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prettygirl-gabi · 3 months ago

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Title: Unfinished Business

Pairing: Jada Williams x Reader

Word Count: 2.3k+

Rating: Angst, Tension, Slow Burn

Fandom: Women’s College Basketball

Summary:… it means nothing… or everything… who knows

🏷️: @yailtsv

Pt2 Pt3

Arizona wasn’t on my radar. Hell, I never thought I’d leave UCLA. But things change. Promises break. People leave. And now, I’m here, standing in the middle of Desert Financial Arena, wearing blue and red instead of blue and gold, pretending that it doesn’t bother me.

But what bothers me more?

Jada Williams.

She’s here. And from the second I walked into practice on my first day, she’s made it clear that she doesn’t want me here.

“New transfer from UCLA,” Coach announced, clapping a hand on my shoulder. “Make her feel welcome.”

Except Jada didn’t.

She barely looked at me, barely acknowledged me. Where I got nods and polite greetings from the rest of the team, I got nothing from her. Just an impassive stare, her jaw clenched tight like she was holding back every unspoken word we never said.

That first week, I tried.

I caught her after practice. “Jada—”

She walked past me.

I sat next to her at team breakfast. She got up without a word.

I passed to her during scrimmages. She didn’t pass back.

I wasn’t stupid. I knew what this was. A silent punishment for leaving. For what happened between us before I left.

But she didn’t get to be mad at me when she was the one who let me go first.

⸻

Weeks passed, and I stopped trying. If she wanted to act like I didn’t exist, fine. I could do the same.

At least, I thought I could.

But it was hard when every game, every practice, every team event put us in the same space, with nothing but distance between us. Harder when I caught her looking when she thought I wouldn’t notice, the same way I still caught myself looking at her.

It was even harder now, standing in the middle of a department store, trying to ignore her presence a few feet away while I shopped for some essentials.

“Excuse me, ma.”

I barely had time to react before a guy stepped into my space, all confidence and a smirk that made my skin crawl.

“What’s up?” he asked, leaning too close.

I took a step back. “Just shopping.”

He didn’t get the hint. “Well, since we’re both here, how about you give me your number? I could take you out, show you a good time.”

I sighed. “I’m good, thanks.”

“C’mon, don’t be like that. Just one date.”

“No.”

He laughed like I was joking. Like I was playing hard to get. Like he wasn’t hearing the rejection in my voice.

Then suddenly, an arm wrapped around my waist.

“She said no.”

Jada.

I stiffened, feeling her press against me, her voice calm but sharp as a blade. The guy blinked, confused.

“Who are you?”

Jada didn’t hesitate. “Her girlfriend.”

My breath hitched. “Jada—”

She turned to me, expression unreadable. “Just go with it.”

The guy looked between us, suspicious. “Oh yeah? If that’s true, prove it.”

I felt my pulse in my throat.

Jada didn’t hesitate.

Before I could say anything, she tilted my chin up, leaned in, and kissed me.

And God, I should have pulled away.

But I didn’t.

I couldn’t.

Because the second her lips met mine, everything else disappeared.

The weeks of silence, the months of distance, the hurt, the anger—it all blurred into nothing. All I felt was her. Her lips, soft and familiar. Her hand, gripping my waist. The way she kissed me like no time had passed, like we weren’t pretending, like we hadn’t left things unfinished.

By the time she pulled away, my heart was in my throat.

Jada turned back to the guy. “Believe me now?”

He held up his hands, backing away. “Yeah. Yeah, my bad.”

And just like that, he was gone.

Silence stretched between us, thick with everything we weren’t saying.

I swallowed. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Her jaw tensed. “Yeah, I did.”

“Why?”

She exhaled sharply. “Because I wasn’t about to stand there and watch some dude keep pushing up on you like you weren’t saying no.”

I searched her face. “And the kiss?”

Jada didn’t answer right away. Instead, she looked at me like she was debating something, like she was on the edge of something she wasn’t ready to say.

Then, finally—

“Because I wanted to.”

And just like that, everything I thought I knew shattered.

I opened my mouth, but before I could speak, she took a step back.

“I gotta go.”

And then, like always—

She left.

Leaving me standing there, heart racing, breath shallow, with nothing but the taste of her on my lips and a thousand unanswered questions in my head.

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-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

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prettygirl-gabi · 3 months ago

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Title: Unfinished Business (Part 2)

Pairing: Jada Williams x Reader

Word Count: 2.6k+

Genre: Heavy Angst, Eventual Fluff

Summary: maybe running is better… maybe not…

🏷️: @yailtsv @starfulani

Pt1 Pt3

Jada left me standing in that department store like the kiss never happened.

Like she hadn’t looked me in the eyes and said she wanted it.

Like she hadn’t just cracked open every locked-up feeling I had buried for months.

I should have known she’d run. That’s what we did—danced around the truth until it was too late to fix anything. But I wasn’t going to let her do that this time.

