Breck ground his molars and squared his shoulders, then locked his fiery gaze back on that basketball hoop. Shot number two. Kai’s heart pounded loudly, even as the arena fell into a nervous hush. Breck let it ride. Kai tensed with bated breath, tracking that ball… until it landed with a glorious swish.
The crowd went crazy.
Kai exhaled in relief.
Breck, however, barely feigned a smile, his lithe body falling back into point-guard position. The game commenced into the final quarter. Patriots 103, Flyers 97.
Not that Kai stayed to watch. He wanted Breck to win, after all, and wasn’t taking any chances. If Breck had seen him, then it was possible Kai was distracting him. In hindsight, he’d certainly had that effect on the guy last fall.
Which, of course, now begged the question: was that the real reason Breck hadn’t wanted him to come? He’d been afraid that Kai’s presence would derail him and sabotage the game?
Chest tight, Kai made his way toward the exits, hoping like hell that he was reading this all wrong. Surely he was just being paranoid. No way Breck had spotted him in that giant crowd.
Pushing through the doors, he glanced back over his shoulder. “You’ve got this, Breck.”
* * * *
“B, my man. Forget about the monarchy, you were a straight-up magician tonight.”
Breck chuckled and gave Charlie a fist bump, then took a gulp of beer from his bright red Solo cup. By the time he lowered his drink, his smile was gone. Because it’d been forced. He didn’t feel like smiling. Hell, he didn’t even feel like celebrating. Their win tonight hadn’t been pretty. Truth be told, they’re barely pulled it off. Which wouldn’t have been the case if he’d had his head in the game.
A fact that Charlie obviously knew. He was just trying to make Breck feel better. Unfortunately, the well-intentioned gesture only made him feel worse.
Fighting a scowl, he glanced around their packed frat house. Every room was crammed so full, it was busting at the seams. Music pumped and throbbed, pulsating the walls. The party had been going for a good four hours now, the second keg already tapped and flowing non-stop. Needless to say, everyone was wasted, shouting above the music, laughing and stumbling into one another.
If only Breck shared their elation, the celebratory bliss radiating off them like fucking floodlights. But he didn’t. Which wasn’t to say that his own buzz wasn’t rocking, because it was. Every now and then, he’d catch himself slurring or listing to the side. Thing was, unlike the rest of the party goers, his buzz wasn’t feeding all the happy-happy-joys. It was fueling pent-up aggression and festering resentment.
He was pissed. And not just a little bit.
Kai had showed up at the fucking game.
After Breck had specifically told him not to come.
But had the guy respected his wishes? Hell no.
What’s more, Kai hadn’t merely shown up, but had parked his ass in Breck’s direct line of sight. Smackdab behind the see-through backboard of the motherfucking basket. After halftime, when the teams had switched sides, Breck had spotted him next to some fans with painted faces. They’d been shaking their pompoms and had drawn his attention, and there stood Kai, looking incredible as ever. From that point on, he was all Breck saw. Every time he drove his team down to score, every time he wove in close to the basket for a shot. It was all he could do not to make eye contact, or hell, even look at him, as Kai watched from the stands. Which absolutely obliterated Breck’s focus and destroyed his game.
Jegs snorted. “Shit. Magician of what? Making our sweet lead vanish into thin air before the audience’s eyes?”
Breck stiffened, then feigned a laugh and shoved him. “As if, bitch. I was inside that paint as much as you.”
Jegs scoffed. “Yeah, playing with your dick instead of making shots.”
Charlie shook his head and pointed at Breck with his beer. “Naw, man. He brought the heat. Just changed up his tactics is all. Swapped out his flamethrower for a blowtorch.” He shot Breck a look. “Ain’t that right, B. All part of the strategy to keep the other team guessing.”
Breck grunted and chugged the rest of his beer.
Jegs coughed a laugh. “Okay, if you say so. Although, had we lost, I wouldn’t be so understanding.” He took a swig from his Solo cup, then shifted gears and grinned at Charlie. “But you, dawg. Shit, you were on fire. Breaking ankles all up in the fucking house.”
Charlie beamed and did a quick side-to-side jig, his beer sloshing over his cup’s rim and onto Breck’s shoe. “That’s right. No guard can dance to my beat.” Breck scowled down at his foot and gave it a shake. Charlie returned Jegs’ praise. “And what about that slip to your guard in the third! Bro, you put him in the spin cycle!”