Hooped #3 (The Hooped Interracial Romance Series, Book #3) (3 page)

I tried to focus on watching the practice, listening
to the coach call out orders and tweaks and critiques, but I couldn’t keep
myself from thinking about Kelly and the whole stupid confrontation we’d both
been through. She had said that Devon had picked her name to give me because he
knew that I’d take his side instead of hers. I felt my cheeks burning as I
remembered what she said about the fact that I’d lost my virginity to Devon and
how it was making me crazy.

I cheered Devon on, trying to find the balance between
just sitting there staring at him and looking like a crazy fan-girl, smiling
back at him every time he glanced in my direction, watching his flashy moves as
he went up against the best players on his team. I had to admit to myself that
even with the flashiness, there was no one who could say that Devon wasn’t a
really phenomenal player; it wasn’t just that he was visible. I could tell that
he practically breathed basketball. He was light on his feet, quick to move
through any little hole the defense created, and he made shots as if he didn’t
even think about it—and sank them. Whether he was working with or against Miles
in the drills, he was a
standout
player.

Even though I was cheering and doing my best to pay
complete attention, though, my mind kept going back to Kelly. Why hadn’t she
just admitted it? If she really valued our friendship and wanted to continue to
be close, it wouldn’t make any sense to keep up her story. It wouldn’t make
sense to make me choose between her and Devon. Devon had seemed so sincere when
he’d explained what had
happened,
when he
confessed to me about his previous playboy ways; why should I doubt him when he
gave me the name of the girl? But by the same token, Kelly had proven herself
over years of being my friend to be someone I could trust. If she was telling
me the truth, then I owed her the apology to beat all apologies—but if she was
lying, and Devon was telling the truth, how could I ever trust her again,
knowing that she was just trying to drive a wedge between Devon and me? It
seemed like
one
or the other of the two
other people in the situation were trying to drive me away from the other—and I
had no idea for sure who was the guilty one.

The end of practice nearly took me by surprise; I was
so lost in thought that I didn’t know it was ending until the shrill, sharp
whistle cut through my mind. I came down from the bleachers, grinning in spite
of my anger and confusion, hoping against hope that I’d be able to get a minute
with Devon before I had to leave; I realized that I had to get to class within
a few minutes—I’d spent most of the morning watching the guy I liked
play
or thinking about Kelly.

“Hey Jenny,” Devon called up to me as I made my way
down. I rolled my eyes.

“It’s still not working,” I told him with a pretend
scowl. “I still hate to be called that.” Devon laughed, taking my hand and
helping me down the last step onto the court.

“I’ll just have to make it really, really good next
time I say it then, won’t I?” He grinned at
me,
and I couldn’t help but smile back. Devon leaned in and kissed me lightly on
the lips, giving me a quick hug.

“You’re going to have to work really hard to make me
like that nickname,” I warned him, blushing as he gave me a flirty, knowing
look.

“I will,” he promised. “But first; have you got a
minute? I want to introduce you to the guys.” I looked at the clock on the
wall—I only had a few minutes before I had to be in class.

“I wish I could,” I said, smiling sadly. It gave me
a thrill
to know that Devon wanted to introduce
me to his friends; it made what he had said the night before about being
serious about me, about really wanting to be with me, that much more real.
“I’ve got to get to class in like ten
minutes,
though. Not even for you am I going to be late.” Devon laughed.

“It’s all good babe,” he said, giving me another quick
kiss. “Let me dry off some of this sweat and I’ll walk you there, how about
that?” I grinned, unable to help myself.

“I’d love that,” I said, standing up on the balls of
my feet to give him another fast kiss. Devon grabbed a towel off of the bench
and dried himself off quickly.

“I’ll grab a shower once I get back to the house,” he
told me, tossing the towel into his duffel and slinging it over his shoulder.
He took me by the hand and led me out of the practice court, and I felt the
envious glances of all of the girls who’d come to cheer on the team in
practice.

