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š Synopsis š
A FORBIDDEN LOVE SET IN THE EXPLOSIVE WORLD OF THE NBAā¦
Think you know what itās like being a ballerās girl?
You donāt.
My fairy tale is upside down.
A happily never after.
I kissed the prince and he turned into a fraud.
I was a fool, and his love ā foolās gold.
Now thereās a new player in the game, August West.
One of the NBAās brightest stars.
Fine. Forbidden.
He wants me. I want him.
But my past, my fraudulent prince, just wonāt let me go.
š Chapter 1 ā August š
Tomorrow is my fatherās birthday.
Or it would have been. He died fifteen years ago when I was six, but in the biggest moments, the ones that count the most, it feels like heās with me. And on the eve of the biggest night of my life, I hope he can see me. I hope heās proud.
Tomorrowās the most monumental game of my life. By all rights, my ass should be safely tucked away in my hotel room, not out killing time at some dive. I toss back a handful of bar nuts and sip my ginger ale. At the table next to me, they just ordered another round of beers. God, what I wouldnāt give for something strong enough to unwind these pre-game jitters, but I never drink before a game. And tomorrow isnāt just any game.
I glance at my watch. Fifteen minutes late? Thatās not Coach Kirby. Heās the promptest man I know. His name flashes across my screen just as Iām considering calling him. I push away the bowl of nuts and the niggling feeling that something must be wrong.
āHey, Coach.ā
āWest, hey.ā His voice carries a forced calm that only confirms somethingās off. āI know Iām late. Sorry.ā
āNo, itās cool. Everything okay?ā
āItās Delores.ā His voice cracks over his wifeās name. Basketball is my high school coachās second love. From the day I met him my freshman year at St. Josephās Prep, I knew Delores was his first.
āShe okay?ā
āShe . . . well, we were at the hotel, and she started having chest pains and trouble breathing.ā Coachās worried sigh comes from the other end. āWeāre here at the emergency room. Theyāre running all these damn tests, andāā
āWhich hospital?ā Iām already on my feet, digging out my wallet to pay the modest bill. āIām on my way.ā
āThe hell you are.ā The steel that worked all the laziness out of me for four years stiffens his tone. āYouāre playing tomorrow night in the National Championship. The last place you need to be is in some hospital waiting room.ā
āBut, Deloresāā
āIs my responsibility, and Iām handling it.ā
āBut, I canāā
āYour folks get into town yet?ā He steamrolls over my protest to close the subject.
āNo, sir.ā I pause, checking my exasperation. āMatt had to work today. He and my mom are flying in tomorrow.ā
āAnd your stepbrother?ā
āHeās stuck in Germany. Some event for one of his clients.ā My stepbrother and I may not share blood, but we share a love for sports. Me, on the court. Him, off, as an agent.
āSorry he wonāt be there,ā Coach says. āI know how close you two are.ā
āItās alright.ā I play off my disappointment. āIāve got my mom and Matt. And you, of course.ā
āSorry I canāt make it to the bar, though why your ass wanted to go out the night before the big dance in the first place is beyond me.ā
āI know, Coach. I just needed . . .ā What do I need? I know the playbook inside and out and have watched so much film my eyes started crossing.
Iām restless tonight. Years of sacrifice, mine and my familyās, have gotten me here. And I couldnāt have done it without the man on the other end of the line. Coach has invested a lot in me over the last eight years, even after I graduated high school and moved on to college. When scouts and analysts urged me to go pro a year early, he convinced me to stay and finish my degree. To shore up my fundamentals and mature before going to the draft. But the man who passed his DNA on to meāhis wingspan, his big hands, his long, lean body, and I guess even his love for the gameāis the one I keep thinking about tonight.
My father.
I wasnāt sure who this moment should be shared with, but I knew it wasnāt my teammates trolling for girls in some rowdy bar. Even though they can only get so rowdy the night before a game, that didnāt appeal to me.
āWhatever you need, get it, and get out of there,ā Coach says, snapping me back into the moment. āGet your ass back to the hotel. Mannard will bench you for breaking curfew, even before the National Championship. Donāt get too big for your breeches.ā
āYes, sir. I know.ā
Between Coachās take-no-shit leadership and my stepfatherās military background, the sirs and maāams come naturally. Discipline and respect were non-negotiable in both their regimes.
āI need to go,ā Coach says. āDoctorās coming.ā
āKeep me posted.ā
āI will.ā He pauses for a moment before continuing. āYou know Iāll be at the game tomorrow if thereās any way itās humanly possible. I just need to make sure Delores is okay. Sheās the only reason I would miss it. Iām proud of you, West.ā
āI know. Thanks, Coach.ā Emotion scorches my throat, and I struggle to hold my shit together. My dadās birthday, the pressure of tomorrowās game, and now Delores in the hospitalāIām staggering under the cumulative weight of this day, of all these things, but I make sure none of it makes it into my voice when I speak again. Coachās got enough to worry about without thinking Iām not ready for tomorrow. āDo whatever you need to. Delores comes first.ā
āI hope to see you tomorrow,ā he continues gruffly. āYou shoot the damn lights out of that place.ā
āYes, sir. I plan to. Call me when you know something.ā
I donāt even bother finding the server or asking for the check. Instead, I leave a twenty on the table, more than enough to cover my tepid ginger ale. I have another few hours to kill before curfew, but if Coach isnāt coming to ease my nerves, then I may as well head back to the hotel. Iāll try to slip in without running into my teammates.
Iām almost at the door when an outburst from the far end of the bar stops me.
āBullshit!ā a husky, feminine voice booms. āYou know good and damn well thatās a shit call.ā
Just shy of the threshold, I turn to see the woman whoās cussing like a sailor. Curves punctuate her lean, tight body: the indentation of her waist in a fitted T-shirt, the rounded hips poured into her jeans. She jumps from her stool and leans forward, her body taut with outrage, her fists balled on the bar, and her eyes narrowed at the flat screen. She must be a good seven inches over five feet. A guy my height gets used to towering over everyone else, but I like a woman with a little height. Her hair, dark and dense as midnight, is an adventure, roaming wild and untamed around her face in every direction, drifting past her shoulders. She looks pissed, her wide, full mouth tight, and the sleek line of her jaw bunched.
The beautiful face paired with all that attitude has me intrigued. Even if Iām not getting laid tonight, I can at least get distracted from the pressure thatās been crushing me all day. Hell, crushing me for the last few weeks, if Iām honest. I want to shake off the melancholy thoughts my fatherās death always wrap around meāthoughts of what we missed. What we lost. Seeing her all fired up and cussing at the television, swearing at the refs, lightens some of the load Iāve been carrying. I find myself walking straight toward the one thing that has penetrated the thick wall of tension surrounding me since we advanced to the NCAA championship a few days ago.
āAsshole,ā she mutters, settling her denim-clad ass back onto the barstool. āNo way that was a flagrant foul.ā
I take the empty stool beside her, glancing up at the screen replaying the last sequence. āActually, Iām pretty sure that was a flagrant foul.ā I grab a fistful of nuts from the bowl between us.
