End Game

Thirty-Seven

⚠️TW//low⚠️

"Thank fuck." Jo sighs as she pulls her car into the empty garage. She'd beat Jackie home, which means she has time to think before she has to face Michael. She'd been trying all evening to figure out Jackie's angle, why she brought Michael out to a game when her sister already knew how stressed she was from having Spencer and dad there.

"Jordan." She freezes with her hand over the garage door button, ice running down her spine at the sound of his voice. "I just want to talk, JP."

"Fuck you, Spencer." She hisses, pushing the button only to have the light flicker and the door not drop. He must be standing in front of the sensor.

"If you'd like." She hears him chuckle as she pushes through the door into her home, knowing he will be following without permission. Dropping her bag onto the table she kicks off her slides, rounding on the door just as Spencer walks through it, her shoulders dropping further as her dad follows him in.

"Oh good, another hash out with the devil, and he brought his want-to-be son this time." She spits, hands landing on her hips as the door slams behind them.

"Wow, JP. You've really done well for yourself here." Spencer ignores her, his eyes wandering the main living space of her home. Something inside her wants to fling herself forward and cover his eyes, feeling as if he's violating her personal space simply by being in it.

"Ya, well, I dumped your ass and kept working mine off and here we are. Now why the fuck did you think it would be okay to follow me home? I can't stop either of you from coming to my games unfortunately, you're NBA reps, but I can ask you to get the fuck out of my private living space."

"No need for hostility, I just wanted to chat, it's been a while." He smiles, "How have you been, Jordan?"

"Better since I cut you loose." She bites.

"That sucks, because that might have been the biggest mistake of my life. Losing you, I mean."

"If you're here to grovel for me back, you're about five years and slept with half of San Antonio while we were technically still together, too late."

"Please, as if I'm dumb enough to believe you'd take me back." Spencer scoffs.

"Then why are you here?"

"Because I still care about you, and your dad and I both believe you can be better than you are. So we came to give you some pointers."

"I don't want them." Her voice goes hard. Of course this is why they came, they want to do what they always have, tell her how badly she fucked up in the game.

"First off," He ignores her again, "you need to be playing more minutes. That coach doesn't know what she has in you if she's only playing you fifteen minutes a game."

"I literally dislocated my shoulder last month. Why is this even something you feel is worth a discussion? I'm recovering from an injury, I'm lucky to be playing at all!" She groans. "I cannot have this same fight again, and you are not worth my time to have it. I already asked you to get out of my house once in the last week, now I'm asking you both to get the fuck out." She points toward the door, heart only dropping further as it opens yet again.

"What the fuck are you two doing here?" Jackie's voice is filled with ice as she stops short, Michael's eyes wide from where he stands over her shoulder.

"Leaving." Jo spits, her eyes practically daring them to contest the statement.

"We weren't done chatting, Jordan. Don't kick us out yet." Spencer smirks, his tone laced with venom.