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“These boots are over a year old. My mom customized these shorts. Now, this shirt is Mugler, the shades are Chanel, and the bag is Bottega. I’ll invite you to my next shopping trip. My girl Devyn knows when all the drops come.”

I looked up again, and Emery got another three points. They were beating Houston by 6 points. Their coach called for a time-out, and he was on his way over to me. Sweat dripped down his face, jersey sticking to him. He looked good as hell, and the bitches behind me weren’t shy about saying how fine he was.

“Emery knows he’s fine as hell!” one of them said.

I didn’t even bother turning around. If I did, I might smack the helmet wig the bitch was wearing right off her fuckin’ head and deflate her homegirl’s big ass, filler-filled lips. When he made it to me, he bent down and kissed me, pecking my lips as many times as he could before the whistle blew again.

“I love you,” he said quickly before running off to huddle.

“Oh, so that really is his girlfriend?” one of the bitches behind me said.

“Tuh! I can’t tell. Wasn’t she just on the blogs with that baseball player?” Lumpy Wig replied, sounding like a bitter bitch.

I lifted my glasses and looked at Jacinta. We both turned around at the same time, grilling them both.

“Y’all bitches know I can hear y’all, right? Watch your fuckin’ mouth or lose your teeth,” I spat.

“I have nooo problem having security escort you out. I’ll get you banned. Shut up and enjoy the game, cuero estupida!” Jacinta snapped.

We both turned around and burst out laughing. “I heard them the first time they said something! These groupie bitches are so disrespectful,” Jacinta said, locking her arm around mine.

“I’m not worried about them, but they better not say shit else.”

“I hear you, mami. Buuut, I did not miss you in the blogs. Wig was laid, fur was phenomenal… but girlie. That was not Emery.”

I liked Jacinta, but she was so nosy, and she wasn’t shy about asking questions. She always had the tea about these players, their side bitches, side babies, and sometimes side boyfriends.

“Cin, you just don’t give a fuck do you?” I chuckled, rolling my eyes.

“Whaaat? I’m just asking. You and Emery seem good, but shit, it doesn’t hurt to ask.”

“Juvie Ross is my client. That’s it, and that’s all. As for my man and me, we’re fine. That’s why I’m sitting courtside at his game, and I have a fresh wig laid on my head. He snatched the last one off. Trust me, everything is good over here.”

Jacinta threw her hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. I believe you, mami. Stay out of the blogs, though. Once they get a hold of you, they won’t let go.”

“Don’t I know it. I had a cool ten thousand followers on my business page. That grew to fifteen thousand followers. They found my personal profile, and I gained eight thousand followers overnight. It’s too much.”

“They got you then. Your days of posting whatever you want on your personal page are over. Welcome to the life of a WAG,” she said, looking out on the court at her husband and licking her lips. “But it sure does have its perks.”

“You ain’t lying,” I murmured, watching Emery.

Jacinta and I locked in on the game. More her than me. She was on her feet, screaming at the other team in Spanish. The game was winding down to the last six minutes, and Houston was down by only three points. Emery had the ball, and he went in for a layup. Houston’s point guard came up at the same time as Emery, but he came down with his elbow in Emery’s chest on purpose. I gave the ref a second to call the fuckin’ foul, and the nigga walked away as Emery held his chest.

“Hey! I know you fuckin’ saw that! Where’s the fuckin’ foul?!” I screamed, pointing at the other player.

The ref threw his hands up like he didn’t see it, but Emery’s coach was already on his feet, in the ref’s face. Em jogged over, trying to calm the situation down. When the other player’s coach and the point guard came over too, I knew shit was about to get ugly. The point guard said something to Em. Em shot back with a smirk, and the point guard shoved him.

Before the ref could get between them, Emery mushed the player in the face. The player swung at Emery and missed; that’s where he fucked up. Emery swung back, cracking him right in the mouth. Players crowded around, and the whole arena stood up. Emery’s teammates pulled him back, and the other player’s teammates pulled him back with a bloody mouth.

“Fuck wrong wit’ you?! Bitch ass nigga!” Em spat, struggling against his teammates.

“¡Coño! I know y’all fuckin’ saw that! He swung first! ¡Fuera! Get that bitch off the court before somebody beats his ass again!” Jacinta yelled, throwing her arms around.

I just picked up my purse because I knew they would probably eject Em from the game. This wasn’t the first time this had happened, and with his temper, I knew it wouldn’t be the last. Em locked eyes with me from across the court, and he mouthed, “Sorry, baby.” But this wasn’t on him. The whole arena was buzzing, but the tension in the air kept it quieter.

The refs huddled at the scorer’s table while both teams stayed separated. Emery paced near the bench, still heated, but I already knew how this shit would go. My leg bounced as I waited to hear the news. Jacinta grabbed my hand, holding tight and squeezing every few seconds, trying to calm herself down.

“I can’t believe this,” she muttered.