Page 12 of Popular (Private: The Extended Edition #5)

Janae

“You will never wear this shit again,” Jer chuckles from the couch cushion beside me, fingers fumbling to glue on the rhinestone piece in his wobbly grip.

“Imma wear it every summer.”

“You won’t.”

“Imma wear it to your first home game of the season.”

“You wouldn’t.”

I stop mid ironing motion to shoot him a challenging stare.

“Alright, yeah, you would, but maybe don’t?”

Laughter leaves me as I resume running the object smoothly over the gold “Live Long and Prosper” finger patch I grabbed at one of the booths during our post brunch, sibling shopping spree.

“Or maybe you won’t be able to because you’ll have to be in all black since you’ll be in the choreographer’s section of the arena,” suggests my twin at the same time he smushes on the gem.

“Doubt it.” Parking the iron to the far side of the coffee table precedes me grabbing pink tassels to glue onto the pocket. “Still haven’t heard back from Highland.”

“What about elsewhere?”

“There’s a college gig in Vlasta that wants me.”

“You don’t like snow.”

“And a private dance academy in Dalvegan.”

“Texas is too hot.”

“And an offer to choregraph a musical in Doctenn.”

“That’s a whole other country!”

“What’s with the editorializing?” Small snickers escape as I glue on the material. “You trying to prove to me you remember something from high school geography?”

“I remember Spain having an asinine amount of great ball players.”

“They do.” My head bobs back and forth. “But most of them suck in bed.”

Unhappiness has him skeptically leaning closer to me. “ Which. Ones? ”

“Which ones sucked in bed or which ones did I sleep with?”

“Both.”

“Nope.” With the finishing touch now on my denim vest for “Klingon Karaoke”, I lock eyes with him. “You’re not gonna hunt down the dudes that broke your ‘no one in my league bangs my sister’ policy.”

“But-”

“Besides since they were out of country, so technically a different league, meaning you have no grounds for beatdowns.”

Jer flings himself backwards on a pout.

Thankfully, he’s not overly protective, just protective enough.

It’s one of the reasons why Wheeler only makes a real play to get back together with me when he’s not around.

“You uh…” he extends his arms outward to rest on the edge of the furniture, “actually considering any of those offers?”

I stand to unplug the iron yet pause the action long enough to reply, “Not until the Hellcats fill the position I want with someone else.”

“That’s my twin,” chuckles my brother.

“Could mine go change?” Resuming the short trip over to the wall occurs. “I don’t wanna be so far down the list that I don’t get to perform until like midnight or some shit.”

“Want me to just meet you down there?”

“And risk the chance of you skipping out all together to sleep with Nichelle or Pammy or Gia-”

“ Ji-ah ,” Jer corrects with a sharp point of the finger.

“ Nu-uh ,” I mock on a yank of the cord. “Go to your room and get your ass dressed. It’s karaoke time, bitch.”

To no surprise, it takes him longer to get ready than he initially swears.

Why simply swapping out his basketball shorts for his own nerd patch bearing jean bottoms we worked on and adding a bit of product into his hair takes almost half an hour is beyond me.

But if I had to guess?

He’s probably sexting someone.

Jericho practically lives and breathes pussy during offseason since he abides by a strict, almost completely celibate lifestyle from training camp to finals.

Our eventual migration from our rooms to the activity area is slowed by his texting – hence the idea he was probably sexting earlier – however, it’s my ex that can’t take the hint that ends up blocking our entrance to the endeavor.

“Hey J,” Wheeler slyly states, fidgeting hands finding their way to his pockets. “I haven’t seen you in a minute.”

“She’s been busy ,” Jer retorts for me, frame leaning a bit forward, towering over the retired singer. “ With her boyfriend. ”

“Right,” brushes off the male on a step back before finding my gaze again. “Can we talk?”

“Our people are waiting for us,” announces my fraternal half.

“Can we just…” his eyes widen in an obvious imploring fashion, “talk for a minute? Alone ?”

This time I offer him a surrendering nod, ready to end this stalking shit once and for all. “Okay.”

Jer’s brow scrunches in displeasure. “Nae-”

“I got this, Jericho.” Delivering his arm a reassuring pat is attached to a request. “Can you tell J.T. I’ll be right in?”

Post one long, skeptical stare, he too nods.

Accepts the situation.

Brushes past the problem in our path with a full body check.

Wheeler fumbles slightly out of the way prior to huffing, “I don’t get why he fucking hates me.”

“Could be because you cheated on me. Could be because you cheated on me with one of his exes. Or could be because I’ve politely and impolitely told you to fuck off alike and you won’t.

