But the antics don’t seem to hurt us. Everyone is in a festive spirit, the fans flowing into the seats singing carols that fill the stadium.
From the opening tip-off, we’re dialed in. Our opponents are too, and all of us throw everything we have into the game. It’s playoff-like energy against a strong Boston team, and we scrap the entire way.
During a timeout, we’re catching our breath when I see Miles looking up at the stands.
Halfway up the first section are Brooke and Nova and Mari.
It’s good to see my girl in the stands. I like knowing she’s there while I do what I was put on this earth to do.
All the way through the end of the second quarter, I focus on the fact that my girl is here.
I play my mind out.
The crowd hollers and swells, and anytime I look up to see her, she’s on her feet.
“Go, Clay!”
The voice hollers at halftime when we’re heading back to the locker room via the tunnel, and I look up into the crowd and see Kat and Daniel and Andy.
Andy bounces on his feet as he sees me noticing. Kat waves, and I grin.
Sneaky sister.
I didn’t expect her to surprise me like this.
Looking between her and Nova and my guys, I can’t remember the last time I was this happy, on the court or off it.
In the second half, we're even more dominant than in the first.
There are some tricky spots, but we couldn’t play any better.
When I look back up toward Nova, she’s smiling at me. I give it right back to her before I realize it’s not only the girls in those seats this time.
Harlan’s next to them, watching me steadily.
I shove down the discomfort and concentrate back on the huddle.
We get the win, and the building erupts in red and green and gold streamers. They don’t go with the Kodiaks' purple, but no one cares.
NOVA
“Get in!” Mari nods toward the passenger side of the car as we bounce into the parking garage after the game. “Harlan will meet us at home.”
Today might be a holiday, but there’s a lot at stake.
I haven’t had Christmas with my sister in a few years, plus Harlan and the entire team are involved.
Including the guy I’m secretly dating.
But no big deal.
I eye the back seat filled with wrapped gifts, but I squeeze into the passenger seat. “That was an incredible game. You a fan yet?”
“It’s growing on me,” she admits. “It helps that the team is having a good season.”
“Harlan relaxing a few notches?”
“Never.” She grins as she backs out of the spot.
I’m grateful we’re in the team section because it’s easier to get out. The garage is full of honking people wishing one another well.
Mari cuts me a look as she waits for the gate to rise so we can turn onto the street. “Thank you for being so excited about the team. I get that sports aren’t your thing.”
“It’s the family business now,” I counter.
“Well, I’m proud of you for doing the art. Harlan said it’s going to be incredible.”
The drive is easy, tiny flecks of snow making it feel extra festive.
My mural is growing and evolving every day.
So are things between me and Clay.
When he’s in Denver, he’s attentive, but the sport is grueling for the players. I have new appreciation as I see it up close. All the ice baths and massages and physio in the world can’t fix the toll it takes on the human body.
He’s opening up more to me. He lives in his head, but I feel as if I have a pass to peek inside.
Maybe not an all-access pass, but I don’t think he’s ever given one.
And as for the secrecy, I honestly like that we’re privately an item.
He’s a magnet for attention, good and bad. Being with him means getting swept into the same storm.
I’m still figuring out how to navigate my own life, not to mention his.
The winning streak for the team is a plus. But every time I check the standings, I’m reminded LA is even higher.
Clay’s dream.
His destination.
His legacy.
He watches every one of their games, studying the players and the schemes.
I don’t know what that means for him or for us, but I try to enjoy what we have and not think too hard about it.
When we arrive at Harlan’s house, a huge catering truck is out front.
“You weren’t going to cook for thirty?” I tease.
“Do you remember when we tried to cook for ten at the trailer? We nearly burned it down.”
I help her carry the presents inside, laughing the entire time.
An hour later, Mari and I have changed outfits. She’s wearing a cozy white cashmere sweater, and I’m in a black dress and tights. We’ve fluffed the place and put all the gifts under the huge tree.
“We’re heeeere!” Chloe is the first to arrive, bursting in the door with Jay and Brooke in tow.
I’m stunned to see the elegant head of PR wearing dangly red bulb earrings plus an antler headband and a sweater with a Kodiaks bear twisted up in a strand of lights.
Mari stares too. “Who are you, and what have you done with Chloe?”
“Let me be the first to tell you,” Jay says solemnly, “this woman is a Christmas fiend. Every year she’s body-snatched by a giant elf and doesn’t return until New Year's.”
Coming in the door after are Rookie and Miles with Waffles in his arms. When he sets the Frenchie down, I get a good look at his knitted black and gold sweater with H’s emblazoned on every inch.
Chloe slaps two bottles of red wine against Jay’s chest. “Kitchen. Holiday sangria. Now.”
Jay straightens to his full height—he’s shorter than the other guys but still plenty tall to look down at his ex with amusement.
“You’re not the boss of me, elf. We’re not dating.”
She smiles sweetly. “No, but I remember where your balls are, and my nails will be in them in five seconds if you don’t follow orders.”
He lifts both bottles in a sign of grudging surrender, then steps out of his boots and crosses to the other room.
“I’m turning on the game,” Rookie says, heading for the big-screen TV in the living room.
I frown. “I thought the game is over.”
“The LA game,” chorus Jay from the kitchen, Chloe from the dining room, and Harlan, Rookie, and Miles in here.
Coach and Harlan are in the door next.
Everyone’s here except for Clay.
My phone buzzes.
Grumpy Baller: Hey, can you ask Mari if there’s room for three more?
Surprise hits me.
I didn’t talk to him after the game except to send a text saying congrats. I knew he’d be here when he got through his post-routine and media, but now I’m wondering what’s up.
I go to the kitchen. “Hey, Mar? Clay’s asking if he can bring three people.”
“Sure.”
I’m halfway out the door when she calls after me. “Wait, why did he ask you?”
My heart kicks in my chest.
Because we talk every day. Most nights, I fall asleep in his arms. In the morning, I wake up to his heavy breathing. I’m totally falling for him, and I can’t help it.