Long Shot(57)

I want to believe him. He’s never hurt me like this on purpose before.

“I understand the pressure, but . . .” I drop my eyes to the floor. “I saw my mom and aunt take a lot of crap from men when we were growing up. I have no tolerance for it.”

“It won’t happen again.” He takes a deep breath, as if clearing the air. “Now that we got that out of the way, would you come to tonight’s game? It would mean a lot to have you and Sarai in the stands for me.”

“Sure.” I slide my hands into the back pockets of my jeans. “Who are you guys playing?”

“The San Diego Waves,” he says, watching my face closely as if for a reaction, one I refuse to give him, but inside my heart stutters and thumps.

So much for avoiding August.

13

August

“Hey, West. You got a second?”

I turn to face Deck. In addition to being the San Diego Waves’ president of basketball operations, he’ll also be first-round Hall of Fame. When he calls, you answer.

I hang my coat up in the locker and meet his eyes over my shoulder. A few guys mill around the Baltimore Stingers’ guest team locker room, but for the most part, we have this corner to ourselves.

“Yeah?” I stopped trying to call him ‘sir’ long ago. “What’s up?”

“I know this is a big game.”

No game is a big game because it’s almost the end of the season, and we’ve got an icicle’s hope in hell of making the playoffs. It feels like the last few games don’t matter since there won’t be a post-season for us. We’re an expansion team, so that’s to be expected in our first year, but it still bites with teeth.

I’ve never been on a losing team in my life. The fierce competitor in me has never allowed that to happen. I’ve always been able to pull any team I was on across every finish line—first. But this is the NBA. Every man out there is the best in his neighborhood, the best in his high school and college. One man can do a lot, but in this league, one man can never do it all.

“What’s so special about this game, Deck?” I close the locker and turn to face him.

“For one, you’re playing in your hometown,” Deck says. “I assume your family will be here to see you.”

I allow a genuine smile, thinking of my mom and stepfather in the stands tonight. “Yeah, they’ll be here. My mom’s invited the team over for dinner after the game since we don’t fly out ’til morning. You’re welcome to come.”

“Nah.” An almost sheepish smile looks out of place on the strong planes of his face. “I’m flying to New York to see my girl, but thank your mother for me.”

Deck and Avery make long-distance love look easy, though I’m sure it has its challenges. “Give Avery my best.” I shoot him a knowing grin.