Page 7 of Intentional Foul
“I am wearing stilettos. Slow down,” she projected from behind me.
Once we landed on the platform, I shuffled us over to the clear stop and released her hand. Chasity bit down on her bottom lip before she smirked.
“Malcolm did not like you ignoring him, Jhae. Marquise grabbed his arm to keep him from moving the chairs. It might be on social media later,” she warned.
I pinched the bridge of my nose with two fingers to settle myself. The thought of someone posting us and things being taken the wrong way worried me.
“He is going through something because this is not that,” I said, lifting my hands.
“He ain’t going through shit. Malcolm has eyes for you. Hook me up with Marquise,” Chasity asked.
I tilted my head to the side, with twisted lips.
“What?” she asked.
Hooking her up with Marquise wasn’t happening on my watch, and for good reason. He played the field with no intention of stopping. I wasn’t holding her hand when he fucked and left her alone.
“No, and thank me later,” I said.
Chasity rolled her eyes before turning her attention back to me. A rush of fans flooded in, wearing their favorite player’s jerseys, filling the small concession space. I pulled her toward the VIP elevator and flashed the badge. The silver-plated door opened, and we climbed in with Frank. We traveled two floors up before the doors pulled back. Chasity gave me a satisfied grin as we exited the elevator.
Soft music and dim lights greeted us along with a bustling crowd of suits and designer attire. The floor mimicked abasketball court with a large logo in the middle. Plush seating was tucked into the pockets of the room, giving it a more intimate setting. Chasity and I locked arms and landed at the bar.
“What’ll you have?” the bartender asked.
“Water because she is a lightweight,” Chasity teased.
I rolled my eyes before I scanned the top-shelf liquor neatly displayed with the labels out.
“I want something fruity with a pinch of alcohol,” I ordered.
The bartender gave me a smile as one of his locs fell in front of his eyes. He leaned in, showcasing his seductive smile. I gave a tempting glare taking in his toned abs peeking through his fitted shirt.
“What about a drink we call timeout? It’s a mix of strawberry drink and a shot of tequila,” he said, and I bunched my shoulders upward.
“Sure.”
“And you?” he asked Chasity.
“Anything brown but keep it lady-like,” she said, and he tapped the bar top with his knuckles.
I exchanged glances with familiar faces in the music industry and offered a wave or head nod.
“Ladies,” the bartender said.
I turned to find our drinks resting on the bar top. He garnished my drink with strawberry slices and mint. I reached for my purse, but he stopped me.
“This one is on me,” he said, and Chasity wiggled her brows.
It was the fourth quarter before we returned to the sideline with the bartender’s number. I figured by now Malcolm hadcalmed the hell down and worked off the adrenaline. Everything about his text messages were out of pocket. Maneuvering around people to our seats frustrated me as I tried to protect my cup. I pulled my red drink to my lips and scrolled through social media. Ordinarily, I would doom scroll, but I searched for any videos of Malcolm and me kissing.
“Baby, I have the time...” rang through the stadium, and I slammed my eyes shut.
“A timeeeee lesss,” Chasity belting out the lyrics to my song caused me to cringe.
I composed my expression and peered upward, mouthing the words with the crowd. If people knew how it pained me to sing this song, they wouldn’t sing it. Even after the music stopped, they continued to quote the lyrics, and I waved my hands for them to continue.Please end this damn song,I thought to myself as I plastered on a fake smile.
I scanned the arena, and my eyes landed on Malcolm. The intensity with which he stared suggested he could see right through me. I diverted my attention to Marquise, and he smirked as if he knew something I didn’t. Finally, the song ended, and the air returned to my lungs. People will not allow me to grow from heartbreak or evolve.