āYouāre either as blind and dumb as the ref,ā she says, eyes never leaving the screen, āor youāre trying to pick me up. Either way, Iām not impressed.ā
My handful of nuts freezes halfway to my mouth. I have a shot at college player of the year, have been big man on campus for four years, and was on ESPNās Plays of the Week by tenth grade. No girl has shot me down since middle school, but I never shy away from a challenge.
āJust making conversation.ā I shrug and swing my knees around to face her. āThough if you want to be picked up, I might be able to accommodate.ā
She finally deigns to look at me. Her heart-shaped face is arresting, a contrast of fierce and delicate. She has high cheekbones and dark brows that slash over a button nose and hazel eyes. Hazel is too flat a word to describe all the shades of green and brown and gold. Iāve never seen eyes quite like these. Several colors at once. Several things at once. I wonder if the girl behind them is as multi-dimensional.
āI wouldnāt want to wear you out before your big game tomorrow.ā The corners of her lips pinch like sheās trying her best not to laugh at me.
That gives me pause. So she knows who I am. That would usually work in my favor, but I have a feeling sheās not your run-of-the-mill ball groupie. āYouāre a fan?ā
Unsurprisingly, one brow crooks, and she rolls her eyes before turning her attention back to the game. The bartender approaches, a bottle of liquor in hand.
āWhatāll ya have?ā He sets the Grey Goose on the bar, toggling a speculative glance between me and the woman ignoring me.
āCould I get a ginger ale, please?ā
He smirks, trading out the Goose for a ginger ale he pulls from the fridge under the bar. Filling a glass with the fizzy drink and setting it in front of me, he angles his head to peer under the brim pulled low over my brow.
āAugust West?ā A grin lights his face.
I nod but put my finger to my lips, hoping to quiet him so I can flirt in peace. I donāt feel like signing autographs and being pelted with well wishes. Iām not even in the NBA yet, but ever since our team made the Sweet Sixteen, the media has homed in on me for some reason, elevating my profile and making it harder to remain anonymous.
āI get it.ā The bartender nods knowingly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. āAvoiding the crazy, huh?ā
āSomething like that.ā I look back to the super fangirl, whose attention remains riveted on the screen. āWhatās the lady having?ā
āA beer she can pay for herself.ā She slides me a crooked smile and takes a sip of her half-full glass.
āOooooh.ā The bartenderās beer belly, an occupational hazard, shakes with a deep chuckle. He gives me a commiserating look before ambling down the length of the bar to his other customers.
āSo, you come here often?ā I canāt believe that just came out of my mouth.
The face she makes says she canāt believe it either.
āNext youāll ask whatās a nice girl like me doing in a place like this.ā The humor in her eyes removes some of the sting.
āYou think my game is that weak?ā
She side-eyes me, extending both brows as high as theyāll go. āWe talking on the court or off?ā
āOuch.ā I wince and tilt my head to consider her. āAnd here I thought youād be a sweet distraction until curfew.ā
āIām not anyoneās distraction,ā she says. āEspecially not some player looking to let off testosterone.ā
āAssumptions and judgments.ā I shake my head in mock disappointment. āDidnāt they tell you not to judge a book by its cover? You canāt possibly knowāā
āAugust West, six-foot-six, Piermont College starting point guard, deadly from behind the arc, off-the-charts basketball IQ, and Naismith finalist. Six-foot-ten-inch wingspan and forty-inch vertical.ā Her sharp eyes slice over me from the brim of my cap all the way down to the Nikes on my feet, before returning to the game onscreen.
āYour hops may be Jordan-esque, but your D could use some work.ā A laugh slips past her lips. āAnd thatās not an assumption. I know that for a fact.ā
I have to laugh because Coach Mannard has been after me all seasonāfor the last four years, actuallyāto improve on defense. My three-pointers make the highlight reel, but heās just as concerned with the fundamentals that will make me a better all-around player. Apparently, so is she.
āSo they keep telling me.ā I turn my back to the bar, propping my elbows on its edge, and consider her with new respect. āHow do you know so much about basketball?ā
āYou mean because Iām a girl and should be watching cheering matches?ā Her glare is all indignation.
āUm . . . you mean tournaments? Even I know theyāre called cheer tournaments, not matches.ā
āWell look at that.ā She spreads a thick layer of sarcasm over the words. āYou know girl stuff and I know boy stuff. Is it opposite day?ā
She turns her attention back to the screen like she couldnāt care less that she just impressed the hell out of me. Guys, we talk shit, and never more so than when itās about sports. A woman who can talk sports and talk trash? A fucking sparkling unicorn. She gives as good as she gets, this one. Hell, she may give better than she gets. Thereās a spark to her, a confidence I want to see more of.
A lot of girls just reflect. They figure out what you like so they can get in with a baller. This one has her own views, stands her own ground and doesnāt give a damn if I like it.
I like it.
āSince you know so much about me,ā I say, āitās only fair I learn something about you.ā
She turns her head by slow centimeters, eyes still locked to the screen as if itās killing her to look away from the game. Her expression, those changeable eyes, warm and soften just a little. āWhat exactly would you like to know?ā
āYour name would be a good start.ā
Her lips twist into a grin. āMy family calls me Gumbo.ā
āGumbo?ā I almost choke on my ginger ale. āBecause you have big ears?ā
I risk touching her, pushing back a clump of wild curls. The whorl of her ear is downright fragile, and strands of dark hair cling to the curve of her neck.
āNot Dumbo.ā She laughs and pulls away so her hair slips through my fingers. āGumbo, like the soup.ā
āI knew that.ā I really did, but I had to get inventive if I was going to steal a touch without drawing back a stump. āSo why Gumbo?ā
She hesitates, and for a moment it seems I wasnāt breaking through like I thought. She finally gives a āwhat the hellā shrug and goes on.
āYou may not hear the accent now, because itās been years since I lived there, but Iām originally from New Orleans.ā
Now that she says it, I do detect something reminiscent of that city in her voice. A drawn-out drawl spiced with music and mystery.
āMy family moved to Atlanta after Katrina.ā She gives a puff of air disguised as a laugh. āBut Iām NOLA, through and through. I come from good Creole stock. As if Creole wasnāt already mixed up enough, my fatherās German and Irish.ā
I think the ambiguity of her beauty is part of her appeal. Something elusive and indefinable. I would never have guessed the ethnicities that coalesced to make a face like hersāthe wide, full lips, copper skin and striking bone structure. I donāt think Iāve ever seen anyone like her. Hers is not a face you would soon forget. Maybe never.
āIām a mix of everything the bayou could come up with,ā she continues, taking a sip of her drink. āSo my cousin says I had more ingredients thanāā
āGumbo,ā I finish with her. We share a smile, and she nods. āSo youāre a mutt like me.ā
āI wasnāt gonna say anything.ā Her eyes run over my face and hair, my looks almost as ambiguous as hers. āBut now that you mention it . . .ā
āLemme show you something.ā I pull out my phone, flipping through the photos until I land on a picture of my family from a camping trip a few years ago. āHere.ā
She takes the phone, her smile fading at the corners. I know what she sees. My mother smiles into the camera, her auburn hair a fiery halo around her pale face in the winter sun. My stepfather and stepbrother stand at her shoulder, both tall blondes.
