Page 2 of Bad Habit
“Because you’re a decent guy.”
“Where’d you get that idea?” Isaiah said, but his position was softening. His shoulders relaxed, and the vein over his temple stopped pulsing. Using the bottom of his shirt, he wiped sweat from his brow.
“Do this for me?” I asked, then added, “Hey!” as if I’d just thought of something. “You and Angie need a new TV?”
“What?”
“New TV. Top of the line. Latest model straight from Korea. I meant to say something earlier. Me and my brothers, we imported some, and the supplier shipped extras. Want one?”
Isaiah frowned, but his eyes showed interest. “How much?”
“It’s a gift.”
“Bullshit.”
“No, really. We’ve got extras. Consider it a housewarming gift. How’s the new place working out, anyway?” I clapped him on the arm. “You ever going to have me over?”
Isaiah shifted his weight. “New place is great. Angie fixed it up nice. A decent TV would be… Does it connect to Wi-Fi?”
“You bet.”
“Stolen?”
“What?”
He raised his hands. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.”
“Just tell me when to drop it off.” I glanced around.
Manny was talking to Alessia, and Justin was taking shots.
“How about tonight?” Isaiah said. “Angie’s working the late shift at the hospital. I could thaw a couple of steaks.”
“I’ll take the steak.” I smiled. “But the TVs don’t arrive for a couple of weeks.”
Isaiah shook his head.
“No bullshit,” I assured him. “As soon as I get notice they’ve cleared customs, you’ll be the first to know.”
“Customs. Right. Sure, Mac. Whatever. Again… I do not want to know.” Isaiah’s smart watch lit up with a notification. “Shit. Gotta go.” He strode toward the gate, then turned back toward the other men. “Let’s settle this on Sunday?”
“Sunday works.” Justin took a jump shot, missing the basket by a foot.
“Manny?” Isaiah called out.
“Que?” Manny turned from his girl.
“Sunday? Four o’clock?”
“Sure.” Manny nodded. “Sounds good.”
More than a little pleased with myself, I raced toward the net to snag Justin’s next rebound.
Our game of two-on-two might be over, but I was glad I’d stopped my friends’ fight. Just like I always did with my brothers. Most of the time. Okay, at least when I wasn’t part of the fight.
I went up for a jump shot, but Justin slapped the ball from my hands, and then the two of us continued a loose pickup game until we were both drenched in sweat and Manny and Alessia had taken off.
“Wanna keep score?” I asked Justin. “A game of horse?”
