Page 23 of Hard to Fake

“She said Brooke,” Miles repeats, and Aliya turns her attention to him.

“Oh, okay. And what’s my name?” Her voice is teasing.

“Aliya.”

“Just checking.”

She’s draped over him like a second skin.

“Forget what I asked. I’m drunk.” I glance at the Frenchie sitting obediently at my heels. “Let’s go, Waffles. We need to find the judges and make ourselves known.”

I'm gone before Miles can respond or make me feel like more of an idiot.

5

MILES

“Scary is where it’s at,” Atlas calls over the music, lifting his Frankenstein arms.

“No. Sexy gets you laid,” Rookie counters.

Jay shakes his head, holding up a hand. “Halloween is for girls to dress sexy.”

“But if they’re going to put the effort in, least you can do is show them what’s in it for them,” I point out, patting my abs.

Rookie high-fives me.

"Nice fur coat,” Atlas says.

"It's a vest," I tell him.

“Rambo?” Rookie guesses.

“Mountain Ken.” I hold up my axe.

The kitchen is full of people drinking and laughing. It’s easy to pick out the players and former players in any basketball mixer because we’re head and shoulders above the crowd.

“You drink anything that’s not mint tea or some kind of rehab concoction, you’re gonna hear about it.” Jay stabs a finger at Atlas as our big guy reaches for a beer.

Today, we had team meetings and practice. I stayed late for an extra-long workout and to watch tape, trying to study sequences from the last few games to see where we’re leaking. We’ve got challenges coming up over the next two weeks in the form of a tough Memphis team and then Oklahoma City.

“Where’d your Kodashian go?” Rookie asks me. Jay snorts.

It’s only then I realize Aliya isn’t here.

She had been blowing up my phone, begging me to bring her to this party. I felt bad about bailing the other day, so I caved and said sure, figuring I could use the distraction and she seemed to want to come.

I only have so much power to make dreams come true, so hey, might as well.

On the other side of the room, Brooke's laughing with Nova and Sierra. She always looks good, but tonight, it’s as if the universe is out to sing her praises.

Brooke’s smile is a million watts. Her blue dress hugs her curves, ending in a school-girl-style skirt high on her toned thighs. Her black hair is swept into pigtails that end along her breasts. Her golden skin gleams in the low light. Dark-red lipstick traces every curve of her mouth, and my dog is parked next to her sparkly red shoes, looking up at her as though she hung the damn moon.

"See something you like?" Jay asks.

My attention snaps back, and I take a drink of my beer. “Just thinking it’s a good party.”

Brooke's words come back to me.

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