A few minutes later, I take a deep breath and hit Send.
17
CLAY
“We’ve got movement.”My agent’s voice comes over the crackling phone.
“Tell me.”The sun bakes my neck as I pace from my car to the office building.It’s a fair distance from my condo, but I have a solid reason for making the drive.
“There’s interest from Phoenix.And Boston.”
“That’s it?”I yank open the door and stalk to the stairwell.I don’t want to be seen in the elevator, though staff are discreet.Normally, I’ll tolerate requests for selfies and autographs, but not today.
“Last week, I would’ve said yes.But I just got a call from LA.”
My grip tightens.“And?”
“They’re interested.They caught the game, plus some workout tape.”
I take the stairs two at a time.Even the four flights won’t have me breaking a sweat.The benefits of fitness and all.“How’d they get that?”
“I sent it to them.”
At the top, I step into the main hallway and stop in front of a hardwood door with a brass plaque on the front.
“They make Harlan an offer?”I ask.
“Not yet.I think they want to see how the preseason shakes down and how your knee holds up.”
I grimace.Wait and see.It’s management’s favorite setting.As if basketball is some comprehensible system and all the unknowns will become clear with just a little more time.
“Maybe they’re concerned you’re not back to a hundred percent.That the injury’s going to flare up.”
“They’re wrong.”
“Course they are.They want to watch a few games, that’s all.”
I click off.
The twinge of discomfort I felt in our first game was back in practice today.Not that I told anyone.I played through it, and I’ll keep playing through it.
A text appears on my phone from Nova with one word:
Done.
I click it and find the drawing she started.It sucks the air from my chest.She finished the one of me on the bench.There’s skill in every stroke, but there’s knowing, too.
Nova’s been living rent free in my head ever since the barbeque.
The way she opened up for me, the way she hummed when my lips stroked her skin, it only made me want more.
“Clay.”
I look up to see my therapist hovering in the doorway.
“You’re right on time.”
I follow him inside.A few minutes later, I’m taking up half of his couch, and he’s perched in his chair.
