Chapter Seventeen #2
Coach Darlene looked thrilled, but she mostly looked relieved. “You were good today, GJ. You’re a genuine leader when you stop fucking around.”
A laugh flew out of me, surprised to hear something so profane from her. But I knew she was serious—probably more serious than she’d ever been with me. “Thanks, Coach.”
“I see a lot of promise in you. I don’t doubt you’re going to get drafted and you’re going to be an amazing asset to a very lucky team. I just hope they’re prepared for you.” She cracked a smile.
“I’ll make it work even if they aren’t,” I said, and I was surprised by how much I meant that.
Leah met up with me later that night, both of us able to quietly slip away from The 151—and our friends—under the guise of being tired.
She laid between my legs with her head on my chest, the two of us sprawled out on the couch. My hands lightly combed through her hair while we both half-watched some TV show I’d been wanting to see. It was a new kind of post-game ritual for me, but I really liked it.
“Is Nia going to be okay?” she asked quietly.
“Coach says she’s concussed, so she’ll probably have to sit out the next game or two at the very least to recover.”
“That’s so scary.” She gripped my shirt as I was the one who’d gotten hurt.
“It happens sometimes. Contact sport lifestyle.”
“Still scary.” She lifted her head from my chest so she could look at me. “I guess it just made me realize that you guys do actually get hurt out there. I’ve seen it before, but it feels…different now.”
I trailed my hand down to her face, tracing my fingers over her jaw. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” she responded softly. “Can I ask you something without you thinking too much about it?”
I’d be lying if that wasn’t the second scariest thing I’d ever heard, only ranked behind my mom yelling out my full name when I was in trouble. But I wasn’t a coward. “What’s up?”
“Okay, maybe it’s a multi-part question, actually.” She was quiet for a little bit after that, but I didn’t want to interrupt whatever she was thinking about and rush her. “Is this like…a thing? Like, are you seeing other people?”
I blinked, surprised by the sudden vulnerability.
In a way, I’d been expecting her question—or questions—to be connected back to us and what we were doing in some way.
But Leah actually asking the question felt like a glimpse behind the curtain.
For just a moment, she wasn’t the confident girl at the party with the effortless smile and friends in every corner of the room.
And even though it was a question I’d heard what felt a million times from a million different girls—all of whom had gotten some variation of the I do not want anything serious talk before we started fooling around—I suddenly didn’t have an answer.
Usually, I was quick to write it off. Of course, there were other girls, and of course it wasn’t a thing, and of course it wasn’t anything serious.
But with Leah, I hadn’t felt the urge. I hadn’t even really thought about how she was the only woman I’d wanted in my bed, or thought about how weird that was for me.
It’d just felt natural. There was no forcing myself to do anything, or second-guessing what I was doing.
Not even an ounce of self-sabotage had taken over my decision-making.
I enjoyed her company so much that the idea of spending time with anyone else felt like a waste.
“I’m not seeing anyone else,” I finally admitted.
It was so stupid, but saying those words made me almost sick to my stomach with nerves.
As soon as I said them, I thought about how maybe I should’ve just lied and pretended it wasn’t anything.
That felt a hell of a lot less scary than telling Leah she was the only girl in my life right now.
For the first time in my life, I was leaving room for rejection that would actually hurt.
Leah was quiet again, and this time, I was a little less inclined to give her a second to think. Every second that went by made me increasingly nervous. “I’m not, either,” Leah finally said. There was an instant rush of relief, followed by a heavy dose of fear.
Those words officially made me a one-woman woman. It wasn’t theoretical anymore, or something I’d quietly wish for with Leah but never actually ask for. We weren’t necessarily official, but we were exclusive, and that was new to me.
I’d never done this before, never been so close to having what could be considered a relationship. I had no idea what the hell I was doing. Talking about it like this made it feel really fucking serious and really fucking grown up.
“What’s your follow-up question?” I asked, hoping I sounded cooler than I was feeling. I subtly wiped my sweaty palm on the side of the couch and played it off as coolly tapping my hand against it. No one had ever been more slick.
“Um.” Leah took a breath. “Honestly? Like…why me? You’ve had so many girls and so many options over the years.
You’re not exactly known for being monogamous.
Or, like, properly dating at all. Not that this is really properly dating, I guess, since we’ve really only been able to hang out at your apartment. ”
My initial instinct was to get defensive, used to years of girls reading way too much into things and getting disappointed when the friends with benefits situation they signed up for only had—as they knew before going in—the benefit of sex.
But I could tell from Leah’s tone that it was different.
