Page 71 of 4th Degree

“Would you rather always be stuck in traffic, or have to take public transportation everywhere?”

He actually shudders. “The public transportation one. Sticking me in traffic would be a genuine form of torture if I was ever captured.” He says it so seriously that a laugh bursts out of me.

“Alright, smartass,” he growls, “I’ve got one for you. Would you rather have everyone be able to read your thoughts, or everyone have access to your Internet history?”

Heat flames my face at the things I’ve googled.

“Guess that answers that question,” he says with a chuckle, leaning back to brace his forearms on the bleacher behind him, behind me. My eyes follow the line of his muscles that his white shirt reveals. He’s so effortlessly attractive that it makes my throat dry up. I have to clear my throat before my next question.

“Would you rather be the absolute best at fighting but no one knows it, or wear the UFC championship belt and have everyone think you’re a joke?”

His eyes widen and his jaw drops as his face swivels toward me. “You’re a monster,” he whispers. This time, when I laugh, it feels like the most effortless thing in the world.

And that’s how it goes. Back and forth, until I completely lose track of time.

When he asked to come, I wasn’t worried that we wouldn’t have anything to talk about, or that it would feel weird spending time with him outside of the gym, but I never expected it would feel this easy to be with him. I could sit here for another six hours. It wouldn’t matter if we’re talking about pointless topics or discussing the secret to greatness. I feel like I would never get tired of picking Dominic’s brain.

And that is terrifying.

I’m distracted from my impending nerves when I see Joey jump up from the bench and stride onto the court when his coach gestures him forward. My heart starts to beat twice as fast.

We’ve talked through the entire game. Looking up at the scoreboard, I realize it’s the end of the fourth quarter and the score is tied.

I’m silent as I watch the next few minutes unfold. Joey gets the ball a few times, but he doesn’t get the opportunity to shoot. He runs as fast as he can on the opposing team’s breakaway, and manages to get the rebound when their shot doesn’t go in. I think I let out a shout and a cheer when that happens.

Joey’s coach is screaming for a play, the urgency thick in the air. I can’t breathe from the anticipation.

Both teams struggle to score. When one of the opposing team’s shots just barely tips off the rim, our side of the crowd audibly lets out the breath we were holding. And when the same thing happens to one of our shots, they groan.

Then, with twenty seconds left in the game, Joey gets the ball. I suck in a breath and grab Dominic’s arm in a death-grip. Joey fakes to one side and then drives in when the kid guarding him trips in that direction. He lifts the ball, aims, and shoots.

The crowd is so silent, we can hear the sound of the ball swishing through the net.

And then the gymnasium erupts. I’m screaming so loud, I can’t hear a thing from anyone else. Still latched onto Dominic, he cheers as I start jumping up and down, my heart exploding with happiness and pride as I watch my brother lifted onto his teammates’ shoulders.

“Holy shit, that was incredible!” I throw my arms around Dominic’s neck without a second’s hesitation, squeezing him in a tight hug. “He did it!”

His arms wrap around me, his chuckle warm in my ear. “Yeah, he did.”

The feel of his embrace is too good to let go of. Especially when his hold tightens, and his intoxicating scent invades my senses. I love that he’s here for this.

I love that he’s here.

Begrudgingly, I unwind my arms from around his neck and slide down his body. But I can’t quite let go of him completely, because my hands stay flat on his chest. His stay on my hips. When I finally glance up at him, his stare hits deep into my soul.

I can’t look away. But I still have to muster up the courage to whisper, “I’m glad you came.”

My words soften him. Still holding my gaze, he says quietly, “Me too.”

And I wonder if this feeling in my chest is the tight circle of my world expanding a little more.

25

SKYLAR

“Skylar!”

I spin around on the basketball court to see Joey coming through the big doors. He’s got a huge grin on his face, and has every bit the swaggering confidence of a winner when he spreads his arms out wide and says, “Game-winning shot, baby!”

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