Hooped #3 (The Hooped Interracial Romance Series, Book #3) Read Free Page B

you’re not doing
anything right now…feel like coming to watch me practice? You could give coach a few of those pointers you gave me last
night. I laughed, rolling my eyes; the last person I’d give advice to on
coaching would be the coach himself.
    I closed my books; I didn’t have a class for hours, and I definitely wanted to see
Devon again, even if it was just from the bleachers while he practiced. I’d love to watch you get all sweaty. Be
right there. I grabbed my purse and made sure that I had my keys and my
phone; I changed into new clothes—no sense walking around in the ones I’d worn
last night for any longer than necessary. I closed the door to my side of the
dorm hard, enough for Kelly to hear me leaving; but she stayed in her room, and
I decided that if she was going to keep ignoring me, that I would just return
the favor.
    I made it to the court just as the team was finishing
up their warm-up, finding a good spot in the bleachers and settling myself
there. There were a few other girls from campus watching; most of them were
girlfriends of different members of the team, but there were some obvious fangirls too, just hanging out to watch and
giggle. Devon looked out over the bleachers as he went in for drills; he caught
my eye and grinned, and in spite of the fact that I was still feeling guilty
and confused about how things had gone earlier in the morning, I felt my heart
skip a beat.
    I tried to focus on watching the practice, listening
to the coach call out orders and tweaks and critiques, but I couldn’t keep
myself from thinking about Kelly and the whole stupid confrontation we’d both
been through. She had said that Devon had picked her name to give me because he
knew that I’d take his side instead of hers. I felt my cheeks burning as I
remembered what she said about the fact that I’d lost my virginity to Devon and
how it was making me crazy.
    I cheered Devon on, trying to find the balance between
just sitting there staring at him and looking like a crazy fan-girl, smiling
back at him every time he glanced in my direction, watching his flashy moves as
he went up against the best players on his team. I had to admit to myself that
even with the flashiness, there was no one who could say that Devon wasn’t a
really phenomenal player; it wasn’t just that he was visible. I could tell that
he practically breathed basketball. He was light on his feet, quick to move
through any little hole the defense created, and he made shots as if he didn’t
even think about it—and sank them. Whether he was working with or against Miles
in the drills, he was a standout player.
    Even though I was cheering and doing my best to pay
complete attention, though, my mind kept going back to Kelly. Why hadn’t she
just admitted it? If she really valued our friendship and wanted to continue to
be close, it wouldn’t make any sense to keep up her story. It wouldn’t make
sense to make me choose between her and Devon. Devon had seemed so sincere when
he’d explained what had happened, when he
confessed to me about his previous playboy ways; why should I doubt him when he
gave me the name of the girl? But by the same token, Kelly had proven herself
over years of being my friend to be someone I could trust. If she was telling
me the truth, then I owed her the apology to beat all apologies—but if she was
lying, and Devon was telling the truth, how could I ever trust her again,
knowing that she was just trying to drive a wedge between Devon and me? It
seemed like one or the other of the two
other people in the situation were trying to drive me away from the other—and I
had no idea for sure who was the guilty one.
    The end of practice nearly took me by surprise; I was
so lost in thought that I didn’t know it was ending until the shrill, sharp
whistle cut through my mind. I came down from the bleachers, grinning in spite
of my anger and confusion, hoping against hope that I’d be able to get a minute
with Devon before