And unlike the girls before Leah, I literally couldn’t take her on a date anywhere.
I’d thought about how beautiful she’d look all dressed up at a restaurant, or how much fun we’d have going to a pro game together.
But I didn’t let myself think about it for too long because it wasn’t possible with Mags in the picture.
“Where’s this all coming from?”
“I don’t know.” Leah bit her lip. “I guess I saw Nia get hurt and kept thinking about if something happened to you and how I’d want to be there.
And that didn’t feel like something someone who was being totally cool and casual would think.
But it also seems like maybe we…haven’t been super casual? At least, not for a little bit.”
“I agree,” I said and met her gaze. “I’d love to take you on a date even if I have to wait fifty more years.” I could tell Leah really felt the words by how quickly she looked away, focusing on my studio kitchen, the window behind me, and the door to my bathroom. “Leah, look at me.”
She inhaled but slowly did as I asked. I could see in her face that she had to fight looking away from me again.
“You are the most incredible, most confident woman I’ve ever met,” I said, ducking my head so I could meet her eyes again.
“You’re consistent and level-headed, and I know you’d check me on my shit.
And, honestly, I really like that you’ve never gotten weird about how I’ve been playing this season.
You make it clear that you like me and you want to get to know me, and everything else is just…
nothing. Or I guess it’s still something, but you view me as human in the middle of it.
It’s easy to want the right-hand woman to the WNBA Rookie of the Year, but it’s not so easy to still want them when they suck. ”
She snorted. “You don’t suck.”
“It maybe hasn’t been my best season.”
“It hasn’t been mine either,” Leah admitted.
I looked at her, taking in the flush of her cheeks and the way her hair fell over her shoulder.
She was effortlessly funny, and I loved every second of having her around, but it was obvious the happy exterior she was good at putting on wasn’t the full story.
Navigating everything with her family probably was really hard on her, whether she vocalized it or not. “I hadn’t noticed.”
The corners of her lips turned up in a smile. “That’s nice of you to say.”
“I mean it. I’m sorry you’ve had so much shit to deal with, but you handle it well.”
“I think you’re handling it well. I just have to deal with my family. It’s all dumb stuff between us. But you’re dealing with, like, an entire sports fanbase and commentators and scouts.”
I shrugged. “Just part of the job.”
Leah propped herself up on her arms. She looked so beautiful, like a literal painting come to life, even in the glow of my TV. It was hard to believe she was real. “It sucks either way.”
I nodded, never really having thought of it that way. “Yeah. It does.”
“I…went to a dance class recently,” Leah admitted. “After meeting your niece and nephew, I felt inspired to revisit.”
“Oh shit, really?” I was surprised to hear it, but happy for her—I’d heard her talk about dance in passing, and it seemed like it’d really meant a lot to her.
“I think I really enjoyed the class. My friend has been encouraging me to keep going back. I haven’t yet, but I can’t stop thinking about it.”
I smiled and laced my fingers through hers. I did it without thinking, without worrying. “Are you thinking you’ll go again?”
“I might. It was nice to get back into it. And I’m sure the promise of me becoming even more flexible is a big motivator for you to encourage me, too.”
“You won’t hear any complaints from me,” I said, making Leah laugh.
“But I’m also being serious. You’ve mentioned dance here and there, and it’s obvious it meant a lot to you.
You might just really love it. Just because you started doing it for your parents doesn’t mean you can’t keep doing it for yourself. ”
Leah nodded, twisting her lips in thought. “You’re right. But is it all kind of…ridiculous?”
“For you to have a hobby? No, some would say that’s actually really healthy.”
Leah snorted out a laugh. “Okay, fair. I’ve just never really done something for fun before. It’s weirdly kind of daunting.” She rested her head on my chest and sighed.
“I guess I haven’t really either, so maybe I’m not the best person to ask about this.
But I also always knew that I loved basketball.
I didn’t need anyone to tell me that I did.
Even when it’s giving me hell, it’s still my favorite thing in the world.
I love it enough to do it for free during the off-season. That might be what dance is for you.”
Leah nodded and then smiled. “It’s nice to hear you talk about basketball. I feel like you were skirting around it for a while.”
I nodded, thinking about how the season had played out so far.
She was right—I hadn’t really liked talking about it.
Or thinking about it. But very slowly, the knot in my stomach that formed whenever I thought about basketball or talked about it or played—basically every second of my life—became less and less tight.
I wasn’t at the point yet where there wasn’t a knot at all, but things were better than they had been.
It’d been so subtle that I hadn’t noticed.
“Yeah,” I said, pulling Leah closer to me. “You’re right.”