Free Hooped #3 (The Hooped Interracial Romance Series, Book #3) by Claire Adams

“Cheering our
boy. You got a good one there, Dev.”
    Devon chatted for a few moments—and I knew that he was
anxious to get me somewhere private where we could talk.   I kept up my own end of the conversation,
smiling and nodding, agreeing with a few comments about the game. I could feel
the tension in the room—but obviously no one wanted to talk about whatever was
happening with Devon. That made me even more deeply worried; I didn’t know how
to feel about something that everyone in the frat knew about, but which no one
would talk about. Something that the coach of the team wouldn’t talk to the
press about, that Devon wouldn’t mention
in public. My heart was beating in my chest as my brain played through all of
the possibilities; maybe there had been a death in Devon’s family, or someone
had been injured, or he was sick. Maybe Devon had bad grades in one of his classes and was going to be put on academic
probation. Any number of things would have happened.
    I somehow managed to keep my anxious self together.
After a while, Devon finally managed to beg off, saying that he was tired after such a big game and wanted to get some time with me alone. I grinned
nervously, looking around the room; there were a few leers —a few suggestive looks, from guys who were pretty sure they
knew what Devon was really after. Some of the other guys in the frat looked at
Devon and Me as if they were
contemplating an explosion. Devon took me by the hand and led me up the stairs,
saying goodnight to the other guys. He gave my hand a little squeeze, and I
could see the anxiety in his eyes as he glanced at me.
    My heart beat in my chest, faster and faster, as I
tried to decide what the worst possible thing could be. Maybe he knocked someone up; condoms break, the pill fails—it could be
that. If he’s not seeing her still, I could be okay with that…I guess…or maybe
he took steroids and got caught—though I can’t even imagine him doing something
quite so stupid. Maybe he and some other member of the team had some kind of
problem—some kind of fight. Oh god, I wish he would just tell me what’s going
on. I might die of a fucking heart attack before we even get to his room.
    Devon opened the door to his bedroom and led me
through it, and for a long moment we were both silent as he closed the door
behind us. I waited for him to tell me—I waited for him to say something,
anything. Devon was looking at the floor, staring at it; it made me terrified.
Whatever it was, it was obviously a really huge deal. This couldn’t be
something minor, not the way that he was wrestling with himself, avoiding my
gaze.
    “God, Devon,” I said, sitting down heavily on the edge
of his bed. “Just tell me. I don’t even care what it is, just tell me. I can’t
sit here and keep stewing anymore.” Devon finally met my gaze and looked like
he was about to cry.
    “Okay,” he said slowly, taking a shaky breath and
licking his lips. “But you have to promise to hear me out—don’t say anything
until I’ve told you the whole story.” I closed my eyes; if it was this dire—did
I really want to know it? But I had to know now. I couldn’t just brush it off
and pretend like nothing was going on. Obviously the guys downstairs knew what
had happened; the press knew about it. Everyone seemed to know about it except
for me. I couldn’t just stick with ignorance.
    “Fine,” I said, opening my eyes and taking a deep
breath. “I—I promise. I’ll let you explain the whole thing before I say
anything about what it is. Just tell me.” Devon swallowed and moved across the
room, sitting in his desk chair. He took
another breath.
    “After the game, coach pulled me aside in the locker room,” Devon said slowly. “He told me—he said
that some guys on the academic standards committee needed to talk to me.” I bit
my bottom lip to keep from saying anything; if the academic standards committee
wanted to talk to Devon—if they had—it had to be