Amber: Snort. You’re such a loser.
Me: Whatever. Give my niece a kiss.
After that, I turned my phone to silent and got into bed after washing up and brushing my teeth. As I expected, my brain worked overtime. Falling asleep thinking of a shirtless Nate and the new possibility that provided made my dreams ridiculously sweet and a lot dirty.
***
Me: So how was it?
I’d woken up Saturday morning more than aware that it was Saturday evening in Australia and Nate was out. And not just out, but out at agaybar. Nate should have been the last thing on my mind as I’d pulled on my running shoes and completed a five-mile run. He definitely shouldn’t have been on my mind as I drove to meet up with the team for briefing and basic warmups before our game this afternoon, but by midday, I’d sent the text anyway.
I figured it was early hours in the morning over there and hoped a little too hard that he was tucked up wherever he was staying—which I didn’t want to think too hard and long about—all by himself.
There was a strong possibility Nate wouldn’t be by himself. The guy was hot, and it was safe to say the few years that had passed looked good on the man. It gave me a new level of understanding of the saying about aging like a fine red, or however it was, because, yeah, an eighteen-year-old Nate had been sweetly sexy, but the twenty-six-year-old version was mighty fucking fine.
“Broadwater, get your head out of your ass and pick it up,” Coach hollered at me. We were in the middle of drills, and what I should have been doing were sprints and free throws.
I hadn’t been.
Instead, my mind was occupied with my unanswered message. That was a whole shitload of dangerous.
I was the king of focused, of switched on. Nothing messed with my games, ever. Shout shit at me? I could barely hear the words. A crappy personal foul, and I was motivated as hell. Nate possibly having a hot and heavy night, staying who knew where,doingwho knew what, and I was in danger of making Coach’s head explode and getting some bench time.
Forcing myself to get my head in the game, I pulled it out of my ass and worked through the drills. After that, Coach left me alone, and I continued my same routine, preparing to go back with the team in a short while before they opened the doors for the spectators.
With drills over, I headed to the locker room, Jayden at my heels.
“You doing okay there, Broadwater? What was Coach chewing your ass about?”
I shrugged. “Nothing, all good.”
“You’re the golden boy. That’s the first time ever Coach has given you shit, so that’s not nothing.”
A barely there sigh escaped, embarrassment more than anything pushing the air past my lips. “I wasn’t focused.”
I cast a quick glance at Jayden, seeing his brows springing high in surprise. I would have laughed if I didn’t feel so ridiculous.
“You focused now?” While worry wasn’t in Jayden’s voice, something close to concern was. I got it. My screwups were rare, and that wasn’t arrogance talking. It was hard work and dedication. We were drawing in closer to the end of the season. These games mattered. The pointsmattered. While we weren’t running for the championship, our performances would impact contracts next season. There were a few guys about to become free agents. I wasn’t one of them, with a year left, but me messing shit up for them, potentially screwing up a pass, their chance to play their best, would not be okay. It never would be.
It was that I reminded myself of every single game, every single practice. So yeah, I understood Jayden’s furrowed brow, the slight apprehension when he looked me over.
“I’m focused. You know we’ve got this shit. Dead set legend, remember?”
He snorted at that—one of the phrases I’d introduced to my American friends—Sutton joining us and releasing a low chuckle too, no doubt hearing the tail end of our conversation.
“There he is… the boy wonder from down under.”
I shoved Jayden gently to the side—always fucking gentle, as I’d heard too many times about injuries been caused by the stupidest shit. “You’re a dick.”
“Yet again, you’re confusing that with me having abigdick.”
Jayden was incorrigible. “And I’m interested in knowing your dick size because?” Every single time I played this sparring game, I cringed on the inside. Such expected humor flew close to the radar.
“Any living soul would be goddamn lucky to get up close and personal with my giant dick. It’s a curse, really, a cross I have to bear.” Jayden tugged off his shirt once in front of his locker, a couple away from mine, Sutton between us.
Sutton piped up, his voice deadpan, “You put a whole new meaning to dribbling with all that leakage going on. I don’t know if it’s coming from your ass, your mouth, or yourgiantdick.”
I laughed loudly. “Leakage? Gross, are you dribbling from an orifice, Jayden? Man, there’s medication for that. Geez.”