So I gave her space.

For a day.

Then, when practice ended and she tried to slip out before I could catch her, I didn’t let her.

“Jada.”

She ignored me, grabbing her bag from the bench.

“Jada.”

Nothing.

I exhaled sharply, stepping in front of her before she could leave the locker room. “You kissed me.”

Her jaw tightened. “I know.”

“You said you wanted to.”

“I know.”

“Then why the hell are you acting like it didn’t happen?”

She inhaled, eyes closing briefly, like she was summoning patience. When she opened them, they were cold, distant. “It didn’t mean anything.”

The words hit like a punch to the gut.

I forced out a bitter laugh. “That’s bullshit.”

Jada shrugged, adjusting her bag on her shoulder. “Believe what you want.”

I stared at her, anger and heartbreak bleeding together until they were indistinguishable. “Why are you doing this?”

She finally met my eyes, and for a second—just a second—I saw it. The hesitation. The crack in her resolve.

Then it was gone.

“I don’t owe you an explanation.”

That hurt more than anything else she could’ve said.

My breath caught, but I forced myself to nod. “Right. Got it.”

I stepped aside, giving her room to leave. She hesitated—just for a second—but then she walked past me, not looking back.

And I told myself I wouldn’t follow this time.

I told myself I wouldn’t care.

But that was a lie.

⸻

For the next week, I did exactly what Jada wanted.

I acted like she didn’t exist.

No more lingering looks. No more attempts at talking. No more giving her the space to hurt me again.

If she wanted distance, she could have it.

Except, I knew it was getting to her.

I saw it in the way she hesitated before answering a question in the locker room when I was around. In the way she stiffened every time we were paired up in practice. In the way she looked at me when she thought I wouldn’t notice—like she had something to say but refused to let herself say it.

And honestly? It pissed me off.

She wanted to act like I was nothing? Fine. I could be nothing to her, too.

Or at least, I thought I could.

Until it all came crashing down.

⸻

It was a late-night practice. Coach had let most of the team go, but Jada and I stayed behind for extra shots.

Correction: I stayed behind. Jada just happened to be there, too.

We ignored each other, like we’d been doing for days. I was focused, hitting shot after shot, trying to drown out the feeling of her presence on the other side of the court.

Until I heard a ball slam against the wall.

I turned, finding Jada standing near the free-throw line, hands clenched into fists.

I frowned. “You good?”

She scoffed, shaking her head. “I don’t know, am I?”

I narrowed my eyes. “What’s your problem?”

“My problem?” She laughed, but it wasn’t amused. “You, apparently.”

I felt my stomach twist. “What the hell did I do?”

Jada took a step closer, eyes blazing. “You act like you don’t care.”

I stared at her, incredulous. “That’s what you wanted.”

“No,” she snapped. “I wanted you to fight.”

I blinked. “Fight for what, Jada? You pushed me away the second I got here. You’ve been icing me out for weeks, acting like I don’t exist. And now you’re mad because I finally gave you what you wanted?”

She didn’t answer.

I exhaled sharply, shaking my head. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to kiss me, say you wanted it, and then act like it meant nothing.”

Silence.

Then—

“It scared me.”

I froze. “What?”

Jada swallowed hard, looking away. “The kiss. It scared me.”

I searched her face, my heart hammering. “Why?”

She hesitated. “Because it felt real.”

My breath caught.

She looked back at me, vulnerability bleeding through the cracks in her walls. “I thought I was over you. I thought that when you left UCLA, that was it. That I could move on.”

“Did you?” I asked quietly.

She shook her head. “No.”

My chest ached. “Then why are you running?”

Jada exhaled, voice breaking. “Because I don’t know how to stop.”

I took a step closer. “Then let me help you.”

She met my eyes, something fragile and hesitant in her expression. “You’d do that?”

I nodded. “I never stopped wanting to.”

For the first time in weeks, her walls cracked. Just a little.

And that was all I needed.

⸻

That night changed everything.

Jada wasn’t perfect. She was still stubborn, still hesitant. But the ice between us finally thawed.

We started talking again, first in small moments—passing comments in practice, subtle acknowledgments in the locker room. Then longer conversations, sitting next to each other at team dinners, lingering after practice just to be near each other.

It wasn’t an immediate fix.

But it was something.

And then one night, after another late practice, we ended up walking back to the dorms together.

We stopped outside my door, silence stretching between us.

I turned to her, searching her face. “You still scared?”

Jada held my gaze, then shook her head. “Not as much.”

I smiled, reaching for her hand. “Good.”

She squeezed my fingers. “I’m trying.”

“I know.”

She hesitated. “Do you think we’ll ever get this right?”

I squeezed back. “I think we’re already starting to.”

For the first time in weeks, she smiled.

And this time, she didn’t run.

To Be Continued…

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-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

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