Page 5 of Endgame

Knight clicked his tongue in mock disapproval. “Well, I’m afraid that answer’s just not gonna cut it, Li. In fact, I’m not only insisting that you come, but that you save me a dance.”

His smile and charm were contagious. And honestly, his vibe was so affable, Lila doubted that he had any interest in her other than a potential friendship.

“Well, when you put it that way…”

“Excellent.” He took out his phone. “Give me your digits, Lila dear, so that I may text you and remind you of this party you have now promised you will attend. And if you need to borrow any athletic gear. I’m sure that between the three of us, we can hook you up.”

While Lila recited her number, she noticed that King’s expression had darkened slightly. Almost like he was annoyed. At her? No…that wasn’t it. At Knight, maybe? Whatever it was, Jason also noticed and made a crack about how King should save a dance for Lila too. Once again, King’s eyes were on her, silently assessing, his mouth quirked up in the slightest of half smiles.

“I don’t think you could handle me, Lila.” The timbre of his voice was deep and decadent, and Lila had to concentrate really hard to suppress the shiver that it elicited.

“I guess we’ll find out,” she quipped with a raised eyebrow, happy that, for once, she had a somewhat witty reply at the ready. She couldn’t exactly explain what she felt when she was around King, just that whatever it was, she felt it…everywhere. And it was unlike anything she’d experienced before.

“It’s settled, then,” Knight interjected, regaining Lila’s focus. “You’ll come, you’ll dance, you’ll have a great time.”

“I’ll come, I’ll attempt to dance, and I’ll have a great time. With a group of my girls so I don’t feel outnumbered,” Lila amended, much to Knight’s apparent delight. He stuck his fist out, which Lila tentatively bumped with hers.

“Deal.”

Chapter 4

“Istill can’t believe that the Knight Patrick personally invited you to Jock Jam,” Dani sighed dreamily. She and Vicky were clad in oversize matching basketball jerseys that they’d modified to fit like shift dresses along with coordinating Jordans. They were both huge sports fans and had about passed out when Lila had told them that the Knight Patrick not only invited her to the party of the year but had also asked for her number. Add in that he’d actually sent her a couple of texts? They seemed in total awe of her.

Wren was sprawled across Lila’s bed, hair in two French braids, dressed in her signature boyfriend jeans and tank top with a zip-up hooded sweatshirt to complete the look. “I’m a boxer in training,” she’d said in explanation when she arrived.

“You’re more than welcome to ride with us,” Lila replied, pulling on white knee socks with a couple of navy blue stripes banding the top. Thankfully, it was unseasonably warm for September, with temps in the 50-60s at night, so she could get away with wearing the knee socks with a pair of short navy bike shorts and a long-sleeved white thermal crop top. She threw an unbuttoned Yankees jersey on to complete the look.

“Thanks, but we have to make a pit stop to grab some dinner first,” Vicky replied. “But we’ll text you when we get there.”

Dani and Vicky said their goodbyes and headed out, leaving Lila and Wren in Lila’s room. Thankfully, Becky was out on one of her twelve-mile runs, so her weird energy wasn’t invading their space.

Lila took one last look in the mirror while donning a white Yankees hat and turned to her best friend. “Well, how do I look?”

“Like every athlete’s little fantasy come to life.”

“Stop teasing.”

“This time, I’m serious.” Wren got up and crossed over to where Lila was standing. “You’re what we call a late bloomer, my friend. And you’re blooming like whoa right about now. Own the hotness.”

“Thanks, friend. And thanks for taking one for the…team…to come with me tonight.”

“Your pun is noted and thoroughly appreciated, and it is my pleasure to be your wing woman during this night of athletic debauchery.”

“I owe you DDPs for life after this.” Wren’s drink of choice was a Diet Dr. Pepper, always and forever.

“You just might,” Wren agreed.

They heard the party before they saw it. Wren had grown up in this college town, so she knew all the sneaky, free places to park. They were about a block away from the nondescript side street that housed the majority of Bradley U’s star athletes. Everybody referred to said street as Jock Row, which was basically a narrow half street that ended in a dead end that featured a string of houses that had unofficially become athletic housing because of their proximity to the university’s sports facilities and its state-of-the-art gym.

They entered the party from the east. Based on his directions, Knight’s house sat at one corner at the end of the road, and Jason and King’s house was directly across the street on the other corner. A parking lot stretched between the two houses next to a high cinder block retaining wall that ended the street. That space between had become the center of the party, with large speakers pumping out music. The kegs weren’t out in the open, since not everyone attending was over 21, but they were accessible if you knew which houses to enter. Not that Lila had any interest in keg stands.

Wren smiled because if there was one thing she did love to do, it was dance. “Come on, Li, they’re playing old school Missy Elliot.”

Lila allowed herself to be dragged into the fray and started dancing with her friend. After a while, she felt her phone vibrate from the belt bag she was wearing cross-body style. It was a text from Dani. After sending her their location, Lila shot a text to Knight as well. Might as well let him know they were there.

Since her phone was out, she decided to wrangle Wren into taking a selfie, with the promise that she’d only post it on her Insta stories.

“A selfie isn’t a selfie unless it’s a Knight Patrick selfie,” a jovial voice boomed from behind them before he ducked down into the frame. Lila snapped the photo and then spun around just in time to be lifted up into a hug by the massive football player. “Hey there, Li. Glad you could make it. You better send me that pic.” He set her back down and motioned his head toward Wren. “And who is your friend here? I’m assuming your name’s not Rocky?”

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