And then thereās me.
My hair cut close to tame the dark curls that can never decide which way to grow. My skin is the color of aged dark honey, and my eyes are gray as slate. I couldnāt look less like a part of the family if I tried.
āOne of these things is not like the others.ā I grin over the rim of my glass, sipping my ginger ale. āI guess Iām gumbo, too.ā
She returns my smile and my phone, but the humor slowly fades from her expression. Curiosity clouds her eyes when she looks back at me, but whatever that question is, sheās not voicing it.
āWhat?ā I finally ask.
āWhat do you mean what?ā
āJust seemed like you wanted to say something.ā
For a second, her face shutters, and I think she wonāt tell me, but she glances up, a smile settling on her lips after a few seconds.
āDid you ever feel like you didnāt quite fit anywhere?ā Her words come so softly, competing with the revelry in the bar. I lean in to hear until our heads almost touch. āI mean, like you were always kind of in between?ā
Her question echoes something I havenāt articulated to many people but often felt. I sometimes felt displaced in my motherās new family. I may not look a lot like my AfricanāAmerican father, but I look nothing like anyone in the family I have left. Most kids were one thing or the other and clumped together based on that. It left me sometimes feeling adrift. Basketballāthat rim, that rockābecame the thing I clung to.
āI think I know what you mean.ā I clear my throat before going on. āMy father died when I was really young, and my mom remarried not too long after. It took me a while to adjust to everything, especially being different when all I wanted was to fit in.ā
āI get that,ā she says.
I shrug and turn down the corners of my mouth.
āThanks to basketball, I started worrying less about fitting in and more about standing out.ā I roll the glass between my palms. āBut even then, yeah, I sometimes felt . . . I donāt know. Displaced.ā
āMe, too. My skin was lighter than just about everyoneās in my neighborhood. My hair was different.ā She shakes her head, the movement stirring the air around us with the scent of her shampoo, some mix of citrus and sweet. āMost girls there assumed I thought I was better than they were, when I would have given anything to look like everyone else. To fit in. I had my cousin Lo for a few years, but besides her, I kind of just had myself.ā
What was that like for her? A beautiful anomaly in the Ninth Ward. Maybe I donāt have to wonder. Maybe I know firsthand.
āIt got kinda lonely, huh?ā I ask.
āYeah, it did.ā She circles the rim of her glass with an index finger. Her lashes lower like that might hide her memories from me, hide her pain, but itās in her voice. I recognize it.
āSometimes, even when we had a full house,ā I say, dropping my voice for just our ears, āIād end up in the backyard shooting hoops by myself until it got dark.ā
Like thereās some magnetic center, our bodies have turned in toward each other. Our confidences enshroud us, blocking out the ribald conversation, the impromptu karaoke across the room, the wild response to the games on the flat screens. Itās just us two misfits. A few minutes with a complete stranger, and I suddenly feel understood in a way thatās always been hard to find.
āYou get used to being alone,ā she finally says.
āWhat about your mom? You guys close?ā
āClose?ā She squints one eye and tips her head back. āNot really. Sheās made a lot of sacrifices for me, and itās never been easy. Sheās strong, a survivor, and I respect that, but I havenāt always agreed with her choices. I canāt remember my mother ever holding down a job for more than a few weeks.ā
āHowād you guys get by?ā
āSheās a beautiful woman.ā She raises cautious eyes, like she expects me to judge. āShe used to say thereās always some man willing to take care of a beautiful woman.ā
I donāt know what to say to that. My mom is a beautiful woman, too, but I canāt imagine her living that wayārelying on just the physicalābecause she started teaching when my dad died and has worked hard ever since.
āYouāre a beautiful woman.ā I nudge her knee lightly with mine. āAnd I bet you can take care of yourself.ā
A smile starts in her eyes and eventually spreads to her lips. āThank you.ā
I donāt have to ask which compliment sheās thanking me for.
āMy aunt is older than my mom by two years,ā she continues. āItās what my mom saw her do. Itās what they saw their mother do. They used what they had to get what they needed.ā
She sighs before sipping her drink and going on. āMy aunt relocated with us to Atlanta after Katrina, and they might have changed zip codes, but they didnāt change tactics. Apparently, men all over will take care of beautiful women.ā
āBesides your cousin, were you close to anyone else in your family?ā
āJust Lotus.ā A frown shadows her expression. āShe went to live with my great-grandmother south of the city and I stayed in New Orleans, but when she moved to Atlanta for college a few years ago, we got close again.ā
She shakes her head like sheās dislodging thoughts, memories. āEnough about my family dysfunction. What about you? Perry West was your dad, right?ā
āYou know about my dad?ā I ask.
āYeah, sure.ā Sympathy fills her eyes when they meet mine over our drinks. āLosing him that wayāit had to be tough.ā
āYeah.ā I shrug, a casual rise and fall of my shoulders that doesnāt hint at how tough it was. āHe was a great player.ā
āHe had an incredible long-range shot.ā She smiles ruefully. āHow long was he in the league?ā
āThe car crash happened in the middle of his second season.ā I was young, but I still remember his funeral. His teammates were all there, tall as skyscrapers to my six-year-old eyes. āTomorrowās his birthday.ā
āNo way.ā Her eyes go wide. āYouāre playing in the freaking National Championship on your dadās birthday?ā
I nod, allowing myself to smile for the first time over this monumental twist of fate. Itās a long time since my mom was married to my dad, but she probably remembers that tomorrowās his birthday. We havenāt talked about it, though. It feels like Iām the only one who knows it, and now this beautiful gumbo girl knows, too.
āIs tomorrow for him?ā Her eyes never leave my face, her intent focus drawing me into her.
āIt feels like it. You know? Like what are the odds? I keep wondering if he knows how far Iāve come. If he can see.ā I let out a soft laugh, watching her face for signs that she thinks Iām an idiot. āDoes that sound stupid?ā
āNot at all. I donāt know what happens after weāre gone, but I hope he can see. Heād be proud of you, no matter how the game goes tomorrow.ā
āI hope so.ā I lean in a little closer, giving her the same attention she afforded me. āWhat about your father? The German and Irish in your gumbo?ā
She smiles, but itās a tight curve of her lips.
āHe was German and Irish. Thatās about all I know.ā Her harsh laugh ripples through the pool of quiet weāve made here in our corner of the bar. āWell, I also know he had a wife and kids. My mother was just . . . a side chick, I guess. He paid her rent while they were together, but right after I was born he moved on. So did she. He never came around asking about me. She never offered much explanation for his absence.ā
āAnd now? Nothing?ā
āWe left everything in the Ninth when we moved to Atlanta.ā Her shoulders lift and fall with a carelessness I donāt buy. āHe could still be in New Orleans. He may have died when the levees broke. Who knows? Itās never made me much difference.ā
She flashes me another tight smile, signaling that sheās done with the topic.
