2. Miles
2
MILES
Hoopsnews Update: Kodiaks Cling To Third In The West Heading Into Holidays
“T hree wins in a row, baby! That’s what you call a streak,” Rookie hollers.
“Sit your short-attention-span ass on the bench and I’ll show you a streak,” Damon, one of our new guys, counters.
The Kodiaks are clustered around our gym, warmed up and ready to practice.
The last week of wins should have me riding high, especially since we got them on other teams’ home courts.
Somehow, the grin that usually comes as easily as breathing still takes effort.
“The road trip had some positive signs.” Coach addresses us from the front of practice. “But we need reinforcements.” He turns to the head trainer intently, willing him for good news.
Heading into December, the first six weeks of the season are finished and we’re starting to see what kind of team we have.
And, almost as important, what kind of team everyone else has.
We’re midway up the standings, which is midway down depending on how you look at it. It’s good enough to still be in line for a playoff spot, but it’s not enough to stop the talk that we won’t repeat as champions.
“It’s going to be a few more weeks before Atlas is back in workouts,” our trainer informs us.
Jay covers his face with both hands as he paces. Clay shifts back in his chair, jaw working.
Rookie throws a towel at Atlas, who lifts both hands as if to say, “Not my fault.”
Our bench guys mutter to one another. Winning pro basketball games is hard as hell.
“We’ve got Boston to look forward to soon, and I don’t have to tell you how tough they are. Especially this year.” Coach folds his arms.
“I can take Hawkins,” Jay tosses.
“Not what he’s saying,” Rookie says under his breath.
Jay growls.
Marcus Hawkins is Boston’s new point guard, traded from Philly. He took a strong team and made them even more dangerous.
More than that, the guy likes to talk trash.
I figured after the first couple weeks of the season, the media narratives about us being a one hit wonder would have faded.
Instead, they’ve been sharpened by the addition of an unofficial figurehead: Hawkins.
He shoots his mouth off at every opportunity.
Coaching staff is too new.
Clay Wade is on his way out.
Ellis and Garrett can’t cut it against all-star guards.
He’s a one-man hot take machine. They’re the kind of sound bites that would make my teeth grind together if I was a less chill guy.
No matter what’s going on outside, the basketball court is where I’m at home. There’s nothing as soothing as the sound of sneakers on floors, the smell of wax and sweat, the feel of the perfect three rolling off your fingertips.
For the next hour and a half, we’re focused.
“Ellis and Garrett.” Jay’s head and mine snap toward Coach at the end. “You were a step slow connecting. Let’s fix it before it becomes more of a problem.”
We’re back in the locker room, when Jay says, “We should go out tonight.”
“We shouldn’t,” Clay murmurs.
“We’ve earned it. It’s good for morale,” Jay argues. He turns to me, waiting for my backup.
“I’m beat. Going to run some things over to Grams, then crash.” I grab a towel and head for the shower.
Since the hospital called me in the middle of the night in Vail, I’ve been dealing with Grams.
It hasn’t been the easiest thing given we’ve been on the road most of the week, but I’ve called the hospital and the retirement home often enough that they probably curse the second they see me on the call display.
“Broken wrist,” the doctors said.
Given the fall, it could’ve been worse.
Yet since she’s been in a cast, she seems to have gotten more active and opinionated. From the second I drove her home, she’s been determined to prove to the entire world she’s stronger than ever.
I need to get her into a better situation with more care.
I even thought about moving her into my place, but I can’t care for her the way she needs and don’t have time to try to find or interview potential staff to help her when I’m not there.
Still, there’s another situation that’s got me tossing and turning.
Brooke Ellis.
My teammate’s little sister.
The woman I can’t get out of my head.
I slept with Brooke in Vail.
Wish I could chalk it up to getting her out of my system, but even before she kissed me in that hot tub and I practically dragged her back to our room, I was way too invested.
Thing is, she hasn’t seemed interested in talking since.
I tried calling her this week.
Not once, but three times.
Maybe her phone’s broken.
When I get out of the shower, my phone’s lit up with texts from the BearFam chat.
Jay: We should go out tonight. Who’s in?
Chloe: Ownership has a new advertiser I’m trying to recruit.
Rookie: It’ll keep til tomorrow. B?
