Page 4 of The Brooklyn Way

I wondered if he was trying to convince me or himself that it was okay that his new woman consulted her ex about the next steps of their relationship.

“But you’ve been getting all of those boxes for packing.” My comment sounded stupid, even to my own ears, but I was confused and so thoroughly disappointed.

“Yeah, I know. Her ex feels like it’s too soon. He doesn’t want the kids to be confused—”

I didn’t mean to comment. I really didn’t. I meant to think my thoughts in the privacy of my own mind, but apparently, my mouth didn’t get the memo. I said exactly what popped into my head. “And the kids aren’t confused about the fact that the ex-husband sleeps there, with her, every night… while you sleep… here?”

He gave me a murderous glare, and I vowed to keep any other thoughts about their relationship to myself. I didn’t know Vince. I used to know him. And when I knew him, he wasn’t the type of guy who would throw me to the side for some chick who was obviously stringing him along while she still played house with her ex-husband.

This new Vince was different. He was on something totally different than the Vince I knew. This Vince might buck up and choke me or beat my ass for putting doubt in his mind about where he stood with his woman. And as I’d already established, I didn’t really know anyone in town. My grandparents lived over two hours away. If Vince got loose and killed me, who would know? I vowed to shut up.

“Sorry,” I mumbled. “Please, continue.”

“Don’t speak on my relationship, bro. You don’t know shit about it.” The angry glare remained plastered to his otherwise handsome features.

“You’re right.” I agreed, wishing that I had kept my thoughts to myself.

“Anyway, because of that, when the lease is up… I won’t be moving out as planned. I’ll be renewing it on a month-by-month basis.”

“So, you’ll keep living here? With me? As roommates?” I clarified.

“Or you can move out.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I’m just giving you the respect to let you know what’s up. You thought you were about to have a bachelorette pad, but you’re not. This will still be my place of residence.”

There were so many things that I wanted to say. So many protests raging in my mind. So many rebuttals. But the look on Vince’s face, the glint in his eyes caused me to keep my displeasure to myself.

I allowed one utterance and one utterance only to slip from my lips as I turned on my heel and walked back to my bedroom. “Uhm.”

I hate it here!

Prologue

Then

Cameron

Yawning, I stretched my body. My back arched while I practically went up on my tiptoes to get it all out. I was tired as hell. Not sleepy… tired. Tired, tired.

Exhausted.

Spent.

Done.

“It’s the day after. How’re you feeling, son?” My mom took me in from where she stood, bathed in sunlight from the floor-to-ceiling windows in my kitchen. She watched me carefully.

She, my dad, and my twin sister had come up from South Carolina to watch me play in the NBA championships, as they had for the last six seasons.

It was less than twelve hours since my team, The Chicago Bison, won our fifth championship in six years. And if I was being honest, which I was known to do, I would have to admit that winning this last one was more of a relief than anything. This time around, I was just glad that we won and wouldn’t have to play a game seven.

Winning the first, second, third and fourth championships had left me with feelings of euphoria and excitement. The time around… not so much.

My body ached after having been put through the paces. My brain was fried. My mental strength had been tested and tested some more. My emotions had fluctuated between extreme highs and more extreme lows. I couldn’t remember when I’d been happier to see a basketball season come to an end.

“I’m tired, Mom. I’m tired as hell.”

“Language, Cameron.” She eyed me sternly.

Ignoring her admonishment, I continued. “Winning the championship after losing it last season ain’t no punk. Every team we played came gunning for us like we owed them money.”