Page 21 of Home Town Advantage (Fourth Quarter Fever #1)

He audibly sighs. “It’s always crazy with you, with the world revolving around you,” he says with a steely voice dripping with sarcasm. “This whole relationship is about you and your needs. What about me? What about my needs?”

I sigh. “You're right. You specifically asked me to watch the game, and I fucked up. I’m truly sorry. I promise to make it up to you.”

His tone softens. “How do you plan on doing that from across the Atlantic Ocean?”

“I’ve got an opportunity in Italy. That’s what I was discussing with Tanner. When my season is over in October, I’m going to be able to come visit.”

“Really?” He sounds so hopeful.

“Yes. Really.”

“Ahh. I’m so fucking happy right now.” He lets out a moan. “I’ve got the worst case of blue balls in existence. ”

I giggle. “Me too. Well, not balls, but you know what I mean.”

“I do, beautiful.” He starts breathing heavily. “How about some naked pics to tide me over?”

We’ve been through this many times before. I can’t risk that, but I don’t want to piss him off. “I’ve…umm…got to head to the stadium. Maybe when I get home.”

Thirty minutes later, I’m in my locker room. As we all change into our warm-up uniforms, I turn to Kennedy. “Do you send naked pictures to men?”

If anyone does, it would be her. She’s probably the most sexually uninhibited woman I’ve been around. When we go out, it’s common for her to aggressively flirt and sometimes go home with a new, random guy. She doesn’t even hide it. I admire how bold and unapologetic she is.

She shakes her head. “Fuck no. You can’t trust any of them. I’m semi-famous, and you’re legit famous. We have to be extra careful. Talk about the quickest way to go from a serious athlete to a two-dollar whore. Is Shane asking?”

I nod. “He’s been asking for over a year. I haven’t done it yet for fear of them somehow getting out.”

She looks at me for several long beats. “Look, Shane seems like a nice enough guy, but unless you feel complete and total trust in a man, I wouldn’t do it. Do you trust him to never release them, even if things go to shit?”

I’m silent, and she gives me a small smile. “I think we have our answer.”

I run my fingers through my hair. “It’s not that I don’t trust him, I just don’t think he’s…he’s…”

“He’s not your forever. You told us he’s not the one. I get it.”

I shake my head. “I don’t think so. I don’t know. I guess I’m not sure.”

“You should cut him loose so you can go out and have a good time.”

“No, I don’t want that. I care about him. He’s…comfortable. ”

She twists her lips. “Ahh, the beginning of every great love story. He’s…comfortable.”

I scrunch my face at her repeating my words. I did use the word comfortable.

She places her hand on my shoulder. “I’m not here to tell you what to do. As your friend, I just want to support you.”

I smile. “Kennedy Jeffries, are we friends?”

She bites back her smile. “Frenemies.”

I let out a laugh. “Sure. Frenemies.”

Her face turns a bit more serious. “Like it or not, you’re a star, Sulley. I used to think you asked for it. Even basked in it. That was why I hated you.”

“You hated me?” I joke. I’m more than aware she wasn’t my biggest fan.

“Before I spent time with you? Yes. As I’ve gotten to know you, I’ve quickly learned that it’s not the case.

You don’t want or ask for this attention.

You’re just out there hooping. But you’re taking our sport to the next level.

I know it’s a big weight to bear, and you always do it with grace and humility.

I admire you for it. Your boyfriend should too.

His ego shouldn’t get in the way of anything. ”

She gives me a knowing look. She’s right about Shane. Sometimes I feel like I have to hide things from him because he’ll get upset if things are going too well for me.

As for naked pictures, those are off the table.

I look up at her. “Thanks, friend.”

She winks. “Anytime, frenemy.”

A few hours later, we’re in the fourth quarter of our game. The other team is being particularly physical with me tonight. I’ve taken a lot of elbows and hard body checking. The refs seem to be keeping their whistles in their pockets.

I do have my new bodyguard, though. Kennedy should have been a hockey player or a defensive lineman. She’s giving it right back to them tenfold.

I pop in a fadeaway jumper over the woman who’s been the biggest culprit in pushing me around all night, Diane Garma.

I know her well. She was a year ahead of me in college, and we played in the same conference, meaning I played against her a few times each year.

She’s always been overly physical with me.

She was the first pick in last year’s draft.

I know there were a lot of comments made at the time that if I hadn’t sat out that first year of college, I would have been the first pick last year instead of her.

I’m sure she just has an axe to grind, but she’s a little out of control right now.

