“No fucking way,”I said, far too loudly for my words to be subtle. “Milo Henderson is here.”
There was nothing quite like stumbling upon your unicorn basketball player. Add in that Milo Henderson was a fucking legend,andhe was a guest coach, and I was close to hyperventilating.
“Oh fuck.”
“Huh?” I angled toward Sutton, who was shaking his head and pressing his lips together.
“No pissing yourself, humping his leg, offering to be his ball boy—”
“You know, they all sound seriously sexual. How did I not think of the hundreds of innuendoes I could have been having so much fun with?” Genuine disappointment colored my words.
“—no telling dad jokes”—I attempted to intervene at that. Isodid not tell dad jokes. My jokes were freakin’ spectacular. Sutton’s raised brows stopped me as he didn’t pause in his list of rules—“no asking him to demonstrate a spin jump sky hook—”
“Hey, now that surely will be something he’ll be showing these college kids…” I trailed off, thinking.
“No way. You are not asking the guy for private lessons.”
I pouted. He was no fun and took all of my awesome ideas away.
“Oh shit, and no asking him to sign your boxers,” he tagged on quickly.
Pearce stood at our side, cracking up at our exchange. I rolled my eyes at him and refocused on Sutton. “Fine. For that, I’m totally introducing you to him as my fiancé. He probably won’t even know who you are. Ooh, maybe we should practice, and we can start calling you Gale Moore.”
Pearce snorted, and Sutton gaped.
“What?” I asked, oh so innocently. “Keep opening your mouth like that and I’ll assume you want me to pop something inside.”
“Oh hell, I’m out of here,” Pearce said with a groan, quickly moving away from us and into the communal lounge.
While I wasn’t sure how Sutton would respond, I didn’t expect him to get all up in my business. “You want to introduce me as your fiancé and give me your name? You can go right ahead. It’s not a hardship. In fact, it would make me so fucking proud.” I gulped hard, heat sweeping through me at the intensity of his words and the emotion in his eyes. “And your cock in my mouth? I’m going to blow your fucking brains out later. Then we’ll see if you contain yourself and not tell anyone who will listen just how fucking good I am with ball play.”
He punctuated his words by a swift press of his lips against mine, just enough to leave his mark and my lips buzzing. Then the asshole smirked and walked away, leaving me breathless and with a giant boner.
I groaned, took a surreptitious look around, and adjusted myself.
That was one way to stop me from carrying on in front of Henderson. “Touché, asshole,” I mumbled, my grin quickly following.
Once I moved into the room, I was introduced to Milo Henderson, the former All-Star player and MVP for four years in a row. Somehow I managed not to hump his leg or stare for too long.
At college, one wall may have been dedicated to posters of this man. There was no guarantee my cool could remain.
The additional two guest coaches were also former League players. Paul Carton had retired three years back with an impressive score average after twelve years playing pro. There was no shame in admitting his stats rivaled my own.
The final coach was Eddie Phelps. I grinned when I saw him, going in for a handshake and a bro-hug. “Eddie, hell, it’s good to see you.”
He smiled down at me as he pulled back. He was six-eight from memory and had always been a big, friendly guy. “Jay-bomb, I wasn’t sure whether to believe Sid or not. Maybe questioned his sanity too.”
“You and me both,” I answered. “Damn, man, it’s been what, five years?”
“Yeah, before you up and abandoned ship to head to Minnesota.” His gaze flicked to Sutton, a smirk pulling at his mouth. “I always wondered why that was. A request for Minnesota of all places. Guess now we all know.”
There was no denying it. Sutton had been the reason I’d requested Greg fight for a deal. We’d previously played on another team together before we’d parted ways. When I’d heard he was heading to Minnesota, I was all over that like white on rice.
It hadn’t been a secret, to Sutton at least, that I’d made the move—legit begged, pleaded, and made deals—to make it happen. Maybe that should have been the lightbulb moment right then, shining on the rainbow flag that Sutton meant a lot to me.
More than was perhaps considered the norm in a friendship.
I bounced my brows up and down. “Can you blame me? Just look at the man.” I flicked a glance at Sutton, whose cheeks had turned pink. His eyes were focused elsewhere, clearly trying to avoid being part of the conversation.
