Hooped #4 (The Hooped Interracial Romance Series, Book #4) (7 page)

That afternoon, when my classes were done, Devon met
with me on campus, surprising me as I walked out of the building for my last
class of the day. He wrapped his arms around me from
behind,
and I squealed, struggling for just a moment before I
realized who it was. “You jerk!” I said, turning around in his arms and giving
him a playful cuff to the shoulder.

“As if you didn’t know it was me,” he pointed out,
kissing me quickly in front of everyone. I broke away from his lips, laughing
and shaking my head.

“What, you don’t think your girlfriend is so hot that
random guys would accost her on the walkway?” Devon let out a growl.

“If they do you just tell me who it is and I’ll beat
the life out of him,” he told me, kissing me again. “I won’t have it.” He
loosened his hold on
me,
and I slipped
free of his arms, taking his hand.

We went to the Student Union for a while to kill some
time before dinner, and Devon told me about the team that the school was up
against that night. “They’re not our prime rivals, but they’re a good team,” he
said, explaining the differences in play. It was fascinating for me to hear his
analysis, the way he sized up the different players on the other school’s team
and their strengths and weaknesses. I knew that Devon was a great player—but
listening to him, comparing our knowledge of tactics and strategy, I thought
that he must have almost as much information as the coach himself. “It’s so
good to be with someone who really likes the game,” he told me, smiling as he
brushed a lock of my hair out of my face.

“You would not believe the number of guys who have
looked at me like a freak because I know stats,” I told him, shaking my head.

“Probably thought that you were too good to be true!”
Devon gave my hand a squeeze. “You are, you know. Smart, gorgeous, great taste
in music and you love basketball. What more could a guy ask for?” I rolled my
eyes.

“Not all guys love basketball. If you were a hockey
player,
I’d be totally screwed. I don’t know anything
at all about baseball, either.” Devon laughed.

“Baseball is pretty boring, so I can give you a pass
on that. If you really want to learn about hockey,
there’s
a couple of guys in the frat who play on the school’s team,
I can have them teach you.”

“I’m happy with basketball as my sport of choice,” I
told Devon, leaning in for a kiss.

We went to dinner together, sitting at a table with
some of his friends, and Devon told me it was weird but awesome to be able to
just eat a meal without having to think too much about whether it would weigh
him down, whether it would be enough carbs and protein to last him through the
game or if he should pick something else. “Maybe you should,” one of his frat
brothers commented jokingly. “I mean, she’s coming home with you after the
game, you’ll want staying power—right?” I rolled my eyes, throwing a piece of
bread at the guy, and Devon gave my thigh a quick squeeze underneath the table,
flashing a grin at me.

After dinner, we went to the game, Devon collecting
our tickets at the box office before leading me through the doors. In spite of
the fact that he was in a general sense of disgrace, everyone made a point of
saying hello to him, giving me a little smile for being in the company of the
star. The basketball bunnies—the girls who wanted to nail one of the members of
the team, most of them with their eyes set on Devon in particular—gave me looks
to kill, trying to flirt with Devon, but having no success. He led me down to
the seats that his friend had gotten for us and went out to the concession
stand while I held onto our spots, to buy me a soda—I didn’t want a beer—and a
bottle of water. “I want to hear you cheer your lungs out even though I’m not
playing,” Devon told me with a grin. “We can spend half time making out.”

While we were waiting for the game to start, the
people in the crowd around us talked to Devon, saying that it was a shame he
wasn’t up there on the court, leading the team to victory. “I made a mistake,”
Devon said, shaking his head and grinning ruefully. “I think the dean made the
right choice, and I’m grateful to get a chance to prove myself. I’m glad I can
cheer the team on, even if I can’t be with them on the court.” I admired the
fact that he was able to be so professional, so polite and courteous.

It was even better when he introduced me to some of
the fans in the special seats along with us as his tutor. “She’s a hard task
master,” he said, gesturing to me. “I know she doesn’t look like it, but she’s
not as sweet and innocent as she looks. She’s going to get me to learn proper
English if it kills me.” I shook hands with the super-fans, alumni and boosters
for the team—the people who got the reserved seats alongside family and close
friends of the team members. It felt so good, for him to be introducing me that
way. It felt like he was
really
, truly
serious about turning over a new leaf, being a better man—and being that better
man with me, because of me.

I watched the players take the court for their
warm-up, and tried not to be disappointed that Devon wasn’t one of them. From
the cheering
of
the crowd, it was obvious
that while everyone else would have preferred Devon to be on the court too,
they weren’t going to let the team as a whole down. The coach looked up into
the stands and gave Devon a quick, apologetic nod, and Devon gave him a return
nod, standing up and cheering as the guys assembled in their various
configurations. “Eventually I’m going to either be kicked out or graduate—one
way or another, I’m not going to be on the team anymore,” Devon pointed out to
me. “They need to be able to keep going, especially the young
guys
when I’m off the team. Hell, I could pass
the test and get back on the team and then get injured before next season.”

“Don’t say that!” I told him, giving him an elbow to
the ribs. “You’ll jinx yourself. I don’t want you injured.” Devon laughed.

“Babe, I’ve been injured more times than I can count.
Pulled muscles, sprained ankles, all of it comes with the territory. Even if I
could hit the pros after this, eventually I’m going to stop being able to play.
It’s just the way things are.”

We cheered our heads off, jumping up and down, and as
I watched the game,
Devon
and I discussed
the different strategies that the team was using in his absence. “I’m glad to
see Miles and Lee stepping up,” Devon told me as the game went into
halftime
. “Miles, of course, he has to lead
while I’m gone. I figured Lee was ready to get in the game, but there’s never
any way to know until it happens.” I pointed out that they weren’t scoring as
many points as usual, even if they were keeping up a lead—the offense game was
not as strong as it would be when he rejoined them, though the defense was
beefing itself up.