āHowād we get into all that stuff?ā She points her finger at me in mock accusation. āYou, sir, are a good listener. Sneaky way to distract a girl from the fact that her teamās losing.ā
I glance up at the game, grabbing her segue out of deeper waters like a lifeline. āYou a Lakers fan?ā
āDie hard purple and gold.ā She folds her arms on the bar and leans forward, her eyes back on the screen. āNew Orleans didnāt have a team when I was growing up.ā
āWell theyāre getting crushed tonight,ā I offer unnecessarily, hoping to get a rise out of her. Of course, it works, and she goes on a diatribe defending the storied Lakers legacy, though itās taken such a beating lately.
Through halftime and the last two quarters, we squeeze in a lot of conversation between plays. She wants to work in sports marketing and has several internship opportunities that might pan out after graduation. It seems like most of her stories eventually circle back to her cousin Lotus, the ambitious badass fashion student who always has her back. For my part, I avoid rehashing all the things she already knows about me: the numbers on stat sheets and the stories that have been looping on all the sports shows. Instead, I tell her about my mom, about Coach, about the philosophy class thatās kicking my ass. We cover everything from minutiae to monumental in the time it takes the Lakers to get blown out.
āWhat did get you so into basketball?ā I ask her during a fourth-quarter commercial break.
āI dunno.ā She studies her beer, probably long gone flat. āOne of my momās guys, Telly, lived with us for a while when I was around ten.ā She leans one elbow on the bar, giving me a frank look. āHe was one of the few good ones who stuck around for a little bit. He loved basketball. Loved the Lakers and weād watch the games together.ā She chuckles, making track marks with her fingertips in the condensation coating her glass. āOn game nights, weād order pineapple pepperoni pizza and drink root beer floats.ā
āWhat happened?ā I sip on my third ginger ale. āTo Telly, I mean?ā
She answers first with a little shake of her head. āHe outstayed his welcome, I guess.ā Her eyes drift to the screen, maybe an excuse to look away. Or maybe the game really has grabbed her attention. Lakers have the ball. āSomeone else came along with more money. Mom traded up.ā
āYou ever see him, talk to him again?ā
Her eyes abandon the screen, and for a few quiet moments, she studies the bar top. āNo.ā
The word comes low and husky. After a moment she looks back up, flashing me a half-teasing grin. āBut I still like pizza and root beer when I watch the Lakers.ā
āNo pizza on the menu here?ā I mumble around a handful of nuts.
āBeggars canāt be choosers.ā The smile she shares with me morphs into a scowl when the final score displays onscreen. āAnother one for the āLā column. Shit calls all night, ref.ā
āReally? Shit calls?ā I glance from the game back to her face with skepticism. āNothing to do with the fact that the team is aging and plagued by injuries the last few seasons? End of an era, if you ask me.ā
āBite your tongue,ā she snaps, but thereās a playful glint in her eyes. āYou could end up going to the Lakers. Have you thought of that?ā
āWho knows where Iāll end up?ā I slant my smile at her. āIām hoping for the Stingers.ā
āBaltimore?ā A frown crinkles her eyebrows before clearing. āOh! Your hometown, huh?ā
āI mean, it happened for LeBron in Cleveland. He played where he grew up, for the Cavs.ā
āTrue. Why do you want to stay close to home? You a mamaās boy?ā
My laugh booms over the TV commentators analyzing the Lakersā loss in the background. āMy momās pretty awesome, but that wouldnāt keep me close to home.ā I stare into my ginger ale instead of at her, a little uncomfortable to express my reasons. āI just want to do something for the place that did so much for me. I was in the Boys and Girls Club. I had amazing teachers, especially in middle school when a lot of my friends started going off the rails. The community centerās where I fell in love with basketball.ā
Self-consciousness burns my face, and I shrug. āMy whole childhood was there, and that community made it a good one.ā
In the beat of silence after I finish, I glance up to find a slight smile on her face and warm eyes that meet mine easily.
āThatās cool,ā she offers simply, and Iām glad she doesnāt make it a big deal even though it must be obvious itās important to me. āSo, you ready for the draft?ā
I appreciate the shift of subject. Itās not likely Iāll go to Baltimore, and I donāt let many people know how much it would mean to me. āI am, but itās all happening so fast.ā A dry chuckle rattles in my throat. āThe NBA was some distant fantasy when I was in the eighth grade. Now itās right here, and unless something goes really wrong, itās actually happening. I just hope . . .ā
My words trail off, but my uncertainty remains. Itās not even about my ability to play at the next level. I know Iām prepared for that. Itās all that comes with it that Iām not sure Iām ready for.
āYouāll do great.ā Her slim fingers close over my hand, gripping the glass. āYouāll be an amazing player.ā
Just that light pressure, just seeing her hand with mine, feels good. Something about the sight levels the unevenness Iāve felt all day and unlocks words I havenāt said to anyone.
āI want to be more than just a player. I want to use my degree. I want a business. I want a family.ā It feels like a confession. āTo be a good husband. A good father. This world Iām entering in a few months, Iāve seen it devour guys. We work toward this all our lives, and an injury, age, a bad trade, whateverācan end it overnight. If the game has eaten up your priorities, turned you into someone you never wanted to be, whatās the point?ā I laugh self-consciously. āI probably soundāā
āYou sound too good to be true,ā she interrupts, her hand still resting on mine. āGuys in your position, the night before the big game, right on the edge of the draftāthese arenāt things most of them are thinking about.ā
She props her chin in the palm of her free hand, a slow smile working its way to her mouth. āYouāre special.ā She bites her lip, lifting her hand away from my fingers, dropping her eyes to the bar top scarred by a million glasses and a million moments before ours. āIām glad I met you.ā
That sounds suspiciously like the beginning of goodbye. Like sheās ready to close the door on this surreal chapter.
I canāt let that happen. A night like this, a connection like thisāitās singular. After tomorrowās game, my future will literally be a little ball bouncing around in the NBA Draft Lottery. I may end up playing for a team I donāt like, living in a place I wonāt get to choose.
But tonight, I have control. I have choices, and I choose her. To get to know her. To woo her. To earn her trust. All I need is time.
But time seems to be the one thing we donāt have.
āClosing.ā The bartender drags our empty glasses toward him and wipes down the surface in front of us. āYou aināt gotta go home, but you gotta get out of here.ā
I hadnāt noticed the bar emptying around us, but weāre nearly the last ones left.
āGood luck tomorrow, West,ā the bartender says, sliding two checks across the freshly-wiped bar.
āThanks.ā I stand and snatch both of them before she can even look at hers.
āGive me that.ā She lunges toward me, but I hold the check over my head, completely out of her reach.
She stumbles into me, her soft breasts pressing against my chest. I want to wrap my arms around the stretch of sensuous lines and curves that make up her body. With her check still suspended over my head, I slide my other hand down her back, investigating her shape beneath the clingy cotton. I palm the dip at her waist, drawing her a few inches closer until her warmth, her clean scent, surrounds me.
She blinks up at me, bright eyes darkening and widening, the green and gold lost in sable. Desire starbursts her irises. Weāve barely acknowledged the current humming between our bodies, the electricity running under the surface of our easy conversation, until just now. Until I lured her into me with a little slip of paper.
