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“Do not finish that sentence,” I warned. “Harper isn’t my ty—”
“Type. Yeah, yeah, so you keep saying. But has it ever occurred to you that maybe your type is all wrong? I mean, look at Jenni. She barely has time to see you.”
“Which is the major plus side of keeping her around.”
I liked that it was no strings. No pretenses. No promises.
Noah laughed. “So you’re telling me it’s never even crossed your mind that maybe Aiden, Connor, and I are onto a good thing? That maybe, finding a girl to put up with all our baggage and bullshit isn’t—”
“Not interested.”
He chuckled again, swapping his barbells for the dumbbells. “I get it. You think you don’t have time. You think a girl will complicate shit. I would have said the same thing before I met Rory. But now look at me.”
“Oh, I’m looking alright. I’m just not sure I like what I see.”
He flipped me off. “I’m notthatbad.”
“You’re worse than Morgan when he first got with Ella, and that’s saying something,” I said.
“No way I’m worse than Morgan. He was like a lovesick puppy.”
“You really need to take a long hard look in the mirror, Holden.”
“She makes me happy.”
“And I’m happy for you; I am. But seriously, man, you’ve got to leave the rest of us in peace.”
“Fine. I won’t say another word. Harper who?” He smirked, and I shook my head.
I didn’t need his encouragement. She was ingrained in my mind. It was unsettling, to say the least.
Scottie had dissected their entire time together. Replaying their conversations over and over. My kid brother was a huge Harper fan, by all accounts. There was no way I could ask her to stop working with him now. Which meant I had to apologize for even suggesting it.
Fuck.
“You think we can win tomorrow?”
I appreciated his change of subject.
“I think we stand a good chance.”
“I noticed Coach Dixon has taken a shine to you.” His mouth twitched, and I rolled my eyes.
“He has not taken a shine to me.”
“He didn’t spend an hour working one-on-one with anyone else,” Noah pointed out. “He wants you to take more shots, am I right?”
“Something like that,” I murmured, not entirely comfortable with this line of conversation.
“I don’t disagree. You’re great on the assist, but you shy away from taking the shot.”
“Because I know my strengths, and I play to them.”
“Or you’re scared.”
“The fuck?” A bolt of defensiveness went through me.
“Relax. I’m not being a dick. I’m just saying that maybe you’re scared to play to your full potential because it might mean you have to make some difficult decisions down the line. Decisions you’re not ready to make.”
