst of him, Cas. He seems like one of the good guys. At least from what you told me.”
Cassie tried like hide her stress. She didn’t think that kind of man existed. Not really. She learned the hard way from a young age that even the ‘good ones’ had darkness inside of them they liked to hide.
-------------------------
“Come on, man!” Jamal shot a pass down to the block to Anderson, which slipped right through the power forward’s hands. “You gotta catch that.”
“Cool your jets, Jenkins,” Trevin said with a frown. “Not like I missed it on purpose.”
Jamal rolled his eyes. It was Monday and practice was in full swing. The Thunder opened up with the Spurs in a week and a half and his team was not even close to being ready.
“Tell that to Duncan when that ball is going through your fingers and he’s picking it up and throwing a cross-court pass to Ginobili who’ll shoot an easy layup for two,” he griped.
“Man Jenkins, what got you in such a mood this morning? Are you missing your lover?”
Jamal shot Trevin a death glare. “Man, don’t be talkin’ ‘bout her like that. Piss off.”
Anderson stared at Jamal with a perplexed look. “Her? Who said anything about a her? I was talkin’ about your pretty boy shooting guard that blew out his knee last year. The one who just got married. Who’s now in the Caribbean, tanning that white skin of his on some beach with his hot wife. Kyle, dummy. Who’d you think I was talking about?”
“Oh, I knew you was talkin’ about Kyle,” Jamal replied. “I just wanted to see if you would take the bait.”
“That’s BS if I ever heard it, Jenkins. But now, if there is a hot woman bait dangling for the takin’ and you aren’t snagging it, then I could totally-“
Jamal interrupted his teammate. “No, there’s no hot woman bait dangling for anyone. Now, let’s concentrate on you actually catching the round orange thing rather than running your mouth. Maybe then we won’t embarrass ourselves come Friday on our home court.”
Jamal walked away from Trevin to the other end of the court to shoot free throws before calling it a day. His average from the free throw line last year was only eighty-seven percent. He wanted to get that up to at least ninety-two. JJ always reminded him that there was no good reason to miss a free throw.
“Really dad,” she would say in a frustrated tone, “There’snoreason foranyNBA player to miss a free shot. You’re standing there fifteen feet from the goal. They pay youmillions of dollarsand you can’t make a free throw? That’s totally ridiculous.”
Jamal smiled at the thought. Even though eighty-seven percent was a good percentage from the free throw line, his daughter’s disgust made him stay later than usual to get that percentage to what she considered acceptable.
After missing three in a row, Jamal gave himself a mental shake. He knew what was bothering him, and it wasn’t the fact that his daughter called him out on his free throw shooting ability. The problem was he couldn’t get one black haired, chocolate brown eyed, porcelain skinned beauty out of his head. He knew she was beautiful, even when she woke up on his couch makeup-less and wrinkled, the imprint of the blanket he laid over her on her cheek. But Bambi in that dress she had on for the wedding Saturday? Words couldn’t describe how gorgeous she was.
A ridiculously cheesy country song was played at Kyle and Callie’s wedding. Jamal remembered one of the lines describing the woman being the singer’s dream woman. He didnotlisten to countryat all, but that song hit the nail on the head. The artist definitely had to write the song about Bambi. She was the perfect fit.
“Hey, Anderson,” Jamal called out to Trevin at the opposite end of the court, “Who sings that cheesy-ass country song that was played at Kyle’s reception?”
“You’ll have to be more descriptive than that, J,” Trevin replied. “There were lots of cheesy ass country songs played Saturday. Country music – it’s cheesy or makes you want to slit your wrists. There’s no in-between.”
Jamal laughed. Trevin’s description was spot on. When he wasn’t listening to Motown, Jamal was listening to old school rap, like Dr. Dre or Snoop Dog. He was not a fan of country tunes, but he might put that particular one on his playlist if he could figure out its name.
“It said somethin’ ‘bout dyin’ a happy man,” Jamal called down to the other end of the court.
“Ah,thatone. It’s actually called “Die a Happy Man” and is by a guy named Thomas Rhett,” Trevin replied. “Don’t tell me you’re plannin’ on downloading it? You aresonot a country music fan.”
Jamal grinned at his friend. “It’s pretty decent for a country song. I’m, you know, broadening my musical horizons, so to speak.”
“Or trying to impress a girl with yoursensitiveside,” Trevin replied with a waggle of his eyebrows.
“Somethin’ like that,” Jamal agreed.
“Yeah, somethin’ like that indeed,” Trevin smiled, a knowing twinkle in his eye. “It wouldn’t have nothin’ to do with that pretty little beauty you walked down the aisle with on Saturday, would it?”
“Why wereyoulookin’ at her?”
Trevin continued to grin. “I didn’t sayIwas the one lookin’. I just saw you undressin’ her with your eyes all night long. That’s all. She is a cutie, that’s for sure.”
