It’s smart to give him a little space and conserve energy until he gets inside the three-point line. But it’s a short game, and that point I just scored lit a fire within me that’ll carry me through to the end.
Even if it doesn’t, my desire to pummel Grayson into the ground will.
The wholeI can deal with losing in basketball? Yeah. Not happening anymore.
I get right up in his face, stance wide, jabbing at his dribbling hand.
“So that’s how you want to play.” The soft words are barely out when he crosses the ball behind his back and darts left. I sprint to catch up, but he fades back before I can stop. The ball hits the backboard and goes in.
I snag the ball before I have to hear whatever bullshit Grayson’s two points just inspired, and send it to JJ, who’s already halfway down the court. Anson and Grayson aren’t expecting the fast turnaround. A second later, JJ reaches high for an easy layup. “Gotta be quicker, boys!”
“JJ, you talk too fucking much.” Anson’s face is set in stern lines as he comes down the pavement.
“Check your panties.” JJ winks, closing in on him. “Pretty sure they’re twisted.”
Anson fades right, then passes left. I’m in line to intercept when Grayson flies in front of me with way more speed than JJ described. He yanks the ball from the air and drives to the basket.
In it goes. Four-Four.
Apparently he’s learning, because he doesn’t stick around to gloat, joining Anson to hustle down the court.
This is the pace for several points. I shoot and passquickly, because my dribbling is abysmal. Grayson doesn’t try poking at my hands like I do to him. In fact, he’s careful not to make contact with me at all. He just edges to my right, forcing me to move to my weak side or give up the ball. Luckily, JJ is an evasion artist, getting open for a pass again and again.
Until he doesn’t.
With Grayson all over my right side, I hold the ball and prepare to pass. But Anson’s figured out JJ’s game, and he can’t get free.
“What trick you gonna pull now?” Grayson taunts, bringing his broad chest right up in my space. He’s like a goddamn brick wall.
“I don’t know,” I lie. Planting one foot, I duck and drive my elbow into his rock-hard gut. I hear his expulsion of air as I pivot back, using the space I created to get a shot off.
In it goes.
I wink. “Maybe a little something like that.”
“That was a foul,” Grayson accuses.
“Can’t handle a little roughness, Grayson?”
His mouth curves, all rogue. “It’s all about the setting, Boston. Just don’t want to set a bad precedent on the court.”
There’s no chance for a retort because Grayson turns for the sideline, calling a timeout. His arms flex as he pulls his shirt off and tosses it aside, and all my wit withers away.
Grayson Gold doesn’t just have hot guy arms. He has hot guy…everything.My eyes shamelessly rivet to the tapestry of tanned skin and thick muscle, not overtly chiseled like a bodybuilder, but honed for function. Perfectly proportional, all male, with a light dusting of hair across his chest and a happy trail that disappears beneath his waistband.
And,yeah, there’s a hint of aveethat also disappears into his shorts.
Why, universe. Why?!
JJ, guardian angel that he is, also whips off his shirt, and his equally incredible physique dulls the shock of Grayson’s—but not before Grayson catches me watching him and develops a smug smirk that makes me want to dive face-first into the pavement.
I remind my eyes that they’renotto look below his neckline as he jogs over.
“See something you like?”
“What makes you think that?”
JJ’s still making his way back on the court, and Anson’s thankfully out of earshot.
