5. Miles
“Scary is where it’s at,” Atlas calls over the music, lifting his Frankenstein arms.
“No. Sexy gets you laid,” Rookie counters.
Jay shakes his head, holding up a hand. “Halloween is for girls to dress sexy.”
“But if they’re going to put the effort in, least you can do is show them what’s in it for them,” I point out, patting my abs.
Rookie high-fives me.
”Nice fur coat,” Atlas says.
”It”s a vest,” I tell him.
“Rambo?” Rookie guesses.
“Mountain Ken.” I hold up my axe.
The kitchen is full of people drinking and laughing. It’s easy to pick out the players and former players in any basketball mixer because we’re head and shoulders above the crowd.
“You drink anything that’s not mint tea or some kind of rehab concoction, you’re gonna hear about it.” Jay stabs a finger at Atlas as our big guy reaches for a beer.
Today, we had team meetings and practice. I stayed late for an extra-long workout and to watch tape, trying to study sequences from the last few games to see where we’re leaking. We’ve got challenges coming up over the next two weeks in the form of a tough Memphis team and then Oklahoma City.
“Where’d your Kodashian go?” Rookie asks me. Jay snorts.
It’s only then I realize Aliya isn’t here.
She had been blowing up my phone, begging me to bring her to this party. I felt bad about bailing the other day, so I caved and said sure, figuring I could use the distraction and she seemed to want to come.
I only have so much power to make dreams come true, so hey, might as well.
On the other side of the room, Brooke”s laughing with Nova and Sierra. She always looks good, but tonight, it’s as if the universe is out to sing her praises.
Brooke’s smile is a million watts. Her blue dress hugs her curves, ending in a school-girl-style skirt high on her toned thighs. Her black hair is swept into pigtails that end along her breasts. Her golden skin gleams in the low light. Dark-red lipstick traces every curve of her mouth, and my dog is parked next to her sparkly red shoes, looking up at her as though she hung the damn moon.
”See something you like?” Jay asks.
My attention snaps back, and I take a drink of my beer. “Just thinking it’s a good party.”
Brooke”s words come back to me.
Take me to Vail. Pretend you’re obsessed with me.
She could bring any guy she wanted. No need for pretending.
So, why the hell did she ask me?
Jay follows my gaze, misreading. ”I think one of the guys has a thing for her.”
“Really.” I try not to sound too interested.
”We”re already down a man with Atlas out. Don”t need to be down two unless there’s a solid reason.”
If one of the guys on our team hit on our point guard’s sister, it would be a problem. Most of the guys aren’t looking for serious relationships, and blowing off steam with another player’s family is bad form.
Still…“You’re that worried?” I ask.
“She’s my baby sister. I always worry. Thought it might stop when she was in college, but nope.”
She acts like she’s got it all together, confident and secure, but tonight, I saw the smallest crack.
“I’ll take care of it.” I head for the bar to collect a drink for him and one for me, and for an excuse to see Brooke on the way past.
But when I start back toward Jay, there”s no sign of Brooke. Or my dog.
Nova”s dancing with Clay, and Sierra”s talking with one of the guys from the bench.
“There you are!” Aliya gushes. Her perfume hits me like a brick wall.
“Hey.”
Somehow, she’s attached to me, her front glued to mine. “Want to get out of here?” she calls over the music.
It’s all honeyed sweetness to me, but even I couldn’t miss the way she acted with Brooke. It rubbed me the wrong way.
People show you their true selves when they don’t want something from you.
“Barely got here and it’s Jay’s party.” The guy is our captain and my friend, and I genuinely want to spend a rare night off with these guys. “You’re the one who asked to come,” I remind her.
I spot Brooke on the balcony. My dog is still at her feet, but it”s her other company that has me taking note.
Rookie.
He’s leaning in close, laughing at whatever she said.
Maybe Jay’s onto something.
Aliya’s hand trails over my shoulder. “How do you like my outfit?”
Rookie’s a kid. Barely knows which end of the court to shoot at.
He wouldn’t know how to treat her, how to look out for her, how to make her laugh.
“It’s nice.”
“It’ll look even better on your floor.”
I frown. “I should stick around for the younger guys for a bit. Set a good example.”
“You’re a world champion. You should do whatever you want.” She shifts closer, her lips getting near my ear. “You can do whatever you want to me.”
“Cool.” I sip my beer, half my attention on the patio.
When she peels off me, pivoting on her heels and making a beeline for… somewhere else, I should feel bad.
I don’t.
Brooke smiles broadly, laughing. When Rookie slides his arm around her waist, it’s like a flashing red light.
The last thing we need is Rookie stirring up trouble on the team.
Jay’s got his hands full with keeping the team in order, so maybe she needs someone looking out for her.
Someone like me.
I make my way through the crowd, bodies moving before I have to move them. I push through the door and out onto the balcony. The cool air hits me like a slap, but I’m too focused on my destination.
“Hey, Miles!” Rookie greets me with a smile.
“Hey,” I say, trying to keep the irritation out of my voice. “You guys having fun?”
“Yeah, we were just talking.”
“About?” I prompt, wedging between them.
“What are you—” Brooke starts.
”Nothing to worry about. Sit tight.”