āLet me buy your drinks.ā I canāt remember ever wanting a woman the way I want her. I donāt just want to bury my hands in all that dark hair, or to discover for myself how sweet her lips taste, or to explore her body. I want more of her memories, her secretsāto accept an invitation she hasnāt extended to anyone else.
Her lashes lower, shielding her eyes from mine, but she canāt hide her bodyās responseāthe way all the places sheās soft seem to seek out the places Iām hard and unyielding. How her breath stutters over her lips in little pants.
āUm, okay.ā She steps back until weāre no longer touching, clearing some of the huskiness from her voice before going on. āThanks. I could have . . . well, thanks.ā
Neither of us speaks on our way to the door. I find myself slowing to match her shorter stride. We watch each other from the corners of our eyes, the silence between us pulsing with possibility. Once outside, weāre tucked away under an awning with the still-bustling city just beyond our patch of sidewalk. Inside, surrounded by people and noise and the action of the game, the conversation came so effortlessly. The confessions and admissions Iād never made to anyone else flowed right out of me. And now, itās just us and Iām not sure what to say to keep her here, but I know what Iāve been feeling, what weāve been doing, canāt end tonight.
Thereās this part in Spanglish, one of Adam Sandlerās chick flicks. He and his kidsā nanny share dinner at his restaurant. Itās just one meal, a few hours. The narrator, the nannyās daughter, says, āMy mother has often referred to that evening at the restaurant as the conversation of her life.ā Iām pretty sure I rolled my eyes when I heard it and said, āThat was some conversation.ā
But now, with her, standing at the edge of goodbye, all I can think is . . . that was some conversation.
The streetlight and the moon illuminate things the dimness of the bar hidāthe amber in her hair I thought was just black, the length of her lashes casting shadows on her cheeks while she studies the ground. We both seem to be searching for words. Itās as if weāve crammed so much into the last few hours that there are no words leftānone left for me, anyway. All I have is feeling. Need. I need to touch her, to kiss herāI need something physical to reassure me this encounter really happened. That this isnāt the end.
When youāre a foot taller than a girl, itās hard to smoothly go in for a kiss, so I donāt try for smooth. Iām careful, though. I lift her chin with one finger, persuading her eyes up to meet mine. I cup her cheek and lower my head until Iām hovering over those lips that look so soft I have to hold myself back from devouring them; I have to control my need to taste her right away. My body revs, demands. My heart slams into my rib cage. My dick is hard. Want sizzles through every cell of my body.
āAugust.ā She pulls her chin away and presses her hand to my chest, but not to explore. To gently push me back. I hold my breath, waiting to see what this means, this small space sheās put between us.
Her head drops forward until the dark cloud of hair eclipses her face, hides her expression. āIām sorry.ā She steps back, running a hand through her hair. āI-I canāt.ā
I want to bring her close again. āItās okay. I get it, of course. We just met.ā
I link our fingers. Even that brief contact stirs my senses. I check the roar of my body, hoping my erection doesnāt betray me.
āWe can just talk. We can go to your place, if youāre not far.ā I lift her chin so I can see her eyes. So she can see that I mean it. Despite the absolute inferno raging under my skin, itās enough. āWe can do whatever you want.ā
As little, as muchāletās just keep doing something. Letās just not stop.
āI-I canāt. We canāt.ā With a vigorous shake of her head, she takes another step back, dropping my hand, inserting space between us again. āI have a boyfriend, August.ā
Shit.
I shouldnāt be surprised that sheās taken. A girl this gorgeous, this funny and smart and authenticāsheās all the adjectives I would use to describe the perfect girl for me. Sheās even the things I didnāt know I wanted. But now I know, and I canāt have her.
A hole gapes open inside of me wider and deeper than it should be considering how little I know about her, but itās there. And by the second, it fills with disappointment and lost possibilities.
āSo . . . is it serious?ā I wince internally. If thereās anything more douchey than trying to kiss another guyās girl, it would be asking, in so many words, if sheās sure she wants to stay faithful to him.
āYeah.ā She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip. āWeāve been dating about a year.ā
She finally looks up at me, and at least the battle in her expression, the struggle reflected back to me from her eyes, assures me Iām not imagining the pull between us.
āI should have told you, but that would have been weird.ā She smiles ruefully. āI would have sounded like I was assuming you wanted more than . . .ā
We stare at each another in a silence rich with things I shouldnāt say.
āI do want more than.ā I manage a smile, though Iām frustrated and not just sexually. Iām downright devastated that some other guy got here before I did.
āIām sorry.ā She stuffs her hands in the back pockets of her jeans. āI was enjoying our conversation so much. I didnāt want to . . . I hope I didnāt mislead you.ā
āYou didnāt.ā I stuff my hands in my pockets, too, to keep from touching her again. āAt least I made a new friend.ā
Friend.
It sounds hollow compared to what I thought we could be, but I canāt demand more. I canāt make her give me more. Iām on the eve of something most men only dream of, and this bright-eyed girl has made me feel helpless.
āYeah.ā Her face relaxes a little into a smile. āA friend.ā
āAnd you helped take my mind off tomorrowās game.ā
As soon as I say it, both of our eyes go wide. I check my watch, dreading the time.
Fuck.
Curfew.
Was I so absorbed by this girl that I forgot curfew before the biggest game of my life?
Yeah, I was.
āOh my God.ā Her eyes are anxious, worried. āThe game. Youāve missed curfew.ā
The hunger, the heat, the rightness between us had made me shove every other thought aside, but they all intrude now. Curfew. The rest of the team, asleep and accounted for at the hotel. Tomorrowās game.
āWill you get in trouble?ā she asks, frowning.
āIt wonāt be the first time Iāve had to sneak in,ā I tell her with more confidence than I actually feel. The biggest game of my life, and I lost track of time with a girl in a bar.
But what a girl.
Looking at her, replaying every moment, every joke, every memory we shared over the last few hours, I canāt regret it.
āLet me at least walk you home.ā Curfew or not, thereās no way Iām letting her go alone.
āNo. Iām really close.ā
This part of the city is completely commercial as far as I can tell, not residential. āYour apartment is nearby? Or are you staying at a hotel?ā
Does she live here? Is she visiting? A student? Is she in town for the game? Will she be there tomorrow? Does she want tickets to come see me play? All the things we did talk about are suddenly less important than all the things we never said. I donāt even know her damn name. āGumboā wonāt get me very far after tonight. Panic tightens my body into a drawn bow. Even if itās never more than what we had tonightāthe honesty, humor, ease, empathyā I want to continue with her. Iāll even settle for the dreaded wordāfriendship.
āIāll walk you home,ā I insist.
āIāll be fine.ā She looks down at the ground and then back at me. The end is in her eyes. I see goodbye, and I want to stop it before it reaches her lips, but I donāt.
āGoodbye, August. Good luck tomorrow.ā She turns and starts up the sidewalk.
I want to chase her. To follow and find out where she lives or where sheās staying. Even knowing some lucky bastard found her first, I canāt imagine having no idea how to find her again.
