2. PAUL
“Oh my God! Are you Paul Weston?”
Stopping dead in my tracks, I spin around on the balls of my feet, longing to see those angelic emerald-green eyes I’ve been dreaming about for the past month.
The ones I see every single damn time I have my hand wrapped around my cock with my eyes closed, savoring my delicious memory from the night with the girl of my dreams.
The girl with no name.
Or, as I’ve been referring to her in my head, She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.
But as my eyes land on the girl before me with long, straight blonde hair and dull brown eyes that widen in my presence, I let out a disappointed sigh.
No, she is most definitely not the girl from my dreams.
Her red-headed friend beside her grips her shoulder in excitement. You would think this would be something I’d be used to by now, but I’m not.
And it hasn’t seemed to get any easier over time.
If anything, it makes me feel more isolated and alone.
Sometimes, I feel like an animal in a zoo, biding my time in an enclosure behind a glass wall for everyone to gawk at, purely because of the last name on my basketball jersey.
But they don’t know me.
Not the real me.
I plaster on a fake smile, knowing these girls are fans and it’s not their fault I feel like this.
This is a me problem.
“Yes, I am.” I hitch my sports bag over my shoulder, rolling my neck.
“Could I… I mean, can you sign something for me?” the blonde girl asks nervously.
“Of course. What did you want me to sign?”
She opens her purse, digging through it, and then quickly pulls out a Sharpie.
“Can you sign my shirt?” She turns around, moving her blonde hair over her shoulder. It takes me a second to realize she’s wearing my jersey.
Taking the Sharpie from her, I lean down to sign her back.
This girl’s not too short, probably just over five feet tall. But being six foot nine can make most average-sized people appear small compared to me.
Something I’m very used to.
Of course, it didn’t deter She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. If anything, she loved it. Proven when she climbed me like her own personal ladder, wrapping her luscious thighs around my waist as I fu—
“Thank you!” the girl squeals in excitement, taking the Sharpie from my hand.
“Anytime,” I respond, internally shaking my head to rid myself of thoughts of that night.
Not something I’ve easily been able to do.
The two girls walk away giggling as I turn and continue into the locker room, finding my teammates prepping for practice.
“Look who it is. The legend himself!” Glen, my friend from grade school and now my teammate on the Linrey University basketball team, broadcasts as I make my way over to my locker. He jumps up, trying to tap me on the head, but, like always, comes up too short.
A few guys from the team pat me on the shoulder or fist bump me as I sit on the bench, dropping my bag to the floor.
“Coach Rivers wants to see you,” Tony, one of our shooting guards, informs me.
“Do you know what he wants?” The zipper on my bag snags as I yank it back, revealing my essentials for practice: headband, sports drink, protein bar, and basketball shoes.
He shakes his head and then shifts it toward the coach’s office. “All I know is that Greyson is in there too.”
Greyson Black, the captain of the Linrey University basketball team.
I’ve never liked the guy.
Something has just always felt off about him, so I make sure to keep my distance. And he usually does the same to me.
“Thanks.” Quickly, I change into my practice uniform and throw my bag into my locker before walking to Coach Rivers’ door. My hand wraps around the silver handle as I hesitantly push it open, unsure what to expect. “You wanted to see me, Coach?”
“Yes, Paul, please take a seat.” He motions toward the chair in front of his desk, placed beside Greyson.
Greyson doesn’t look at me as I approach, taking a seat. Nor does he show any emotion on his face besides a clenched jaw as he stares straight ahead, his fists tightened by his sides.
“I was just discussing logistics for this year with Greyson,” Coach deadpans.
“Logistics?” I ask.
He nods, sitting back in his seat as he places his right ankle over his left knee. “Yes. I’ll cut straight to the point. We want to offer you a place as a captain for your senior year.”
And now, I know why Greyson looks ready to murder me.
“But Greyson is the captain,” I counter.
“Yes. Yes. Well, we were looking to have you both be co-captains of sorts. Having the two of you as head figures for the other team members to look up to will be motivational.”
Motivational?
I wish he would just say the real reason.
They want me to be captain because of my last name.
Weston.
Just like the famous Steve Weston.
Aka my dad.
Making me captain will guarantee more publicity for the team, which the organization wants and needs.
I sigh, rubbing at my chest. “Sir, I would be honored, but…” I glance at Greyson. “This doesn’t feel right. I only joined the team in the spring after transferring here, and Greyson has been here for three years now.”
“Greyson doesn’t mind. Do you?” Coach Rivers directs his sight on Greyson as his fingers steeple in front of him, waiting for Greyson to respond.
