he turns back, nodding his chin. “Why this old court, why not the fancy gym or at the house?”
“It’s real out here.” He shrugs. “This is home.”
When I grin, he winks and runs off.
I’m betting Maybell has a lot to do with this side of these guys, the home-grown side. I know they have money, but they don’t live like they do as far as their person. They don’t eat at steakhouses or yacht clubs like I assume ritzy people do but make dinners in their own kitchens instead. They use an old beat up court because it’s more comfortable than a half a million dollar one built just for them – I saw the plaque on the wall. I know their dad had it built it in the Brayshaw name just in time for their freshman year. They don’t walk around with their noses in the air, but their shoulders are wide, and heads still held high. If I saw them walking down my streets with the athletic gear they’ve got on right now, I’d swear they belonged.
I stuff the hoodie over my head and slip his shades on, so I can comfortably enjoy Maddoc commanding the show.
Basketball is like a fast pace dance, one that Maddoc has perfected.
With each swift move of his feet, no matter if he cuts left or right or simply drops back, he makes every basket effortlessly – not a single brick shot. But he’s not trying to eat up all the playtime. He works as a captain should, makes sure the ball is sent where it needs to go, but like a magnet seeks its metal home, the ball finds its way back to the big man’s hands.
He runs down the court, and one of the guys comes up to block, so he spins and tosses the ball backward over his head. Captain runs out of nowhere to catch it and dunks the ball before anyone can even attempt to stop him.
“Ooh, dropping dimes, boy!” Royce laughs and the rest of the team shout out their excitement.
I don’t miss the way Maddoc slyly cuts his eyes to me as he looks down to wipe his hands on his shirt.
I laugh to myself.
I saw, big man.
They high five then continue. After a few minutes, they break up into smaller groups and start working position-based drills, so I close my eyes and pretend this is my life.
“Hey.”
Fuck.
I pull myself into a sitting position. “Hey.”
“So ... you’re still here.” Vienna eyes me.
I push the glasses on top of my head. “Still here.”
“You really staying with the guys?”
I ignore her question and she nods.
We sit and watch the guys together, turning to each other with grins when a few shirts come off.
“Hot damn. And I thought football made you ripped.”
“Right?” I look around, counting abs and comparing builds.
“Madman, let’s go!” Royce shouts and I pull my eyes from a fine specimen to look over. When I do, my stare meets a deep glare.
“Oh, girl...” Vienna teases through closed lips. “Somebody doesn’t like your eyes roaming.”
“Maybe if he took his off, they wouldn’t.” I pop a brow at Maddoc, even though he can’t hear me.
Vienna laughs at my side.
And then he does. His hands find the hem at the back of his neck and he pulls, and fuck me if that slight bend doesn’t set him up real fucking nice.
Sweat shines against his tanned skin, rolling over every curve of packed muscle. I have the sudden need to know how his body feels when covered in hard work like it is.
“Damn,” Vienna breathes in awe and I nod along, my eyes locked on his small dark patch at the edge of his shorts.
“Think he’d hook up with me?” she whispers, and I frown.
“I don’t know. Maybe.” It’s the truth. I turn to her. “Think I could kick your ass?”
“I don’t know.” She finally looks to me with a grin. “Maybe,” she mocks.
It’s a lie. We both know I could, which is why when she starts laughing, I do too. But when I turn back to gawk at big man some more and find him staring, yet again, I realize what just happened.
He knew Vienna would say something and I’d react.
He baited me, the conceited shithead, and it worked like a damn charm.
“So he’s off the books ... but what about the other two?”
I look to Royce, then Captain. With a sigh, I turn back to her. “Yeah,” I sigh, “They’re mine too. You want one? Earn him.”
She starts