Kennedy isn’t having any of it. She’s right in Diane’s face after my shot goes in. “Five fucking years, Diane. You haven’t been able to defend her for five years. Stop trying.”

Diane mumbles, “Fuck you, Kennedy. Must be nice to ride her coattails.”

“Better to grab onto her coattails with my hands than how you get through life on your knees.” Kennedy backpedals but still manages to reach and wipe Diane’s chin. “You’ve got a little something on you, D. Leftovers from your afternoon with the team owners? Maybe the referees too?”

I can’t help but smile as I run back to get on defense. Kennedy winks at me with a small smirk on her face. Damn, I’m glad she’s on my team.

Diane smacks Kennedy’s hand away. Hard. The ref then blows his whistle, calling a foul on her.

Kennedy blows on her nails like it’s all in a day’s work. I notice all the Camels guys sitting courtside laughing. I think they’re wildly amused by the fact that women trash-talk too, and none are better at it than Kennedy Jeffries.

The cameras love to find the guys. Beer drinking contests among Camels players at our games have become the normal courtside entertainment for everyone. I swear, Beau and Daylen make it seem like one gulp. I don’t know how they do it .

It’s always on ESPN at night. It’s only bringing more attention to us. Attendance and television viewership are way up. Life is good.

VANCE

I’ve loved having Sulley living with me. I think she’s starting to thaw toward me a bit. I’ve tried to be respectful and stay out of her way, but I also stocked my fridge with all the things I remember her liking. She noticed and was grateful.

They’re only a few days away from moving into their new place, and I’m about to leave town for our last preseason game before our season officially begins.

While we’ve been super busy, we’re both free later this afternoon, and I told her I wanted to show her something. She skeptically agreed.

This morning I’m in the film room with my team. We’re watching game tape on our opponents, something we always do leading up to games.

We’re reviewing our upcoming opponent’s defensive coverage when Presley turns and asks me, “Have you seen the movie Marley and Me ?”

“About the dog?”

He nods. “Yes.”

“I’ve seen it. That’s a good movie.”

He agrees, “It is. We watched it recently. Layla cried like a baby when they put the dog down.”

I shrug. “So? What’s wrong with that?” I think I cried at the end of that movie too. It was so sad when they had to put him down.

He sighs. “She usually watches true crime documentaries on Netflix. Some deranged serial killer who has murdered thirty people; she doesn’t cry over that. But a fake dog in a movie? That makes her cry?”

I hear Beau’s deep voice from the back of the room. “ Marley and Me is a true story.”

My eyes widen as I turn to him. “It is?”

He nods. “Yep. It’s based on an autobiographical novel. I read it. It was good.”

Daylen and I exchange glances before he jokes, “I didn’t know you knew how to read, Fudd.”

Beau doesn’t bother to respond to Daylen’s ridiculousness.

If there’s one thing Beau knows how to do, it’s reading.

The guy went to Stanford and majored in biochemistry while dual-minoring in English literature and Greek mythology.

He looks like he doesn’t have a single brain cell, which most people assume, but it’s just the opposite, and I have a ton of respect for him and the fact that he’s continuing his studies despite the demands of our job.

He’s fairly quiet but is always game to hang out and certainly attracts the attention of a lot of women.

I wouldn’t call him a player, but I’ve seen him leave with women on a few occasions. Women flock to the big guy.

Beau looks at his watch. “Are we done? I have a date.”

Daylen raises an eyebrow. “With who?”

Beau answers, “Whom. It’s with whom . And it’s none of your business.”

Presley happily chimes in, “We have a new thing for date night. We have sex before we go out. This way, when we get home feeling bloated and tired, we can just go to bed.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Are you eighty? What the fuck is wrong with you? You should service your woman both before and after a date.”

He shrugs. “Layla is usually mad at me by the end of a date. Now I definitely get laid. It’s kind of genius.

The other night we had sex before our date.

She hurt her shoulder in her game, so when we were done, she asked me to help her put her bra back on.

I couldn’t do it, and she was yelling at me.

I said, Why would I know how to put a bra on?

I’ve only ever taken them off women .” He winces.

“It made for a tough night. If I hadn’t already gotten laid, I wouldn’t have gotten any at all.

That’s the genius in the pre-date sex plan. It’s like I’m hedging my bets.”

Daylen chuckles as he stands. “You kids have fun. I’m going to shake hands with the president.” He leaves and makes his way toward the bathroom while the rest of us head out of the stadium.