“They can’t count on you to score so many points that
the other team just can’t even keep up,” I said, grinning. “They have to
actually work for it with you on the sidelines.”

“They’ll have to find someone who can score points
almost as well as I can.” I shrugged.

“I don’t think anyone can. You’re kind of unique, you
know.” Devon laughed at that, pulling me in for a kiss.

“I’m only as good as the woman I’m with,” he told me,
holding my gaze. I rolled my eyes.

“You were plenty good at the game long before you met
me, you big liar.” I gave him a playful
shove
and Devon wrapped his arms around me, burying his face against my neck and
giving me a playful bite.

“But I’m way better now,” he murmured in my ear.
“Better at life, better at studying already, and as soon as I can prove myself,
I’ll be better at being a basketball player, too.”

The game started up again, and we went right back to
cheering, screaming for the team, moving with the crowd. Devon was every bit as
excited as I was—maybe even more so, shouting to his teammates that they could
do it, that they could win. Whenever he wasn’t focused entirely on the game, he
was focused on me, to the exclusion of everyone else, no matter how the other
girls in the crowd around us tried to get him to pay attention to them. I felt
almost as excited as I had the night that I’d gone to the game to watch him,
after he’d cleared everything up with
me
and we’d decided to try and see each other seriously. It was so good—I loved it
so much.
We should go to a pro
game
if we can get tickets. I bet Devon would
love that.
I decided that I’d try and find out if either of the teams we
liked would be playing locally, so that we could try and score even
nosebleed-seat tickets to see them. If Devon had a birthday coming up, that
would be a hell of a present.

My attention was torn between Devon—who was definitely
interested in kissing or teasing me
anytime
there was a lull in the game—and the players themselves; the game was more
intense without the star player, a closer, tighter game with both teams
struggling to keep the advantage. Throughout the second half of the game I
tingled all over, my heart pounding in my chest and my throat aching from
screaming and cheering but so much adrenaline in my body that I almost couldn’t
make myself care that it hurt. I knew my voice would be nearly gone the next
day; but standing with Devon, watching the game, being a part of it, made it
somehow all worth it. I almost wished that it would go into overtime, that the
game would last as long as humanly possible—just to keep that moment, that
closeness and the feeling of pride I had as Devon’s girlfriend and tutor, as
someone accepted as part of the team dynamic, even in the purely supportive
role I had. “You should be on the cheerleading squad,” Devon murmured in my ear
as the team took a time-out.

“You just want to see me in a skimpy skirt, jumping up
and down for you,” I said tartly, giving him a shove. Devon grinned.

“Oh yeah. And then, too, you’d be able to have a
ringside spot for every single game—even the away games.” I laughed and rolled
my eyes.

“As long as you can get me tickets, I’ll come to every
game, you big dummy. I’d go to every game even if we weren’t dating.” Devon
chuckled.

“I see why you want to be my girlfriend now,” he told
me, pretending to be offended. “You’re just using me for free tickets!” I
rolled my eyes again.

“Right, because I totally went after you. I followed
you to a movie theater—oh wait! That was you.” Devon laughed out loud, hugging
me tightly before turning his attention back onto the game.

In the end, the team barely eked out a win, keeping
only a few points ahead of the other school, and the whole crowd in the arena
was exhausted, pumped with adrenaline, screaming and cheering—even the other
side, even though they had lost. I couldn’t remember a better game since I had
gone to the school, and having Devon at my side was the best part, even if I
knew he wished he could be on the court, right alongside his friends and
teammates, instead of watching them win.

Chapter
Nine

As the team headed off of the court and the crowd
started to move towards the exits, Devon gave my hand a quick squeeze. “Hey, do
you mind if I head over to the locker room, babe? I want to tell the guys how
proud of them I am.” I grinned.

“And you want to hear them tell you that
they already wish
you were back, right?” Devon
shrugged, grinning at me. “Go on.” Devon gave me a quick but lingering kiss,
holding my body tightly against his.

“I won’t be long,” he told me. “We need to get some
studying in still tonight—and I won’t slack off and disappoint you.” I rolled
my eyes, wishing that we could just stay like this—but knowing that Devon
needed to hang out with his friends, that he needed to be with them.

“Go, before I distract you again with my feminine
wiles,” I told him, slithering free of his arms.

“I’ll text you. You’ll stick around?” I shrugged.

“I got nowhere else to be, except to hang around with
you. Text me when you’re done patting everyone on the ass and telling them
good
game.
”
Devon laughed, shaking his head and making his way to the exit without me. I
watched him go, nodding and smiling at the people who stopped to chat with him,
and sat down. I was so tired; but it had been such a great game, even without
Devon playing. I could see the excitement in him; I knew that he wished he
could be on the court, scoring points with his teammates. I couldn’t take the
celebration away from him; he needed to stay in touch, to keep his connection
with the rest of the guys. He was going to be playing with them again—it
wouldn’t do to completely abandon them now.

I watched as the crowd began to thin, thinking back to
the last few times I had been to
games
;
how different this game was from the previous two times. It was hard to believe
that it had only been a couple of weeks since I had come out, hoping to tell
Devon I had feelings for him, only to run into him afterward, wrapped up in the
arms of another girl—a girl who had turned out to be my supposed best friend on
campus, my roommate. And then the game before this one, I had watched, cheered,
loved seeing Devon—only to find out shortly after the game was won that he was
suspended from the team and from the school. I could almost get the feeling
that as much as I loved basketball and as much as I loved Devon, that it wasn’t
safe for my mental health to go to games; somehow something bad always seemed
to happen.