Page 110
Story: Free Agent
“Ah hell,” Rori said once she’d processed that I was sitting next to her. “What are you doing here?” she asked.
I shrugged. “Having a drink.”
“Oh shit! Tatum Wilder?” her date spoke up, looking around her first to confirm it was me, and then standing up to come and shake my hand, completely ignorant to the death stare Rori was giving him.
I just looked at him.
He was dumb.
On the court and off, apparently.
Jay Cannon was the worst center in the league, and it was baffling to me that this motherfucker even had a place on a team like the Brawlers. I knew for sure there had to be some type of nepotism, paid placement, something going on with that.
The only explanation.
It also explained why Kevion had said what he did.
This dude was notoriously corny, but one thing nobody could say was that he didn’t keep a bad bitch. Which… good for him I guess. The problem was, this time he was trying to move into the unfortunate space I’d left between me and mine.
And I couldn’t have that.
“I’m a big fan, my boy,” he said, still pushing it while Rori was mumbling under her breath.
Still with his hand extended.
Instead of accepting it, I tossed my chin up.
“What’s up, man? I said. “You can go on ahead out. I’ll get her home safe.”
The smile faded off his face. “We’re on a date, actually.”
“Not anymore,” I told him, ignoring the blatant side-eye from Rori. “Like I said, you can head out. I’ll get her home.”
Jay smirked. “There’s no need to get her home. She’s already where I planned to take her. Our room is waiting upstairs after we finish our drinks.”
“Our what?” Rori spoke up, fully turning around now.
“Our room,” he repeated with clear implication that ending the night in a suite upstairs was the obvious endpoint.
So I was right.
He had planned on having her spread out in front of the?—
“Boy, I don’t know what the fuck you thought was happening here, but we don’t have any need for a room.”
His face scrunched. “I thought we were having a good time?”
“I’ve been cursing my friend out via text for leaving me with you and trying to figure out how to politely remove myself from this bar for the last… twenty-eight minutes,” she said after checking her watch. “Again, we don’t have a need for a room.”
“So you bouncing from athlete to athlete to athlete and I’m the one that can’t hit? Why am I paying for dinner and drinks then?” Jay snapped, and Rori’s eyes went wide.
“Wow.” She smirked. “Maybe your inability to seal the deal is a reflection of your in-game performance, just like theirs.”
“Bitch—”
“Say what now?” I cut in, standing up to full height to give him a more clear picture of what was happening here. “There’s not going to be any of that.”
Jay scoffed. “You couldn’t even claim her, but you wanna defend her honor? What the fuck is this?” he asked. “I’m supposed to be making him jealous?”
I shrugged. “Having a drink.”
“Oh shit! Tatum Wilder?” her date spoke up, looking around her first to confirm it was me, and then standing up to come and shake my hand, completely ignorant to the death stare Rori was giving him.
I just looked at him.
He was dumb.
On the court and off, apparently.
Jay Cannon was the worst center in the league, and it was baffling to me that this motherfucker even had a place on a team like the Brawlers. I knew for sure there had to be some type of nepotism, paid placement, something going on with that.
The only explanation.
It also explained why Kevion had said what he did.
This dude was notoriously corny, but one thing nobody could say was that he didn’t keep a bad bitch. Which… good for him I guess. The problem was, this time he was trying to move into the unfortunate space I’d left between me and mine.
And I couldn’t have that.
“I’m a big fan, my boy,” he said, still pushing it while Rori was mumbling under her breath.
Still with his hand extended.
Instead of accepting it, I tossed my chin up.
“What’s up, man? I said. “You can go on ahead out. I’ll get her home safe.”
The smile faded off his face. “We’re on a date, actually.”
“Not anymore,” I told him, ignoring the blatant side-eye from Rori. “Like I said, you can head out. I’ll get her home.”
Jay smirked. “There’s no need to get her home. She’s already where I planned to take her. Our room is waiting upstairs after we finish our drinks.”
“Our what?” Rori spoke up, fully turning around now.
“Our room,” he repeated with clear implication that ending the night in a suite upstairs was the obvious endpoint.
So I was right.
He had planned on having her spread out in front of the?—
“Boy, I don’t know what the fuck you thought was happening here, but we don’t have any need for a room.”
His face scrunched. “I thought we were having a good time?”
“I’ve been cursing my friend out via text for leaving me with you and trying to figure out how to politely remove myself from this bar for the last… twenty-eight minutes,” she said after checking her watch. “Again, we don’t have a need for a room.”
“So you bouncing from athlete to athlete to athlete and I’m the one that can’t hit? Why am I paying for dinner and drinks then?” Jay snapped, and Rori’s eyes went wide.
“Wow.” She smirked. “Maybe your inability to seal the deal is a reflection of your in-game performance, just like theirs.”
“Bitch—”
“Say what now?” I cut in, standing up to full height to give him a more clear picture of what was happening here. “There’s not going to be any of that.”
Jay scoffed. “You couldn’t even claim her, but you wanna defend her honor? What the fuck is this?” he asked. “I’m supposed to be making him jealous?”
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