I nodded slowly, my smile growing.
“How does Miami in January sound?”
New Professional Women’s Basketball League Set to Launch
A new professional women’s basketball league is set to tip off soon, featuring 3-on-3 competition and attracting top female talent from around the world. The league will be based in Miami and run from January through March, offering a fast-paced, high-intensity format designed to showcase elite basketball in a compact, fan-friendly schedule.
The league is the brainchild of Briana Davis, forward for the Boston Shamrocks, who has long advocated for greater visibility and opportunity in women’s professional basketball. “This league is about giving players the stage they deserve,” Davis said. “Fans get to experience elite basketball in an exciting new format, and players get recognition for their dedication and skill. I wanted to create a space where the game, and the athletes who play it, are front and center.”
The Miami-based league promises professional-grade facilities and strong media coverage to highlight its players. Organizers are also planning community-focused events and fan engagement initiatives to connect athletes directly with supporters. “We want to make this more than just a season—it’sabout building a culture around women’s basketball that’s fast, fun, and impossible to ignore,” Davis added.
Player signings have already begun, and early reports indicate that both veteran stars and rising international talent have already expressed interest in joining the inaugural season. With its 3-on-3 format, the league aims to combine the skill and strategy of traditional basketball with the speed and intensity of small-team play, creating thrilling games that appeal to longtime fans and newcomers alike.
As preparations move forward, Davis has said her goal is clear: “We’re giving women’s basketball a platform it hasn’t had before. The spotlight is on the players, the action is non-stop, and the fans are going to see some of the best basketball in the world—all in Miami.”
Chapter
Ten
The Miami heat wrapped around me the second the jet door opened. Even in January, the air was thick and damp, curling my hair in ways I knew I’d be fighting all season. The sky was postcard blue, too bright after a morning spent under airplane cabin lights.
We clattered down the metal stairs toward a black SUV idling on the tarmac. The driver loaded our bags in the back while Eva slid in beside me, her thigh pressing warm against mine.
Jazz climbed into the SUV behind us, dropping into her seat with a bounce. The three of us had been the private jet’s only passengers. She looked too alert for someone who’d been on a pre-dawn flight—lip gloss perfect, hair smoothed like we weren’t doomed to Florida’s humidity.
I’d been awake since before sunrise, but it wasn’t the caffeine I’d downed at the airport that had me wired. It was the way the whole thing felt new—different.
One city. Three months. A league built just for us.
Eight weeks of games. Playoffs for the top four teams. Housing provided. And the final paycheck—$250,000, plus equity in the new league. It was nearly more money than I’d earn over my four-year rookie contract in the main league.
Briana had hand-selected players from across the globe for this inaugural season. It would have looked bad if she’d left me off the list, but there’d been no guarantee. Neither Mathilde nor Lauren—our two centers in Boston—had gotten an invite. It wasn’t a snub, though; not many centers had been selected, period. This kind of fast-paced league demanded smaller, more nimble players.
The weeks leading up to January had gone by quickly. After the rockiness of Eva going nonstop with endorsements and branding opportunities, the off-season had been like a dream. We’d spent Thanksgiving at my folks’ place in Wisconsin. Paige had latched onto Eva the moment we’d arrived. They’d watched YouTube beauty videos on Eva’s phone while I helped my mom prepare dinner. Eva had nearly lost it when she saw the mayonnaise-based noodle salad on the table.
Christmas was in Boston with her family. We’d gotten a hotel room rather than stay in her childhood home, however. Her parents were still a little chilly towards me—towards us—so we hadn’t wanted to make it more awkward than it needed to be.
New Years was back in Chicago where we’d spent a quiet evening at her condo, watching the city’s fireworks and sipping champagne. For the first time in my life, I’d had someone to kiss when the clock had struck midnight.
The SUV hummed along Miami’s wide streets, windows down just enough for the heat and a faint salt breeze from Biscayne Bay to leak in. I watched palm trees whip past, neon signs flashing glimpses of shops and cafés. Eva’s hand rested lightly on my knee, grounding me through the blur of motion, and Jazz chatted nonstop about the league’s rules and our new potential teammates, her words bouncing off the leather interior.
Our league-provided apartment was on the fourth floor of a newish complex in downtown, not far from where we’d beplaying games. Beige stucco, shiny glass, and palm trees dotted the front of the building like movie props.
Inside, we discovered two bedrooms and one bath. Neutral walls. Light wood floors. The furnishings were the kind of furniture that came in pre-matched sets—functional, but nothing you’d pick out yourself.
Eva opened the door that led to the second bedroom. It was somewhat smaller than the primary, but not terrible. “Well,” she decided, “we won’t have any use for that.”
She promptly shut the door as if it had offended her.
“Why would Briana give us a two-bedroom apartment?” she questioned.
I shrugged. “So I don’t have to sleep on the couch if I’m in the dog house?”
Eva gave me a slow, knowing look, the corner of her mouth curling up. “You think you’re going to end up in the dog house?”
“Statistically speaking, yeah.”
“Well, I suppose the extra closet space will be nice,” she conceded.
