abnabooks Chapter 153: Pressure Makes Kings
Chapter 153: Pressure Makes Kings
The clock ticked under a minute left in the quarter, and the court turned to sludge.Jinzo, chest heaving like he’d run suicides for hours, isolated against Aiko on the wing, her stance low, eyes locked, twin tails swinging as she mirrored his every fake.
He jabbed left, crossed right, but his handle wobbled, sweat flying off his brow in droplets that caught the lights.
He was desperate, eyes wild, mouth slack, a low whine escaping as he pump-faked and leaned in too far.hought she was really about to put her threat to display.
Nash anticipated and rose smoothly, unfolding from his seat, hands spreading casually on his chest—palms flat, fingers splayed like a perfect gentleman.
alright... Breathe... And improvise
Outward, he played it cool, voice even, laced with that chad drawl.
"By all means... sub him. I’ve been warming the pine long enough."
Jinzo’s head snapped up.
"This is bullshit! I earned this spot! Practices, drills, I was killing it! You can’t just—"
But the hope guttered fast, Victoria’s nod to the assistant ref sealing it. No outs. Jinzo’s fists clenched on his thighs, fists trembling, a choked sound escaping, half-sob, half-growl, as the reality hit.
This was it, he was done for, he had missed his last chance to have a saying in this team.
His shoulders shook once, twice, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.
No, he couldn’t, he couldn’t cry, this would be the ultimate assassination.
He swiped them furiously, breath hitching.
Nash stepped up, close enough to clap a hand on his shoulder. Was it the final execution? Was Nash that cruel?
But it was a firm grip, not pity, thumb pressing into the muscle like anchoring a storm.
"Hey. Like a man, Jinzo." His voice was low. "You can’t burn ten chances and whine when the eleventh ghosts you. This was your window, the spotlight, the prove-it quarter. You missed the shot clean." He paused, letting it land, eyes locking unblinking, but Jinzo wouldn’t look back.
"Stop the noise. Act. Build from the dirt." He continued, softer. "Look, I don’t root for anyone to rot on the bench forever. Game’s too short for that grudge. Tonight, it won’t be possible to make you shine, they have a too good strategy against us. But it’s only the first match, you’ll have more chances. Let’s practice together, ok? And when your number’s called again, do something. Make it stick."
Jinzo finally stared up, chest stuttering, the words sinking in slow, anger turning to something else, maybe resent, maybe hate, maybe relief.
He nodded eventually, fists unclenching, wiping his face rough, muttering a thick."Yeah... fuck," but the edge dulled, just a hair.
The room exhaled collectively, Nash said words they all needed.
Now, back to business, he turned, pivoting to Jaz slumped on the bench’s edge.
Her legs were splayed wide, elbows on knees mirroring his earlier pose, chest rising in deep, labored pulls that stretched her jersey tight.
Sweat traced rivers down her collarbone, pooling in the dip of her throat; her arms trembled faintly from the grind, thighs marked red over her tanned skin.
He crouched down to her level, his voice soft, touching her knee lightly to get her attention.
"Rest now. I’ll handle it from here. Just take a break," he said, keeping his eyes on hers.
Jaz slowly lifted her head. A small, real smile appeared on her face. She looked tired but proud.
"About time, Champ." She raised her fist, and he met it with his own. Their knuckles hit firmly, and her hand squeezed his for a second.
[Jaz: 89% → 96% (Admiring)]
She leaned back against the wall and let out a long breath, her body relaxing a little.
Nash stood up and looked at Alicia. She was already grinning and bouncing on her toes.
"You too," he said. "Sub in with me. Let’s turn this around."
arms wrapping his neck in a quick, fierce hug, body pressing close, curves soft and warm against him, chin hooking his shoulder for a beat.
For a second, he felt the softness of her chest press against his face, her skin hot and damp from the game.
A light scent of sweat and floral perfume mixed between them.
"Hell yeah. Knew you had my number."
She pulled-back grin wide, eyes lit.
[Alicia: 59% → 85%(Motivated)]
As Victoria shouted orders, Nash looked across the room. Nia leaned against a locker, watching with a teasing look. Her jersey tugged low enough to tease the swell of her tits, one brow arched slyly.
He nodded toward the washroom door and spoke quietly.
"Nia. Come here. Need to talk."
She smirked and pushed off the wall, walking toward him with that slow, confident sway.
When she got close, he caught her scent, sweat mixed with light citrus, breath warm on his ear as she murmured.
"Talk, huh? In the washroom again? Bold, Nashy. If it’s what I think... don’t keep a girl waiting."
She brushed his arm lightly with her fingers, nails grazing, eyes dancing with that flirty heat as the steam rising behind her.
Then she followed him toward the door, both of them disappearing into the steam.