Page 38 of Home Town Advantage
Her face turns a bit more serious. “Like it or not, you’re a star, Sulley. I used to think you asked for it. Even basked in it. That was why I hated you.”
“You hated me?” I joke. I’m more than aware she wasn’t my biggest fan.
“Before I spent time with you? Yes. As I’ve gotten to know you, I’ve quickly learned that it’s not the case. You don’t want or ask for this attention. You’re just out there hooping. But you’re taking our sport to the next level. I know it’s a big weight to bear, and you always do it with grace and humility. I admire you for it. Your boyfriend should too. His ego shouldn’t get in the way of anything.”
She gives me a knowing look. She’s right about Shane. Sometimes I feel like I have to hide things from him because he’ll get upset if things are going too well for me.
As for naked pictures, those are off the table.
I look up at her. “Thanks, friend.”
She winks. “Anytime, frenemy.”
A few hours later,we’re in the fourth quarter of our game. The other team is being particularly physical with me tonight. I’ve taken a lot of elbows and hard body checking. The refs seem to be keeping their whistles in their pockets.
I do have my new bodyguard, though. Kennedy should havebeen a hockey player or a defensive lineman. She’s giving it right back to them tenfold.
I pop in a fadeaway jumper over the woman who’s been the biggest culprit in pushing me around all night, Diane Garma. I know her well. She was a year ahead of me in college, and we played in the same conference, meaning I played against her a few times each year. She’s always been overly physical with me. She was the first pick in last year’s draft. I know there were a lot of comments made at the time that if I hadn’t sat out that first year of college, I would have been the first pick last year instead of her. I’m sure she just has an axe to grind, but she’s a little out of control right now.
Kennedy isn’t having any of it. She’s right in Diane’s face after my shot goes in. “Five fucking years, Diane. You haven’t been able to defend her for five years. Stop trying.”
Diane mumbles, “Fuck you, Kennedy. Must be nice to ride her coattails.”
“Better to grab onto her coattails with my hands than how you get through life on your knees.” Kennedy backpedals but still manages to reach and wipe Diane’s chin. “You’ve got a little something on you, D. Leftovers from your afternoon with the team owners? Maybe the referees too?”
I can’t help but smile as I run back to get on defense. Kennedy winks at me with a small smirk on her face. Damn, I’m glad she’s onmyteam.
Diane smacks Kennedy’s hand away. Hard. The ref then blows his whistle, calling a foul on her.
Kennedy blows on her nails like it’s all in a day’s work. I notice all the Camels guys sitting courtside laughing. I think they’re wildly amused by the fact that women trash-talk too, and none are better at it than Kennedy Jeffries.
The cameras love to find the guys. Beer drinking contests among Camels players at our games have become the normal courtside entertainment for everyone. I swear, Beau and Daylen make it seem like one gulp. I don’t know how they do it.
It’s always on ESPN at night. It’s only bringing more attention to us. Attendance and television viewership are way up. Life is good.
VANCE
I’ve loved having Sulley living with me. I think she’s starting to thaw toward me a bit. I’ve tried to be respectful and stay out of her way, but I also stocked my fridge with all the things I remember her liking. She noticed and was grateful.
They’re only a few days away from moving into their new place, and I’m about to leave town for our last preseason game before our season officially begins.
While we’ve been super busy, we’re both free later this afternoon, and I told her I wanted to show her something. She skeptically agreed.
This morning I’m in the film room with my team. We’re watching game tape on our opponents, something we always do leading up to games.
We’re reviewing our upcoming opponent’s defensive coverage when Presley turns and asks me, “Have you seen the movieMarley and Me?”
“About the dog?”
He nods. “Yes.”
“I’ve seen it. That’s a good movie.”
He agrees, “It is. We watched it recently. Layla cried like a baby when they put the dog down.”
I shrug. “So? What’s wrong with that?” I think I cried at the end of that movie too. It was so sad when they had to put him down.
He sighs. “She usually watches true crime documentaries on Netflix. Some deranged serial killer who has murderedthirty people; she doesn’t cry over that. But a fake dog in a movie?Thatmakes her cry?”
