CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Cole noticed Annie shiver slightly as they stepped into the hotel garden. The evening air carried the first whispers of autumn, a gentle reminder that summer was fading. Without hesitation, he slipped off his tuxedo jacket and draped it over her bare shoulders.
“You don’t have to—” she began.
“I want to,” he said simply, his fingers lingering briefly where the jacket met her skin.
The garden path wound through meticulously trimmed hedges, illuminated by strings of soft golden lights that transformed the space into something almost magical. The sounds of the gala—the clinking glasses, the orchestra, the laughter—faded with each step they took, replaced by the gentle rustling of leaves and distant fountain splashes.
“I needed this,” Annie confessed, her voice quiet in the evening stillness. “All those people…”
Cole nodded, understanding without her having to explain further. He’d watched her throughout the night, noticed how she’d maintained her composure with grace despite the endless introductions and small talk. But he’d also caught the moments when her eyes would search the room, perhaps for a friendly face or simply an escape.
“You were amazing in there,” he told her, guiding her toward a stone bench nestled beneath a flowering trellis. “But I’m glad we escaped.”
They sat down, close enough that her shoulder brushed against his arm. The garden smelled of roses and damp earth, a pleasant contrast to the perfumed air of the ballroom.
“I’m not usually good at big gatherings,” Annie admitted, pulling his jacket tighter around herself. “Large crowds make me feel…”
“Exposed?” Cole offered when she trailed off.
Her eyes found his, surprise evident in their blue-green depths. “Yes, exactly. How did you know?”
Cole smiled, remembering countless post-game interviews and charity functions. “Even when you’re used to it, there’s something exhausting about being ‘on’ all the time. Sometimes you just want to be yourself, without all the…” he gestured vaguely, “expectations.”
Annie’s laugh was soft but genuine. “And here I thought professional athletes thrived on attention.”
“Some do,” he conceded. “In fact, I thrived on the attention early on in my career, but I’ve come to value this more.” He motioned to the quiet garden, to the moment they were sharing. “Real conversations. No cameras, no pretenses.”
She studied him then, her gaze thoughtful. “You’re not what I expected, Cole Halverson.”
“Is that good or bad?”
“Definitely good,” she whispered.
A comfortable silence settled between them as they gazed up at the stars peeking through the garden’s canopy. Cole found himself very aware of her presence beside him—the subtle floral scent of her perfume, the way her hair caught the golden light, how her fingers absently traced patterns on the sleeve of his jacket.
“Can I ask you something?” he said finally, turning toward her.
Annie nodded, her expression open yet somehow vulnerable.
“What are you afraid of?” he asked softly.
He’d noticed the careful glances around the room, the way her body tensed whenever a new person approached them.
But strangely enough, she’d also exuded a sort of quiet confidence. Like she wasn’t totally out of place there.
Annie glanced down at her hands, now still against the dark fabric of his jacket. For a moment, Cole worried he’d pushed too far, crossed some invisible boundary.
She gave him a sideways glance. “What makes you think I’m afraid?”
Had he misread things? “You seem a bit… on edge. Like you’re waiting for something to happen.”
“I’m not afraid,” she said, though her words were lacking indignation, so he didn’t think she’d taken offense at what he’d said. “I’m just… wary. This is all new to me. I’m not used to being in a room of strangers, where I only know one person. Don’t forget that I didn’t go to school and now my job doesn’t require me to interact with people. The most I’m around people is at church.”
“Well, I’m glad you decided to brave the masses to come here with me tonight,” Cole said. “And I hope you’ve enjoyed the evening, despite the unfortunate run in with the two WAGs.”
“Shouldn’t that be WAFs? Wives and fiances?”
Cole chuckled, thankful that the interaction hadn’t completely ruined the evening. “I’m sorry for your experience with Lisa and Megan.”
“Is that typical for them?”
“Those two are the closest of the significant others on the team. Where Lisa is, Megan is usually right beside her.”
“Are you close to the men they’re with?”
“They’re both good guys,” Cole said. “But I’m closer to other men on the team.”
Voices that had been distant began to grow louder, and Cole looked over to see if the people approaching were ones he knew. They ended up being strangers, though judging from their clothing, it was obvious they were part of the gala.
Once they’d moved on, Cole turned his attention back to the woman at his side. He didn’t want the evening to end, but he knew it couldn’t go on too much longer.
He and the team were flying out the next day for the first game of a series of away games. But they’d be having a practice in the morning first. So these hours with Annie would be his last for awhile.