āHey, wait,ā I call after her, forcing my feet not to follow. āYou should at least tell me your name. Do you really want me to think of you as Gumbo forever?ā
She faces me but keeps walking backward, steadily putting more space between us. Between this night and the rest of our lives. Mischief lights her eyes, and the sly smile playing around her lips makes me think for a terrible moment that she wonāt tell me.
āItās Iris,ā she calls back to me. āMy name is Iris.ā
I stay still, absorbing the sound of her name, absorbing the look on her face as she walks out of my life with as little fanfare as she entered it. Her smile dies off, and sheās staring at me like she wants to remember my faceālike she wonāt forget tonight either. Like maybe, unreasonably, undeniably, this night meant as much to her as it did to me. If she felt it, too, this connection, she canāt be walking away, but she is. Iāve only known her a few hours. Itās unreasonable that desperation bands my chest and panic shortens my breath, like Iām sprinting.
Except Iām standing still. And sheās still walking.
Walking and turning the corner, out of my sight.
She takes my hope for more with her when she goes.
#SighSwoonSwoosh
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I canāt wait to read this cause I still havenāt read a book involving basketball, and I love Kennedyās writing so much! Need to read more by her, and catch up on all her other books! š
Omg I canāt wait for this book so damn excited.
OMG!!! I already was excited about Long Shot, but after this first chapter!š±šš I need more!gimme gimmeš¤
Why iām excited for Long Shot? Cause its from Kennedy!
Super excited for all the feels i know Kennedy would bring with every book she write
OMG it is hard to stop after 1 chapter! I canāt wait to read more! I love forbidden romance and you always take me on an exhilarating journey that will leaves me raw, breathless and totally satisfied. So excited!
Itās a Kennedy book and I donāt have any of your physical books. Thanks for the chance!
Im looking forward to Long Shot because Kennedy is Queen and I know Iāll love August like I loved Grip and Rhyson and Iām ready for this new book boyfriend
Because I love basketball and there arenāt many romance books that feature it so Iām excited about that and also the fact that itās written by someone who loves the game as well! Thank you so much for the chance!
Iām kinda pissed that I have to wait to finish this story now lol. What a fantastic start. I canāt wait to see how it all works out for these two.
I need more pronto!!! Iāve loved your work forever and I canāt wait to read it all. So excited!!!
Why am I excited to read Long Shot!?! First of all, FOR THE LOVE OF THE GAME! Secondly, I know Long Shot will be a sports romance with substance, because of who is writing it. Thirdlyā¦.AUGUST!!! That man is F-I-N-E!!!! Honestly, there are so many reasons Iām excited, but mainly because I know Kennedy will have a buzzer beater with Long Shot!
Iām excited because Kennedy has never done me wrong! And also, I love sports romance.
Oh my!! It sounds awesome!! August sounds almost too good to be true!!! Sigh!! Cannot wait!! Seems like there is going to be some serious drama for August to get what he wants!!
Hell I was looking forward to this book just by the looks of the cover! #CoverWhore And I love basketball, so a sport romanceā¦YES, please and THANK YOU!
I am looking forward to Long Shot because the blurb sounds AMAZING, and this chapter has me even more excited!
Based on the snippets youāve shown, I AM SO EXCITEDDDDDD FOR THIS!!!!!!!!!
Wow! I so dam giddy right now! Their connection is so capturing! I love her sassiness and I love that he didnāt give up. Oh boy I canāt wait for this book!
Omg!! I didnāt want to stop reading!! Kennedy your words are life! I canāt wait to read this book. Ah! The connection they have already in just the first chapter! Amazing!!
Oh wow. I just love Kennedyās words and this taste has me craving so much more!
Many thanks <3
AND I loved Full Court Press so to say I am desperate for more of your sexy ballers is an understatement.
Iām a masochist. Reading only one chapter is a sure way to drive me crazy with wanting and desperation to have Long Shot in my arms already. Counting the days Kennedy.
Why do I want to read Long Shotā¦.the cover is absolutely gorgeous, the blurb grabbed my attention instantly, the 1st chapter already has me hooked, and I love basketball especially my Kentucky Wildcats #BBN #GOBIGBLUE!!! Thanks for the chance!!
I want to read Long Shot because it sounds amazing from what Iāve read. Iāve never read anything like that before and I actually love it already.
If the chapter reveal didnāt make me want to read this book, then that smoking HOT cover certainly would have pulled me in!! Canāt wait to check this one out!!
iām excited for long shot bc everything kennedy writes is gold and August will be no different!
Looks like a great read!& Iām a romance reader on a budget so I truly appreciate authors giving us a chance to check out new material & hopefully find new favs!! šš
After read 1 chapter I need to know more about Gumbo š. OMG this girl is so cool and August seems like a good guy. I canāt wait to read this. Thanks for the chance
Sports romances are my favourite and after one chapter I can already tell that Kennedy Ryan has knocked this one out of the park!! August has a lot going on! On the eve of the biggest night of his life, he is plagued with memories of his father and worried about his coachās wife!! Suddenly he hears a woman shouting at the tv in the bar and canāt resist going to her!! There he finds an instant connection with Iris, but all too soon the night ends!! How will their story end? Sigh!!! I canāt wait to read the rest of this book and see what happens!!!! Plus the cover is absolutely stunning!!! I donāt own any of Kennedyās books in paperback, I only have her books on kindle and this is one book I would definitely love to have in paperback!!!!
Iām excited to read Long Shot because Iāve read the first chapter and it looks amazing!!!!ā„ļøšš
I LOVE THE Chapter!!! OMG!! This is definitely a best selling (I SAID IT FIRST)
šŖšŖI love strong women who fucking curse. Its frowned upon but she doesnāt give a shit about what anybody thinks.
ššI love stories that highlights how women stand up against odds.
šŗšŗI always wanted to have a conversation with a stranger like this.
CANT WAIT FOR THISSSSS!!!
Ever since Full Court Press I knew I was going to love Long Shot and I have been really looking forward to it. Reading this chapter confirms that LS is going to be another favourite of mine. Iām so excited to know more about August and Iris, see what happens next, watch them fall in love, and curious about the issues that will be brought up. There is always at least one important message in any of KRās books.
Why Iām looking forward to Long Shot?!! The cover. The cover model. Heck the title. And that synopsis -.- This whole book premise has me D E A D ! But most of all, because there isnāt enough diversity in the book community. So when I find a book where the characters are diverse and different and canāt be put into a box I lose my mind. I lose all my common sense and get all googly eyed. I eat it up like cupcakes and chocolate. And if you need another reason because of this āI donāt just want to bury my hands in all that dark hair, or to discover for myself how sweet her lips taste, or to explore her body. I want more of her memories, her secretsāto accept an invitation she hasnāt extended to anyone else.ā The way you deliver your unique and poetic style of writing! The rawness.
ā
Good luck everyone! Thank you for the chance and for this amazing giveaway!!
ā xoxo
Kennedy has been sharing teasers, snippets, her inspiration and the gorgeous cover and I have been salivating for this book. I know Iām going to get so much more than a romance. Iām going to get heart, emotion, a new way to look at life and the world around us. Those are just a few of the things that make Kennedyās stories stand out.
