Page 92 of Half-Court Heat


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Everyone was in a good mood that morning. The sun was a little brutal, but the breeze off the water made it tolerable. Pennybrought out cut-up watermelon, and the only thing we argued about was who got to control the playlist.

We talked about everything and nothing—the weather, team standings, who had the worst coaching staff of the league’s six teams. Arika and Dez started a competition over who could throw a football the farthest, which resulted in Mya nearly taking out a seagull. Even I felt myself loosening up.

I was half-listening to a debate between Dez and Briana about which city had the best postgame hangout spots when Rayah scooted over, a bottle of sunscreen in one hand.

“Hey, bestie,” she said, tossing her long blonde hair over one shoulder. “Mind helping your girl out?”

The bottle landed in my lap with a plastic thunk.

It would have been a routine request if it had been anyone else but her. If she hadn’t made it known that she was interested in off-the-court activities. And if Jazz, seated right beside me, wasn’t also aware of Rayah’s offer.

I felt Jazz’s stare from behind the lenses of her mirrored sunglasses. Twin laser beams.

I opened the bottle and squeezed a dollop of sunscreen into my palm. I rubbed my hands together, dividing the lotion. My hands hovered above Rayah’s shoulders, unsure. This was stupid. This was fine. Totally above board.

I spread the sunscreen across her back in smooth, practiced motions—shoulder to spine, down toward the small of her back, nowhere inappropriate. My hands were clinical. Efficient.

And yet.

Everything about her was warm and sculpted, lean muscles shifting under my touch. She was quiet in a way that felt deliberate, like she was letting the silence get in my head.

“How’s Eva doing?” she asked finally, like she’d just remembered to be polite.

“She’s good,” I grunted.

“Is she coming down anytime soon?”

“Maybe. Depends on what the doctors and her physical therapists say, I guess.”

We hadn’t spoken about her coming down for a visit. I hadn’t wanted to push or tempt her to do anything that might set her recovery back.

“That’s cool.” She swept her long blonde hair further to one side, exposing more skin. “Y’all are cute.”

I rubbed in the last of the sunscreen and pulled my hands back. “All set.”

She twisted her torso to hit me with a dimpled smile. “Thanks. I knew you’d have good hands.”

My mouth twitched, but I didn’t smile back.

Rayah pushed up to her feet and stretched her arms above her head. My traitorous eyes swept up the expanse of her lean, muscled figure and lingered on the twin protrusions that hinted at pierced nipples.

Without another glance in my direction, she walked towards the water’s edge.

Once she was out of earshot, Jazz turned on me.

“She’s trying it with you.”

“I know,” I muttered. I scrubbed my hands on the sand like it might undo something.

“And you’re letting her.”

“It’s innocent,” I said. “We’re friends.”

“No,we’refriends,” Jazz cut in flatly. “And even then I wouldn’t be asking you to lotion up my undercarriage.”

“All you’d have to do is ask, Jazz.” I batted my eyelashes, trying to play it off.

“You be careful, Lex.” Her voice was light, but the warning underneath wasn’t. “Sun’s not the only thing trying to burn you out here.”