Page 72 of What I Needed

“With everything you shared, I forgot to give you my condolences. I’m very sorry for your loss.”

“So am I. Thank you.”

The elevator doors opened, and we stepped into the lobby. As soon as we turned the corner, cameras flashed, and paparazzi swarmed in our direction.

“Oh shit!” I shouted.

“He should be home by now,” I told Shakira.

“Maybe something happened at the arena, and they had to stay longer.”

“Then he should’ve sent a text.”

“True, but men are stupid. It probably didn’t cross his mind.”

“Why are you defending him? Not too long ago, you were ready to let him have it.”

“I’ve calmed down and realized it’s not my place. He’s your man, not mine, and I’m sure you’ll let him know what’s good. This will be his one and only pass from me, though.”

I’d been home for two hours and expected River to be here at least thirty minutes ago. I hadn’t called or texted him because I assumed whatever was keeping him was a part of his job, and I didn’t want to be that girlfriend.

“At this point, I’m not even sure I should’ve been mad at him because of those bitches.”

“They were some hating-ass, disrespectful bitches, who thought River was still for the streets and were mad that you were there.”

As soon as Shakira and I entered the suite, we felt a chill, and the energy in the room shifted. We politely spoke to everyone, but there was a group of women with mean-girl energy. Of course, we ignored them, but they wanted our attention.

Ultimately, we found out that some of them had come with the players’ wives or girlfriends, hoping to hook up with the single players. River and Jaxon were high on their list, so they were disappointed to see us.

Shakira and Jaxon were cool, but as of now, nothing had happened between them. We’d run into him on the way to the suite, and the ladies had seen them talking, so they assumed she was there for him. While I ignored them, Shakira didn’t hold her tongue or mince her words.

“They weren’t too happy about you being there, either, because they thought you came for Jaxon.”

“I don’t care what those hos thought. They had no right to be rude, and I couldn’t stop myself from letting them know.”

“Maybe if I didn’t have Rivvy, my reaction would’ve been different, but that’s a big maybe. I have no intention of arguing with random-ass women over River, in person or online.”

“Oh shit. Speaking of online. I think I know where River might be.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Go to Keeping It in the Closet.”

“Oh my God. I’m so sick of that gossiping ass page.”

I opened the Flikstagram app and put the name of the blog in the search bar. The last thing they posted was a picture of a man with one arm around a woman and the other blocking his face. When I looked a little closer, I realized the man was River.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I said, more to myself than Shakira.

“Don’t jump to conclusions. There could be a perfectly reasonable explanation.”

@KIITC: Well, well, well. We can always count on @rivwest33 to give us some hot tea. He’s been keeping a low profile for a few weeks and has only been spotted with the unknown redheaded beauty. We were hopeful that she’d stolen his heart, but Mr. Westmore ain’t loyal to nothing but the streets. Here he is, just hours after earning a victory in their season home opener, seen leaving his condo with a gorgeous, curly-haired, brown-skinned beauty. I guess the redhead’s time is up.

“They say a tiger never changes its stripes. Why did I think this man would change?”

“Sis, you should⁠—”

“No, Kira. I shouldn’t do anything but remember the man I’m dealing with. He said he would try, but the season has barely started, and he’s back to his old ways.”