New Release and Giveaway: Teardrop Shot by Tijan

READ AT YOUR OWN RISK! IT IS NOT EDITED. You’ve been warned. 😉

There was Garth Carzoni.
I almost fell down into the dishwasher.
I should stop gawking, but I couldn’t.
Terry Bartlonguesen.
I made a weird sounding gurgle. It started as a sigh, but I caught myself and barked out an alien something again. I wasn’t sure myself what it was.
He’d been traded the last year to help–I couldn’t breathe. Literally. My heart stopped working as he leaned over and whispered something to Matthew Crusky.
Matthew Crusky, everyone! The Cruskinator. The Cruskimachine.
Double-down on the weird alien sigh.
I sagged again, but grabbed for the sink and caught myself.
Right.
Look away. Brain walls. Brain walls. They needed to be erect.
Firm.
Standing upright and ready.
I felt my knees going.
I couldn’t stop myself.
I went back to my stalker/gawking mode.
Beau Michems.
Crowd surges to their feet and makes a standing ovation. Ahhhh. Ahhhhh.
And he was sitting next to Juan Cartion.
Juan Cartion. Juan the Speedster Cartion! His other nickname was the Chia Pet because his hair would frizz up during every game. The announcers loved teasing him about it. He wasn’t the Chia Pet here, though. His hair was slicked down and combed to the side. He was the shooting guard, and–I was about to embark into Pure Insanity Mode so I had to guard myself, ram up the shields–he was Reese Forster’s best friend.
My mouth dried up, just thinking of him, thinking his best friend was in that room. His best friend was twenty feet from me.
Me. From me!
“Settle down, Cherry Popper.”
“Cherry Popper?” I turned around, and raised an eyebrow. “Are you using reverse psychology on me? Hoping I’ll want to pop your cherry.”
Trent laughed. “I was hoping for projection. I’m projecting my fantasies onto you.”
I snorted. “Hate to break it to you, but my cherry was popped long agooo…oo…oh shit.” My boss was standing on the other side of the dish window, a scowl on his face.
The dirty bastard was going to take it and run. I knew how he worked–
He just shook his head, and sighed. “Trent, we’re going to start.”
Damn. He was all business. I was slightly disappointed… slightly. I didn’t want to get ahead of myself.
I couldn’t help myself. “Hey, Keith?”
He started to head for the doorway, but paused and looked back.
I deadpanned, “If you were five years old right now, in that body, what’s the first thing you’d do?”
“Keep it up, Manning. We have other alumni staff we can call.” He started back.
“Oh yeah? How many of them can ask you–” A hand clapped around my mouth.
Trent spoke over my head, “Keep walking, Boss. I got her handled.”
No one handled me.
Well, except that Trent did just now and that I needed it.
I gulped down some oxygen once he lifted his hand and sagged forward. “Thank you. I almost lost a second job just there.”
He moved back, but his chuckle was strained. “I gotta go, but you need to get yourself in check. I mean it. I have to leave tomorrow for another speaking event, and I won’t be back for another week and a half. You going to be okay till then?”
I nodded.
Once the camp weeks started, it wouldn’t be hard to avoid Keith. He tended to only show up for meals, for the evening meetings if there were any, and that was it. He’d stay in the office after that, so as long as he wasn’t poking his nose in the gym courts, I would be fine. I could do the dishes and that’d squirrel me away a plate of food so I didn’t actually have to see Keith then.
Trent said to Hadley, who was walking by him at that second, “You’ll help reign her in if she needs it?”
Hadley threw him a smile over  her shoulder, not stopping. She went out, picked up a steamer and brought it back in. She said as she passed by again, “No problem, though I’ve always enjoyed Charlie’s feisty side.”
I bit back a laugh. She liked to egg it on.
“For some reason, I’m not reassured.”
I slapped him on the arm. “Get on. I’ll be fine. And if anything else, I’ll whisper my random questions.”
He gave me a dry look. “Right. Because that’s not creepy.”
I shrugged, going back to the dishes.
The players had started to migrate out the doors, leaving all their dishes on the table.
Normal camps had a process where they were told how to collect plates on one tray, silverware on another, trash etc. Adult camps were just told to take their dishes to the dish window, but these guys were none of those. I wasn’t surprised to see not one of them brought their stuff to the window. That meant an added thirty minutes to the clean-up, just collecting everything. But as I was thinking it, Owen was whipping through with a cart.
I guess if they couldn’t bring the dishes to the window, Owen was bringing the window to their dishes? He had a soaking tub on there for the silverware even.
“Okay. I’m going to go.” Trent still lingered. “You haven’t asked about your baller crush.”
Hyperventilating.
Then I heard Trent say, “He’s not here. He’s coming tomorrow.”
Oh good God.

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