Page 9 of Free Agent

Shortly after that greeting, the theatrics began, a full blown light and smoke show as the players were introduced.

The loudest reaction in the arena of course happened when one Kevion Ward was introduced.

He jogged onto the court and came straight to where we were sitting, doing a whole handshake with Sierra —complete with a kiss—and giving me a quick dap of acknowledgement before he moved on around the court to complete the team’s choreographed pregame show.

That sweet gesture was another thing that was going to have a bunch of think pieces behind it.

I wasn’t sure how Sierra handled it when people reason latched onto moments like this between them as some supposed proof that Kevion was a dirtbag. Monty’s name stayed in mess, but that was because his ass was messy.

It made sense.

But apparently, professional athletes didn’t publicly, proudly show affection for their partners unless it was to put on a show.

I knew it wasn’t like that though.

Not with them.

Now, I firmly believed it wasn’t up to anyone except a person’s spouse to say whether they were good at being a spouse or not. I also knew from firsthand experience that men were very often trash, and were going to do whatever they wanted to do, regardless of how much they supposedly loved their wives.

And… maybe Kevion was a closet dirtbag.

But he also loved the shit out of Sierra and their daughter, made obvious in his actions and behavior where they were concerned when no cameras were around.

And honestly?

It showed in the level of security Sierra carried herself with.

She was… breezy.

If he was fucking around on her, it would show up in the way she conducted herself and engaged their relationship, and not to mention… she would have told me.

Or… maybe I just wanted that kind of certainty for her, really, really bad, since I couldn’t say any of the same.

Anyway.

As much as I hated the level of constant scrutiny my friend was under, I’d be lying if I claimed it didn’t feel good to relax because I was nowhere near the biggest “celebrity” in the vicinity, which meant all eyes would not be on me this time.

I settled back, ordering a drink when the opportunity came and eased into watching the game and talking with Sierra and the occasional person who came up to us instead of worrying about anything else that was going on.

Until the attendance of the courtside seats became what was going on.

It was a normal thing for the camera crew to come around, focusing on who was seated courtside, those shots got attention. Still, I had to plaster pleasantry instead of annoyance on my face as the camera person settled right in front of me and Sierra, and suddenly our faces were broadcast on the massive court screens.

“Stellar Arena, let’s give it up for the first lady of Brawler Basketball, Mrs. Sierraaaaa Waaaaard!”

Consummate professional, Sierra was quick with the perfectly balanced smile, waving to the cheering crowd before she threw up the Double-B hand sign, which really sent everybody into a frenzy.

They rested on her for another moment, and I expected them to move on to another actual celebrity, but then the focus moved to… me.

“Our first lady is joined by?—”

My stomach lurched.

“Everybody’s favorite Black girl in STEM, Roriiiii Mitcheeeell!”

Oh thank God.

No mention of Monty.

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