Page 77 of Full Court Press

“I gotta go.” He walked to the corner and grabbed his belongings, then walked back over to where I stood.

“If I stay, I’m going to fuck you.”

My eyebrow lifted. “Where’s the problem?”

“You gotta earn your rights back to this dick, shorty. As much as I want to say forget you, I can’t. I love you too much, and seeing you again only brought back memories and the love I have for you. I’m about to hurt somebody’s feelings and possibly be traded after I do. But you gotta show me that you’re worth the risk.”

I frowned. “So you’re going to be fucking her until I do?”

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to. I’ll see you around.” He walked away and out the door, leaving me upset, hurt, and . . . hopeful.

It was Game Two of the NBA Finals.

Detroit Vipers versus the San Diego Suns.

I was thankful this was a home game because Nana didn’t like to travel far since she’d gotten older, but whenever we were at home, she made sure she was there, front and center.

Drew, my moms, and Kyani sat beside her, and of course, Kiyanne and Anais were next to them. I smiled and saluted them before my eyes traveled to the third row. Piper sat with the tall, dark-skinned woman she had come with to the gala and Robyn Smith.

My heart flipped a little from both nervousness and happiness. So many nights, I dreamed of seeing her face again. Now that she was here in the flesh, trying to win back my love, I was conflicted about my future with Anais and if I was ready to be traded. I already knew if I chose Piper, Orlando was shipping my ass off like a premium package.

Even though I wasn’t ready to live in another state, I would trade it all for the woman who embedded herself in my life in such a short time.

“Alright, gentlemen. Let’s get out there and show them who run this shit. The goal is the ring, so let’s get it! Vipers on three!” Coach Brown yelled. “One, two, three!”

“Vipers!” we all yelled in unison.

“Let’s eat these niggas up real smooth, brodie,” Is said to me while heading onto the court. I clapped hands with him.

“Like butter, baby.”

I set my personal business aside and focused on the court and winning the championship at the end of it all.

By halftime, we had a fifteen-point lead. Those San Diego boys were restless. As usual, they couldn’t fuck with Isaiah and me.

Ghost and Phantom.

We were like Shaq and Kobe in their prime. We stayed giving these teams a run for their money because of our impeccable chemistry on the court. In ten years, we’d only lost four games, but the wins were greater than the losses.

We were currently in the locker room, refueling and going over our next plays, when the door to the locker room opened and the operations manager, Brendan, walked in.

“Uh, Grey. You’re being summoned on the court.”

I frowned.

“For what?” Coach asked. “We’re in the middle of strategizing.”

“They said it’s to honor him as this year’s MVP. They want to do it before the halftime show.”

“Who the hell are they?”

“Administration.”

“The hell?” Coach mumbled.

“They ain’t honor this nigga enough at the gala?” our teammate, Deontae Rhodes, asked as everyone laughed.

“Alright, give us five,” Coach told him as Brendan nodded and walked back out. Coach quickly went over the plays before we all filed out to head back to the court. I had no idea what this was about because nowhere in the history of basketball did they do this during a game.