“Thank you so much for coming out to spend the last couple of days with me.” Cole reached out to take Annie’s hand and, feeling how chilly her fingers were, took both in his hands to warm them up. “I’ve never enjoyed a gala as much as I’ve enjoyed this one.”
The soft glow of the lights strung throughout the garden cast a gentle illumination over Annie’s features. He’d meant what he’d said earlier about her being beautiful.
Megan and Lisa had been right in stating that she wasn’t the usual type of woman he brought to events that required he have a date. However, he wasn’t looking at this as a one-time thing. He hoped that this was going to be the first of many. She was now the only date he ever wanted for any future events.
“I’ve enjoyed it too,” she said, her fingers tightening around his. “Meeting people who obviously think highly of you. Seeing you in two very different environments. Watching you thrive on the court and also fit in so well in a tuxedo.”
“So, would you come back again for another event?”
Her hesitation puzzled him, but then she nodded. “If I can make it, I’d definitely come back.”
“Maybe Benji, Dawn, and Andrew could come with you for another weekend in LA.”
Annie gave a soft laugh. “You won’t have to ask Benji twice. I think if I came and didn’t bring him, he wouldn’t talk to me for weeks.”
“If that was true about one of my siblings, I think I’d happily leave them behind.”
Laughing, Annie leaned forward to rest her forehead on his shoulder. Cole let go of her hands and wrapped his arms around her.
He loved that they could talk about boring and mundane things, as well as more significant topics. But by far, their moments of laughter were among his most favorite. Especially when he was the one making her laugh.
“I’m going to miss you,” he murmured against her hair.
“I’m going to miss you, too.”
“I’d say I wish you didn’t have to go, but since I have to leave too, I still wouldn’t have you around.”
“Do significant others travel with the team ever?”
“Some do, but they don’t travel on the charter with us, and they stay apart from us. The coaches want no distractions.”
Annie shifted to look up at him. “Would I be a distraction? You still played really well when I came to your game last night.”
Cole chuckled. “Maybe I was trying to impress you.”
“You don’t have to impress me, Cole,” Annie said. “I was already impressed before we ever met. And getting to know you hasn’t changed that. In fact, being here with you tonight has impressed me even more.”
“But you know that I’m more than just a wealthy basketball player, right?” Cole asked.
She hadn’t struck him as a person who was swayed by his fame and fortune. It was one of the reasons why he was so comfortable with her. He felt like she had been quite open with him, and he didn’t sense any ulterior motives from her.
The open and honest conversations they shared had become a vital part of his days. And she seemed to know when he needed the lighthearted interactions and when he wanted something deeper. He’d never had that with a woman before.
“I might try to swing home for a couple of days during our next break that lasts more than two days. Would you be up for a date? Maybe we could double with Aiden and Skylar.”
“That might be fun,” she said. “Just let me know when that is, and I’ll make sure it works.”
That assurance from her made the prospect of not seeing her for a bit a little easier to handle. Time apart wouldn’t be fun, but since he was in the middle of a season, he was super busy, so hopefully the time would go by quickly.
“I’m glad you asked me to come,” Annie said, nestling her head against his shoulder. “Even though I was nervous about it.”
Cole rested his cheek against her hair, breathing in the subtle floral scent that he’d come to associate with her. “What were you nervous about specifically?”
She was quiet for a moment, and he could almost feel her organizing her thoughts. “Meeting your teammates, I suppose. Wondering if I’d fit in with the world you live in.”
“And do you think you do?” Cole asked, genuinely curious about her perspective.
“I’m not sure yet,” she answered honestly. “It’s very different from my usual life. More… exposed, like you said. But not in a bad way, necessarily.”
A cool breeze rustled through the garden, making the lights sway gently above them. Cole instinctively tightened his arms around her.
“I pray for you, you know,” Annie said suddenly, her voice soft but clear in the quiet garden.
The admission caught Cole by surprise. Not many people in his current life talked about prayer so openly. It reminded him of his childhood, of his parents gathering their children in the living room for evening devotions.
“You do?” he asked.
Annie nodded against his shoulder. “Before your games. For safety, focus, peace. Is that weird?”
“No,” Cole said, something warm spreading through his chest. “It’s… nice. Pretty sure only my family prays for me. At least, that they’ve told me about.”
She pulled back slightly to look at him. “When was the last time you prayed?”
