Chapter 12
BYRON
Brandon pulls upbeside me in his BMW. I jump out of my car, lock it, and walk with him into the gym. We take the tunnel to the locker room, ignoring our teammates’ banter.
“How was the land Down Under, BJ?” Simpson asks, his tone lined with sarcasm.
“Oh, you missed us at the game,” I throw over my shoulder. “I didn’t see any triple-doubles on your stats.”
He grumbles something as we walk past him to reach our stall. I toss my bag onto the leather chair embossed with the LA Sharks logo near the headrest. It rolls from the force and hits the cabinetry behind the chair. Byron Hendricks #19 is printed on the overhead cabinetry. I hit the number in superstition like I have every day since the first time I entered this room. Retrieving my Air Jordans, I take a seat and prepare for training. I glance up at Brandon sitting opposite me in the room. He pulls his jersey over his head and taps the number seven on his chest, then touches his temple.
Each one of us has a ritual.
Brandon has barely mentioned the trip to Australia, and now I’m curious as to why. He’s mentioned how his mom was overwhelmed with happiness when he surprised her, the weather, and the party, but not much else. Nothing about Charlotte annoying the fuck out of him. He’s been quiet since he returned.
I took it as sadness at leaving his family and friends. We all make sacrifices to play the game we love. Now, I’m wondering if Charlotte made the trip almost unbearable, and he’s staying quiet so as not to offend me. I know what she’s capable of—she is my sister. And I have not been hanging with him as much as we used to due to being distracted by Giana.
Springing from my chair, I jump up and down on the spot, testing the fit of my Air Jordans.
“You playing in the training match?” Simpson snickers. “I thought Coach was playing Trax.” What is he talking about?
Leroy leans close. “Ignore him. He’s pissed because Holden Hayes hit on his sister.”
Holden Hayes is my main opponent and plays for the LA Stars.
“Hey, Simpson. Remember the last time I owned Hayes? You should take a page out of my playbook.”
“Fuck you, Hendricks.” His eyes dart to Brandon, who is focused on tying his laces. The bastard better not start with Brandon. “You wouldn’t be so smug if you knew?—”
“Hey, hey.” Jye pulls at Simpson’s jersey. “Let it go, man.”
“Who’s ready to crush it?” I yell, bouncing up and down. We jog out of the locker room, along the tunnel, and toward the court.
Leroy is beside me. “While Simpson pisses me off…” I tell LeRoy, “… I understand his anger. If anyone in the team touched my sister, I’d destroy them.” Not them, but their career. “I’d make sure they never got to play another game with the LA Sharks.”
Leroy slaps my back. “Calm down, tiger. We all know the bro code. Even Simpson wouldn’t lay a finger on Lottie.”
For a few seconds, a possessive emotion rips over me. I would tear them apart. Family is off-limits.
“Gather in,” Coach calls out as we file onto the court. “Before training begins, I want to discuss rosters over the next couple of preseason matches. This weekend, Byron and Brandon will start. The following weekend, I’m giving the four rookies a chance in the player rotation. Brandon, Byron, Leroy, and Jye will sit that one out.”
I nudge Leroy. “Should I read anything into this?”
Leroy shrugs. “I’m not complaining. It’s a rest before shit gets serious.”
“You’re expected to be here every day for training, twice a day for some of you. Every player will have one weekend off, so use the time wisely and spend it with family. They’re not going to see much of you over the next six months.”
After training on Friday,I head to my parents’ place for dinner.
Franklin, Penny, and Summer will be there, so I drove past Giana’s home since she texted earlier to say Summer’s painting is ready. Giana was heading out with Paige, but we spoke briefly about catching up on Sunday after I train.
Tomorrow is a training game, and Coach hasn’t revealed our opposing team’s lineup. It messes with my head not planning my game around a player, but for what it’s worth, I remind myself it’s still preseason.
It’s not reason enough to lower my competitive guard.
I park my car on the massive horseshoe entrance. While my parents have a basement garage large enough to house most of our cars, I don’t see the need since I’m not staying long.
With the framed canvas tucked under my arm and covered in pink paper, I nod to their security, then greet their house butler who is standing stiffly by the open front door. “Evening, Finn. I trust you’re well?”
