Hooped (The Hooped Interracial Romance Series #1) (8 page)

The adrenaline was still flowing
through
my veins, making my heart pound, and I
watched as Devon and the other players ran around, basking in the cheers,
enjoying themselves. I knew that it would probably be a while before the coach
could convince them to go back to the lockers, and I had to admit that I didn’t
want the night to be over either. I wanted to stay right where I was, cheering
until I was hoarse, jumping up and down with everyone else. I didn’t even mind
the fact that there were dozens of girls in the stands right with me, calling
out Devon’s name, trying to get his attention. For the moment, everything was
right with the world, and I was more than happy to be there.

Chapter
Nine

After a while, even the most aggressive of the fans
were starting to get tired; it was a Saturday, so there were plenty of parties
to adjourn to. I had to think that there was probably a party going on in at
least one of the frats or the sororities—maybe even Phi Kappa itself. I looked
around, trying to spot anyone I recognized from the party the night before; but
people were moving around too much for me to be able
actually to identify
anyone.

I wished again that at least one of my friends had
been able to make it to the game with me; none of them really knew very much
about basketball, but it would have been great to have someone to cheer with,
someone to talk to. On the other hand, I was glad to be by myself; I didn’t
want anyone who would notice I was paying special attention to Devon as he
played.

Everyone began to wander out of the
arena,
and I sat down, a little torn as to what
to do with myself. I wanted to talk to Devon—I knew that. But I didn’t know how
I should go about doing it. I tried to tell myself that there would probably be
dozens of girls waiting for him, that it would be difficult to get his
attention.
But then, I thought, he had singled
me out the night before; he had been so good to me.

I wanted to know
exactly
what our relationship was. I wanted to know whether I had just been some kind
of one-night stand for Devon, or if his attention to me had been something
legitimate. I remembered everything my friends had told me about
him,
but I couldn’t make up my mind whether or
not to credit what they had said. The only fair way to decide how to feel about
Devon was to talk to
him, but
the thought
of it made me nervous.

More and more people began to filter out of the
stands, and I watched as the guys on the court finally left, still calling out
to each other, still obviously as excited as anyone could be about winning.
Even if it had been a fairly easy game, all things considered—a good game, not
no-contest, but they had stayed ahead the entire time—it was still a win, which
was exciting for everyone.

I watched Devon disappear into the locker area and
wondered how best to get him alone. There would probably be a lot of people who
wanted to meet him, talk to him. I tried to think of whether I should just wait
outside, or whether I should track down the other entrance into the locker
rooms. I had never done it before; I had always just gone back to the dorms
after the end of the games, or sometimes, if anyone had come with me, I let
myself get talked into going to a post-game party.

I pictured Devon in the showers and shivered at the
mental image. It was only too easy to remember what he looked like naked.
Imagining him with water sluicing down his body was even hotter. For a few
moments,
I sat there thinking about what it would
be like to sneak in after a practice or after everyone else had left—and join
him in the shower. I was still tender from the night before, but I was more
than ready for more sex with
him
if there
was any chance of it.

I had been to the arena several times, but I had never
tried to find the lockers; if Devon was hurrying off to a party—which even if
nothing else about him was true, I had to think he probably was—then he’d most
likely shower as fast as he could, get changed, and leave.

I left the stands and wandered around, losing my way
around the arena. Everything in the concessions was shutting down, the last few
people heading for the exits. I didn’t want to ask where the locker rooms were;
that seemed like it would be too obvious. So instead I tried to look like I was
just wandering around, no particular goal in mind, just enjoying the arena
after the game. I knew it was probably pathetic, but I didn’t have much else
to really fall
back on. There were some girls
heading for the exits in Sealy jerseys, their faces painted with stripes of the
school colors, looking a little disappointed; I hoped that didn’t mean that he
had already left.

I finally found the lockers after making my way around
what seemed like the entire arena. I had a false-start where I ended up in
front of the visitor lockers—until I saw one of the other players come out,
heading for the back of the arena and their bus. It was obvious I was in the
wrong place, but I knew I couldn’t have been far; a few more steps and I was
finally in the right spot.

I was surprised that there weren’t more people hanging
around, waiting
for the players
to come
out. I had thought that the reporters at least would be buzzing and milling
around, looking for quotes, but there were only a couple. Someone commented
that the rest had had the credentials to go
into
the lockers
themselves, and had gotten their quotes and hurried off.

“Great game,” I said as Miles came out. He stopped and
grinned at me.

“Thanks,” he replied.

“That steal from Evans in the third quarter was epic.
I can’t believe you pulled it off.” Miles laughed.

“I couldn’t believe it either! And no foul. It was
close.” We chatted for a
while,
and I
watched as the other players started to filter out, headed to parties or back
to their dorms or
frats
for the night.
Miles told me he was going to an Omega Phi party and asked if I had any plans.
I told him I was probably just going to head back to the dorms.

“The night is
young,
though,” I said with a little grin. “You never know.” He laughed and gave me
another grin before saying he had to head off.
 
I stood off to the side, not trying to be too obvious; I watched as more
and more of the players came out, making a beeline for the exit. It was obvious
from their conversations as they walked past me that they were all going to
different parties, and I hoped that Devon wasn’t in too much of a hurry to get
to a party of his own. I hoped that I’d be able to talk to him for at least a
couple of minutes.

