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.”
CHAPTER9
