Chapter 19
CHAPTER
NINETEEN
TESSA
“This is so not fun,” I say, stopping dead at the threshold of the gymnasium door.
“What are you talking about? It’s gonna be great,” Logan says, gently nudging me forward with a hand on my lower back.
I don’t budge. “I know we’ve only known each other for a little bit,” I say, digging in my heels, “but this is definitely not what I would put in the fun category. I don’t play sports. I got out of gym class at every school I went to, whenever it was even remotely possible.”
He chuckles, the sound warm and entirely too amused. “Believe me, you don’t need to know how to play.”
“Logan.” I point across the shining gym floor, where a bunch of guys from the team and their significant others are already warming up—dribbling and passing basketballs, stretching, laughing. They all look comfortable. Athletic. “It looks like I’m going to need to play. I don’t know how to play.”
He shakes his head, still grinning. “I promise you don’t need to possess any skill whatsoever.
Only one girl on the whole team actually knows how to play, and that’s Miranda—Miles’s girlfriend.
And honestly, it’s girls versus guys, and the girls win every time because of her.
” He leans in conspiratorially. “Now, yes, rules and fouls don’t really seem to come into play, so the girls play dirty—but I promise you’ll catch on quickly. And it’ll be fun.”
He pauses, his voice dropping. “Unless you’re not up to it.” His eyes flick over me, assessing, and I know exactly what he’s thinking—my injuries. The bruises that are still fading to that sickly yellow-green. Whether I’m healed enough for this.
“No, it’s not because of that,” I say quickly, wrapping my arms around myself. “I don’t hurt anymore. I’m fine.”
“Oh. Good.” The relief that washes over his face is so genuine it makes my chest tighten.
“Just give it a chance. I promise you’ll be glad you did.
We started playing these pickup games between the Crane players and their wives and girlfriends a couple of months ago, and it’s been so fun that we made it a regular thing. ”
“All right.” I pull in a breath and force my feet to move. “I’ll trust you and try it.”
“Good,” he says, his smile returning full force. “That’s all I ask.”
I follow Logan into the gym, my sneakers squeaking against the floor.
“Sean!” one of the guys—who I recognize as Cade, Iris’s husband—calls out from half-court. He’s got a basketball tucked under one arm, his other hand gesturing impatiently. “It’s about time you got here. We thought you weren’t gonna show.”
“You know I like to be fashionably late,” Logan replies.
“All right, all right.” Jaden waves us over. “Come on. We need to talk about our strategy.”
“Today is the day we finally beat them,” Bash adds confidently, jogging over to join them. He’s already sweating, like he’s been warming up for an hour.
Logan glances back at me, giving me an encouraging nod before jogging off to join the guys huddled near the far basket.
“Tessa!” I turn to see Miranda running toward me, her ponytail swinging, a huge grin on her face. She grabs my hand and pulls me toward the group of women gathering on the other side of the court.
“Come on, you’re with us,” she says.
Besides the four women I already know—Penny, Iris, Anna, and Miranda—I’m introduced to Ari and Delaney.
Ari cups her hands around her mouth and shouts up toward the bleachers, where a woman sits with a couple of young kids. “Mom! Wave to Tessa!”
The woman—who must be Elena, Beckett’s wife—waves enthusiastically, and the little boy beside her mimics the gesture.
“That’s my mom,” Ari explains, turning back to me. “She watches her little one, Nolan, plus Max and Delaney’s baby, Caroline, during the games.”
I smile and wave back.
Jack, one of my bodyguards, stands near the exit of the gym, his head moving back and forth, scanning the place. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to having a bodyguard.
I turn back to the girls. “So you all really get together regularly to play ball with the guys?”
“Pretty regularly now that we have Miranda,” Ari says, bouncing a basketball once and catching it. “It’s just really fun beating the guys at a sport since they get a little cocky when it comes to athletics.”
“A little cocky?” Penny scoffs, hands on her hips. “That’s generous.”
Anna laughs. “They act like they’re the gods of sports, but we always beat ’em.”
“Yep. We destroy them,” Miranda says with a wicked grin. “Every. Single. Time.”
“I just want to give you all a fair warning,” I say, my stomach twisting with nerves. “I don’t know how to play basketball. Like at all.”
“Oh, that’s fine,” Anna says easily, waving a hand. “None of us really do, besides Miranda. It’s really just about having fun. You only need a couple of strategies, and you’ll be good to go.”
“Strategies?” I repeat skeptically.
“Strategy number one,” Miranda says, clapping her hands together like a coach about to send her team into battle, “is don’t let them shoot.
No matter what. We don’t really call fouls, so if you have to hit the ball out of their hands, hold their arm, or completely body-check them—it’s fine. Just don’t let them shoot.”
A few of the girls nod seriously, like this is the most important tactical briefing they’ve ever received.
“And strategy number two,” Miranda continues, holding up two fingers, “is get the ball to me.”
She grins, wide and unapologetic. “That’s it. That’s the whole strategy.”
I blink at her. “That’s the entire plan?”
“Yes,” Anna says solemnly, like we’re discussing matters of national security.
Miranda points at me, her expression turning serious. “Do you understand the assignment?”
I look around at all of them—Penny trying not to laugh, Iris nodding encouragingly, and Delaney stretching her hamstrings like she’s preparing for war.
“I think so,” I say slowly. “Violence is encouraged, and I pass you the ball.”
“Exactly,” Miranda declares, clearly pleased. She claps me on the shoulder. “You’re gonna do great.”
“Also,” Penny adds, leaning in conspiratorially, “if you’re ever confused about what to do, just stand in front of Logan. He’ll get flustered and mess up.”