I grab Rookie, drag him inside, and shift him—a little harder than necessary—against the wall.
“Whatever you think that is, it’s not happening.” My voice is pleasant, but the words aren’t.
Rookie snorts as though he’s not sure whether to laugh or defend himself. “What do you mean?”
I let the smile fade. “I mean, you make a move on Jay’s sister, you will not wake up tomorrow morning.” I lift my plastic axe. “We have a title to defend this year. It’s been a bumpy enough start to the season. You don’t fuck with the team, and Brooke is the team.”
“Okay! Jeez, I get it.” His grin remains, but he reaches up and pats my face.“You need to work on your Kenergy, my dude.”
* * *
brOOKE
I come up behind Miles and grab a fistful of faux fur, yanking.
The entire vest comes off in my hand.
Cheers go up from people around us, including appreciative noises from the women.
Dammit. I was trying to get Miles’s attention, not strip him in the middle of this party.
“What the hell was that?” I demand.
“Huh?” he says.
He”s shirtless, and it”s distracting. He’s tanned from a summer spent outside, his body the kind of perfect that makes me want a closer look at every inch.
To get my hormones under control, I stalk back out to the balcony, and he follows.
”I want to know why you were such a prick to Rookie.”
”Fuck, it”s freezing out here.” He glances at his vest, but I hold it away.
”Explain first. Fur vest second.”
He wraps his arms around himself, every muscle in his shoulders, pecs, and arms seeming to flex at once. Miles pulls the door shut behind him and turns back to face me.
“He’s a junior guy on the team. There are rules, some of ‘em formal and some of ‘em you just know.”
“And you know better than to tell me I’m one of those rules.” I raise an eyebrow, crossing my arms.
“You know what I mean.” He joins me in leaning against the railing.
Jay’s house has a view of the mountains. Nature is a sure-fire way to make you feel small.
“It’s not only about the Kodiaks,” Miles adds. “I don’t trust him. He’s young and inexperienced.”
“I’m a big girl, Miles. Not some helpless damsel in distress.”
I take a deep breath of the cool night air and wince, going over on my ankle.
A stream of curses escapes my lips.
“I broke a heel,” I explain at Miles’s look.
“Sure thing, Princess.” His lips twitch.
I bristle. Oh, no. That’s not a nickname I’m letting slide. “I’m not a princess.”
“Look like one to me. Got the shoes. The dress. The hair. The sidekick.” He nods to Waffles. “You need backup shoes. Never show up to a game with just one pair.”
I open the clip on my bag and wave my cheap slipper flats. “I came prepared, but the Louboutins look better with my costume.”
He crooks a finger at me.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I glance around us, suddenly feeling as if I’m about to be caught on camera for a massive prank.
I typically associate light-headedness with nights in college after too much flavored vodka. Or the time I played a high school basketball tournament and got so competitive and focused on watching the other teams’ games in between ours that I forgot to eat for an entire day.
But as Miles sinks to one knee at my feet, the blood is rushing to places that are not my head.
His fingers brush my skin as he takes my ankle in his hand. A not-unpleasant shiver runs up my spine.
What the fuck.
He slides off my heel, setting it on the deck where Waffles is huffing excitedly.
Music drifts from the other side of the glass doors. Inside, familiar and unfamiliar people dressed as pop stars and ghouls and superheroes laugh and drink and dance.
Out here, we’re alone.
Miles takes a slipper from my grip.
I’m so surprised I don’t think to resist when he slides it onto my foot.
“There.”
He switches to the other side. Heat spreads through my body. Sparks light me up. The feel of him touching me is strangely intimate.
Suddenly, I’m wondering what would happen if his hands traveled up my calf to my thigh and…
“Done.” Miles’s gaze lingers on my legs. ”Not worth twisting an ankle.”
“Beauty is pain,” I say lightly.
“You look good enough without them.”
Miles straightens to his full height, the moon generously highlighting the planes of his cut torso and shoulders.The words wrap around me the way he was wrapping his arms around himself a moment ago.
I”m more than a little drunk and tempted to drop his vest over the edge of the balcony for the good of humankind.
“Why do you want a date?” he asks.
I pull my brain out of the alternate universe in which I’m respectfully licking his chest.
“There’s a contract I want to win with this alum who’ll be there.” I don’t want to explain the details or how my competition is bringing my ex. “The entire weekend is a big social test, and it helps to have backup.”
Miles raises an eyebrow. “Backup with an axe?” He hooks the shoes on the plastic blade of the axe and lets both dangle from his grip.
“No.” I laugh. Is he going to make me say it? “Someone good looking, popular, charming.”
Miles studies me for a moment, his expression unreadable. “Brooke.”
“What?” I’m instantly suspicious.
He steps closer to me, his hand brushing a strand of hair away from my face. “You don”t need to prove anything to anyone.”
I feel myself warm, both from his words and the heat radiating off his body. “That’s not what I’m doing?—”
His mouth firms into a line. “I’m in.”
My brows shoot up, a laugh in my throat.“You’re uninvited.”
“I’m reinviting myself.”
My mouth falls open. Miles always knows how to surprise me. ”It”s the weekend after next. Friday night to Sunday morning.”
“No game until Monday.” He grins. “It”s a date.”