Smooth Play (Brooklyn Monarchs 2)

Warrick’s brows came together. “A recent interview?”

“Yeah.” Jamal shoved the nearly ruined printout at his teammate. “The only thing is, I keep telling Troy I didn’t talk to the guy.”

Warrick took the sheet from Jamal. Troy watched as the seasoned player smoothed the paper and started to read the column. A muscle flexed in Warrick’s jaw. He must have come to the part where the columnist quoted the rookie denigrating Warrick’s skills. Or maybe it was the part where Jamal declared it was time for the veteran to retire.

Troy rubbed his gritty eyes, then rubbed the back of his neck. This was one of the longest Thursdays ever, starting with his taking Barron home from the club. He hadn’t meant for Warrick to read that trash. The interview was with a brash baller masquerading as a teammate and reported by an irresponsible gossip pretending to be a legitimate journalist.

The smack of basketballs against the gleaming hardwood court and the chatter of conversations spoken above normal decibels faded into the background, becoming an annoying buzz.

Warrick finished the column. He looked first to Jamal. The younger man returned his study with a mixture of defiance and dismay. Silence lengthened as they held each other’s gaze.

Finally, Warrick handed Troy the printout. “Jamal didn’t talk with this columnist.”

“See? I told you.” Jamal vibrated with righteous indignation.

Troy ignored the rookie, keeping his attention on Warrick. “How do you know?”

Warrick also ignored the younger player. “Jamal is arrogant, obnoxious, and juvenile, but he’s not a liar.”

“I’m not juvenile.” Jamal sounded annoyed.

Warrick held Troy’s gaze. “If he said he didn’t talk to this columnist, he didn’t.”

“I’m not arrogant, either.” Jamal seemed offended.

Warrick was probably right. Troy didn’t have any personal history on which to base his suspicions of Jamal. All he had was that column. “Then how did the blogger get that inter view?”

Warrick shrugged. “He didn’t. The blogger is the liar. He says he interviewed Jamal, but he didn’t.”

Why was the veteran point guard defending the rookie who took his spot, especially after all the aggravation the younger player had caused him? That was beyond Troy’s comprehension.

He inclined his head toward Jamal. “You really believe him?”

Jamal bounced on his toes. “Why shouldn’t he? I’m not a liar.”

Troy still had some doubts. “Those quotes sound just like you. That blogger couldn’t have made them up.”

Warrick nodded. “He probably lifted them from articles that ran earlier in the season.”

Troy scowled at Jamal, letting the younger man see his irritation. “Or heard the comments you made from the court.”

Jamal dropped his gaze. “I didn’t mean them.”

Warrick’s chuckle was dry and unamused. “Yes, you did.” He checked his watch. “Are we good here? I want to get some weights in before I leave.”

Jamal’s eyes stretched wide. “No, we’re not good. This needs to be fixed. It’s bad enough having my teammates think I’m arrogant, obnoxious and ...”

“Juvenile,” Troy prompted.

“Right.” Jamal gave him a sour look. “I don’t need them thinking I’m a liar, too.”

Troy nodded toward Warrick. “We believe you.”

Jamal set his jaw. “Rick isn’t the whole team.”

Troy saw his point. “I’ll tell them to take it down and threaten them with legal action if they continue to harass our players.” He’d consult with Jaclyn to make sure he had her support before he made those threats.

Jamal crossed his arms. “I want an apology.”