She looked like an artist.
Or a goddess.
I was never much for sitting on the bench when I could be in the middle of the action, but tonight, I wanted her to have this moment for herself.
So I sat.
“You’re playing back-to-back games,” Nova murmurs when she sees me.
“You had your first gallery show. I needed to be here.”
She smiles, her eyes shining under the streetlights, raindrops collecting on her lashes.
Which parts of her created which parts of me? Because I wasn’t this man a year ago. Didn’t feel these feelings before her.
“These are for you.” I hold out the daisies—the largest bouquet I could order within walking distance of the gallery. “You always said they reminded you of home. Thought you might appreciate the reminder in the big city.”
Nova takes them, her slow smile and the way she cradles them in her arms making me glad I tried three different florists to find exactly the right ones.
“Who was the guy who just left?” I ask.
She huffs out a breath. “Brad.”
“Your asshole ex Brad?” I spin on my heel to see if he’s still out there, ready to do some damage.
“Don’t even think about it.” She tugs me inside.
We walk around the gallery, Nova telling me about each piece.
She’s beautiful and alive, her creations on the wall. Leaving pieces of her soul on the canvas the way I leave mine on the court.
“This never would have happened without you.”
“Yeah, it would’ve.”
“No, I mean it.” Her brows pull together. “You pushed me, made me believe I could be the kind of artist to have an exhibition.”
“You always saw people better than I did.”
“I see other people. You saw me.”
As a pro athlete, I’m used to my body hurting. Around her, parts of me that usually hurt feel better, and the ones I never noticed stretch and break.
I turn over what she said earlier. “So, your ex”—I can’t bring myself to say his name—“you have much to talk about?”
Nova snorts. “He showed me the things I wanted in my life.”
What the fuck? She’s not seriously forgiving him.
My gut twists, hard enough I think I’ll be sick on the sidewalk.
Maybe she’s moved on, wants different things than I thought.
“Did you eat?” she asks.
I shake my head. “Feel like Italian?”
We finish the exhibition, and the gallery owner starts to close up. Nova thanks the owner and discusses business for a bit, then she and I head over to my favorite restaurant in the city a few blocks away.
With help from the owner, we slip into a back corner table to order drinks and dinner.
“What happened to eating healthy during the season?” she teases after I put in my request for fettucine alfredo.
“Gotta live a little.”
We eat, but I’m barely tasting the food. I’m too focused on her.
The curve of her cheek.
The humor in her eyes.
The knowledge I could lean over and brush my mouth over hers.
That I’d give millions to do exactly that right this moment.
“You said the ex showed you what you wanted?” I pretend it’s a casual question. It means everything.
The past few weeks, I’ve been realizing how important Nova is. She’s the one who holds things together for me, who keeps me from being unhealthily obsessed with basketball. Not by pulling me away from it, but by reminding me how beautiful the rest of the world is.
“A home. A family. A place where I can do my art and explore the world.”
“You want those things with him?”
She blinks. “No. He showed me what I want by giving me what I didn’t.”
Relief slams into me, but it’s short lived.
“I didn’t give you that either,” I admit. “I should have been there for you. When things got hard, I shut down and shut you out. I stopped being there for you when everything you did was for me. I’m sorry. I’m still working on it, but my therapist helped me figure out some of it. I’ve made appointments every couple of weeks for the future.” I huff out a breath. “I was in a bad spiral. Like I was living in the middle of a storm I couldn’t get out of. And no matter how much was good, I couldn’t see my way through.”
“I keep wondering if I could’ve helped you more.”
“No. You’re not responsible for the clouds. You’re my rainbow, Pink. You’re the good that comes after.”
Her eyes soften.
We eat our dinner, and I remember how good it feels to spend time with her. It’s not even about sex but just enjoying her company, how relaxed I am when she’s near.
When the waiter comes with the bill, I hand him a credit card. After I pay, we head out, walking side by side.
I’m suddenly serious. “Before I met you, I thought life was as good as it would get unless I landed a title. You turned that upside down. Made me realize how much I have to learn about life and basketball. I wasn’t the best player I could be, and I sure as hell wasn’t the best man. You matter more than any championship. If you give me a chance, I wanna win you back. Slow and steady. You’re my endgame, Nova, and I’m going to show you what that means.”
Nova’s silent, her brows pinched together.
It’s driving me crazy not knowing where her head’s at.
If she’s losing her mind being this close to me, like I am with her.
I reach for her wrist, tugging her to a stop and forcing her to look up at me.
I’m a foot taller, but she’s the one weighing me. Measuring me. Evaluating whether I’m worth taking a chance on.
She peers up at me from under her lashes. “Are you going back to Denver tonight?”
I reach for the back of her neck, tugging her close enough our noses bump.
“You tell me.”
22
NOVA
The second the elevator doors slide closed, he’s tugging me against him.
Clay bends to brush his lips across mine, once, then again.
“I missed you,” he whispers, cupping my face with his hands. The tension in his voice winds me tighter.
I circle his wrists with my fingers. “I’m right here.”
The doors ding open, and I lead the way to my room and fumble for the key in my bag.
His chest is pressed to my back, like some huge bodyguard who’d protect me from the world.
The door light flashes green and Clay reaches past me to push the handle.
One step inside, we’re a tangle of limbs.
I drop the daisies on the floor. We trip over them, my heels catching on the carpet.
“I will try every day to be the kind of man who’s worthy of you,” he murmurs against my mouth. “I don’t care how long it takes.”
I wrap my arms around his muscled neck. His fingers stroke beneath the straps on my dress.
Every touch is reverent.
He’s more vulnerable than the man I met. I’m stronger than the woman I was.
I want him close enough he’s part of me and I’m part of him. So nothing and no one can separate us. Not even one another.