Consequences

CHAPTER 8

Panting, Karlos loosened his tie and then mop the sweat on his forehead using his forearm.

Karlos couldn't help but frown at the man who now had a vain expression in his emerald eyes. Karlos mentally shook his head. Because he had known this man ever since he was a teenager, he knew very well that he intends to ruin his play and composure—Bazzi's classic approach to distract his game plan.

Karlos started to move and although he was in his formal attire, he didn't seem to mind and proceeded to perform a crossover dribbling.

The Cuban successfully broke through the opponent’s defense and attempted to execute a layup shot when instantaneously—Andrew solidly blocked the ball into the basket, causing the ball to fly to the stands.

“Hell, yeah!”

Andrew's arrogant scream resounded throughout the basketball gym. He even flexed his bare biceps in front of the Cuban before jogging towards the ball. Meanwhile, Karlos simply shook his head and put his hands on the sides of his torso, striving to regularize his breathing.

Using his index finger, Karlos scratch his jaw and watched the approaching rookie player. Noted the conceited grin on the corner of the man’s mouth.

“Did you see that, Bruh?” Andrew smirked, dribbling the ball, “Piece of advice, Cabello. Never try to challenge the Block King again—but since you’re my best friend, I'll give you a chance. So, game 3?”

Karlos brushed up his damp hair and eyed the man for a few seconds. Abruptly, a low chuckle released from his mouth.

“You’re fortunate, I'm wearing leather shoes. Because if not, I'm sure the ball got straight into the ring.”

Karlos stripped his wet long sleeves and undershirt and while doing so, his body muscles are flexing effortlessly as though, he was a model of the famous men's brand.

Honestly, he has no plans to catch up with him—most especially to play basketball since nowadays, he’s extremely exhausted from work. In addition, he often lacks of proper rest due to the urgent reports that requires to be submitted. However, he simply accepted his invitation since they rarely see each other as they are both occupied with their respective careers.

Andrew was left smirking in his place but soon followed the Cuban on the path towards the bleachers.

“So many alibis. Admit it, you lose! You know? Even if you and Bassett are on the same team. Trust me. I can manage both of you!—Hold on. Bruh… Did the cat scratch you?” Karlos stopped in his tracks and hurried to face the man, beholding his friend’s expression was streaked with suspicion. “Why is your back covered with scratches? Damn, even your nape too—”

Seconds later, the corners of the man's mouth twitched into a suggestive smile as though, realization hits him. The Cuban knew that, causing his cheeks to turned crimson red. Shaking his head, Karlos immediately reached for the towel hanging on one of the bleachers and covered his sweaty upper body. Karlos sat down wearily and took a sip from the stainless steel water bottle.

“Holy shit!” Andrew exclaimed in disbelief. His emerald eyes shone with dazzling and joy. Smirking, he settled beside the man and plopped his arm over his friend’s shoulder who was now averting his critical gaze. “Damn! You’re totally a man now! Bruh, tell me the details! So...do I know this lady?”

Hearing this, Karlos reacted instantly and without indication, he hit the man's chest with his elbow. The curly-haired man grunted in response while caressing his injured chest.

“The fuck was that, Karlos?!” Andrew growled, still enduring the pain of his chest.

“I'm sorry, Bruh—B-But of course, you know her! I am truly faithful to my wife and I made love with her. We made love.”