Page 100 of The Hot Shot
I call Jake, who informs me that Dex, Rolondo, and one of the tight ends, North, will be joining us. Oh, and we’ll be eating at Rolondo’s house. I really don’t care what we do as long as I’m out.
Like me, Rolondo lives in a condo. His is in the CentralBusiness District. Located on the fifteenth floor, the place looks like something straight out of Versailles with French-style woodwork painted pale gray, mirrored walls, and ornate crystal chandeliers.
“Jesus, Ro,” I say as he leads me into a white kitchen with black-and-white checker pattern floors. “I feel as though I should have dressed for the occasion.”
Dex is leaning against a counter and drinking a beer. “Londo has always been particular about his place. By ‘particular,’ I mean fussy as all hell.”
“A man’s home is his castle,” Rolondo intones.
I accept the beer Rolondo hands me. “I don’t think you’re supposed to take that literally.”
Dex snickers just as the doorbell rings again.
“Jealous bitches,” Rolondo says before he goes to answer the door. But his voice echoes in the hall. “You keep it up and see if I share my ribs.”
“Shit,” Dex mutters. “That’s his mom’s recipe. You don’t want to miss out on those ribs.”
I don’t doubt that. The kitchen is fragrant with the scent of slow-roasted meat and spices. My mouth waters a little.
It’s weird. I’m almost at a loss of how to act. Jake and I are tight, but I haven’t hung out socially with the others very much. Dex is stiff too, clutching his beer like he wants to crush the bottle.
I don’t know him well enough to be certain, but he seems low. Given that there’s a bounty on his virginity, and the press has been hounding him, I’d say he has a right to be. Funny thing is, I know without a doubt that the big guy is not a virgin. Not after the way he talked about his woman’s panties.
It pisses me off the way the press has been treating him. To make matters worse with Dex, someone stole his phone and put nude pictures of his girl up on social media. When I think about someone doing that to Chess, the level of rage I feel scares me. I don’t know how he deals with it.
In the hall, I hear Jake blabbing about something and North’s voice joining in.
Rolondo leads Jake and North into the kitchen.
“Shit, it’s like a wake in here.” Jake glares around. “You two fighting or something?”
Dex straightens, his brows lifting. “No. The fuck, Ryder?”
“Don’t listen to him,” I tell Dex. “He lives for drama.”
“Nope. I just happen to have four—”
“Sisters,” we all say as one.
“We know,” I add with an eye roll. “We all know.”
Jake wrenches a beer out of the fridge and snicks the cap off, glowering. “I do not repeat myself that often.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” Rolondo mutters as he checks on something in the oven.
“Fuck,” North leans in. “Is that macaroni and cheese?”
“And cornbread,” Rolondo adds.
“I’m hanging at your house more often.” North is new, having signed at the beginning of this season. The lucky bastard was a free agent at the time and a superstar. Since our team was desperate for a good tight end, he basically got to write his paycheck.
Then he promptly got hurt and has only just gotten back to being healthy.
Something we all need, since he’s capable of making great plays.
Rolondo goes about finishing dinner, ordering Dex to get the plates since he’s been here often, Jake to cut the cornbread, and for me and North to get the hell out of the way.
“Why do they get special treatment?” Jake grouses.