Greyson turns his head toward me, an unpleasant grin appearing. “Not at all. It would be an honor to share the spotlight with Paul Weston.”
The smug way he enunciates my last name goes right over the coach’s head.
“Good.” Coach nods, sitting up. “Paul, there’s also a couple of scouts out there to watch you today. I’ll make the announcement at the beginning of practice so they’re all aware of what’s going on.”
Squeezing the back of my neck, I nod. “Sounds great, Coach.”
No, it doesn’t. It sounds fucking horrible.
He stands from his desk, grabs some folders, and prepares to leave. “Well, see you boys out there.”
The moment the door closes behind him, I feel Greyson’s beady blue eyes latch onto me.
The tension in the room could be cut with a knife.
A big fat fucking steak knife.
Greyson shakes his head and gets up, walking toward the door when I stop him.
“Wait, Greyson.” I grab his shoulder. “I didn’t want this. I can tell them I won’t accept if that’s what you want. I understand if—”
He laughs, shoving my hand off of his shoulder.
Eyeing me up and down with a condescending scowl, he sneers, “Better keep both eyes open out there.” While walking out of the room, his fist connects with a locker, denting the metal. As he passes through the space, the heads of every nearby player turn to gape.
Glen walks up beside me, his eyes on Greyson’s back as he walks out the door. “What the fuck was that about?”
I scratch the back of my head, exhaling deeply. “I think I just ended up on Greyson’s shit list.”
Glen lets out a low whistle. “You’re so fucked, man.”
Wiser words have never been spoken.
* * *
The wind whips at my face as splashes of saltwater caress my warm, sun-beaten skin. It’s the last summer weekend before school resumes, and I plan to do what I do best.
Relax.
“Don’t get too comfortable. I’m going to need your help eventually,” Nate announces as we come to a dead stop, surrounded by ocean water for as far as the eye can see.
Nate Thomas, my closest friend, is one of the main reasons I transferred to Linrey University, conveniently centered in my favorite city, Boston.
My family home is only about thirty minutes from campus, so when I first went off to college after high school, I thought I needed some distance and ended up in New Hampshire.
But by the beginning of my junior year, I realized that distance was the last thing I needed from my family and decided to come home.
It was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.
“Yeah. Yeah.” I cross one arm behind my head, closing my eyes as I lie back on the cushioned bench seat. My larger-than-life legs dangle off the boat.
I hear the familiar crack of a beer can and peek my eyes open to find Nate handing me one.
Sitting up, I take it. “Thanks.”
The cold liquid flowing down my throat is refreshing and just what I need after spending all morning in the gym with my team.
The news of me becoming a co-captain with Greyson went as well as expected.
The scouts were all overly eager to talk to me. My teammates gave me a congratulatory slap on the back. And Greyson spent the rest of the practice scowling at me from across the room.
I run a hand down my face.
This is going to be one fucking long season.
“Why so down?” Nate sits on the captain’s chair, crossing his ankles before him.
I shrug it off. “Just a long day.”
“What’s going on, man? You haven’t been yourself for the past month.” He crosses his arms over his chest, brows furrowing. “Do you regret transferring to Linrey?”
“No.” I adamantly shake my head. “It’s not that.”
He arches a brow, waiting for me to continue, but I don’t know if I can.
Because what I’m about to admit is going to make me sound like a prepubescent teenage boy.
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I close my eyes.
Let’s get this over with.
“There’s a girl…”
“Aha! I knew it.” He chuckles, turning his baseball hat backward. “Who is it?”
“Well, that’s the thing.” I let out a resigned sigh. “I don’t actually know.”
His face scrunches in confusion. “You’ve lost me.”
I rest my elbows on my knees, staring at the vinyl flooring. “About a month ago, some guys from my team and I went to On The Rocks, the bar near campus under a hotel. I honestly didn’t even want to be there, but…” I shake my head. “The second I walked in, my eyes locked onto this girl.” The memory of her pops into my mind, fresh and vibrant. Her long, silky black strands of hair smelled of apple and honey. Her iridescent green eyes sparkled under the bar lights. That damn beautiful smile and those delicate floral tattoos on her pale thighs and arms I traced with my tongue. “My legs walked over to her on their own accord. It was like she was some damn magnet, and I couldn’t pull away from her even if I wanted to. There was something about her. It was as though I knew her, but I didn’t.” I look off at the sea. “I knew she was there, looking for someone to leave with. So I made sure that someone was me. We left the bar to get a room, and we…” I wave my hand around dismissively. “Well, you get the picture.”
Nate laughs, shaking his head.
“It was the best night of my life,” I say matter-of-factly. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her. And it’s driving me fucking crazy.”
