Since I signed here, Harlan and I have had our problems, but the Kodiaks owner is a whole other issue.
He has a reputation for wanting control, and for collecting pretty things: houses, boats, a couple of islands. His money came from family and finance, and everyone was surprised when he bought the franchise because no one knew he was even a basketball fan.
But so far, he’s been willing to fund the budget for a growing team, so people keep quiet about the rest.
I don’t like that he approached Nova. I don’t want him thinking he can collect her.
End of the first half, we’re fist-bumping on the way to the locker room.
“That was impressive. If you were watching the offensive end,” Coach says to me.
“Coach, we’re up by twelve.”
“We could be up by twenty-five if you played defense.”
I drop a towel over my head and breathe in. Adrenaline pumps in my veins as my body recovers from the effort.
Suddenly, I’m not thinking of the game but of Nova. Yesterday, I wanted to help with the wall because I wanted to make her life a little easier.
It felt good to solve a problem that would’ve taken longer and been harder for her without me.
I know she wants to be independent, but it was a favor.
I'm tall.
Plus, I liked the excuse to spend time with her, to watch her work.
I sent her a text before tip-off to ask how the wall was received by Parker—because it was the right thing to do, not because I can’t stand to go back to us not speaking.
“Less showboating, more defense in the second half,” Coach demands of everyone before putting in a hand. “Kodiaks on three.”
On the way back out, I notice Coach rubbing his chest.
“You good?” I ask.
He drops the hand. “I’ll be fine if you all go out there and do your job.”
We’re back out there, changing ends and paying more attention to their end of the court. Atlas gets a block, and Miles grabs the rebound, hurling the ball toward a sprinting Rookie at the other end.
The crowd erupts.
“Hell yeah.” I clap Rookie on the back as we trot toward the other end.
From then on, we’re looking to score.
There’s a moment when they make a push in the fourth.
But when the final whistle blows, we win by eight.
Back in the locker room, we expect to see Coach happy with the win.
Instead, he’s seething.
“Should’ve been more. And you"—Coach turns to Rookie—"you can’t guard, you won’t get anywhere in this league.”
I step between them. “He scored twenty-five tonight. Back off.”
The room goes silent.
“For that, you’ll both sit next game,” Coach growls.
Rookie and the guys trail out, most of them heading for the gym we always hit after home games.
I’m still staring. “Coach, come on. Don’t bench me. It’s bad for the team.”
“You’re right. I’ll bench him.”
My mouth falls open.
“You’re a team. You didn’t listen as a team, so the team gets the consequences. This shit might fly with Utah, but it won’t work against LA in four months.”
I stomp toward the gym after my teammates.
“What happened?” Rookie asks.
“You’re benched,” I say.
“What?!”
The guys look confused and dejected.
“Enough,” I grunt. “This was a win. Treat it like one.”
I pull up my phone and send a five-grand transfer to Rookie.
“You did what I said. And you showed up Utah.”
His expression brightens.
They get back to their exercises, but I’m still in a bad mood.
Still no response from Nova.
I shove down the disappointment and force myself to go through the workout.
I’m completely focused—until my phone buzzes next to me while I’m doing pull-downs.
It’s only my agent congratulating me on the game, and I tell the disappointment to back the fuck off.
“You wanna spot me?” Jay asks.
I step toward him, hovering behind the barbell as he lifts it from the cups.
Miles hollers, grabbing my shoulder. “Brooke wants everyone to go out to Harrison King’s club. There’s some DJ playing she wants to see.”
“Lots of girls?” Rookie asks hopefully, finishing his set and grabbing a water bottle.
“So many. I could have a threesome in the bathroom,” Miles comments gleefully, his phone still in his hand. “Wade looks like he could use one of those. Plenty of girls would like you to after how it went down tonight.”
“Not in the mood,” I grunt. What I need is an ice bath and a massage.
“Is Chloe going?” Rookie asks.
Jay pushes out another rep, grinning through the effort. “She’d chew you up and spit you out.”
“She loved the book I got her.”
“She was being nice.” Jay counters.
“We’re doing a buddy read.” Rookie’s grin turns smug. “If she’s thinking of chewing me up and spitting me out, she sure seems to like how I taste.”
Jay’s face darkens as he grits out his final rep.
Miles types some more, then grins. “Nova’s going.”
I straighten so fast I nearly drop the barbell Jay passes to me. “How do you know?”
“I asked.” He flashes his phone at me so fast I only see her name at the top and bright symbols on the screen.
I don’t know if I’m more jealous she’s talking to him or that their text chain is full of emojis. Who knew yellow smileys could make me feral?
“You coming?” Miles asks me again.
I yank a clean towel off the shelf and rub it over my face.
“Yeah, I might stop by.”
7
NOVA
I scrub the flakes of paint off my skin. Hot water streams over my body, a cozy reward for a job well done.
The team got a win, but I didn’t stick around to celebrate. Instead, I went straight back to Brooke’s to shower.
When I step out, there’s a figure standing in the doorway of the bathroom.
I shriek. “Dammit Brooke! You scared the shit out of me.”
“We’re going out.” She passes me a towel, and I wrap it around myself. Any boundaries about nudity were broken down within the first three days when I realized Brooke is entirely unselfconscious and assumes everyone else is too.
“It’s Tuesday.”
“Tuesday gets a bad rap. And I got a new advertiser.”
“Amazing!” I grab a second towel and wrap it around my damp hair.
“Did James like the pics you sent?”
“He said it’s a start.” I put the finishing touches on the skyline today, the polishing and shading that made it extra realistic. “Now I need to figure out what’s next.”
I wipe a spot on the mirror clean of steam and moisturize my face.
The next phase, we agreed, is painting the players in action. I’ve sketched a few options, but nothing’s coming together yet.
Brooke’s face appears behind me. “You need inspiration. This club is the hottest thing. I’ll let you raid my closet,” she promises.