We chatted while we walked across campus together,
hand-in-hand, and I couldn’t help but feel absolutely thrilled. Not only was
Devon willing to introduce me to his friends; he was making it clear to
everybody that he liked me, more than just a one-night stand, more than just a
fling. He teased me about being a bookworm and study
freak
and jokingly asked for my critiques of his practice; I
pretended to break down his gameplay, making ridiculous observations about his
flashiness and crowd appeal.

We took the stairs up to my class—I reasoned that I might
end up being a minute or two late, but it was worth it for the extra minute or
two I could spend with Devon. “I have an idea,” Devon said, pulling me close to
give me one final kiss as we came to the door for my class.

“Oh?” I asked, wishing I didn’t have to leave him,
wishing that I could just blow the class off and spend the rest of the
afternoon with him.

“Come by tonight when you’re done with classes; I’ll
introduce you to the guys then.” I thought about it. For sure it would be good
to have an excuse not to be in my dorm, especially with how jumbled up my
thoughts were about Kelly still. I definitely wanted to meet Devon’s friends
and frat brothers.

“Sure,” I said, giving him a quick hug as he finished
kissing me goodbye. “I’ll come by tonight. That sounds great.” Devon grinned at
me
and I turned to go into class, barely
able to make myself pull my hand free of his. Even if I didn’t want to be part
of Devon’s life, spending the evening with him and his frat brothers would be a
welcome distraction. The fact that he really wanted to introduce me
around, that
he wanted to make sure people knew that he was
dating me, meant a lot to me. I couldn’t help but feel like it had to mean that
Devon was sincere.

I knew that Kelly would probably hate it if she heard
about where I was spending my evening; but even though I couldn’t quite bring
myself to totally disregard her insistence that she had never been involved
with Devon, the severity of her dislike was a little much. I didn’t want to be
around her at all if I could avoid it, and if Devon hadn’t invited me to hang
out, I would have been forced to figure out my own excuses for not being in the
dorms and avoiding everyone. I would much rather spend the hours hanging out,
maybe watching a game, getting to know Devon’s friends and being around the guy
I liked than sitting around in the Library or the Student Union, pretending to
study or take part in some club-sponsored event but really stewing about my
friend the whole time. I went into the classroom and got settled in; I had been
just in time, and from the looks on the faces of some of the girls who had come
in around the same time I had, they hadn’t missed the fact that Devon had
walked me there. I grinned to myself and told myself that I would do the right thing
and be good and attentive through my classes, so I could really enjoy myself
that evening hanging out with “the guys” and the man I was quickly falling for.

Chapter
Four

In spite of my anger and worries and confusion about
Kelly, my classes for the afternoon flew by. All afternoon, I was giddy at the
fact that I was going to actually be meeting Devon’s friends, although a little
voice in the back of my mind—Kelly’s voice, it seemed like at the time—told me
that it was just part of the act. Part of Devon trying to make me feel special.
But if he was just trying to get in my
pants,
I thought,
then there would be
no point in keeping up the act and making me feel special.

I avoided my dorm room like the
plague
and didn’t even bother trying to find
any of my other friends when I grabbed lunch. I decided against even going up
to change my clothes before I headed over to the Phi Kappa house; it was just
asking to run into Kelly, and after our confrontation that morning I couldn’t
imagine anyone I wanted to see less than her.

I sent Devon a text that I was coming over. As I was
walking across campus, my phone buzzed in my pocket.
Can’t wait to see you! I even got showered and dressed.
I grinned
to myself, shaking my head. I had to admit that I was really excited to spend
time with Devon—and even more excited to meet his friends. I was a little bit
wary of the Phi Kappa guys; the reputation they had on campus as the rowdiest
partiers
—confirmed by how the party I’d gone to
at the frat house had played out—made me think that by the time I showed up
there, they’d already be drinking, hanging off of the ceiling, daring each
other to crazier and crazier stunts. But if Devon wanted me to meet his
friends, it was a good sign, and I wasn’t about to push it away.