“Evening, Mr. Hendricks. Extremely well, thank you. Your mother awaits you in the upstairs formal family room.”
“Thank you.”
Laughter echoes out into the lobby. I take the stairs two at a time and enter the room, which is more like a miniature ballroom, where everyone awaits my arrival.
“Byron. How was training?” my father asks in a deep voice.
“Fine. Coach is rotating a few of us. I don’t need the rest but understand it helps develop the rookies.” I shake his hand, then kiss my mother’s cheek while she rocks Summer in her arms. I stop and stare at her.
“Does Summer do anything other than sleep?” It sounds dumb, but I have only visited twice.
Penny giggles. “She doesn’t sleep much, actually. I have bags under my eyes from being awake half the night.” She hugs me.
“This is for you. Summer, not you.” I wink at her.
Franklin comes over and stands behind Penny. “Do I need to remind you we have a nanny who will attend to Summer’s every need?” Franklin says with displeasure. He shakes my hand. “It’s good to see you, Byron.”
“I know, but I treasure every moment I get with her,” Penny coos. She pulls the paper from the canvas, and it reveals the back of the frame. “Oh, what did you choose?” she asks excitedly.
Franklin hitches his trousers gently before kneeling beside Penny to help tear the paper away and reveal the painting. I’m hit with a wave of embarrassment at not knowing what Giana created. She hid it from me, saying to trust her.
“Oh, Byron, I love it.” Penny stands, and Franklin helps her hold up the framed canvas. “It’s beautiful.”
Franklin gives me a look of approval. “Very thoughtful, brother.”
“It’s from Giana and me.” For a moment, everyone stares at me. My words came out as though we are a couple.
Franklin turns the canvas for us to see, and wow. I can’t hide my surprise. Giana, you are one hell of an artist.
“It’s beautiful,” I murmur.
“You didn’t see it before?” Penny asks.
“No.” I can’t take my eyes off the fairy garden, the array of colors, and the tiny golden horse on its hind legs in the middle of the flowers. “Giana painted it for you. She told me to trust her,” I say, pride choking my throat.
“Please thank her. It’s perfect.” Penny flashes a smile.
Charlotte stands to take a closer look. “Gigi is talented,” she says gently, directing the compliment at me. While I appreciate her praise for Giana, I’m hit with confusion. She didn’t once query me about training when I entered the room. Something is off.
“Byron, sit and hold your niece,” Mom says.
I take a seat beside my sister, smiling sweetly at Summer. “Hold out your arms,” Charlotte says gently. I look at her for a moment, expecting a taunt about being clueless with babies, but it doesn’t come.
With my niece in my arms, content in her sleep, I can’t help but feel a sense of contentment of my own. But I know peace never lasts.
Late Saturday afternoon,I drive to Brandon’s house before the game. It feels like any other game, except it’s an internal game—purely for our team’s benefit since preseason doesn’t officially start until October. Yet it’s different because this time, Giana is watching me play. My body tingles with nerves, more excited than ever. Not a good thing when I’m trying to level out my thoughts and focus on the game.
“You ready to prove we’re the best guards on the team?” Brandon says after closing the car door. It might be a training game, but we’re both wearing trousers and a white button-up with the LA Sharks logo on the left side of his chest.
“You bet.” We do our shake—back of hands, palm to palm, smack, smack, then a light punch. “Did I mention Gigi is coming?”
He turns to me, wide-eyed. “Serious?”
“It’s been years since she saw me play.”
Brandon grins. “And live. She could have watched the game on TV.”
I shake my head. “She’s not like that. She doesn’t love the game. But she’ll watch to support me. It’s what she did in high school.”
I veer into traffic.
He thrums his fingers along the armrest. “You’ve never talked about her.”
“She was the one who got away, so I did what I could to forget.” I give him a quick glance. “Fate.” I shrug. “She’s here, and I know I want to try with her again. So, while she is home, I’m proving I’m not the guy I was back then.”
I see Brandon staring at me in my periphery. “Who were you back then?”
I tap my finger along the steering wheel to the beat of the tunes pumping out of my speakers. I should be listening and motivated. “I did what I had to do and made basketball my priority. Some considered it selfish. I thought of it as focused. Remember when things didn’t go my way in my freshman year? I was… reckless.”