” My arms fold firmly across my jean vest sporting chest. “You are one restraining order away from him legally possessing the ability to drown you in the ocean and call it self-defense.”

“He wouldn’t…”

“I highly suggest you don’t fuck around and find out.”

An undeniable cringe of discomfort crosses his face prompting me to say my peace.

“Look, Wheeler, we’re over. Completely. One hundred and ten percent. I never wanna date you again. I never wanna sleep with you again. I never want another call or text from you again. We are through. Through, through.”

“Come on, J…Just give me one more chance.”

“There are no more chances to give. Putting aside the amount of women you let turn your dick into their own personal microphone, you were a shitty boyfriend. You never listened to me-”

“I always listened to you!”

“Oh yeah? What’s my favorite band?”

“Um…Nickelback?”

“I should kick you in the dick for that.”

“I’m close though, right?!”

“ Wrong. ” Frustration has me rolling my eyes and shaking my head. “So very fucking wrong further proving my point.”

His lips pull together to one side in order to bide him a moment to concoct a retort. “Test me again.”

“Least favorite type of food?”

“Korean!”

“ French. ” Gagging mindlessly occurs. “Why do they have to fucking braise everything or always offer brie as an app?!”

His face wrinkles yet again over his mistake. “Test me a third time.”

“No,” I bite without reluctance. “It’s not gonna matter what I ask, you’re gonna get the answer wrong because you never listened to me.

Just like you never really talked to me.

You talked at me. You told me about your family.

And your wants. And your dreams. And your expectations but never asked me about mine.

What happened to my mom. Why my dad isn’t in the picture.

What I wanted to do after this portion of my career ended.

Hell, you never even asked me if I had any hobbies.

You just focused on what you enjoyed us doing and assumed it went double for me, which it didn’t.

I could not give a fuck less about bird watching. ”

Shock tumbles his jaw to his sandal bearing feet.

“ I’m not your person, Wheeler. And if you take a moment to stop chasing me simply because I’m the one that ‘got away’, maybe you’ll actually find whoever that is.” There’s no stopping the smile that slips onto my face. “The same way I’m pretty sure I have.”

Surprise and sadness overthrow his expression, allowing an easy exit to be taken.

Sure, what started out between us was fake, but neither of us can deny how real it’s become.

How real we want it to continue to be.

Especially not after the moment we had in the bathroom this morning.

I don’t think I’ve ever been that honest with anyone other than myself.

And I don’t think he has either.

And I believe that alone is the perfect base to a beautiful relationship.

Weaving my way over to the edge table near the water that they’ve procured requires grace and flexibility due to the fact no one seems interested in moving or being moved – most likely for fear of losing their “golden” spot.

Upon my arrival, I have a clear view of the stage where Bryn is singing a very familiar song in a low, raspy, borderline unemotional tone all alone. “Is she really singing ‘Sexy Back’?”

J.T. lightly chortles. “Yeah.”

“Like a Klingon?”

“Yeah,” he laughs louder while rising to his feet.

“Does she know that it’s far from sexy?” I tease between snickers.

“Eh,” Jer shrugs off, “the fuckboy you used to date sounds worse.”

Rather than allowing for a rebuttal, my fake boyfriend I can’t wait to call real, lovingly cups my face with both hands and presses his lips warmly against mine.

Our lips spread in tandem to gift us both a taste of one another, something we haven’t had in what feels like decades.

Hints of liquor and mint are met with that of taffy allowing every lash to be filled with answers of what’s kept us apart for past few hours.

And it has only been a few hours in spite of the fact we’re melting into each other like it’s been eons.

J.T. is first to pull back, yet I’m the one who speaks, “Mint Julep?”

“Mint Jaxa ,” he playfully corrects. “Gotta stay in theme.”

“Aren’t those traditionally made with bourbon?”

Curiosity cocks an eyebrow. “Yes.”

“Does whiskey know you’re cheating on it?”

Amusement dances around his stare while his thumbs gently stroke my cheeks. “Sometimes on it, never on you.”

Rather than let relief over the proclamation settle in, I nervously inquire, “Have you ever cheated on a chick before?”

“No.” His lips gingerly feather mine. “And I’m not about to start now.”

This time comfort manages to capture hold as one more press lands against my lips.

Claps of approval indicate the end of Bryn’s singing and aid in us separating again.

Afterward, J.T. joyfully states, “I got you something from one of the booths Bryn and I stopped at on our way here.”

“It isn’t jewelry, is it?” Flopping down into the chair he’s pulled out occurs on a defeated sigh. “Because-”