30. Jordan
CHAPTER 30
JORDAN
I briefly forgot the internet was a thing. My impulsive stunt was unlike anything I’ve ever done or would ever do again–but we do crazy things for love. And that’s what I’ve been telling every reporter in every interview I’ve had about it since.
It’s conference tournament time, which is already insane in the media department. But now, Lucy and I are viral sensations yet again, so we have a whole slew of extra interviews and appearances. Even the Today show sent a reporter to interview us on all the content that’s been circulating–my karaoke solo being the embarrassing cherry on top.
Ordinarily, I’d despise this sort of thing. I’m usually all business and I don’t need distractions during the most important time of the season. But when Lucy is the one quite literally holding my hand through it all, suddenly something torturous feels comfortable and easy.
Plus, if anyone understands the focus required right now, it’s Lucy.
She’s a professional at turning it on when she needs to. She goes from competitive killer to sweet and friendly girl next door all in about .2 seconds .
I’m in awe of her.
In every interview, I can’t help but deflect every compliment to her. Oddly enough, I’m not putting on an act. I genuinely feel like she’s the one who should be elevated here. I simply have the privilege of being the man on her arm while she owns every room she enters.
I get to hold her when she’s nervous and kiss her when she’s happy.
I get to hug her tightly when the pressure of everyone’s expectations becomes too much for her to carry alone.
I get to tell her that she could quit basketball and we could run away to New Zealand and my feelings wouldn’t be any different.
I get to be the one whose arms she throws herself into when this season’s award winners are finally announced and she wins Player of the Year.
I don’t think I’ve ever been prouder.
Both our teams had just arrived in Minneapolis for our conference tournament when it came out. We were milling around the lobby when Rashaun slapped me on the back.
“Hey, man. Congrats!”
“For…?”
He laughed. “Your girl–did you not see the announcement?”
At that moment, Tyler elbowed me in the side and pointed. I turned just in time to see Lucy’s last few running steps toward me.
She was beaming.
I caught her, lifting her off the ground in an embrace that drew cheers from both teams. Her body relaxed into mine. I whispered into her ear. “I’m so proud of you, babe.”
She nuzzled into my neck. “I like when you call me that.”
I set her down and kissed her much more politely than I wanted to. But with all our teammates, coaches, and trainers watching, I didn’t have much of a choice. She looked up at me like she was reading my thoughts. Her eyes glanced at my lips and then we both laughed, like we were sharing an inside joke.
We’ll celebrate privately later.
We are now strolling through the halls of the hotel, chatting about our games tomorrow, when Lucy’s phone pings. She pulls it out and lets out a shriek of excitement.
“Oh, my gosh, Jordan! You made the All-Conference team!”
My stomach does a flip. I don’t think I heard her right. Or maybe this was a mistake.
“Are you sure?”
She looks even happier than she did about her own awards as she ferociously scrolls and clicks her phone.
“My mom just said to tell you congrats! The men’s awards just got released.”
Finally, she holds it up, revealing a graphic of me shooting a three with the words “First Team All-Conference” written across the top. I take it from her in disbelief.
Grabbing my face with her hands, she pulls me toward her. Right before kissing me, she looks directly into my eyes. “I’m so, so proud of you.”
She inhales like she’s going to say something else, but stops. It’s a brief enough pause, I almost wonder if I’m imagining it, but it felt like she might have considered using the “L” word. She covers it up by kissing me hard, throwing her arms around my neck.
It takes my breath away. It’s a good thing we’re in an empty hallway near a supply elevator because I can’t help but push her back against the wall. She runs her fingers through my hair, and I feel goose bumps erupt. Just when my fingertips graze the skin where her shirt is slightly coming up, the elevator dings.
Lucy hurriedly steps back, blinking and smoothing down the front of her clothes. I bite back a laugh, jokingly stepping toward her.
“Should we give them a show?”
Her face turns red. “Could you imagine that headline? ‘Beloved couple gives innocent maintenance worker heart attack.”
I give her my most seductive smile. “You know how much we both love being in the news.”
She gives my shoulder a joking shove and snorts. “Yup, I’m truly only with you so I can be one-half of an almost-famous couple.”
“And I’m fine with that.”
As we continue walking hand in hand down the hallway, I wonder what she was going to say after she told me she was proud of me. I bet I could guess. I hope I’m right. It’s probably the same thing I’ve been holding back saying for a while now.
