Chapter 8 #2
I scrunched my nose up at that. “Shit, are we old? We got old, right? When the fuck did that happen?”
Nate’s laughter burst loudly into the empty court. I grinned at the sound. “We’re not even thirty, so no, we’re not fucking old. Hell, I finally believe that forty isn’t old anymore. Not now I can see it creeping up on us so quickly.”
“Okay, so not old, just dags, since I can’t think of a decent wager or whatever.”
“Sounds about right.” Shifting to stand before me, he took the ball from my hands. “How about we just shoot, and you can—” He cut off midsentence, a flash of amusement filling his eyes, and I winced, knowing that whatever he’d thought of would take daggy to a whole new level.
“Okay, to make it fair since you’re the pro who gets paid the big bucks, every hoop I get two points, you get one. First to thirty. The loser has to find a bar or club or something and dance the ‘Nutbush.’”
I waited for a beat to see if he was kidding before I widened my eyes and snorted out a laugh.
“‘Nutbush,’ the dance? Are you serious?” Hell, I’d last done that at our Year Twelve formal. There was nothing quite like a graduating party to break out our moves.
“Yeah. It’ll help you prepare for your trip back home… just in case.”
“Just in case?” I asked.
“Well, you know there’s bound to be a time a deejay plays the damn thing if we head out, especially if it’s a cheesy bar, and you’re going to be called out if you can’t remember your moves. They’re gonna pull your Aussie card for sure.” The glint in his eyes was pure fun and teasing.
“And obviously if I win”—’cause I expected that was the way it would go—“you’ll stand up and dance to it?” I tilted my head to drink in his reaction. Nate had never been one for the spotlight. Sure, he was up for having a laugh, but he was happier when others took the lead.
“Yeah, straight up, I will.”
I grinned and reached out my hand. “Deal,” I said as his palm connected with mine, and we shook on it.
We took it in turns, each shot from the three-point line. With each successful shot he made, surprise flicked to life in my gut. I’d forgotten what a good shot he was. “How are you still so good at this?” I asked, angling toward him and quirking my brow.
His shrug was nonchalant, but I wasn’t buying it.
“Spill.”
“I have a hoop at home, plus I put one up at your gran’s a while back. What can I say? I like taking the ball out every now and then.”
My brows rose in surprise. “You do? But you pretty much hated the game when we were kids.”
His shrug was a little less nonchalant this time.
“I may have stuck with it after you left. I stopped playing for the Sunny Coast.” I didn’t miss the sadness in his eyes before he glanced away, bouncing the basketball at his feet and showing a little too much interest in it.
He cleared his throat before continuing. “I just needed a link still.”
I swallowed hard, a flash of pain hitting my chest. “To me?” I asked quietly, both heartbroken and crazily touched if that was the case.
“Yeah.” Nate’s gaze found mine. “It’s been hard, was stupid hard for a while when you left. I just felt… I don’t know. It’s ridiculous.”
I shook my head and shuffled my feet, though I refused to look away. When we were kids, we’d been close and shared almost every thought and feeling with each other. But this sharing right now, as grown-ass adults, pushed my discomfort into overdrive.
But I couldn’t pull away. I needed Nate’s words, his truth.
“It’s not ridiculous. Tell me. Please.”
“Even at uni I played around with a basketball almost every day. It was my half-arsed attempt to stay connected to you.” He shook his head, just once, a soft smile tilting his lips a fraction. “You leaving, then you ghosting me, fuck, Ryan, it all but destroyed me.”
Instantly, my throat constricted, and sadness slammed into me thick and fast. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
He bobbed his head, eyes still on me despite the wetness evident in their depths. “I know you are. Are you going to tell me why? I know you shared some stuff with me, but there’s more.”
“There is?” I was full of it, and we both knew it, but I couldn’t do this now.
Nate’s lips pulled tight, and he arched a brow at me, calling me out.
“When the season’s over, okay?” I didn’t elaborate, but I didn’t need to. Not with Nate.
“Fair enough.” There was a slight rise in his chest, and I felt the action as if it were my own: that need for a deep breath to pull myself together. “I score the next two, you’re screwed and are going to be asking for Tina Turner.” While his smile was a little tighter, I accepted the shift.
I gave a one-shoulder shrug. “Tina Turner’s ‘Nutbush’ will find a new lease of life in the States if that’s the case.” I wriggled my brows, and Nate snorted out a laugh.
“Whatever you say, Broadwater. I’m looking forward to it.”
Four minutes later, Nate was laughing his head off, and I was already considering the quietest, most remote bar I could think of when we headed back to Minnesota that I could take him to. The fewer people to witness my god-awful dance moves, the better.
“Okay, calm your farm, Nate. Next time your ass is mine.”
He quirked his brows and laughed even louder when heat whipped around my body, scalding my face so fast, it was like taking a visit to the sun or some shit.
“Whatever.” I rolled my eyes and smirked. I wasn’t ready for that conversation yet. “Shower, and then we can head out for food?”
His laughter eased off, and he nodded. “Sounds good.”
“You still doing okay; not jet-lagged?”
“All good. That bed made all the difference.”
“Good,” I answered. “I’ll still need an earlyish night, though. I have to head out for a run in the morning.”
“The gym?”
