Page 9 of Before I Loved You

“Why so down?” Nate sits on the captain’s chair, crossing his ankles before him.

I shrug it off. “Just a long day.”

“What’s going on, man? You haven’t been yourself for the past month.” He crosses his arms over his chest, brows furrowing. “Do you regret transferring to Linrey?”

“No.” I adamantly shake my head. “It’s not that.”

He arches a brow, waiting for me to continue, but I don’t know if I can.

Because what I’m about to admit is going to make me sound like a prepubescent teenage boy.

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I close my eyes.

Let’s get this over with.

“There’s a girl…”

“Aha! I knew it.” He chuckles, turning his baseball hat backward. “Who is it?”

“Well, that’s the thing.” I let out a resigned sigh. “I don’t actually know.”

His face scrunches in confusion. “You’ve lost me.”

I rest my elbows on my knees, staring at the vinyl flooring. “About a month ago, some guys from my team and I went to On The Rocks, the bar near campus under a hotel. I honestly didn’t even want to be there, but…” I shake my head. “The second I walked in, my eyes locked onto this girl.” The memory of her pops into my mind, fresh and vibrant. Her long, silky black strands of hair smelled of apple and honey. Her iridescent green eyes sparkled under the bar lights. That damn beautiful smile and those delicate floral tattoos on her pale thighs and arms I traced with my tongue. “My legs walked over to her on their own accord. It was like she was some damn magnet, and I couldn’t pull away from her even if I wanted to. There was something about her. It was as though I knew her, but I didn’t.” I look off at the sea. “I knew she was there, looking for someone to leave with. So I made sure that someone was me. We left the bar to get a room, and we…” I wave my hand around dismissively. “Well, you get the picture.”

Nate laughs, shaking his head.

“It was the best night of my life,” I say matter-of-factly. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her. And it’s driving me fucking crazy.”

“Then why don’t you just call her?” he asks, tilting his head.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t even fucking know who she is,” I say, sounding as exasperated as I feel.

Nate’s brows raise, clearly needing me to explain.

“We never exchanged numbers. And we never exchanged names. She didn’t want to make things complicated. She just wanted one night, and that’s what I gave her. One night.”

There’s pity on Nate’s face. “But Paul, you’re not a one-night stand kind of guy.”

I let out a humorless laugh. “Yeah. I know that.” I finish the rest of my drink and toss it beside me. “She had no idea who I was. No care about my last name or how much money sits on my future NBA contract. And yet, she wanted me. Do you know how refreshing that was?”

Nate nods, taking in my words.

He’s the only one I’ve talked to about this.

The weight that crushes my shoulders, knowing what people expect from me because of the last name on my jersey.

Because once a girl finds out who I am, or more accurately, my last name, that’s all they care about.

Not me, but a front-row seat in the spotlight that shines too bright for my liking.

They know I’m the NBA’s most sought-after player, expected to be the number-one draft pick next year, and all they see in their pretty eyes are those flashing neon dollar bill signs.

“There must be a way to find her,” Nate insists, removing his hat to run his fingers through his dark brown hair.

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