As my waiting dragged on, I started to doubt myself;
was I being stupid, hanging out like this? If I’d had Devon’s number—if I had
thought to get it from him—I could have just texted him to find out what he was
going to be up to after the game. I thought about how crushing it would be if
he saw me and then pretended like he didn’t even know who I
was,
like the girls had said he usually did.
At least I won’t be making a
scene
because there’s practically no one here
anymore,
I thought to myself, looking around nervously. If Devon didn’t
come out soon, they’d start locking up the
arena,
and I’d be kicked out without even having a chance to talk to him. But I
decided to wait anyway.

Chapter
Ten

After another fifteen minutes, having seen
everyone—even the coaches—leave the locker rooms, I had to know if I had missed
Devon altogether.
Maybe I just missed him
while I was wandering around like an idiot. Maybe he takes really long showers,
and he’s still in the locker room. Maybe he was too busy giving interviews
after the game to get into the showers quickly.
I knew at least that there
was no one in the locker room except for—maybe—Devon himself. Everyone else
that was even remotely affiliated with the team had already left. So I could
sneak in, see if he was in there.

I hesitated only a few feet from the door. If I snuck
in that could look really creepy. I bit my bottom lip and considered the
situation. It could look really creepy, but it could also be a precursor to
more sex with a guy who was really good at it—not that I had a basis for comparison,
but I thought any guy who could get me off three times in one session was
definitely good at it. I grinned to myself at the thought of sneaking into the
locker room and finding Devon in the showers, taking off my clothes and
slipping underneath the showerhead next to him. It could be really hot—and at
least then, I thought, I’d have my answer one way or another. If he really
wasn’t interested in me beyond a one-night stand, then he’d just tell me to go
away. That thought gave me a little pause; it would be humiliating to be pushed
away by a naked guy.

There was also the fact that I had to believe I wasn’t
the first person to think of that idea. There were probably plenty of
basketball bunnies who had done the same thing—and gotten a bad result. I didn’t
want to look like a groupie. I just wanted to talk to Devon and find out what
he really thought. I wanted to know
whether the
warnings
I had heard were accurate. I shouldn’t be thinking about
getting in some sneaky sex with Devon, even if he was incredibly hot. I should
be thinking about getting answers.

I decided
just to peek
into the locker rooms. If the showers were on, I’d be able to hear it from the
door, and I’d know—since everyone else had already left—that it was Devon. I
could wait for a little while longer; the crew at the arena wouldn’t lock
everything up if there was still a player there. I might get kicked out, but I
could hang out in front, wait and talk to him. If he was still showering, he
obviously wasn’t in a huge hurry to get to a party.

I took a deep breath and looked around; there wasn’t
anyone watching. I figured security would have already stopped me if they were
paying attention at all. I opened the door to the locker room and strained my
ears to catch any sound, any sign that there was someone inside. I couldn’t
hear anything at all. It was dead silent inside.
Well, if nothing else, he definitely isn’t showering,
I thought.
But he could be getting dressed. I took a step into the locker room, standing
on the balls of my feet, ready to dart out if a security guard or someone else
caught me.

I peeked in. There was absolutely no one in there at
all; all of the lockers I could see were closed, locks fastened. The one marked
with Devon’s name was just as shut up as any of the others. Obviously he wasn’t
in the locker room at all. I sighed, stepping out of the locker room and back
into the hallway. I had apparently miss-timed my arrival.
He probably grabbed a fast shower as soon as he got in and then booked
it back to the frat,
I thought sadly. If he was at a party, then my chances
of finding him were close to zero. He’d be basking in the accolades of a game
well played, and it would be impossible to get him alone.

You
should have gotten his number before you slept with him. You should have just
sent a text to everyone that you were okay and waited for him to wake up.
It would have been so much better to have the conversation in the morning, to
find out before I had even told Kelly anything about meeting Devon or sleeping
with him what the score was. If Devon really did view me as just another
one-night-stand, I could deal with it privately without having to tell anyone.

I sighed. I couldn’t even ask anyone what Devon’s
number was. None of my friends would know it, and based on his reputation,
anyone else I might ask—including his teammates—would know
immediately
that I’d slept with Devon. I would
just have to wait
for the chance
to run
into him, or maybe for the next game—though I thought I recalled that the next
one was an away game. Somehow, I’d have to find the chance to get him alone. I
had to know what he thought.

I decided that since Devon was obviously not in the
locker room, he must have left already, and it would be stupid to get myself
kicked out of the arena for no reason. I told myself to stop acting like a
lovesick fool, and just go back to the dorms like I said I would. I’d be better
able to think about how to tackle the situation tomorrow. I started off down
the hall, away from the lockers and towards the exit. It was a bummer, but at
least I could hold onto my hope for a little bit longer.

As I turned the corner, I saw the real reason that
Devon wasn’t in the locker room. Right there, a few feet away as I came around
the bend, I saw him, plain as day. There was a girl in front of him; I couldn’t
see her face. I couldn’t tell who it was, because whoever it was, she was in
the midst of kissing Devon.

Continued in Hooped #2,
the hooped series.
Click here to
continue.

Click here to get an email
when each Hooped book is released