Brooke: I’m auditioning roommates.
I’m about to drop my phone in my bag when the message comes through.
So much for her phone being broken.
“Since when is little sis looking for a roommate?” I ask Jay, who’s getting dressed at his locker a couple down from mine.
My voice is completely level.
No, fuck level, I sound amused , as though it’s cute she’s thinking of sleeping next to a complete stranger, of sharing her space—her life—with someone she hardly knows.
Jay lifts a shoulder and types.
Jay: Since when are you getting a roommate?
Brooke: Since I realized I miss having Nova as my roommate and need some company in my 2 br.
Rookie: You accepting applications? I don’t need to sleep in the second br. We can share :D
Jay: Only sleep you’ll be doing is in a coma.
She doesn’t want to come to me?
No sweat.
I’ve never had to chase down a woman before.
But then, Brooke makes me do a lot of things I’ve never done.
* * *
Mile High is our place, but once in a while, we like to go somewhere with dance music.
Being in a club makes me feel twenty-two again. No matter how much a drink costs, I can’t get over the floors, the flashing lights, or the pulsing EDM that makes my eardrums vibrate like the Kodiak Arena shaking during finals last year.
Can’t remember the last time we were here. It was definitely before we started our new season, and Atlas got hurt, and Brooke asked me to pretend to be her fake boyfriend, and I got the call in the middle of the night about my grams.
It feels like forever ago.
“If I were an animal, I’d be a goat,” Rookie calls over the music.
“You’re saying that because want to be the G.O.A.T., which you’ve got to earn,” Damon shouts back.
“You planning to steal that title while Clay’s asleep? Because if he’s awake, you’re going to have to fight him for it,” Jay points out.
“Anytime, anywhere. But as a backup, I’d be an ostrich. Fast as fuck and scary too.” The guys laugh and Rookie turns to me. “What about you?”
There are plenty of fans here to stroke my ego. Before I can respond, one of them grabs my arm, smiling up at me.
“You’re Miles Garrett! I started watching basketball because of you,” a brunette calls over the music.
“Oh yeah? Tell me what you learned.”
I’m a personable guy, and being nice to fans is a knee-jerk reaction.
“Basketball players are really big. Pretty much all over six feet.” She announces it as if she’s discovered a new wonder of the world. “They’re probably big everywhere.”
My gaze is scanning the club, but the innuendo hits me over the head.
“Stands to reason.”
None of this interaction takes a single ounce of my attention when Brooke walks in the door with Sierra and Nova.
Her hair is down in wild curls around her head. Her lips are dark against her golden skin, her eyes lined. Her black dress is sparkly, dipping low between her perfect breasts and ending high on her toned thighs.
Thank fuck for whatever designer made heels that tall. Makes it easier for a big guy like me to see and appreciate every inch of her.
It’s been a week since I’ve seen her. The social posts I shamelessly watched for clues to her state of mind and simply to look at her don’t count.
She’s alive and grinning and gorgeous.
Suddenly, I’m picturing her on her knees, her fingers wrapped around me. The heat of her mouth, the sounds she’d make as if she knew exactly what she was doing, taking me apart one wet stroke at a?—
Shit. This went south fast.
Her eyes find me and there’s not enough air in my lungs.
She could do any number of things. Roll her eyes, shake her pretty head. Slice through the crowd on her high heels and press up to yell in my ear what an asshole I am.
I want her to.
Instead, she turns away.
In the dark I can admit I’m butthurt.
Yeah, I bailed early on our weekend, but I had my reasons. She hasn’t given me time to explain. I thought she knew me better than that.
I’m tempted to drag her into a hallway where she can only hear me, that’s impossible with the entire team around us.
A rough purring noise interrupts my thoughts. After a beat, I realize it’s coming from the woman I converted to basketball.
“Are you okay?” I ask, concerned. Maybe she’s having some kind of allergic reaction.
“I’m growling. Like a bear’s mating call.” She blinks thick eyelashes at me.
My gaze drags back to Brooke, who’s moving toward the bar.
“Bears usually vocalize when they’re feeling threatened,” I offer before cutting through the crowd toward Brooke.
From behind, I get a chance to look at her as she pushes her hair over one shoulder. Her skin is damp with sweat.
