Chapter 19 #3
“Your insecurity regarding my dimples is becoming concerning.”
“Your dimples have nothing to do with this.”
“They've historically had a lot to do with things.”
Hannah taps my arm.
“Hey.”
I look down.
Her expression is soft.
“I really don't mind.”
“I do.”
“Possessive.”
“Yes.”
The room makes a collective sound.
I turn.
“Everybody shut up.”
No one does.
Hannah grabs my hand.
That works better.
The room eventually settles.
She looks around at all of them.
“Actually, I want something.”
Immediately, five basketball players lean closer.
I stare.
Unbelievable.
“What?” Vale asks.
Hannah crosses one leg over the other.
“I want to see you guys in the Final Four.”
That quiets everyone.
Not a joke.
Not some casual compliment.
She looks at the television where game film remains frozen.
“You have the team for it.”
Vale folds his arms.
“You think?”
“I know.”
My chest tightens.
Hannah gestures toward the screen.
“But teams are going to study you differently by February. What works now won’t necessarily work in March.”
Noah sits forward.
“So?”
“So I’ll help.”
Everybody freezes.
Even me.
Hannah pushes her glasses higher.
“I can watch games. Take notes. Tell you what I see.”
Eli’s mouth opens.
“For all of us?”
“If I notice something.”
Vale looks at me.
I already know the expression.
Don’t.
He looks back at Hannah.
“You'll be our secret weapon.”
Hannah smiles.
“Exactly.”
Noah points around the room.
“This stays here.”
Hannah nods.
“Coach doesn't need to know.”
I raise an eyebrow.
“You're running an underground film department from my apartment now?”
“Apparently.”
Vale sticks out his hand.
“Deal.”
She shakes it.
Then Noah.
Then Eli.
Jalen joins.
I stare at the ridiculous little alliance forming in front of me.
“No one is putting her on payroll.”
Eli looks at me.
“Your girl is going to become legendary.”
“She already thinks she is.”
Hannah looks over her glasses at me.
“Careful.”
“I like Hannah for Hannah.”
That shuts everyone up for one miraculous second.
She turns toward me.
I continue.
“Basketball genius is impressive.”
Her mouth twitches.
“But that isn’t why I wanted the date.”
The room gets quieter.
“I liked her before I knew she coached.”
“Barely,” Hannah says.
“I chased you through a building.”
“You were nosy.”
“I searched half of Stanford for you.”
“Concerning behavior.”
“I took you to a bookstore.”
Vale holds up a finger.
“That still shocks me.”
I ignore him.
I look at Hannah.
“I like the girl who brings three books for one overnight.”
“You had practice.”
“The girl who carries emergency Twizzlers.”
“Medical necessity.”
“The girl who cries over strangers singing about their mothers and then lies about it.”
Her eyes narrow.
“You promised not to expose that.”
“I promised nothing.”
“The girl who thinks archaeology is interesting.”
“It is.”
“And the girl who made waffles for six idiots she met twelve hours ago.”
Eli lifts a hand.
“I take issue with—”
“No.”
He lowers it.
Hannah’s smile softens.
My chest does something uncomfortable.
Good uncomfortable.
Dangerous.
Real.
“I like her,” I finish. “Basketball is just one more thing she’s annoyingly good at.”
Hannah looks at me for a second too long.
Then Eli ruins everything.
“Hannah.”
She glances toward him.
“Yeah?”
“I want to date you.”
“No.”
Instant.
The room explodes.
I point at him.
“See?”
Eli clutches his chest.
“She didn’t even consider it.”
“She has excellent judgment.”
“I offered myself sincerely.”
“You offered yourself because she fixed your switch defense.”
“Love begins in mysterious ways.”
Hannah laughs.
“Still no.”
I move closer and rest both hands on her shoulders.
“Okay. Clinic closed.”
Noah groans.
“Haverhill.”
“No.”
“One more thing.”
“No.”
“Tiny thing.”
“No.”
“Free throws.”
“You shoot seventy-eight percent.”
“I could shoot eighty-two.”
“Ask Coach.”
“He yells.”
“So do I.”
Noah considers that.
“True.”
Hannah looks around at them.
“Seriously, though.”
They settle.
“If you need something, text me.”
I look at her.
She corrects herself.
“Actually, maybe I’ll text you guys after games if I see something.”
Vale looks far too pleased.
“Group chat.”
“No.”
“Team Bookworm.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Final Four Intelligence Unit.”
