When he pulls away, he says, “They want me in LA tomorrow.”
My brows shoot up. “That’s fast.”
“That’s business. Millions on every game. They don’t like to wait around.”
I shake my head and think about Brooke’s words.
“I was going to give that to you tonight.” He nods to the key he gave me earlier glinting dully on the kitchen island.
It would have been mine.
And now it’s not. This place isn’t.
“What can I do?” I ask.
Clay rubs a hand across the dark shadow along his jaw, his eyes swirling with emotion. His grip on me tightens. “You came here for your sister. You have a friend in Brooke. You didn’t sign on for this life.”
The silence is loud, a buzz that drowns out logic and time. My blood pounds in my veins.
“But?” I prompt.
“But I don’t want to lose you. Not tonight. Not like this.” He tugs on his hair in frustration. “With you, things are finally starting to make sense. The only time I used to feel right was on the court. You changed that.”
The opening in my ribs is like a rush of water released from a dam. Wild and chaotic, unsure of a destination, but crashing forward at breakneck speed.
“I can’t promise it will be easy…” he goes on.
His voice is already fading, drowned out by the hammering of my heart.
I’ve finally started to feel settled in Denver with family and friends.
Except…
A huge part of that is this man.
He’s the brightest part of my day, and his hard-won smiles light me up like nothing else. The way he holds me as if I’m the only thing that matters makes me feel for the first time like I do matter.
Like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.
My hands stroke up his chest, covering his heart.
“I’d love to come with you.”
2
NOVA
“I can’t believe you got us in on such short notice.”
“It’s my job.” The realtor flashes startlingly white teeth as she punches in the gate code from the driver’s side of her BMW.
“I know you said a condo is fine, but I wanted you to see what a house would look like, particularly given your generous budget. It’s furnished with four bedrooms, three baths, a pool, and a half basketball court.”
She parks and we get out of the car.
In the time she’s been taking me around LA, we’ve seen two places already, but neither felt like a place I could live. The first was stark and too perfect, like a museum without artifacts. The second was dark and stifling, the high ceilings unable to compensate for the slate finishes.
This one is beautiful, stucco with arched windows and a well-maintained garden.
I strip off my light sweater and tie it around my waist so I’m wearing only a tank top. If I needed a reminder we were in for a change, it hit me the moment I stepped off the plane.
The sunshine warms my face, the palm trees swaying in the breeze.
When we talked about me looking for a rental for us, Clay gave me a budget that made my eyes bug out.
If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s making a home when I’m transplanted. We’re building something new here, and I want it to feel welcoming from the start.
I pull out my phone to snap a picture, glancing at my texts.
Grumpy Baller: I’m holding your hand right now.
The message from Clay came through before I left on the plane.
I told him I’d fly commercial if only because it’s more environmentally friendly. So, he got me a first-class ticket and bought me seats 1A and 1B.
“So you’re not arguing with any attractive strangers,” he told me.
I follow the realtor inside to a bright foyer with warm wood floors and light spilling in everywhere. Beyond, the living room is furnished with a contemporary sitting area anchored by a sectional couch that looks as if it could fit an entire basketball team. I’m instantly charmed.
“It’s a relatively close drive to the arena,” she goes on.
“It’s beautiful. I don’t know what we’d do here with all this space,” I admit as I follow her through the floorplan.
“Have guests? Or kids?” she asks.
“Guests definitely.” I smile.
We haven’t talked about kids.
We haven’t even talked about how long we’re staying. Clay’s contract has an option this summer that, as I understand it, means he could leave LA if he wants.
This feels like a big leap. The other night at Clay’s apartment, it seemed like the only path forward. Now I’m realizing how crazy it was.
The kitchen is updated with warm gray counters and soft white cabinets, and the living room is huge with a vaulted ceiling and a chandelier, wood beams crossing the space. One of the bedrooms would make an amazing studio. It has a huge arched window and the same warm wood floors as the rest of the place, plus soft cream walls.
“I’ll admit I’m a basketball fan. I was excited to see the deal go through. Though it’s always a gamble messing with a team’s chemistry so close to the end of the season,” the realtor says as I look around.
“Of course,” I say as if I’ve already considered it at length.
Everything’s been such a whirlwind that I haven’t.
Though Brooke drove me to the airport and hugged me goodbye, I’m guessing none of the guys have done the same for Clay. Social media is blowing up with rumors about how long this has been in the works and whether this was a betrayal of the Denver guys who’d invested in Clay.
Although he hasn’t said anything about it, he must be hurting over it.
Neither Jay’s nor Miles’s social media profiles have mentioned the trade, not that I expected they would. While they’re both still following me, they unfollowed him.
“What do you think?” The realtor cuts into my thoughts.
“I really love it. I want to show Clay.” I want him to love it too. I pull out my phone and type up a text. “Could we get back in later today to see this again?”
“Of course.”
I want this change to be good for both of us. I’ll miss Brooke and the guys and my sister, but I can always visit. I want to do everything I can to make this easy for Clay.
“We used to move around a lot as kids,” I tell her. “When we packed up to move somewhere else, we always brought a piece of it with us.”
She smiles. “Like what?”
“Daisies.”
The realtor crosses to the bedroom window, pulls back the shutters, and opens the glass wide. She leans out and peers over the sill.
I follow her to the edge and look into the garden below. Dozens of sunny white-and-yellow blooms greet me.
“They grow like wildfire there.”
Hope sprouts from between my ribs.
We can do this. I’ll make it work for both of us.
3
CLAY
“Took you long enough.” The team’s GM welcomes me to the arena.
“If I’d come any sooner, I’d still have been wearing my clothes from last night.”