The question wasn’t judgmental, just curious, but it still made Cole pause and think over the past few months when he’d started praying again, starting with Shiloh’s illness.
Before that, when had he last prayed? There had been moments—right before big games, during turbulent flights with the team—when old habits resurfaced, and he’d find himself silently asking for help or protection. But deliberate, intentional prayer?
“More frequently, recently. But before that, not very often,” he admitted. “I still believe, I think. It’s just… complicated.”
Cole thought back on his faith journey. “My family was all about church. Sunday morning, Sunday night, Wednesday night. Bible study, youth group, the works. But once I started playing professionally, that schedule was harder to maintain. Different cities every few days, practices on Sundays…”
“And maybe it felt less relevant?” Annie suggested gently.
“Maybe,” Cole acknowledged. “Or maybe I just got lazy about it. Let other things become priorities.”
“I wasn’t raised as a Christian, and I didn’t know much about Christianity until Dawn invited me to church. It was all very new to me, and I knew it was something I wanted in my life. The idea of having a real purpose here on earth—to honor and glorify God and not just self—appealed to me.”
The garden had grown quieter, most of the gala attendees having returned to the ballroom or departed for the evening. The privacy made Cole bold enough to reach up and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering against her cheek.
“I should probably get you back to your hotel,” he said reluctantly. “Early practice tomorrow before we fly out.”
Annie nodded but made no move to stand. “Can we stay just a few more minutes?”
“Of course.”
They sat in comfortable silence, the night air growing cooler around them. Cole found himself wondering what she was thinking, whether her thoughts mirrored his own jumbled emotions.
In just a short time, Annie had become important to him in a way that both excited and terrified him. Basketball had always been his focus—relationships were temporary distractions that never lasted beyond a season. But this felt different.
“What are you thinking about?” Cole asked, breaking the silence.
Annie shifted slightly, her shoulder pressing against his. “I was just thinking about how unexpected this all is. A few weeks ago, you were just a basketball player my brother talked about constantly. And now…”
“Now?” Cole prompted when she didn’t continue.
She turned to face him, her eyes searching his. “Now you’re Cole. Not just the basketball star, but someone who makes me laugh, who listens when I talk, who notices when I’m uncomfortable in a crowd.”
The sincerity in her voice made his heart beat faster. Cole had dated women who were attracted to his fame, his money, his status—but Annie looked at him like she saw beyond all that, to the person he sometimes forgot existed beneath the jersey.
“I like being that person for you,” he said softly. “And I like who I am when I’m with you.”
Annie’s smile was gentle in the golden light. “Me too.”
The confession hung between them, weighted with possibility. Cole felt drawn to her, pulled by something deeper than physical attraction. He leaned forward slightly, giving her time to pull away if she wanted.
She didn’t.
Their lips met softly, tentatively. Cole kept the kiss gentle, one hand coming up to cup her cheek. When they separated, Annie’s eyes remained closed for a moment longer, her expression peaceful.
“I’ve been wanting to do that all night,” Cole confessed.
Annie’s eyes fluttered open, a smile playing at her lips. “Me too.”
A chime from Cole’s phone interrupted the moment. He reluctantly checked it, finding a text from his teammate Marcus: Where’d you disappear to? Coach is looking for you.
Cole sighed. “Duty calls. Coach is making the rounds, wants all players present for the final thank-yous.”
Annie nodded, understanding in her eyes as she stood and slipped his jacket from her shoulders to return it. “We should get back.”
Cole took the jacket but caught her hand before she could step away. “This feels like the beginning of something important, Annie. Not just a weekend in LA.”
Her expression softened. “I feel that too.”
“Good,” he said, brushing one more quick kiss against her lips before they headed back toward the lights and noise of the gala.
The walk back to the ballroom felt different somehow, as if something fundamental had shifted between them. Cole’s hand stayed firmly entwined with Annie’s, his thumb occasionally brushing across her knuckles in a gesture that felt both casual and intimate.
As they approached the entrance, the sounds of the gala grew louder. Cole felt Annie’s grip tighten slightly.
“Ready to face the crowd again?” he asked.
She nodded, but she didn’t let go of his hand.
Inside, the event was winding down. Groups of elegantly dressed attendees were saying their goodbyes, while others lingered near the bar for one last drink. Cole was immediately spotted by the team’s head coach.
“There you are, Halverson.” The coach beckoned them over. “Need you for the final toast and donor acknowledgments.”