From the first chapter alone Iām smitten and Iām sure Iāll be in love by the end.
I canāt wait for this baby, because since the GRIP Series, Iām in love with your writing!
Counting the daysā¦.
Iām excited because I just read Grip and loved it and now want to devour all of Kennedyās books. I also love sports romances and donāt think Iāve ever read a basketball/NBA one. Canāt wait
This sounds great & Kennedy Ryanās books are so good!
I fell in love with Kennedy Ryanās writing through Grip so Iām excited to read all her words.
I love love love sports romance and Kennedyā¦canāt get any better than that!
Why Iām excited for long shot. I canāt wait to find out what happens between August and Iris!! Even after one chapter I am rooting for them so hard itās crazy haha!! #sighswoonswoosh
This book sounds amazing!! And that cover is soooo hot!!!
There are not enough words to describe how I feel about this book. I can NOT wait for this, Iām connected with this story in so many ways, and Hello!!!! The cover,,, hello AUGUST!!
At first I was looking forward when a read the synopsis. Than I was looking forward again when I saw that AMAZING cover. And now Iām that Iāve read the first chapter I JUST CANāT WANT TO READ ALL OF IT! Release this amazing book to the world ASAP, girl!
I was looking forward when Iāve read the synopsis. Then I was looking forward again when I saw this stunning cover. And now that Iāve read the first chapter I JUST CANāT READ TO READ IT ALL!
RELEASE THIS AMAZING BOOK THE WORLD ASAP, GIRL!
Hi Kennedy,
Iām looking forward to long shot because I loved every single book or Schortstory I have read thatās written by youššā¤ļø I like sports romances a lot too.
I am so excited for this book I need a new keep me reading book to take with me to Vegas
Because Hello sports romance and that cover, gah! #coverlove Thanks so muchš
I canāt wait to read the rest! Iām loving it š
Forbidden. It just never gets old. It might make me weird, but Iām excited for the angst. š
The number one reason Iām looking forward to LONG SHOT is because you wrote it. Also, because I love sports romance and havenāt read too many (or really any) in the world of basketball. Please and thank you!!!
It is not amazing how good your words are with every book you write. You are an amazingly gifted author. Love you girlšš
OK, I am already thinking major motion picture! This chapter was so sexy! #SighSwoonSwoosh Indeed!!
Well first of all, youāre one of my fave authors! And love me some sports romance. Oh and that cover is gorgeous!!!
My entire comment disappeared from earlier so here I am again š© Why Iām looking forward to Long Shot?!! The cover. The cover model. Heck the title. And that synopsis -.- This whole book has made me D E A D ! But most of all, because there isnāt enough diversity in the book communityā¦ So when I find a book where the characters are diverse and different and canāt be put into a box I lose my mind. I lose all my common sense and get all googly eyed. I eat it up like cupcakes and chocolate. And if you need another reason because of this āI donāt just want to bury my hands in all that dark hair, or to discover for myself how sweet her lips taste, or to explore her body. I want more of her memories, her secretsāto accept an invitation she hasnāt extended to anyone else.ā The way you deliver your unique and poetic style of writing! THANK YOU for the chance! Good luck everyone xx
I donāt have to read the first chapter to know that Iām going to love this book. Kennedy Ryan wrote it. Thatās all I need to know that itās going to be one of my favorites.
Wow! This is great and Iām excited to get more very soon. I love Kennedyās writing and I love basketball, so Long Shot is for me.
How could I not be interested in this book its about basketballā¦. i love a good sports romance!!!
I so canāt wait to read this! I am caughtā¦ Hook, line and sinker! Kennedy, I love you and your words! Keep in being you! š
It is always exciting when a new book finally arrives. I cannot wait.
Excited for long shot? Read the 1st chapter and so far it has held my interest which is hard to do lately,so yes Iām looking forward to reading it.
I love sports romances, can never get enough of them!
LOVE LOVE LOVE this chapter š I am elated for Long Shot to be released š To be honest I am not a big sports fan, but my Grammy loved basketball, it was her favorite. So, it adds to my excitement, because it will be like spending time with her š
This sounds so good. Iām loving this. So far. Canāt wait for release! šā¤š
Reading this first chapter has made me want to read more!!!
Well, the cover is amazing, the blurb is awesome and first chapter made me want to read more!
Iām excited for Long Shot because I love Sports Romance, and Iāve never read one that was basketball-inspired! Thanks for the chance!
Iāve read plenty of sport romances. Focused on boxing, hockey, football, formula one, figure skating, tennis, but never one about basketball. And Iām intrigued by your upcoming book. I really want to find out what a basketball player gets and all his skills ;))
I spent a lot of good times watching my college boyfriend on a basketball court. I canāt wait to read this story. Thanks
It is going to be awesome and this chapter really has me wanting to read it more now
Oh yeaā¦ I want more! I want it ALL!!!! Canāt WAIT to read the rest!
The angst of forbidden love?? YES PLEASE!!š
Because it sounds amazing!
Honestly, I am ready for a story that I can identify with, even in the tiniest way. I know that Kennedy did her homework and I can feel it in my bones, that I will connect to this story on many levels. Letās be honest ā I LOVE a good romance ā I LOVE that she makes her couples work for it, but as with all of her stories so far, I LOVE that for some reason, I feel that her words are here for me to find and connect with when it comes to something I have gone through ā every story- Kai, Grip, and now Iris ā I carry parts of their story with me and now I am excited to read this, but honestly scared too. Sorry to be sappy!
well. except the AMAZING writing and the fact that Kennedy Ryan is one of my 3 favourrit authors- Iām really looking forward to reading this one ASAP, cause Iām going through a rough patch these days, and constantly looking for something that will occupy my mind from thinkinā about the things Iām bothered withā¦
really need a good book to escape for a little one so iām counting the days
I love basketball! This book sounds so good that i probably wonāt put it down till iām done reading it!
Wow!!! Looking forward to Long Shot.
Looking forward to Long Shot
Why am I excited about Long Shot? Well after reading the sneak peek I canāt wait till it comes out cuz I want more!!!
šššI need more!!!GimmeGimmeš¤ Augustā¦.gahhh!!
I CAN NOT wait for Long Shot!! I love sports romance and that little teaserā¦. That 1st chapter has got me wishing today was March 22nd and I could go 1-click right now!!
I really bad to make excuses for something but I really know this book will gonna be awesome.
And when I read the first chapter I told myself āahhh you trying to torture me, I want to read it so badā
All of the teasers and this chapter have me so excited. I CANāT WAIT TO READ IT!
This book sounds so freaking good! I love sports romance and I havenāt read many basketball stories! Kennedy is an amazing author and can write the hell out of characters and a story! Canāt wait!!!
I am looking forward to reading Long Shot because I love all books Iāve read by Kennedy Ryan! I donāt even need to read the first chapter to know I will love Long Shot š I cannot wait for release day to read the entire book.
Thank you for the chance at this giveaway <3
Because it sounds so good!!
Spicy and sexy with an alpha male who wonāt let go? Yes please !! Iām all in.
