23
CLAY
Over the next few weeks, we win more than we lose.
The guys are slowly starting to trust me again—on the court and off it.
I’m trying to find time with each of the guys. Teaching Rookie to pick the moments to be patient and the ones to be aggressive. Getting Miles out of his head about his threes. Coordinating schemes with Jay to help the ball move more easily through the opposing defence. Finding Atlas the best spots to be on court so he doesn’t get caught a step behind.
Kyle seems to exist only to further his own goals and doesn’t care who he steps on to do it.
But I can handle it because Nova’s back in my life.
I bring coffee to her when she’s working in the studio. She comes to home games to cheer me on. After, I thank her appropriately for screaming until she’s hoarse by making her scream more.
She stays over a couple nights a week. It feels a bit like being kids in college, but I promised slow and steady, and that’s what I’m going to deliver.
Even if I want her to move back in with me immediately, I want her to feel secure and independent and not like she has to trade her world in for mine like she did last year.
The regular therapy sessions have been helping, but the season’s starting to heat up and there’s a long way to go.
As a way to offer a break and some off-court time, Harlan’s hosting New Year’s, and the entire team is invited.
“You got everything?” I ask Nova as she rounds to the passenger door of my car outside the home decor store.
“I think so.” She frowns. “I hope we have enough decorations.”
“It was a joke. You bring any more, we’re going to need another car.”
She arches a brow at me. “I want it to be perfect. Mari’s gone back to work, and she’s been so busy with Emily, I promised I’d take care of things.”
I take the bin from her, resting it on my hip, and wrap my other arm around her shoulders as we walk to the car.
Brooke and Chloe meet us at Harlan’s, and the girls decorate. I volunteer my services, and they seem to enjoy telling me what to do. By the time we’re done, the room is covered in gold stars plus a Kodiaks banner over the door.
“Does it look okay?” Nova asks, surveying her work.
“Better than okay,” Brooke insists. “Fuck those players—we’re the dream team.”
Nova laughs and I shake my head.
“Someone say, ‘New Year’s’?” A noisemaker shrills from the door, and we turn to see Miles. Waffles, wearing a little hat, scampers in.
Rookie follows, plus Jay and Chloe. Coach and his niece come too.
Within an hour, it’s officially a party.
Mari comes down from tending to Emily, and she makes careful conversation with Coach. Chloe’s dancing with Rookie, Jay glaring daggers over his beer.
Kyle shows, a woman under each arm. “Now we can start.” He grins. “Drinks?”
Brooke shows him where to go, eyeing up his company. “It was a plus-one.”
“I play basketball. I count in twos, baby.”
The girls laugh, but Brooke rolls her eyes.
“Kyle’s what I thought players would be like,” Brooke confides when she finds me in the corner.
“He’s getting more out of control every day,” I answer.
“What do you mean?”
It’s not like me to talk trash about my group, but Brooke is an insider. She gets it.
“He looks off the younger guys who’re in a better scoring position. Skips defensive coverages altogether. Bails on tape sessions with weak-ass excuses.”
“The other guys think so too?” she asks.
“The other guys think what?” Miles asks, appearing at her shoulder from nowhere.
“Kyle,” I say.
“He’s not the easiest. But he scores points.”
He continues on his way, but Brooke lingers, arms folded as she watches Kyle and the girls.
“I don’t like the way he cornered her at his Halloween party and hit on her. She was super uncomfortable.”
“Are you serious?”
Brooke’s eyes widen. “You didn’t know.”
Rage rises up from deep in my gut.
Abandoning Brooke and her protests, I cross to Kyle, ignoring the women at his side. “You go near Nova again, you’ll be out of the game longer than Coach.”
“Whatever she said, it’s lies. I didn’t fucking touch her.”
I hit him.
Kyle trips backward, reeling. Then he hits me back. I drop my shoulder and run at him, shoving him into the table, which cracks under his weight. He lands in the middle of the cake.
Nova gasps in disbelief. “What the hell is going on?”
Upstairs, the baby starts crying.
“I didn’t think we’d be doing this. Especially off the court,” Coach says.
I’m in the kitchen, braced against the marble island.
Kyle’s in the other room, nursing a black eye with the help of his two girls.
“I can’t believe you did that,” Nova murmurs, holding an ice pack to my swelling knuckles. “I know you’ve been having trouble in games and practice, but why would you hit him?”
“Brooke told me what he said to you.”
Her expression hardens. “I handled it.”
“But you could’ve not. Why didn’t you tell me?”
She swears under her breath. “Isn’t it obvious? You’re better than this, Clay. You hit him. At my sister’s party. With her baby upstairs.”
Guilt and shame creep in. “I was thinking of you.”
“I need you to think of them too, because they’re my family.”
I exhale hard. I want to argue about this but from the expression on her face, that’ll get me nowhere.
I go in search of Harlan. Instead, I find Mari in the garage, bouncing the baby.
“What are you…?”
“It’s quiet,” Mari says.
The guilt comes back. “That was out of line.”
Her eyes widen a little.
“The table…” I hitch a thumb over my shoulder. “I’ll replace it. And anything else we broke.”
“You don’t need—"
“I will. I’m sorry.”
When I go back inside, Nova’s in the kitchen alone, pacing. “Have you seen Mari?”
“Hey. She’s in the garage taking a breather. I told her I fucked up and I’d make it up to her.”
Her eyes widen. “You did?”
“Yeah.” I’m not sure how yet, but…
Nova presses up onto her toes and kisses me. “Thank you.”
Her eyes are big and wide and full of emotion.
Well, shit. Maybe there’s something to humility.
“I’m not apologizing to Kyle, though.”
Her hands find my biceps, her cool fingers digging into my skin. “You shouldn’t hit people.”
Her voice is breathier than it was a second ago.
“Oh, really?”
It might be cold outside, but the air between us is thick.
Nova nods.
“Then why are you looking at me like that, Pink?”