AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The kiss is light, nothing like the last two times, it’s more of a deep peck. She lets me go, sliding down my body, still smiling up at me.
“Let’s do it again!” She turns around and gets the ball. I watch her, my smile still on my face.
For the next fifteen minutes, I watch Bliss take shot after shot, she makes some, misses some, some of them don’t even touch the net or backboard but she doesn’t care. She laughs, then shrugs and runs after the ball. I’m enjoying every minute, I’m pretty sure she forgot all about our session and the game we were supposed to be playing. Not that I mind, I’d rather watch her run around in those little shorts and the way her ass bounces when she jumps for a shot is not a bad way to spend part of my day, but my dick begs to differ.
“How about you show me some of your moves.” Bliss bounces up to me, holding out the ball. She’s breathless and turning red. “I may be a little out of shape,” she adds, tugging a strand of loose hair behind her ear.
“You just want to check me out,” I tease, taking the ball for her.
“Payback.” She sticks her tongue out and grabs a bottle of water out of her bag. “You’re rusty.”
“I was never hiding it.” I start dribbling the ball and wink at her.
Her mouth hangs open but I’m already making my way down the court, crossing the ball between my legs before doing a layup, nothing fancy.
“Dunk!” she shouts, smiling, and clapping her hands. “Come on, Bow.”
Bow? I remember she called me that before.
Dribbling the ball between my legs, I smile back. “What? Like Jordan?”
She shakes her head. “No, like Cuba.”
Like me? I haven’t been me in a long time.
I start to run down the court, my right hand in full control of each bounce of the ball, my legs taking long strides toward the net. It’s a feeling of freedom that I miss on the court, that every problem, thought, just evaporates the moment your hand touches that ball. It doesn’t hurt that there is a hot girl on the sideline clapping for me. Me, not who everyone thinks I am. She’s clapping because she’s just happy to be around me, talk to me, push me, and she doesn’t know my past, she doesn’t know my darkness.
I dribble the ball harder and faster. I come up, pushing to my toes to make the jump, the air sliding through my fingers as my arm comes up behind me, my hand slams the rim pushing the ball through the net. I hold on, swinging from the rim until I drop to the floor on my feet.
I’m breathing heavy, sweat beads start to form on my forehead. Picking the ball up, I turn just to drop it again, Bliss is wrapped around me, my arms wrap around her. This is the second time she’s done this, I’m not complaining, it’s kind of nice. I’ve never had a girl this happy over a little dunk. I mean, I’ve had groupies, but this is different, I want Bliss around me.
“That was amazing, Cuba.” She smiles, before giving me a quick kiss on my lips.
This show affection feels normal… like this is normal. It’s anything but.
“Why did you stop playing?” She slides off me. “You’re so good.”
My smile slips. “Bliss,” I step back.
She looks confused. “What?” She holds her hands up. “You’re good, I just want to understand why you stopped.”
“I thought you would give me time?” I’m getting tired of doing this with her. “I don’t get you Bliss, you say one thing and do another.”
“Because I just want to-“ she starts, but I cut her off.
“Want to know what happened?” I snap. “I told you go ask your little friend, but you say no, you want me to tell you and you’ll wait, but now we’re back to this shit again. You want to know me?” I’m pissed.
Bliss blinks rapidly and I’m praying she does not cry. Her stormy eyes gloss over but they narrow.
“Yes, I want to know you,” she snaps back.
She doesn’t get to be upset.
“Then don’t fucking push me, because then you never fucking will.” My eyes locked with hers before I walk off.
I hear her call after me, but I can’t deal with this. We were having a good time. I really needed that after my session with Oliver, and she had to go and fuck it up.
I snatch my keys and phone off the bench but keep walking, walking the wrong fucking way. Fuck it. This day has already gone to shit why not put the cherry on top I think as I slam into the locker room. The locker room I was last in when Jackson was alive and still playing. The memories hit me a hundred miles per hour. The horse play, the after-game celebrations, everything. I just can’t, everything reminds me of everything I’m not anymore.
