AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“She thinks I need to be the center of attention.”
“Maybe you’re just charismatic and the attention comes to you whether you try to grab it or not?” I hold up the mirror, and she inspects my work. The number seven.
“That’s not Jay’s number.”
“No. You told me it was yours when you played as a kid.”
Her lips curve. “You’re the best, you know that? Now, I’ll do you.”
I sit, enjoying the sunshine as she works. We dressed in #BEARFORCE tees, mine purple with white writing and knotted around my waist. Underneath, I’m wearing cropped black tights for comfort, plus white sneakers. My hair is up in a ponytail.
“How’re things going with Clay since you hooked up at the club?” Brooke asks.
My mouth falls open. “I didn’t say we hooked up!”
“It was obvious from every inch of you when you came back from that bathroom. I don’t need the details.”
“Good.”
She frowns. “I was being cool. Of course I want the details.”
I glance around in case there are children within earshot. “He, ah, made a compelling case. With his…”
“His words,” Brooke supplies.
“Exactly.” I flush.
Since the night we hooked up, we’ve been texting. It started with him sending me ideas for tattoos.
Still owe you one, he reminded me.
“But?”
But I’m trying to keep my heart safe. I hope this season, being back with this team, will help him and not hurt him more.
“I need to know that we can get through the hard times. Summer was rough for both of us, and I’m not willing to go through that again. I can’t.”
“I get it. Following your boyfriend to LA only to have him win the championship and get injured and spiral out is the worst. But you’re the one who left.”
My head snaps up.
“You came to be with Mari and Emily, yes? You said you needed space. I’m not saying you shouldn’t have,” she goes on immediately. “A woman can leave for any reason she goddamned wants. But you acted. So, if there’s something you can’t handle, you need to know what that is.”
I’m still turning that over when she finishes her artwork. She passes me the mirror.
“This better not be a purple dick…”
My mouth falls open as Clay’s name and jersey number stare back at me. “Well, that’s not obvious at all.”
“Never hurts to plant your flag.” Brooke grins.
Brooke and I turn our attention to the kids lining up for face painting, purple and black and gold balloons clutched in their hands.
For a while, we’re working side by side.
Miles stops by with lemonades during a short lull in the action. “Here you go, ladies. Nice face, Nova.”
“Thanks.”
