But that’s the thing.
I do care. I cared in high school. I cared while he was away at college. I cared before he touched me for the first time. And I sure as hell care now.
Sensing my frustration, Theo tears his attention from the sky and looks at me. Then, he stands up and slaps the bill of the baseball hat I’d stolen from the back of his car.
I jerk in surprise and glare up at him. “What was that for?”
“Let’s play Horse.” He motions to the basketball court on his neighbor’s property.
It’s a full-size court, complete with outdoor lighting, fresh paint on the asphalt, and a small bin with a lid set back behind the hoop. It looks super nice, and since there aren’t any of our college friends hanging out on the premises, I assume it’s because the place is off-limits.
“Are we allowed to play Horse?” I ask.
He offers his hand and challenges, “Since when has obeying the rules held you back?”
I roll my eyes but take his hand and let him help me up, ignoring the heat seeping into my palm and causing goosebumps to race up my arm. I shouldn’t be surprised. I’ve always had this reaction with him, and after our little rendezvous in his spare bedroom, it’s only gotten worse.
Theo guides me to the basketball court and flips a switch on an outlet box beside the hoop. Outdoor lighting illuminates the painted asphalt. There’s a small bin on the outside perimeter of the court, and Theo opens it, tossing a basketball to me. I catch it on reflex, glancing at the darkened house on top of the sloped hill.
“Are you sure we won’t get in trouble?” I ask.
“They aren’t home. But even if they were, Mrs. Norman loves me and wouldn’t care.”
“You’re positive?” I reiterate.
He laughs and lifts his hands, gesturing for me to pass him the ball. “Yeah, Blake. I’m positive.”
The ball bounces once between us as I toss it to Theo. We take turns shooting it around the key. I’m a little rusty, but it doesn’t take long to find my rhythm, and soon, we’re hitting shots left and right.
After ten minutes or so, the tension from earlier starts to dissipate, and I’m reminded of how easy it is to be with Theo. How comfortable the silence is. How playful the banter can be. Well, at least when one of his previous conquests doesn’t interrupt.
It’s addictive.
“Man, I haven’t played basketball in forever,” I say.
“You’ve still got it,” he notes, watching me dribble the ball, pull up, and take a shot.
It swishes through the net with a satisfying whoosh.
He rebounds it before doing a layup, his arms flexing as he tosses the ball into the basket.
“You’re not too shabby yourself,” I reply. “Tell me. How does it feel to be good at everything you do?”
“I’m not good at everything I do,” he argues.
“Uh-huh. Sure. How many offers have you gotten for the NHL so far?”
“Before Colt came back to play again? Zero.”
“And after?” I prod, well-aware of how great his stats looked last season, let alone how good they’re looking with Colt back on the ice. Those two are like bread and butter together. Sure, before college, things took a bad turn when my dad died. His death didn’t only throw off Colt, causing him to spiral and quit the sport altogether. It also messed with Theo and everyone else on the team. After all, not only had Theo lost his coach, he’d lost his best friend too. The combination sent Theo’s stats into a nosedive right before the NHL’s draft.
And he wasn’t chosen.
Even from a distance, it killed me to watch him lose all he’d been working for. So he opted to go the NCAA route, instead. Now, things are back on track, and his dreams are actually reachable. The guy should be freaking out, not hiding behind his insecurities. To be honest, even with his history, I didn’t know he had insecurities. The guy’s a force to be reckoned with on and off the ice. He’s always been this way.
The bastard shoots me a look that makes my insides squirm but doesn’t answer my question, chasing after the basketball while choosing to ignore me.
“Oh, is someone being humble?” I tease. “It’s okay to admit you’re the cat’s pajamas, Teddy Bear. I just ran into Ash who confirmed Colt’s already received plenty of offers. I’m sure you have too.”
He shoots the ball from the side of the court but stays quiet.
“Honestly, it’s probably a good thing you’re anti-relationship,” I add. “Apparently, Colt and Ash have been trying to figure out how to do the long-distance thing next year or if they’re ready to jump in with both feet and move in together. It’s put Ash through the wringer. Has he talked to you about it at all?”
He moves to shoot the ball but stops short and looks at me, joking, “Did Ash send you to get information from me?” There’s a tightness in his expression making me pause.
“No?” I step closer and strip the ball from his grasp, demanding his full attention. “Is there any information I need to get from you? ‘Cause so help me, if Colt ruins his relationship with Ash––”
“Colt would do anything for Ash,” he interjects, “including taking a smaller contract to be with her if she wasn’t interested in moving far away. She has nothing to worry about.”
He steals the ball from me and takes a shot. Nothing but net.
I sigh, surprised by the tension that has worked its way into my shoulders. I force myself to relax. “I kind of told her the same thing. Doesn’t make it easy for Colt, though. Especially when he’s seeing all those salary and bonus numbers. It’s a lot to give up to be close to the woman he loves.”
“I guess so.”
“Is it why you keep women at a distance? So you won’t have to leave anyone behind when you go and become a big, famous hockey player?” I ask as he pulls up for another shot.
The ball arches through the air and bounces off the backboard, missing the basket by a millimeter.
He doesn’t chase after it. Instead, he turns to me and frowns. “Who says I won’t have to leave anyone behind?”
I jog toward the ball and rest it against my hip, more invested in our conversation than the game, but I don’t show it. This feels too personal. Too intimate somehow. Like we aren’t discussing hypotheticals. We’re discussing…more.
“Don’t get me wrong. I know you’re close with your parents and Macklin, but you guys still have your own lives, and they’ve known what your future was likely going to be after graduation since you were what? Twelve? With Ash, it’s a little different. She didn’t plan on falling for a guy who could up and move or be traded at any second. It’s a little tougher to wrap your head around, ya know?”
“I guess so,” he repeats. “How would you feel? Falling for a professional athlete?”
I shoot the ball, and it drops into the hoop with a swish. “You mean knowing I was always going to come second to his career?” I cut him off before he has a chance to answer. “Depends on how he handles it.”
“Like what?” Theo asks.
“Like…does he talk to me before making decisions? Is he open and honest? Does he look at opportunities like they’re his future or our future? That kind of thing. Not that it matters,” I rush out, hoping he isn’t getting the wrong idea or thinking I’m still fawning over the bastard. I force a smile and tear my attention from him and back to the basketball hoop.