“That’s not strategy,” I protest, even as my face heats.
“It’ll be effective,” Iris singsongs with a grin.
“Trust us,” Anna says. “We’ve been doing this for months. We know their weaknesses.”
Across the gym, Logan catches my eye again. He must see the panic on my face because he laughs and calls out, “You got this, Tessa!”
“Do I?” I call back.
“Absolutely not!” Jaden shouts cheerfully. “We’re gonna destroy you guys today!”
“In your dreams!” Ari yells back, her competitive side fully activated.
“All right, ladies,” Penny says, clapping her hands. “Let’s show them how it’s done. Again.”
The women huddle together, hands stacked in the middle like a real team.
“On three,” Miranda says. “One, two, three—”
“Girls!” they all shout in unison, throwing their hands up.
I can’t help but laugh.
I look across the court to where Logan stands with the guys, already arguing about something basketball-related. He catches my eye and grins, giving me a thumbs-up.
Despite my nerves, I find myself smiling back.
Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.
The game starts with Gunnar throwing the ball up for tip-off, and Jaden immediately swats it toward the guys’ side. But Miranda is faster—she darts in, steals it midair, and takes off down the court.
“Miranda’s got it!” Penny yells, and we all scramble to follow.
I’m already breathing hard, and we’ve only been playing for ten seconds.
Miranda doesn’t hesitate. She pulls up just past the three-point line and shoots. The ball arcs through the air in a perfect spiral and drops through the net with a clean swish.
“Three!” all the women scream in unison.
“Oh, come on!” Max throws his hands up. “We literally just started!”
“Should’ve covered her,” Delaney says sweetly, jogging backward with a grin.
The guys get the ball next. Logan dribbles it down the court, and I remember Penny’s advice, so I run up and plant myself directly in his path.
He nearly trips over his own feet.
“Tessa, what are you—” He tries to pivot around me, but I mirror his movements, staying right in front of him.
“I’m playing defense,” I say innocently.
“That’s not—” His sentence cuts off when Iris comes out of nowhere and slaps the ball clean out of his hands.
“Steal!” Iris shouts, already passing it to Anna.
Logan stares at me, half laughing, half exasperated. “You’re playing dirty.”
“I was told to.” I shrug, grinning.
“Oh, you’re gonna pay for that,” he says, but he’s smiling.
Anna makes it halfway down the court before Jaden wraps his arms around her waist from behind, lifting her completely off the ground.
“Foul!” Anna shrieks, laughing. “That’s a foul!”
“We don’t call fouls, remember?” Jaden says, grinning as he sets her down and steals the ball.
“That rule only applies to us!” Iris yells.
The game descends into beautiful chaos.
Miranda sinks another three-pointer while Jaden tries—and fails—to block her.
Delaney accidentally elbows Finn in the ribs while going for a rebound, and he doubles over dramatically like he’s been shot.
Ari gets tangled up with Beckett, and they both end up on the floor, laughing too hard to get up.
I’m running up and down the court, completely out of breath, with absolutely no idea what I’m doing. But every time I get near Logan, he fumbles. When I stand close to him, his dribbling gets sloppy. When I reach for the ball, he hesitates just long enough for one of the other women to steal it.
“You’re doing this on purpose,” he accuses during a break in play, breathing hard.
“Doing what?” I ask, all innocence.
“Being distracting.”
“I’m just standing here.”
“Exactly,” he says, and the look in his eyes makes my stomach flip.
“Yo, Sean!” Gunnar yells. “Stop flirting and play defense!”
Logan grins at me before jogging away.
The score is tied when Miranda gets the ball again with thirty seconds left. She’s at the three-point line. Jaden is directly in front of her with his arms up.
“Not this time!” Jaden says.
Miranda doesn’t even blink. She fakes left, spins right, and launches the ball in one smooth motion.
Everyone freezes, watching it arc through the air.
Swish.
The women erupt into screams. We’re all jumping and hugging and laughing so hard I can barely breathe.
“No!” Miles shouts, dropping to his knees.
“That’s game!” Miranda yells, pumping her fists in the air.
The guys are in various states of defeat—Jaden lying flat on his back on the court, Cade with his hands on his head, and Logan shaking his head but laughing.
“You guys are the worst winners,” Finn groans.
“And you guys are the worst losers,” Penny shoots back.
We all collapse onto the gym floor, sprawled out in a sweaty, exhausted pile of humans. I’m lying on my back, staring up at the ceiling, my chest heaving as I try to catch my breath. My hair is stuck to my forehead, my shirt is damp with sweat, and every muscle in my body is screaming.
I can’t remember the last time I felt this good.
Logan drops down beside me, propping himself up on his elbow. “So? Was I right?”
I turn my head to look at him. “About what?”
“That it would be fun.”
I’m smiling so hard my cheeks hurt. “Yeah,” I say breathlessly. “You were right.”
His grin widens. “I usually am.”
I reach over and shove his shoulder weakly. “Don’t ruin it.”
He laughs, the sound warm and easy, and lies back on the floor beside me.
All around us, people are still talking and laughing—trash-talking the game and already planning the rematch.
Miranda is doing a victory lap around the court.
Ari is trying to convince Bash to admit she’s better at defense than he is.
Delaney is lecturing Max about how he needs to take this more seriously.
And I’m here, lying on a gym floor surrounded by people I barely know, sweaty and exhausted and happy in a way I didn’t think I was allowed to be anymore.
For the first time in a couple of years, I feel light.
Logan’s hand finds mine on the floor between us, his pinky hooking around mine so gently.
And I don’t pull away.