He wipes the palm of his hand across his mouth. “Yep. You took some convincing to calm the fuck down.”
I shake my head to dispel the images in my mind. Not just the night with Giana, but on other days when I was so drunk at parties I passed out.
“Your toxic trait was when shit went down concerning basketball, and you acted like it was the end of the freaking world. At least now you sulk for a day or so and then your mind is back and focused to prove them wrong.”
I chuckle. “So what you’re saying is I’ve grown up. I wasn’t selfish, just immature.”
He laughs. “Wait. Where are we?”
“Picking up Gigi.”
His eyes go round. “She’s coming with you to the game?”
“Yep. And you need to move your ass to the back seat.”
Brandon peers into the back of my Porsche. “My legs won’t fit in there.”
I grin. “Then you best ask Gigi if she minds.”
Before I turn off the engine, Giana is closing the front gate. She is wearing a pink floral maxi dress with a small bag in the same material. She looks fashionable, classy, and sexy. Her long, dark hair is pulled back into a ponytail and has a curl to it. My mind is on where she’ll sit tonight, as I don’t want her next to just anybody.
“Hi.” She waves. I’m out of the car and around her side instantly, ready to open the door. Brandon steps out of the car. “Oh, you must be Brandon.”
He takes her hand and kisses it. “I am. And you must be Gigi. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
I step between them. “You can drop her hand now.”
Giana’s hand goes to her chest. She looks up at me. “You’ve never kissed my hand.” I step close, take her face in my palms, and kiss her lips slowly before flicking my tongue out to taste her. I pull back and stare into her beautiful eyes. “That’s because I’m busy kissing your lips. And BJ here is sucking up to you, hoping you’ll allow him to sit in the front.”
She giggles and places a hand on his arm. “Of course.”
Brandon hugs her, and the urge to push him away surprises me. Now I’m making mental notes about kissing Giana’s hand and hugging her when I appreciate the little things instead of thinking about my opponent for the game.
I’m in the middle of traffic when Giana asks her first question. “What time will the game finish?”
“Around eight thirty,” Brandon answers.
“Are we going for dinner after the game, or do we eat there?”
I laugh. “It’s not high school, Gi. Food is available, but you have access to the VIP area and the restaurant during the game.” I meet her gaze in the rearview mirror.
She offers a warm smile. “Any chance we can go for pizza after instead?”
“I like her,” Brandon says.
“Unlike many in LA,” Giana continues, “I eat gluten. People act like I’m robbing the place if I walk in holding a bagel.”
Brandon chuckles. “I’m up for pizza after the game.”
“If we invite you.”
“Of course, you can join us. Can I call you BJ…” Giana asks, “… or do you prefer Brandon? And how did you get the name BJ?”
“It’s not what you think,” he adds quickly.
“Bullshit,” I cough, and Giana laughs.
“For fuck’s sake, Hendricks.” He shakes his head. “My birth name is Brandon Johns, and being from Down Under, that nickname was always going to stick.”
“Right,” she says. I keep an eye on her as she gazes out of her window. “I’ve always wanted to visit Australia.”
“Well, if you do and I’m home, I’d be happy to show you around.”
Not without me.
We arrive at the LA Sharks’ special parking lot for players. I take Giana’s hand and lead her past security. I stop at reception and introduce her to Kirsten. Her eyes round in surprise, as I’ve never introduced anyone to her. Kirsten acknowledges what the introduction implies. She’ll be seeing more of Giana, so she needs to organize a pass to allow her entry whenever she needs to visit. Taking Giana’s hand, I lead her toward the office where Charlotte will be dealing with last-minute business.
“I’ll see you in the locker room,” Brandon calls out over his shoulder.
Giana squeezes my hand. “Where are we going?”
“To see Charlotte so she can escort you to our family seats.”
“Oh. I thought you were taking me to the storeroom. I’ve heard about what happens in those rooms.”
I stop walking and stare at my beautiful, sexy girl. Is she my girl? All I can think about is whipping up her skirt and recreating her fantasy.
“You’ll be the death of me tonight.”