Page 19 of Slam Dunk
“Holy hell.” Quince stepped inside. He was completely speechless. Once he moved far enough into the room, he realized there were boxes of shit piled on the floor on the other side of the kitchen island.
“Surely, Jayda had it worse.”
Quince shook his head as he moved to eye all the flowers and cards. “I never saw her deal with her mail. She hired a company to answer everything. I doubt she saw a single thing anyone sent.”
“That’s kind of shitty. Then again, I can’t imagine how much stuff she must’ve received. I was a kid when she died, so I don’t know much about her.”
Quince groaned. “I’ve never felt so old.”
Jathan flashed him an evil grin as he moved to the counter and began opening cards on the flowers. “People spend their time and money on this stuff. The least I can do is take a look. Ilet management send people the thank-you notes and whatnot, though. I don’t have that kind of time.”
He fascinated the fuck out of Quince. It was no wonder someone hardcore stalked him. He was too nice for his own good. Still, Quince couldn’t resist this peek inside a famous athlete’s life. Jayda’s life had been totally different. She had been on twenty/four-seven. A camera had always been in her face. Jathan’s was a different shade of fame. “What do you do with all of this?”
Jathan shrugged. “I have a gift room upstairs. When it gets out of control, someone on my management team arranges to have everything donated to charity.”
“You really have like an entire management team, don’t you?”
Jathan met his stare, looking confused by the question. “Doesn’t Tip?”
Quince shrugged. “I run his ranch and keep his land safe. That’s all he hired me to do. I don’t get into his business.”
Jathan went back to looking at his letters. “Oh. That’s cute.” He held a crayon drawing. It was obviously supposed to be Jathan.
A smile snapped to Quince’s lips. “Adorable.” A thought occurred to him when he noticed—oddly—one gift was a toaster. It had the team logo on it, but still. “Hey. Do people do that shit where they send you wedding invitations just to see if you’ll send a gift?”
Jathan laughed. “Yeah. I send them a letter of apology for missing their wedding, along with a signed basketball card.”
Quince shook his head. “All this and you still don’t realize you need security.”
Jathan made a dismissive gesture. “You’ve been out with me. People don’t usually bother me. If they do, it’s asking for a selfie, and they’re always super nice about it. I think most people don’t want to look like a psycho fan.” A bright smile lit his face. “I saw Lady Gaga one time at a party. Never in my life have I wanted to make a fool of myself like I did that night. I didn’t bother her, though. She’s allowed to have some peace.”
Quince shook his head. He couldn’t imagine what it looked like inside Jathan’s head. The guy really was all sunshine, rainbows, and kindness.
“I’ve never felt so lucky to know someone in all my life, and that has nothing to do with your job. You’re easily the greatest person I’ve ever met.”
Jathan looked confused but moved. He closed the gap between them. Jathan crowded his space and wrapped his arms around Quince’s neck. His lips skimmed Quince’s. “That sounds like some shit a guy trying to get in my pants would say.”
A growl escaped Quince. He slapped Jathan’s ass. “Don’t toy with me.”
With a laugh, Jathan took a step back. “We have an hour before we have to leave. Do you want to go through all this stuff with me? If you see anything you want, you can have it.”
Quince didn’t hesitate. “Sounds fun.” It genuinely did. The nosey side of him had to know what sort of things people sent their favorite basketball player. The rest of Quince just wanted to be in Jathan’s company. It didn’t matter what they did. They were together. He felt like he had waited his entire life for this.
If this motherfucker didn’t stop checking Jathan in the ribs, Jathan was about to get tossed from this game. His rage level was through the roof. It was only matched by his pain. Goddamn. Sometimes a season could be long as hell. Then the clouds parted. Angels sang. Jathan smirked. He saw his chance. In a quick move, he shifted just enough to goad the guy into another sharp elbow to the ribs. This time, Jathan had seen the ref’s eyes on them.
The whistle blew. “That’s two.”
Jathan shot the guy a shit-eating grin. Free throws were like child’s play to him. All net. Zero interferences. Swoosh. Both shots made.
“Yeah. Keep that shit up, motherfucker. I can make those all night.”
Just another game. That was all Jathan kept telling himself until that final buzzer sounded. Then, an explosion of sound loud enough to nearly deafen him blasted through the air. Several violent hugs, lifting him from his feet, might have had him crying out in pain if not for the adrenaline. Jathan’s gaze automatically swept toward the place where his mom and Quince should be and he was there, carried straight to Jathan with the flood of the crowd on to the floor. His huge smile made everything perfect. Still, he let Jathan’s mom launch herself at him first. She had never cared how sweaty he was.
“Oh my, God! You did it!” The screeching mixed with everyone else’s. He felt like the room was spinning with so much happening around him. People were being ushered off the court. Media was everywhere. He was overwhelmed as hell until Quince’s arms wrapped around him. His mind went quiet. All he heard was Quince’s voice against his ear.
“I’m so proud of you. If you don’t get them ribs X-rayed, I’m going to put you over my knee.”
A laugh burst from Jathan.