I do love her.
So much.
And I want her to know more than anything. But it feels like we are both still scared–I know I am. My reasoning is sound, at least in my head. I’m waiting to have this difficult conversation with my dad, and there’s a lot that needs to be said. There are boundaries that need to be established and hurt that needs to be worked through. The conversation will only be the first step, but it will get the ball rolling.
I’m planning to do it after the tournament. Both my parents are coming, so it’ll be my chance to do it in person. I’m both dreading it and excited to have it over with. Lucy has been incredibly supportive about whatever I choose to do.
But deep down, I think she’s nervous I’m going to get spooked again. The last time I spoke to my dad in person, I went radio silent and then broke up with her. It’s fair that she’s hesitant. A lot is riding on this single conversation, so she’s holding back the words until it’s clear I’m all-in.
I know for certain that we’re in love, though. It’s obvious. Every look, every kiss, every conversation, every laugh–this is what love is. It’s actually better than what I’d envisioned.
Having someone see all the worst parts of me–the baggage, the failures, the wounds–and still choosing to stay? I genuinely didn’t believe it was possible.
Granted, basically everything about Lucy seems too good to be true. So far, nothing is. She’s as real, beautiful, kind, loving, selfless, and talented as it gets.
Even her body heals faster than a normal person. The team doctor couldn’t believe how good her ankle looked after only a week of recovery. I’ve decided to take some credit for that one, considering I killed it as her live-in nurse.
Lucy gives me that credit willingly.
Maybe I’ll bypass law school and go into the medical field. If I wasn’t such a wimp when it comes to blood and anything regarding the human body except bruises, that would be a viable option.
Lucy’s bruising is becoming a disgusting shade of yellow. Even that isn’t enough to turn me off from wanting to be close to her. Unfortunately, even though we are temporarily living in the same hotel at the moment, we have even less time to be together.
Preparations for these games are more extensive than any other games of the season. We’re watching hours of film, having walk-throughs and shoot-arounds, yoga, extra shooting, and scouting material to read up on the teams we're facing.
The only person who loves it more than me is Lucy. She lives and breathes this. Not that I want to take all the credit, but she’s told me that her anxiety has subsided into normal nerves since I came into her life. Now she just gets to enjoy the peak of the season and jump into her preparation headfirst.
My heart soared when she revealed this information. I hold that fact like a badge of honor. Making her feel like she is so much more than an athlete, and that basketball doesn’t have to dictate her happiness or the feelings of those around her–that might be my greatest accomplishment.
I wasn’t lying, either. At this point I will basically do anything or live anywhere as long as it’s with her.
But it’s clear she does love this game.
She loves playing and competing. She loves her team. She loves representing her school. She’s like Mozart on the court, and I’m entranced by her. As we watch the women’s team destroy their first-round opponent, I can’t help but laugh. I’m sitting with the guys on my own team, and a couple of them glance over at me with concerned looks.
Tyler’s got his eyebrows raised. “Want to let us in on the joke?”
I lean back, gesturing at the court as Lucy hits a step-back three. “She’s so good, it’s not even fair. I mean…”
We all turn our attention to the court as Lucy nabs a steal and throws a dime to Jacey for a layup. The rest of the guys let out a collective chuckle.
“Wow, it’s almost like you planned that.” Rashaun is shaking his head with me now.
“Or she’s doing highlight-worthy things almost every single play.”
PJ leans forward from his seat directly behind me so our faces are almost touching. His voice is threatening in my ear. “Don’t mess this up, you idiot.”
“Wait. Why am I an idiot if I haven’t messed it up yet?”
“Because you almost did, so I’m assuming you have more screwups lined up and ready to go.”
Everyone laughs, but my stomach drops. He’s not wrong. It’s my biggest fear. Hurting her. Losing her. Giving her a reason to remember how out of my league she is or remember that I already hurt her once. These are the thoughts that plague my nightmares. Thanks for the reminder, PJ.
But as Lucy glances up my way and a smile lights up her face, it’s like all my fears remember that they’re afraid of the sun. They can’t survive the glow Lucy casts over my existence.
Lucy is everything warm and bright and good.
She deserves someone who will fight to keep her radiance ablaze.
I want to be that someone more than anything. However, I know I have to rise to the challenge and take on an opponent I’ve never been willing to face before.
My big battle on that front is coming soon.
I just pray I’m up to the task.