Page 49 of On Merit Alone
“Oh my god. If I say yes, will you get out of my car?” she groaned.
I laughed. “Yes.”
“Okay then,” she grumbled. “But if I oversleep the next morning, I’m blaming you.”
I scoffed as I reached into my pocket. “The game will be over by like ten, Grandma. How many do you need?”
She bit her lip. “Just one.”
I peeked over at her, confused. “I can give you more than that if you want to bring?—”
“Just one, please, Ira. Thanks,” she clipped. And I could tell this was one of those things I shouldn’t push on, especially if I wanted her at that game for me. And I did.
So, handing over the best ticket I had, I gave her a triumphant smile. She shook her head as she accepted it. “Do I get a special send-off for the championships?”
“Tie that score up and then, maybe,” she said.
“I’ll do it if you’re there. So don’t stand me up,” I said, unbuckling my seatbelt. I was supposed to be meeting my sister soon, and looking at Merit’s dashboard clock, I might already be running behind.
“I won't.”
Just to be a jerk, I added, “Also, be sure to wear my shoes. All my biggest fans wear them to the games.”
She bit down on her lip, trying to hide her smile as she shook her head. “Sure.”
Opening the car door, I unfolded my long legs out of the side before looking back. “And Merit?”
“Yes, Mr. King?” she answered sarcastically.
Leaning backward, I moved her sunglasses out of the way so I could see her eyes. Tipping her chin so she was looking at me too. “Don’t ever let a fucker like Scottie, or people in the media, or anybody make you feel like the person that you are is somehow bad. You’re better than that. You’re stronger. I didn’t become a Merit Jones fan because she made pretty shots and won basketball games. I liked her because she’s gritty and determined, and she always leads with that, everything else coming later. I love that about her, and if somebody says that they don’t, then fuck them.”
Her silence was contemplative, if not surprised. Raising my eyebrows, I tapped my thumb on her chin, just to make sure she was listening. “Alright, Six?”
“Okay,” she said softly. And nope. That wasn’t going to work for me.
“Can I get a little more feeling this time?” I asked.
And what did the smartass do? She lifted two fingers to her head in a familiar salute before saying, “Yes, sir.”
Chapter Fifteen
Merit
Believe it or not,I didn’t go to many basketball games.
Being a player, I was almost always in some sort of season of my own, whether overseas or elsewhere. That to say, this was a novel experience, even being at a men’s basketball game, let alone being in the seat Ira had gotten me for the playoff finals.
Floor seats.
Or, more accurately, floorseat.
I couldn’t deny that walking out on the courtside sidelines as a guest for the first time ever was sort of cool. But I also wish Ira would have told me. Because there was about a one-hundred percent chance of me being seen sitting in these seats.
Which was fine, only, I had his stupid shoes on!
The last thing I wanted was to look like some Ira King groupie, especially because I stupidly asked him for just one ticket.
I didn’t want to have to ask one of my teammates to go with me again. We were all close in a way, but not particularly in afriendssort of way. I didn’t want to put them on the spot and make them think they had to hang out with me just because I had no friends of my own to ask.
