Heartache and Hope (Heartache Duet #1) - Jay McLean Page 0,60

back. “Good luck, okay?”

I pull her back to me, not caring who’s watching, and plant a kiss on her lips, passionate and painfully perfect.

Just like her.

Sweat drips down my forehead and into my eyes, and I blink it back, pour water over my face. It’s our last timeout of the game, and I’ve given it everything I have. Our score reflects that, and so does the burn in every one of my muscles. My chest heaves, my shoulders, too. Flames fire in my lungs, and Coach looks at me. “You want out?”

“No, sir.”

“You haven’t had a minute off, Ledger. It won’t break you.”

I swallow between shallow breaths. “I’m good.” Then I look up at Dad watching from the stands, his arms crossed. He nods, a show of encouragement. And then he smiles at me, and I’m reminded of all the times he’s been there, all the times he’s done exactly this—even before the end game. “You got it, son!” he shouts loud enough to hear over the chanting of the crowd.

“You okay, man?” Rhys asks.

“Yeah.” I shake off all other thoughts. “I’m good. Let’s do this.”

We’re only on the court for another two minutes before the final buzzer sounds. I shake hands with the other team and then rush to the bench so I can sit down, give my body time to recover. Elbows on my knees, I hunch over myself and towel the sweat off my face. “Good job, Ledger,” Coach says. “You really turned it on tonight.”

“Thanks, Coach.”

I stay on the bench longer than the rest of the team. While they leave to hit the showers and the crowd starts to depart, I let my muscles start to solidify again. I’d been weak, weaker than I should be, and I make a promise to start hitting the gym more and working on my stamina. I should be focusing on sprint sets rather than long distance.

“Connor?”

I look up to see Principal Brown and a man I’ve never met before standing over me. I get to my feet. “Yes, sir?”

Brown smiles, waving a hand to the man next to him. “This is Tony Parsons. From Duke. He wanted a word with you.”

My pulse picks up pace, as if I’m on the court again, overtime, two points down and I’m at the three-point line, ball in my hand. “It’s good to meet you, sir,” I say, shaking his hand.

“Likewise,” he responds. “That’s quite a shiner you’ve got there.”

“Yeah, it’s…”

“It’s one of the hazards of basketball, right, son?” Brown says.

I nod, grateful for his response.

Parsons continues, “Well, Connor, have you ever thought about playing for Duke?”

“Only when I’m breathing.”

He smiles, then opens his mouth, but I interrupt, my finger up between us. “Sorry, just one second.”

I look up at the stands, at one of the only people left—my dad. His eyes are wide, clear. “Dad!” I wave him over and watch as he makes his way toward us. Then I turn back to the scout. “This is my dad,” I tell him. “I uh…” I give him the truth that, lately, I’d been too stubborn to realize. “I just like to have him around.”

“It’s not like I’m going to get my hopes up or anything,” I say into the phone, pacing my room, the adrenaline inside me still pulsing.

“You should totally get your hopes up,” Ava encourages. “I mean, it’s Duke.”

“Yeah, but do you know how many scouts they have looking for high school ballers? I’m, like, one in hundreds these scouts would be talking to.”

“Connor,” she laughs out. “You’re looking at it wrong. You’re one in only hundreds that they’re talking to. That’s a big deal no matter how much you try to downplay it.”

I hold the phone to my ear, and pick up a ball, then spin it on the tip of my finger. “I guess.”

“I’m proud of you,” she says, and I can hear the genuine honesty in her voice.

I drop the ball to the floor and sit on the edge of the bed. “It wouldn’t have happened without you.”

“Well, technically, if you think about it…” she trails off.

“How did you get us back in, anyway?”

“I told you.”

“Ava…”

She giggles into the phone, causing my chest to ache in longing. I wish she were here. In my bed. So I could see her. So I could run my hands through her curls and kiss her and hold her and maybe fool around a little. “I just wrote him a heartfelt letter about what had been going on and how you