Hannah laughs.
“Still no.”
Eli lifts his phone.
“Creating it now.”
I snatch it from his hand.
“You people have had enough access to my girlfriend for one morning.”
Hannah leans against me.
“There's a price.”
Everyone pauses.
Noah narrows his eyes.
“What price?”
“My thirteen-U team.”
Five expressions change simultaneously.
“You coach?” Jalen asks.
I stare at him.
“How did you miss that part?”
“I thought people were joking.”
Hannah looks offended.
“I have seven highly temperamental thirteen-year-old boys who need help.”
Noah gestures at the room.
“Sounds familiar.”
“They need defenders taller than them. Rebounders. Someone to demonstrate things without me climbing onto a chair.”
Vale grins.
“You want Stanford basketball practicing with middle-schoolers?”
“I want Stanford basketball giving back.”
That lands.
I see it happen.
All the jokes fall away for a second.
Hannah doesn’t know what I told her last night is still sitting right beneath my skin.
A school.
Scholarships.
Kids who need someone.
Now she’s sitting in my living room offering these guys something that sounds suspiciously like the beginning of it.
Vale nods first.
“I’m in.”
Noah follows.
“Same.”
Eli holds out his hand.
“Put me down for guards.”
Jalen shrugs.
“Whenever we’re home.”
Hannah’s face lights.
Not the sarcastic smile.
The real one.
“Seriously?”
“Yeah,” Vale says. “If you’re fixing our games, we can help your kids.”
“Deal.”
They start talking over one another again.
Who can come Tuesday.
Who has treatment Thursday.
Whether the kids would lose their minds if the team walked into practice.
Hannah starts explaining Evan.
Tyler.
Their offense.
The tournament coming up.
She’s halfway into another coaching session when I finally lean down beside her ear.
“Hannah.”
She turns.
“What?”
“Can I have my girlfriend back?”
Color immediately rises into her cheeks.
Every idiot in the room notices.
Noah points.
“She blushed.”
“Stop.”
I take her hand.
“I had plans.”
Her eyebrows lift.
“You did?”
“Matinee.”
“What movie?”
“I’m not telling you.”
“Why?”
“You'll research reviews.”
“I like being informed.”
“You'll read the plot.”
“Maybe.”
“Then dinner.”
She smiles.
“And?”
I hesitate just long enough for everyone to start listening.
I lower my voice anyway.
“And maybe you sleep over again tonight.”
Hannah studies me.
Around us, the room waits.
Naturally.
She glances toward my teammates.
Then toward the film paused on the television.
Back at me.
“Another night?”
“If you want.”
“Continuing the date-a-thon?”
“That was the agreement.”
Her fingers curl into mine.
For half a second, she gives me that look.
The one that makes the whole room disappear.
Then she stands.
“Deal.”
Relief hits me harder than it should.
I pull her gently toward the door.
Vale calls after us.
“What about the film?”
“No.”
“Haverhill.”
“No.”
“Hannah?”
She twists around while I keep hold of her hand.
“I’ll text you later.”
I stare at her.
She smiles sweetly.
“Secret weapon.”
Vale grins.
“Legend.”
“Stop encouraging them.”
Noah calls out, “What time are you coming back?”
“None of your business.”
Hannah answers at the same time.
“Before waffles tomorrow.”
Everyone cheers.
I look at her.
“You're making waffles again?”
“Maybe.”
The guys cheer louder.
She laughs and lets me lead her into my room.
The door closes behind us.
Silence.
Finally.
Hannah leans into my side.
“You jealous?”
“Yes.”
“Of your teammates?”
“Currently all of them.”
She smiles.
“They like me.”
“Too much.”
“You're cute when you're possessive.”
“I’m never cute.”
“Your face is on posters.”
“That has nothing to do with cute.”
“Hey, Haverhill?”
“What?”
“You know I wasn't kidding.”
“About what?”
Her expression softens.
“Final Four.”
Something tightens in my chest.
“You really think we can make it?”
“I think you're going.”
“With your help?”
“With or without it.”
Then her mouth curves.
“But I'll make sure you don't screw it up.”
I laugh.
There she is.
I pull her against me and kiss her forehead.
“My secret weapon.”
“Your girlfriend.”
I go still.
She catches it.
Smiles.
Then steps out when the elevator opens, dragging me after her.
“Come on, boo. You're ruining the date-a-thon.”
I follow.
Happily.