“Then why don’t you just call her?” he asks, tilting his head.
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t even fucking know who she is,” I say, sounding as exasperated as I feel.
Nate’s brows raise, clearly needing me to explain.
“We never exchanged numbers. And we never exchanged names. She didn’t want to make things complicated. She just wanted one night, and that’s what I gave her. One night.”
There’s pity on Nate’s face. “But Paul, you’re not a one-night stand kind of guy.”
I let out a humorless laugh. “Yeah. I know that.” I finish the rest of my drink and toss it beside me. “She had no idea who I was. No care about my last name or how much money sits on my future NBA contract. And yet, she wanted me. Do you know how refreshing that was?”
Nate nods, taking in my words.
He’s the only one I’ve talked to about this.
The weight that crushes my shoulders, knowing what people expect from me because of the last name on my jersey.
Because once a girl finds out who I am, or more accurately, my last name, that’s all they care about.
Not me, but a front-row seat in the spotlight that shines too bright for my liking.
They know I’m the NBA’s most sought-after player, expected to be the number-one draft pick next year, and all they see in their pretty eyes are those flashing neon dollar bill signs.
“There must be a way to find her,” Nate insists, removing his hat to run his fingers through his dark brown hair.
“I’ve tried. I’ve tried absolutely everything.” My fingers grip the side of the boat as I lean back, gazing up at the clear sky. “I’ve gone back to the bar several times. I’ve searched aimlessly through campus. I’ve even gone through the campus website, searching for her damn eyes when I don’t even know if she’s a student here.” My eyes pinch shut. “I’ve looked for her every night since then, but I think it’s time for me to accept defeat at this point.”
“Every night?” Nate questions.
“Every. Damn. Night.”
“Last call!” the bartender shouts as he flicks the lights on.
I swirl the remaining amber liquid in my glass before finishing it off, relishing the burn that travels down my throat. Every taste reminds me of that night—of her.
“You’re sure you haven’t seen anyone that resembles the description I just gave you? Long, black hair. Perfect green eyes. Floral tattoos covering her arms.” I tilt my head toward the bartender, waiting for his response.
He sighs, shaking his head. “Like I’ve told you almost every night for the past month, I’ve seen thousands of girls coming in and out of this place. At this point, they all look the same to me.” The bartender wipes down the counter before throwing the rag over his shoulder. “You’re a good-looking guy. I’m sure the ladies must love your height, so trust me when I say there’s someone else out there for you. Stop wasting your time on finding some girl.” He lifts a container of dishes from the sink and disappears into the back room.
Sighing heavily, I pull a couple of bills out of my wallet and place them on the counter before turning to leave. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve escaped here, searching for her. The girl with no name.
And every night, I leave here with a dull, hopeless ache in the center of my chest.
Maybe the bartender was right. Maybe I should just give up.
But I’ve never been a quitter. And I won’t start that shit now.
“I’ll be back tomorrow,” I yell over my shoulder, knowing he can’t hear me but not giving a damn.
I’m not giving up on finding her.
Because how can you give up on finding the one person in a world of over seven billion people who somehow makes you feel not so alone anymore?
You can’t.
“I’m sorry, man.” Nate nudges my hand, bringing me out of my memory with another cold can of beer that I gladly take. “Maybe she’ll turn up when you least expect it.”
“Yeah. Maybe.” I know she won’t. I don’t have that kind of luck. “I just… For a fleeting moment, I thought I might have what you and Natalie have.”
Nate and Natalie.
The couple of all couples.
Nate shakes his head. “You will, Paul,” he says adamantly. “I know you will.”
I tug on the silver chain dangling against my chest, twisting it around my finger. “Maybe it’s the beer talking, but I guess I’ve just been feeling lonely. You’ve got Natalie. Jason’s got Vanessa.”
Nate’s brows shoot up to his hairline.
“Don’t kid yourself. Jason and Vanessa will be together before the end of the semester, mark my words.”
It’s no secret that Jason, Natalie’s younger brother, is in love with her best friend, Vanessa.
But the only one who doesn’t know that yet is Jason.
Nate chuckles, clutching the brim of his hat. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
“And then there’s me.” I lie back on the bench, staring at two seagulls flying over us, closely together. Even the damn birds have found love. “And for one night, being with that girl didn’t make me feel so alone anymore. I felt…whole.”
For one night, I felt like I had found my person.
And I know that sounds ridiculous, especially when I had never believed in love at first sight.
Never even believed in finding my happily ever after.
Until that night, that is.
When those green eyes embedded themselves not just in my mind but in my heart too.
And now…
Now, I don’t know what to believe.