Cameras go off in ever more frequent amounts as she gets close, and then we’re set up for the moment.
Knowing the next move is mine, I stand up, now only a foot away from her, and open up my arms.
She steps in them, a smile on her face, and I fold her into my body, kissing the side of her head, my lips brushing above her ear.
A greeting like countless players have done with their family and friends before a WNBA game.
But instead, it’sus. The press corps gives up playing it cool, and on top of all the cell phones in our direction, every available professional camera is focused on us too.
She leans into my body, her jersey matching my own.
God, I wish this were real.
Yeah, like I said, I’m in trouble.
It’s not like I’m in love with the woman, but clearly there’ssomethingthere.
I raise my right hand up so it cups the back of her head, and spread my fingers across the silky hair that’s being pulled up into her ponytail.
“Have a great game, Avery,” I whisper in her ear, tilting my head so no one can read my lips.
She laughs a little in my neck. “I’d better, after this show.”
She breaks away and with one more look over her shoulder, heads to her bench.
Everything went according to plan—exceptwith how perfect she felt in my arms.
She’s never going to want you, Rawley, don’t get your hopes up.
You’ve been here before with Stef.
As I watch her take her seat, I try to repeat those two statements enough times that I actually believe them.
16
AVERY
The game ends in a tight loss. Washington beat us in the playoffs last year, so we knew it was going to be a tough one.
I played okay, but having all the cameras focused on my “boyfriend” and our interaction definitely threw me off at first.
And the experience of Rawley wearing my jersey, those ripped arms on display, my name on his back?
That wide smile as I saw him for the first time in eight days?
The bear hug, being eclipsed by his big, strong body, the feel of his lips on my hair?
I can’t be too mad at myself. That wasa lot.
This whole circus around us isalla lot.
About two minutes after I was subbed into the game, I recentered myself though. Held their guard, an All-Star, to two points when I was playing, while making six baskets of my own.
I even fought through the distraction of the announcer introducing Rawley during a commercial break in the second quarter, keeping my back turned in the huddle while he had the moment with the fans.
Of course, my friends on the team don’t miss the opportunity to tease me now that the game is over.
“Looks like that night at Eclypse worked out for ya,” says Wendy, while a bunch of the other women laugh.