“Nah, can’t stand running machines. If I can avoid them, I will every time. I think there’s a few parks nearby, so I’ll head out there. You can join with if you want.”
Nate’s scrunched nose was adorable.
“I’ll take that as a no.”
“You can take that as a hell no.”
“You know, exercise makes you sweat, and there’s nothing sexier than a naked, sweaty body.
” The words fell out of my mouth unbidden, and heat hit my cheeks.
It was something Jayden said regularly, and I’d always laughed it off, but with Nate, even the idea of him naked had me almost swallowing my tongue at the image that evoked.
Wide-eyed, he stared at me a beat before grinning. “Yeah, I’ve heard that about exercise. But you know what?”
“What?” I asked, willing my cheeks to cool.
“So does whisky.”
His grin was wide, and I was still so caught up with the possibility of Nate naked that it took me a moment to hear and understand his words.
My laughter bubbled over. “Fair enough. As long as with that doesn’t come whisky dick, I’m sure you’re golden.
” I grinned as we collected our things and started the few blocks’ walk back to the hotel.
We strolled in companionable silence for a block before Nate asked, “I was kind of expecting you to be battling fans chasing you and cameras and stuff. Is this normal? You wandering around and things like this with no one bothering you?”
I shrugged and took a surreptitious glance around.
I’d done so as soon as we left the court and multiple times since.
That Nate hadn’t noticed meant I was excelling at my sneaky, incognito skills.
“I stay out of the papers and gossip mags as much as I can. Honestly, I rarely head out. I think it means that fans and paps and such aren’t actively looking, or at least they never expect to see me out and about. ”
“It must be crazy.”
“It can be, but I’ve worked hard at trying to live as normally as possible.”
Nate glanced at me, no doubt taking in how I’d pulled my nondescript cap down just so, or the regular-Joe clothes I wore.
“It sounds like you’re a hermit. Not sure that’s normal.
” There was no barb in his tone. If anything, a hint of sadness wrapped around his words.
“You loved going out, causing chaos, getting attention when we were younger.”
Nostalgia, as well as a pang of longing for a simpler time, awoke in my chest. It stretched a little too uncomfortably as it brushed against my heart.
“It sounds lonely.”
I swallowed and worked hard to concentrate on the pavement without becoming overly emotional at the impact of his words.
All I could do was shrug, and when I was sure my voice wouldn’t come out shaky, I said, “Being on the court is as amazing today as it was eight or even four years ago. The rest… it seems like a small price to pay for playing in the League.” This time I didn’t risk side-eyeing him, worried at what emotion I may see reflected in his turned face.
After a beat, he thankfully changed the subject, giving me a reprieve. “You say the team’s getting in at midday tomorrow, right?”
I bobbed my head.
“You need for me to make myself scarce?”
“No,” I answered immediately. We had such little time with each other that I wanted every moment I could have with Nate.
“Coach and some of the guys know you’re here.
Jayden and Sutton will give me shit if they don’t meet you straightaway.
” I rolled my eyes and smirked, working hard to ignore the flip in my stomach at the idea of them all meeting.
Since that moment a few weeks back when Sutton had made his impromptu speech about gay players, there hadn’t been another incident. Thank Christ. But it made me all levels of nervous.
They knew Nate was important to me, but I had no idea if seeing us together would raise questions.
Overthinking this all was doing my nut in, but my attraction to Nate hovered beneath my skin, danced in my stomach, and set those fluttering wings alive in my chest whenever I looked at the guy.
And when I was close, or when he laughed and that sweat trickled down his face that I wanted to lick off, I didn’t know how good of a job I was doing at hiding my attraction.
For eight years or so, I’d had practice at playing it straight. While it hurt to do, it had become second nature. But around Nate, with my renewed feelings for the guy running rampant, the fear that my friends would know fed into my worry.
“They both have another year’s contract, right?”
I nodded in response, giving myself a moment to get my thoughts back on track. “Yeah, and at the moment, I think they’re both hoping for another couple of years.” As soon as I spoke, I grimaced, not wanting to open up a discussion about contracts.
But it was out there, and immediately after came Nate’s question: “And what about you?”
I side-glanced him as we continued down the block. “I haven’t decided yet.” I looked away.
“No? And that means…?”
“It means I haven’t decided if I want to stay, trade, or maybe even come home.
” It was the first time I’d said those words aloud.
The world didn’t stop turning, the pavement didn’t crack open beneath my feet, and a hundred paps didn’t jump out at me.
I smiled inwardly, reminding myself that really, no one gave a shit about whether I played or not.
There’d always be more great players coming up in the drafts.
The idea was as liberating as it was shocking.
I’d taken a couple of steps before I realized Nate had stopped dead in his tracks. I turned to face him.
Wide-eyed, he stared up at me, his mouth parted ever so slightly, and a flush of color from his previously cooling cheeks sat high on the sides of his face. “You might come home? Back to Australia? Queensland?”
My gaze roamed his before dipping lower. His chest expanded as though taking a deep breath. Returning my focus on his eyes, I nodded. “I might. I’ve got a lot to figure out.”
“But you love basketball.”
“I do.”
“Don’t forget there’s basketball in Australia.” His stare was unwavering, searching. Still silent, he nodded before moving forward again, indicating for us to continue. “Another conversation for after?” he asked quietly.
My chuckle was light. “Yeah, definitely.”