I gritted my teeth and stepped under the basket to retrieve the ball.
To be quite honest, I’d played point guard. My strength had always been figuring out who to pass the ball to. Even so, I dribbled around him and feinted left before whirling around to shoot right.
It bounced off the rim, and he and his entourage all laughed.
I reached for the ball, but he easily grabbed it above my head. His eyes met mine. He was enjoying this entirely too much, like a predator toying with his prey. It made me want to tell him to pick on someone his own size, but I’d chosen this smackdown.
He made a drive for the basket. I threw an elbow.
Swoosh.
I took the ball and dribbled out from under the net while he preened for his friends. He took his time advancing because he thought there was no way I could make a three-pointer when I couldn’t make a shot under the basket.
Or could I?
I knew something Ezekiel Angelo did not know: I was what they like to call a gamer. Adrenalin was my friend. It helped me do the improbable, if not the impossible.
I got into position. He charged. That sweet adrenalin pulsed through my veins. I shot. He jumped, but it was too late to actually tip the ball.
Please, Saint Sebastian, do me this one solid,I prayed to the patron saint of basketball.
It felt as though we were all moving in slow motion as the ball sank and then…nothing but net.
Whooping and hollering, I jumped up to cheer but then felt a stabbing pain in my heel.
Ezekiel Angelo had already retrieved the ball and quickly sunk another shot, while I sat on my ass looking at my bleeding heel.
The Not So Nice List had struck yet again.
“Aubrey!” Cole was across the rooftop court in a half second, looking at my heel even while I stared at the blood in a kind of shock. Then the nausea came, so I looked away as the world turned a little fuzzy.
Breathe, Aubrey, Breathe. You will not embarrass Cole by passing out. You will not—
“It’s glass,” he said. “Anyone got a towel?”
The guys shrugged, and Cole began to unbutton his dress shirt.
“Cole, this is hardly the time,” I said, even though my voice sounded disconnected from my body. I didn’t like the sight of blood, especially not my own. It wasn’t a great attribute for an athlete, really. I once had to take a break during a very important game because I got elbowed in the nose.
Breathe through it, Aubrey. You can’t pass out in front of Ezekiel Angelo. You just can’t.
Cole handed me his dress shirt and drew a white undershirt over his head. Under other circumstances, I would’ve appreciated the scenery because Cole, it turned out, was no stranger to the gym. And that was my last observation before the world narrowed, blackening around the edges.
12
Cole
“Ezekiel, could I borrow your limo?”
“Sure, Frostman. Anything you want. I sure didn’t mean for your lady to get hurt.” For all the grief the man was giving me over his contract, his concern for Aubrey was real. She’d been right, of course. All she had to do was show some pluck, as she had with that three-pointer out of nowhere, and she’d won his eternal admiration.
I hadn’t gotten over the surprise of her perfect shot before having to move on to the shock of her foot, but I needed to be in efficiency mode right now. Later I could be shocked.
Ezekiel was still looking at me expectantly.
I scooped Aubrey up into my arms. “It’s not your fault. Some jackass left his beer bottle up here to get broken.”
I knew they shouldn’t have been playing barefoot. But I also didn’t see how Aubrey was supposed to play in her heels. Besides, she’d seemed so sure of herself.