Sportsā
Forbidden Loveā
Total Hotnessā
Need I say more! Canāt wait!!
EXCITED because finally a book about BASKETBALLā¦ and because Cheri(kindlecrack) said get on this !
Wow so looking forward to this story it sounds amazing and now I need to find out what is going to happens with August, will he play in the game the next day and will he see Iris again?
Besides the hot guy on the cover that inspired the story?? Because there isnāt enough basketball stories and I really want to read it. Lol!
Thanks so much for the chance! ā¤ļø
Iām so excited to be able to read Long Shot. Kennedyās writing just flows so beautifully!
Looking forward for Long Shot because Kennedy Ryan is one of my fave authors and Iāve been waiting for a story like this from her šā¤ļø
I would love reading it because I did not like Flow then I read Grip andā¦ I got it! So I wantto see what you have up your sleeve now š
I love sports romances! I trust Kennedy to deliver a steamy, emotional love story that will stay with me long after I turn the last page. Also this will be my first basketball romance. Canāt wait to read!
I just want anything done by Kennedy Ryan.
Kennedy bring it to a whole new level canāt wait to read this book. Thank you for the chance.
Eekk! Im excited because its Kennedy and also because I love books like this ā¤ I canāt wait to read!! Thank you for opportunity and what a great first chapter!!
Reading the first chapter really got my attention. Plus youāre a new to me author, I love finding new authors for me to love. Thank you!
This book sounded great from just the blurb but this first chapter hooks you. Canāt wait
This is soooo good! I need to read the rest, not just want to I NEED too!! Love Kennedys books and this one wont be any different cant wait!!
Why am I looking forward to the book? Because the book sounds really really good!!
I love sports romance books! Havenāt read many basketball ones. Sounds awesome. Your killing me with the teasers. Love the cover.
Love sports romance. Plus your writing is amazing
Reading the blurb has made me want to read more! Sounds like a good book so far. Thank you for the chance!
WOW!! This was already on my TBR, and now I am more excited!! Congrats!!
Iām excited and intrigued at how real āGumboā was. As a New Orleans native who also relocated after Katrina I know her struggle first hand. Itās hard leaving you home behind starting from scratch with nothing. I can wait to finish this book!
Iāve heard so many good things about Kennedy and her books and this one looks like something I would enjoy.
Sexy player ā check
NA sports romance ā check
Amazing cover & blurb ā check!
I love you Kennedy! Anything you write, I read. Grip and Bristol still got me feeling some type of way and I finished their story weeks ago. You just have this thing that can really make readers feel eveerything!
I was lucky enough to read an ARC of this book and it completely blew me away. Iām excited for it to release so others can get lost in August and Irisās story!
I can not wait to read their story š
So completely engaging, I got lost reading that chapter, but it ended so quickly and I need to know what happens! I canāt believe I missed the sign up, but itāll be the first book I read when itās released!
I love Kennedyās writing and I love basketball.
Sounds amazing
Thanks ā¤ā¤ā¤ā¤
Me encanto
Looking for new reading material this would be great
KR, you sure know how to keep all of us on that roller coaster of emotion! Your writing is damn brilliant! Grip is an all-time favorite of mine and Iām looking forward to see if Long Shot can beat it. Never stop writing, never ever!
I cannot wait for Long Shot! The cover is absolutely stunning!! I love sport romances and basketball romances are rarely done! Also, soo intrigued after reading the first chapter!! Thanks for the chance!
Iām very excited to read Long Shot because basketball is my favourite sport and Iāve never read or heard of a basketball romance so I canāt wait to read about this baller! This cover caught my eyes before I even saw the authorās name so Iāve got triple anticipation with the cover,Kennedyās words and a baller romance! I CANNOT wait!!!
I cannot wait!!!
I canāt wait to read this book. The cover is gorgeous. I need to know more about August. I enjoy reading books, but especially ones written by Kennedy Ryan.š
The book cover makes you go hmmmā¦ maybe I want to read this. The first chapter lets you know this is a book I am going to love!!!!!
Thanks for this
I didnāt read the chapter because I know Iām going to want more after. So, Iāll just wait..
Iām looking forward to reading another amazing book written by you! Canāt wait!! Thanks for the chance!
I canāt wait to read this because I needed more after one chapter! And August, swoon over him, I was sucked in after the first few lines. Iām excited to read this!!!
The first chapter has me hooked canāt wait to see what happens I havenāt read any basketball romance and this sounds like a winner . Love the cover
I canāt wait to read this because all of your books just make me feel so many emotions. They are all thought provoking and IMPORTANT! I canāt wait to start this today.
Nice. Canāt wait to read!
Love the first chapter canāt wait to read the rest!!!
I love it! Everything I have read so far! I am excited to read the book.
Fortunately I was able to read the ARC for Long Shot. Absolutely amazing read and such an important one too. Iām a forever fan!
I just started this! Iām excited for it because there are many sports romance novels out there but this is the 1st NBA one Iāve seen and Iām excited to see how you blend that with your writing style!
Read the first 3 chapters and Iām just dying to read the rest but I need a paper copy, ebooks are hard on my eyes. I also play š and love basketball romance !
Thank you for the chance !!
This girl needs some August West in her life like ASAP! He is also already slated as my next book boyfriend. If Kennedy wrote it, its gold!! Oh this girl is the best!
Reading this chapter made me want more of it canāt wait to read it!
I am excited to read Long Shot because from the first chapter it had me wanting to read more! Not to mention the cover is hot! This will be the first book I have read by Kennedy Ryan and first basketball romance I have read! #Iaintskeered #Takingtheshot
So awesome!
Thanks for the chance ā¤ā¤
Iām looking forward to Long Shot because it sounds really interesting and after reading the first chapter here I need more!
I love your writing, and Iām excited for you to take me on another journey I know will stay with me long after Iāve closed the bookā¦ <3
I canāt wait, this book sounds so amazing.
I canāt wait to cry my eyes out!! š
Why do I want to read āLong Shotā? Because I am a basketball girl! I love basketball, and would love to read a romance with it tied in. Plus itās Kennedy Ryan! Thanks so much for the chance. Crossing fingers ā„
mmalavec(at)med(dot)umich(dot)edu
Iām excited to read this because 1 I read anything and everything by Kennedy. 2. Have you seen the cover?????? 3. It sounds really good
This sounds great! Canāt wait to read it!
Havenāt read a good sports romance in a while so looking forward to this! š
Love me an angsty sports story!
The book sounds so good! Love sports romances! I need to get this now. Thanks for the chance!!
I LOVE sports romances, there is just something about athletes that gets me all hot and bothered! Thanks for the chance, canāt wait to read it!
Basketball is one of my favorite sports to play! I canāt wait to read this book.
Kennedy Ryan wrote it. Thatās all I need to know that itās going to be one of my favorites
Sweet love it sounds HOT
Holy cow!! Iām hooked after the 1st chapter canāt say Iāve read ANY basketball romances but YES YES AND YES I want to read this!!! š
Oh myā¦I feel as though Iāve been left hanging on the edge of a cliff. I have to read this book!