I got
across
campus as quickly as I could, hurrying to avoid running into any of my friends
who might ask where I was headed and why. My heart was beating faster and
faster in my chest as I came closer to the fraternity row; I didn’t know
whether it was because I was anxious to see Devon, anxious his friends wouldn’t
like me, or worried that it was some kind of elaborate prank.

I was surprised as I walked up to the front door of
the frat house; there was no pounding bass, no crowd of revelers, and no sign
that any kind of party was going on at all.
It’s
not even night yet,
Jenn,
I thought,
shaking my head at myself.
Surely even
these guys aren’t partying all the time.
I came to the door and hesitated
just a moment before knocking; I had already told Devon I was on my way—I
couldn’t just back out of it now. “Just a minute!” someone from inside called
out. My heart hammered away in my chest, my blood roaring in my ears. I
swallowed against the tight, dry feeling in my throat, holding myself still so
that my feet wouldn’t take off of their own volition while I waited.

The door opened, revealing a perfectly normal-looking
guy—I thought I’d probably seen him once or twice in the dining hall—in jeans
and a tee shirt. “Hey, you’re Devon’s girlfriend, right? Jenn?” I smiled,
nodding. “Come on in; Devon said you were coming. We’re all in the living
room.” I stepped through the door, taking in a brand-new shock: the frat house
was actually reasonably clean on the inside—a far cry from the state it had
been
in
when I’d been there for the
party. It occurred to me that I hadn’t paid enough attention when I’d been
there the night before to notice whether it had been clean then.

The frat brother, who introduced himself to me as
Brian, led me through the front hall to the living room. “Hey,
Bri
—don’t think you can go scamming on my girl, now,” Devon
said, crossing the room to meet me. I blushed, laughing and rolling my eyes at
him as Devon took my hand in his. He kissed me lightly on the lips, holding my
gaze for a long moment while he smiled.

“
Dunno
man, Brian may not
have the skills on the court, but rumor has it he’s got other skills,” one of
the other brothers commented from the couch. Devon rolled his eyes and led me
deeper into the room, his hand holding mine.

“This is Jenn, everyone; she’s the one I
was
a creepy stalker to the other day.”
Everyone
snickered,
and I felt my
nervousness starting to dissolve. The rest of the brothers hanging out in the
living room—I counted about a dozen of them, scattered around the couch, on the
floor, in a couple of the chairs—looked up from the video game they were either
watching
or playing, pausing long enough
to smile and wave and murmur a quick hello.

“Want anything to drink, Jenn?” One of the guys,
sitting towards the edge of the room, asked. “We’ve got
soda
, beer,
water
, whatever you want.”

“That’s Jason,” Devon told me, leading me towards one
of the uninhabited chairs in the room. “Do you want anything?”

“
Water
would be
nice,” I said, almost asking instead of saying it plainly. Jason stood up and
went into the kitchen, bringing back not only a bottle of water for
me,
but a bunch of other drinks that the other
brothers called for.

“Don’t be nervous,” Devon murmured in my ear, sitting
on the arm of the chair next to me. After the flutter of attention, everyone
began to relax—even me—and I asked questions about the game they were playing;
it was a first-person shooter game, but one I’d never heard of before. I sipped
my water and watched as the different brothers in the frat took turns going up
against each other.

What shocked me the most about the situation was how
respectful everyone was; I had expected a bunch of guys talking about girls in
the crassest terms, comparing their scores—but whether Devon had talked to them
about being on their best behavior, or they were just acting polite because I
was there, the guys talked about their classes, about the upcoming games—NBA
and NHL games, mostly—and the party they would be hosting in coming weeks,
without making a single rude remark about girls. Nobody was getting drunk,
everyone looked as though they had showered in the last 24 hours, and although
they cussed each other out as they played, I got the vibe that they were mostly
normal guys.