“Because you’re still planning on making the jump to LA.”
“Eventually. It’s taking longer than I figured.”
I try not to think too hard about that. When I first met him, Mari’s wedding was our expiry date. This new one looming over us is messier because neither of us knows when it might come.
Somehow, it makes me bolder.
“If we do this, I want to be exclusive,” I say.
Clay brushes the hair from my face, stroking his thumb down my cheek. “So, no more Kodashians?”
I shake my head, and he laughs.
“What’s so funny?” I demand.
“I haven’t touched another woman since I laid eyes on you, Pink.”
Well, damn. Didn’t expect that to feel as good as it does.
“Okay, then. So, in public, we’re discreet,” I say.
“In private, you’re mine.”
Something about the way he says it makes me want to plaster my body to his and let him do whatever he wants with me.
He lifts my chin with a finger. “You like sneaking around with me. It makes you hot.” He brushes his lips over mine.
“That’s not true,” I protest weakly.
“I feel you getting wet.” His hand grinds against my pussy through my pajama bottoms, and my eyes drift closed.
His mouth and touch are destroying me, making every part of my body light up with pleasure.
I’ve almost forgotten we’re in the dining room, my roommate a few feet away outside.
The slider door opens. “You two make up?”
“Yup,” Clay says at the same time I say, “For now.”
“Good. So, about Christmas?” Brooke asks again.
Clay drags me against him, wrapping his arms around me. “We’ll be there.”
15
CLAY
Basketball Christmas isn’t like normal Christmas.
The top teams play games on the day, then after we celebrate with our families.
I never really got the magic of it before this year, when I wake up in my own bed, Nova curled next to me.
“Merry Christmas,” I murmur in her ear, stroking her hair.
She huffs a breath but doesn’t move.
Damn, she’s gorgeous. Her hair is dark blond at the roots and pink at the tips, like some wild fairy's. I want to see her bright blue eyes blink up at me, wake her with my hands and lips, but I should let her sleep.
She’s been working late all week on the next section of her mural. Her talent is almost as impressive as her dedication.
I’ve been busy too.
The Kodiaks are sitting third in the Western Conference, surprising all the sportscasters and the oddsmakers.
Rookie is getting his shit together and has strung together some good solo performances, Miles is hitting every three-pointer he tries, and Jay’s held us together. My knee is as good as it’s been in months.
Yeah, we’ve had a lighter schedule for the past couple of weeks, with an extended homestand that wraps up today, but I know to take wins when we can get them and not question it.
I’ve never had someone in my life since I turned pro, but I can’t get enough of Nova. We don’t get as much time together as I want, but every second makes me crave her more.
I’m counting the firsts with her.
First time she slept over: last week.
First time I showed her pics of my family: this weekend.
First time I made her laugh so hard she cried: yesterday.
The other day, she told me she couldn’t come over because she was working, so I brought her dinner and made her sit down for twenty minutes so we could eat together.
The way she looked up at me with those big, blue eyes like I was the best thing to happen to her all day…
Fuck, a man could get used to that.
Every time she says my name, I’m a little less mine and a little more hers.
We’ve kept things effectively on the DL. No one’s mentioned the possessive way I look at her, how she smiles at me, the fact that I find any excuse to touch her.
Today will be another story, with all of us attending dinner with the team and Harlan. I still haven’t figured out the best way to deal with that situation.
Until I do, I’m ignoring it.
My phone is already blowing up with holiday greetings as I force myself out of bed to start my routine.
Kat: Merry Christmas, loser. I’ll try to watch the game.
I hit her contact.
“Wow, a call and everything?” she drawls.
“Merry Christmas, shrimp. Surprised you were up so early.”
“Andy was opening presents hours ago, like any self-respecting nine-year-old.”
Kat’s boyfriend has a couple years on me, and as much as that irritates me, he’s a decent guy. He’s raising a kid on his own after his wife died tragically, and I respect the way he looks out for his family. He also loves the hell out of Kat.
I miss my sister. She’s in grad school out east, and I’m here and everywhere. When we play in New York, I send tickets for her and, for the past year, for Daniel and Andy too.
“What else are you doing?” I ask.
“Mmm, nothing special. I’ll fill you in later.”
“Did you get the gifts I sent?” Matching designer sweaters for her and Daniel, plus a fun-sized basketball net with a bunch of limited-edition swag for the kid.
“I don’t think so.”
“It says it was delivered yesterday.”
“Oh.” Her voice sounds weird. “I gotta go, Clay. Merry Christmas.”
I say it back, and we click off.
“Merry Christmas. Happy Hanukkah. Best wishes to you and your family and everything you celebrate.” Miles dances around the court at shootaround, setting elf hats on heads.
He ends on Coach, who glares but holds out a hand.
“Less antics, more shooting,” Coach gripes.
“Why’re you so tense?” I demand.
“Nothing. Management and owners are at it again,” he amends at last, his voice low enough only I can hear.
He means Harlan and James.
I catch a stray ball and square to the basket, letting off a shot that swishes through the net.
“What are they fighting about?” I can’t resist asking. “The team is winning.”
“Harlan wants a deep run in the playoffs and is talking about trading a few pieces to set us up for the postseason. But Parker wants to double down on the winning now because he likes seeing his name in the news.”
The next ball comes to me, and I fire it on to Rookie to shoot.
“So, what’s the problem? Let them fight it out.”
“Problem is I get stuck in the middle like wadded up underwear.” He flashes teeth before turning to the other guys.
Coach is the only one in a bad mood. As fans flood the building, collecting the special “Beary Christmas” T-shirts Chloe had made for the thousands of spectators, there’s a decidedly celebratory vibe.
Jay nudges me. “If we win today, we’ll have as many wins as Vegas thought we’d have through all-star break.”
I know we've been beating expectations, but I try to tune out the noise like oddsmakers. Still, this is momentous.