“You dodging my calls?” I’m trying to sound as though I don’t care if the answer is yes or no.
She glances back. “Been busy.”
Any other girl, I’d take it at face value, but she responds to people she cares about. She responds when something matters.
The bartender sets four glasses in front of her—for her, Nova, Sierra, and Chloe, I’m guessing. Brooke tries to grab them all at once. The final glass wobbles precariously.
I step in, taking it before she can stop me. “Figured you might want to thank me for coming to that reunion with you. Braving an entire resort full of strangers to save your ass.”
“Except they weren’t strangers, were they? You were already acquainted with everyone from Kappa. Especially Kevin.”
His name on her lips throws what I was about to say out the window. My gut clenches. “Whatever he said, Princess?—”
“He didn’t say anything. Caroline told me you hit him.”
Damn it.
That’s worse, because it means the piece of shit talked to someone.
He wasn’t supposed to let that get around. It was the only thing we agreed on, for mutually beneficial reasons.
“Brooke,” I start.
“Did he hit you first?”
My head falls back.
“It doesn’t matter,” she shouts. “Jay explained why you did it. You don’t owe me anything.”
She pushes past me, starting for her friends who’re leaning against the railing around the dance floor.
The pulsing beat throbs through my feet. I feel it more and more the closer we get to the floor.
A crowd passes in front of her, forcing us to bunch up. My fingers wrap around her arm and tug so her back until she hits my chest.
“What’s with this roommate business?” I call next to her ear as we wait for the path to clear. “Don’t tell me it was brought on by some sudden ‘I miss sharing a bathroom with another human’ bullshit.”
The comment earns me side-eye. “My rent’s going up, and I didn’t get the deal with Elise. She picked Caroline over me.”
Surprise sets me back. “Because?”
“Caroline had this video from the retreat.” Brooke turns back toward the crowd.
She’s trying to look unaffected, but in profile, I see the hurt underneath.
There’s only one thing Caroline could’ve had video of.
Our time in the hot tub comes back to me, the heat of it, the longing. The absolute fuck-everyone-else of it, because it was Brooke and me and it was enough.
This is my fault.
I wanted to help her, and instead, I let my damned hunger for her block out everything else.
“I’ll pay your rent,” I call over the music.
“Yeah, no.” She laughs in my face. “You’re not my boyfriend, real or fake. The gig is over.”
She shifts the two drinks into one arm and grabs the other from me, then pushes through the crowd to her friends.
What is it with this girl?
Never figured I had a thing for stubborn, independent women. With Brooke, I can’t decide if it’s a feature or a bug.
Two more beers disappear in a heartbeat.
“It’s nothing, right?” I look up to see Jay at my shoulder.
“What?”
“What Coach said. That you and me are a step slow.”
“Of course not. It was a couple of missed connections. My head’s been all over with my grams.”
He nods slowly.
“This is about Hawkins shooting his mouth off,” I guess.
Jay smooths a hand over his braids. “Nah. Just a long road to playoffs. A lot on my shoulders.”
“Not only yours,” I remind him. “We’ll get there.”
I’m a little drunk and can’t resist saying, “You’re going to talk her out of this shit, right?”
He follows my gaze toward where Brooke is dancing, her hands in the air and her smile flashing bright in the lights.
“She wants to live with a rando. That’s how bad things happen.” Triggering her brother’s fears isn’t the most aboveboard way to crack down on this, but it’ll have to do.
He squares to face me. “She asked me to be more trusting, and she told me to back off.”
“Then move her in with you,” I try.
“My place is getting renovated. She doesn’t want the construction in her face.”
So much for Jay helping.
“Hey,” I go on, the beer definitely going to my head. “What did you tell her about what happened with Kevin? You know, so we’re all on the same page.”
He blinks at me. “The truth.”
Right.
Because we all have the same version of what went down.
As I nurse another beer and watch her without looking like I am, I know she’s going to ignore my advice from earlier like she ignores every other thing she doesn’t want to hear.
It’s obvious she wants nothing to do with me, and getting inside her stubborn head is harder than breaking into the NBA.
Yeah, well, two can be stubborn .
There’s one option. It’s an obvious overstepping of any boundaries between us.
Princess is going to hate it.
I’m fine with that.