I nod, wiping the beads of sweat off my forehead. "I’ll get you the ball. Make sure you sink it. We’ve only lost one game this season, and I’ll be damned if I’m the reason we lose another, when I sure as shit shouldn’t be," I say to Ryder, just as the whistle blows for a timeout.
"Jones, on the bench. Wilson, go on for him," Coach White says.
I can’t even protest before Wilson has taken my place.
We might be up by seven, but that lead won’t last—not with Wilson on the court.
He’s solid, sure. You don’t make it to the NBA by being average.
But he’s not me.
That’s not arrogance. It’s just a fact.
When the fans boo and the other team cheers like they’ve already closed the gap, I know I’m right.
"You sure you want to do that, Coach?" Ryder asks him. Being the captain, he likes to contest the choices White makes daily.
They lock eyes for a long beat, Ryder standing firm with his hands on his hips while the rest of us watch their silent standoff.
"Fine. Wilson, put your jacket back on. You can wait until your teammate gets fouled off."
I roll my eyes, but take my place in the circle while Coach gives us a pep talk.
I used to admire him, you know? Used to think there was nobody who did it better. Hell, he was the coach behind taking us to the top, year after year. He hand-picked me in the draft, too. But ever since everything went down last year, and the factthat I wouldn’t tell himwhy, he’s shunned me for it. Shut me out. Made me feel like I wasn’t a part of the team.
In turn, my teammates did the same.
I can’t count the number of times I’ve wanted to just not show up. Be here physically, but not give it my best, but I’m not that type of player. Some days I wish I was.
Today is one of those days.
Ryder and Orlando are the only people who don’t look at me differently. Everyone else treats me like the villain when all I was doing wasmy job.
As a big brother, it is my job to protect Noelle. No matter where, no matter what, no matter who.
And now there’s Olive. Another person I feel a strong urge to protect with everything I have. But she’s also another person who doesn’t look at me the way everyone else does.
It’s freeing.
"New plan." Ryder claps his hands, cutting off Coach’s rambling. "Jones, keep your hands to yourself, and stay away from any player with the ball. No more fouls for you."
I nod, not liking it, but understanding why he’s doing it. Thirty seconds in the game of basketball is a long-ass fucking time.
"Play smart, and if you know what’s good for you and the team, pass the ball to the person you know will sink it in the net. Do I make myself clear?" Ryder says, his eyes honing in on our teammates, where he’s met with a collective nod and ‘yes, captain.’. "Good. Raptors on three," he shouts, putting his hand in the middle of the circle, and everyone follows.
"Raptors!"
***
I haven’t moved from my couch since getting home tonight. After the game, a wave of press followed.
The news finally broke about Olive and me. I’d just landed in New York, and she was already in Idaho.
Honestly? I’m surprised it took this long.
The articles dropped just as I was walking in to be interviewed after the game with a black wedding band around my finger. I played with it the entire time questions were thrown at me.
"When did you and Olive get married?"On the weekend.
