I miss the old me, but my body feels light with hope that I’m on the way back to him.
My chair is the first on the bench after the coaching staff and my feet have been bouncing with energy for the entire first quarter as I attempt to stay seated.
Leon started, but he’s been struggling. More so on defense. He’s a hell of a shooter and can create a play especially with the other talent he’s got out there on the court, but he’s up against one of the best point guards in the league with Toronto’s starter.
It’s much harder for him to see the court the way I do, but that’s what years of experience earns you. For now, I can be his eyes.
Leon gets pulled at the end of the first quarter to start his first break of the game, and with a single domineering “move” to the guy next to me, suddenly the chair to my right opens for him to take a seat.
He leans in close, trying to hear me over the packed arena.
“You’re doing good,” I reassure.
He exhales heavy breaths. “He’s a step ahead of me every time he drives the lane.”
“That’s because you expect him to go right, but he prefers the left. Every time. And yes, he’s faster than you. That’s just a fact, so take a gamble and cheat that way. Best-case scenario, you’ll stop him from driving the lane. Worst-case scenario you let him take you on the right and you learn for the next time. He’s also got a hell of a tell. Whichever way he’s attempting to drive he slightly shifts his weight on the ball of that foot for half a second. Barely visible. Look for it.” I pat him on the back. “You’ve got this.”
The next time Leon is back on the court, he takes away the left and throws Toronto’s point guard off-balance long enough to strip the ball. The time after that, he watches his opponent’s feet with precision and the moment he shifts his weight, Leon is able to cut him off and get a hand on a sloppy pass, causing a turnover that the Devils recover.
I might not be out there, but holy hell this feeling is almost as euphoric as if I were the one making the plays myself.
The next dead ball, Leon looks over like an excited little kid who just made his first bucket. It’s charming and sweet, and I’m proud as hell of him.
My coach walks by with a pat on my shoulder. “Nice work, Shay.”
After the postgame interviews and celebratory speeches in the locker room, I head out with my suitcase in tow, determined to find Indy before getting on the team bus and heading to the airport. I want to see her in my space. She looks good here.
She looks good everywhere.
And as I turn the corner out of the locker room, I’m pleasantly surprised to find Indy outside of the family waiting room.
Stevie and my parents have been down here countless times, but I never thought I’d have someone else waiting for me. And Indy of all people, my sister’s best friend. Fucking stunner wearing my jersey.
“I didn’t know where I should go. Annie told me to come down with her, but she and the kids went home already, and now I feel like I’m intruding,” Indy quickly explains as I swallow up the space between us.
“You’re in the exact right place.”
Leaving my suitcase, I swing my arms over her shoulders as she runs her palms over the column of my spine. “Good game.”
“Thank you.” I almost want to remind her I didn’t play, but she knows. Instead, I take the compliment.
Pulling back, I brush her hair away from her face and press my lips to hers. She smiles into me, instantly reassured of how much I want her here.
I lean back slightly to check her out again. “You look good wearing my last name, Blue.”
That megawatt smile blooms as Indy pulls me into her and deepens our kiss, her back hitting the waiting room wall, and I couldn’t be more thankful that Ethan’s kids are gone for the night.
Nothing about this moment is feeling very PG, but I couldn’t care less. No one is around to see it and I have to get on a plane and leave her for the week.
“Shay,” I hear from across the hall. Pulling away from Indy, I look over my shoulder to find Ron Morgan.
Clearing my throat and wiping my lips, I straighten. “Sir.”
“Nice work tonight. Carson did a hell of a job thanks to you. That’s the kind of leader I was looking for.” He nods towards my girl. “Indy, good to see you.”
She cowers, trying to hide her flushed cheeks from being caught mid-make-out by my boss. “You too, Mr. Morgan.”
“All right, you two.” He waves us off, turning his back and heading down the hall. “Don’t let me keep you from going at it. I hope to see you in Phoenix, Indy!”
We chuckle into each other, her forehead falling into my chest. Ironically, for the first time, none of that was planned for Ron to see.
It was for us.
She sighs a happy little sigh, arms slinging around my neck. “What’s in Phoenix?”
“You. Me. Our trips overlap there for the day. He and Caroline were hoping to get together if it works for your schedule.”
“Do you want to?”
If she asked me this a couple of months ago, I would’ve said yes instantly. I wanted to impress my boss, try to show him I’m not as much of a loner as he made me out to be. Now, I still want to say yes, but only because it means more time spent with her.
“I want to only if you’re up for it. I know you’ll be working, but if you’re free, then yes, I’d love to see you.”
“And the Morgans.”
I roll my eyes. “And the Morgans.”
Looking down, I catch Indy wearing her embroidered Converse tonight. I love her in heels and a dress, but equally love her dressed down.
Slipping my foot between hers, I nudge her feet apart to find a new addition to her shoes. Right there, inside of the left ankle is an embroidered basketball with my number and a heart stitched into the center of it.
“When did that get there?” I ask, loving the way my name and number look all over her.
“This afternoon. I thought it was about time.”
My stare breaks from her feet to find her smiling proudly, wearing my favorite emotion of hers—joy.
“It was about damn time.”
Leaning down, I take her mouth again. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to having the privilege of kissing this girl. I hadn’t kissed a woman for so long that being touched by her, wanted by her is almost too much. What in the world did I do to deserve her wanting me?
“Walk me to the team bus?” I take my suitcase in one hand and hers in the other.
We’re barely out of the back entrance of the arena, and I hear him long before I see him. He tugs at Indy’s arm before I can register what’s happening.
“Indy.”
Her hand tightens in mine at the sound of her name. “Alex,” she breathes out. “What are you doing here?”
He’s still holding on to her elbow, gently. Longingly.
I brush his hand off her, keeping my voice calm and even. “Don’t fucking touch her.”
Instinctively, I shift my body, putting myself between them.
Metaphorically and physically, I want to be between them. He will have to get through me to get to her and that won’t ever fucking happen.
“Okay.” He puts his hands up in surrender before redirecting his attention to the blonde beauty behind me. “Indy, we need to talk.”