17. Miles
17
MILES
HOOPSNEWS UPDATE: 7TH RANKED KODIAKS FACE 8TH-RANKED OKC WITH GARRETT BACK IN THE LINEUP
T he locker room buzzes with energy as I go through my pregame routine.
It's my first time back on the court with the Kodiaks since the suspension. The weight of the upcoming game is heavy on my shoulders but fuck, does it feel good to be back.
Jay meticulously tapes his ankles. He looks up as I approach. “Ready for this?”
I nod and smile. “Hell yeah.”
Since the suspension, Chloe’s doing her best to field media inquiries, but mostly it’s people trying to stir up shit. Within a few more days, new storylines will emerge, and they’ll move on.
Like I want to move on.
Even Hawkins doesn’t have any fresh hot takes in the media this morning.
Rookie bounds over, his enthusiasm undiminished by the somber atmosphere. “It's good to have you back. We've missed you out there.”
I clap him on the shoulder, grateful for his unwavering support.
Across the room, Clay grunts. “We can't afford any more distractions.”
I bristle at his words, but before I can respond, Coach calls us in for a final huddle.
“Listen up, everyone. This game is critical. We're fighting for our playoff spot, and every possession counts.”
As we take the court for warmups, I scan the stands. Brooke couldn’t come tonight because of a commitment for Nova. She said she’d reschedule, but I told her not to worry about it.
Now, I wish to hell she was here.
The game against OKC is a grind from the opening tip-off. My shots are off, my passes erratic. I feel my teammates' frustration mounting with every missed opportunity, every defensive lapse. Jay barks orders, his tone sharp and unforgiving. Clay shakes his head in disgust as I botch a simple play. The scoreboard ticks away, the gap widening with each passing minute.
During a timeout, Coach pulls me aside. “What's going on out there? I need you to step up, to be the leader you have been—the one I know you can be.”
I clench my jaw. “Yeah. You got it.”
But the words feel hollow, the weight of my doubts echoing in my chest.
The final buzzer sounds, a devastating fifteen-point loss. The locker room is silent, the air heavy with disappointment and unspoken accusations.
I sit at my locker, my head in my hands, the walls closing in around me.
Jay approaches, his frustration palpable. “What happened out there? We needed you, and you disappeared on us.”
I look up, meeting his gaze. “I couldn't find my rhythm. It won't happen again.”
Rookie tries to interject, his voice filled with optimism. “Hey, it's one game. We'll bounce back.”
Clay cuts him off. “Bounce back when? We're running out of time.”
My fists clench with frustration, but he’s not wrong.
Atlas raises a hand, silencing the room. “Enough talk. Miles is our brother. We stand with him.”
The weight of their words settles on my shoulders as I head to media. But on my way, I spot a new face.
“Have we met?” I ask the cleaner who’s sweeping up in the hallway. I make a point of knowing every person I see on a regular basis, especially the staff at the arena.
“No, I started this week. I’m George. Lisa just quit.”
“Right.” I shake his hand and file that away as I head to media, a spring in my step for the first time in weeks.
Because that sounds an awful lot like a clue.
brOOKE
“We should turn this over to the team,” Miles says for the fifth time.
“Not without more information.” I shift in the passenger seat.
After the game last night, Miles told me what he learned about the cleaner quitting.
Maybe she was involved.
“We’re not private investigators, Princess. This is above my paygrade.”
“No such thing.” I wink at him. “Besides, you’re more cut out for this than you thought. I’m impressed you got her contact information from HR.”
“I can be charming, you know.” Miles tosses me a cocky look, but there’s no hiding the nerves underneath. His jaw is clenched, and his eyes are fixed on the road ahead.
“So. You going to move back in?” he asks casually.
“You want me to?”
Miles pretends to consider. “Would save me sending a stealth unit to your parents’ house and removing all your belongings without you noticing.”
My mouth falls open.
“I have a lot of belongings.”
“All of them. Each shoe. Earring. Face cream thingy.” He holds up fingers to count them off. “They’re all coming back with me until you realize that’s where you belong, too.”
His words touch me. “I guess it would be less scandalous if I packed my own bags,” I decide.
Miles grins, reaching out to take my hand in his. “Good. If there’s anything we need to do differently this time around, I’m down to talk about it. Except for one thing.”
“What’s that?” Wariness rises up.
“I need you to be little spoon.”
I turn to look out the window, my smile wide enough it hurts. “Okay.”
As we pull into the parking lot, I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what's to come. I run through the scenarios in my head, imagining how the conversation might unfold. Will Lisa be willing to talk? Or will this be a dead end that leaves us right back where we started?
“You could stay in the car,” Miles suggests.
“You think I’m going to scare her away? I’ll have you know I can be very welcoming and approachable. Kappa pledges were up twenty percent the year that I was recruitment chair.”
“That’s not it.” Miles grunts. “I want to keep you as far away from this as possible.”
My chest warms at his protective words. I shift closer, running my hands through his hair. “No way. We’re in this together.”
We enter the coffee shop, the bell above the door jingling softly. The air feels thick with anticipation as we take our seats, Miles's knee bouncing under the table. I give his hand a reassuring squeeze.
The bell above the door jingles again, and a middle-aged woman enters, her eyes darting around the room until they land on us. She recognizes Miles right away, but she orders a drink and waits for it.
I stand and cross to her with a warm smile. “Hey, Lisa? Thank you for meeting with us.”
I insist on buying her drink and she takes a seat, her hands wrapped tightly around her cup of coffee. “I'm not sure how much help I can be.”
Miles leans in. “Someone planted drugs in my locker and tried to blame it on me. I need to find out who.”
I squeeze Miles’s arm, a warning. We can’t scare her off before we’ve started.
My voice is gentle but firm. “Lisa, why did you quit your job with the team? It seems like a great place to work.”
Lisa takes a deep breath, her eyes flickering between Miles and me. “I didn't want to get involved, but I saw something that didn't sit right with me.”
Miles leans forward, and my fingers tighten on his arm.
Lisa continues, her voice growing stronger. “It was one of the training staff. They all have the same jackets. He seemed jumpy. He kept looking around as if he wasn’t sure why he was there.”
My heart races as I exchange a glance with Miles. This is the lead we've been hoping for.
Lisa’s hands fidget with her cup. “I was cleaning the locker room before the game, and I noticed him come in. He went straight to your locker, Miles.”
Miles's jaw works.
I take a steadying breath, trying to keep my emotions in check. “Lisa, this is extremely important. Can you remember any other details about that night? Anything at all?”
Lisa furrows her brow, her eyes distant as she sifts through her memories. “I heard him talking on the phone on the way out, couldn't hear the other voice. He seemed agitated, like he was arguing with someone.”
I nod, my mind racing. “Could you identify him?”
Lisa shakes her head. “I didn’t get a good look and I don’t know the coaching staff well. I remember thinking it was strange, but I didn't want to get involved. I should have come forward sooner.”
Miles leans forward. “You're doing the right thing now. Thank you for being brave enough to tell us what you saw.”
Lisa nods. I fix the smile on my face as the flicker of hope extinguishes in my chest.
There are no cameras in the locker rooms for privacy reasons, which means that it’s one thing if she saw someone, but if she can’t identify him, we’re back to square one.