Cole nodded respectfully. “Be right there, Coach.” He turned to Annie, his expression apologetic. “This shouldn’t take long. Will you be okay for a few minutes?”
“I’ll be fine,” she assured him, releasing his hand. “Go do your thing. I’ll wait over here for you.”
Cole hated to leave Annie on her own, but the sooner he went, the sooner he’d be done and back at her side.
He kept an eye on her as he joined the others on the stage, wanting to make sure she wasn’t harassed by anyone. Now that the alcohol had been flowing for awhile, anything was possible.
When he saw Coach’s wife approach her, he relaxed a little. The woman was highly respected, and she’d make sure no one was rude to Annie.
Thankfully, the closing of the gala didn’t take long, and Cole was soon back with Annie. After saying goodbye to the people he knew that were still there, Cole took Annie’s hand and led her from the ballroom and out to the front where their limo waited along with several others.
Once they were settled in the back of the limo, Cole turned to Annie.
“I’m sorry about the interruption back there,” he said softly, taking her hand again.
Annie smiled, the passing streetlights casting alternating patterns of light and shadow across her face. “It’s part of your job. I understand.”
The driver navigated through the late-night LA traffic, the city lights blurring past the tinted windows. Inside the car, a comfortable quiet settled between them. This silence felt like a conversation of its own—filled with shared glances and the gentle pressure of her hand in his.
“How did you find meeting the coach’s wife?” Cole asked.
Annie laughed softly. “She made a point of telling me how refreshing it was to see you with someone who—and I quote—‘seems to have an actual conversation with you rather than just hanging on your arm.’”
“She said that?” Cole grinned. “She doesn’t mince words. Been with the team longer than most of the players.”
“It was nice to meet her,” Annie said. “She seems like a lovely person.”
As they approached her hotel, Cole felt an unsurprising reluctance to let her go settling in his chest.
“What time do you fly out tomorrow?” he asked as the limo slowed to a stop.
“Around ten.”
Cole had hoped to see her again, though he’d known it was likely not possible between morning practice and the team’s own departure. “My practice starts at eight, then we’re wheels up by one.”
The driver opened the door, and the sounds of the city filtered into their quiet bubble. Cole stepped out first, then offered his hand to help Annie. They walked slowly through the hotel lobby, neither seeming eager to reach the elevators.
The elevator arrived with a soft chime. They stepped inside, and Cole pressed the button for her floor. As the doors closed, he found himself studying her profile, trying to memorize the curve of her cheek, the exact shade of her eyes in the elevator’s harsh lighting.
“What?” she asked, noticing his gaze.
“Just trying to remember everything about tonight,” he admitted. “So I can replay it when I’m in some hotel room across the country.”
Annie’s cheeks flushed slightly at his words, but she tugged him out of the elevator when it reached her floor.
The hallway was quiet, the late hour ensuring their privacy. Cole leaned down, drawn to her like a compass finding north. This kiss was different from the one in the garden.
Deeper, more certain, a promise rather than a question. Annie’s hands found their way to Cole’s shoulders, and she rose slightly on her toes to meet him.
When they separated, Cole rested his forehead against hers, unwilling to put any more distance between them than necessary.
“I wish we had more time,” he whispered.
“Me too,” Annie replied, her fingers lightly tracing the collar of his shirt. “But we’ll have phone calls. And texts.”
“And video chat,” Cole added. “So I can actually see you.”
They reached her door all too soon. Annie slipped the key card from her clutch and unlocked it, but didn’t push it all the way open immediately. Instead, she turned back to face him.
“Tonight was perfect,” she murmured. “Thank you.”
Cole tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch lingering. “I’ll call you tomorrow after we land.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
He leaned down for one more kiss, gentle and sweet. “Goodnight, Annie.”
“Goodnight, Cole.”
He waited until she was safely inside before reluctantly turning away, wishing he had a definite date for when they’d see each other again. As he walked back toward the elevator, Cole found himself doing something he’d been doing more of lately—offering up a quiet prayer of gratitude for the unexpected blessing that had come into his life.
In the quiet of the hallway, he felt a sense of peace settle over him. Whatever was starting between them felt right in a way nothing else had before. Distance and time apart would be a challenge, but Cole was no stranger to overcoming obstacles. And something told him that Annie was worth fighting for.
As the elevator doors closed, Cole smiled to himself. For the first time in longer than he could remember, his thoughts weren’t centered on basketball or his next game. Instead, they were filled with the memory of expressive blue-green eyes and the promise of something real.