Page 44 of Hard to Fake

I’m going to charm Elise and score a brand ambassadorship right out from under Caroline, I vow.

As I’m returning from the bathroom, I feel a hand on my shoulder.

“Hey, Brooke.”

I spin to find Kevin behind me in the hall.

He’s familiar, every inch of him, in a polished shirt and tie with dress pants. The casual lunch-break version of his uniform at his father’s law firm.

“What are you doing here?”

“It’s your mom’s event. My parents were the first to get an invite.”

“You’re not your parents.”

“Maybe I came for you.”

Emotions rise up that I swore I’d buried. He always had a way of making me feel special, even if his actions later proved otherwise.

“Kevin!” A voice calls from behind me, and we both look up.

The next moment, my brother’s stepping between us, a glass of champagne in each hand. “I’d say it’s great to see you, but we know that’s not true.”

Jay’s smile widens and Kevin’s falters.

“Nice to see you. Both of you.” He heads back toward the main room, and I exhale.

“Tell me that’s for me.” I reach for the champagne before waiting for a response.

“Good work, acrobat,” my brother says under his breath.

I have to win this contract, but if I’d thought it would be easy to ignore Kevin, I was wrong.

11

MILES

Our next two games are on the road, and we could use a couple of wins.

We drop the first to a tough San Antonio team.

Atlanta is up next.

They made some trades over the summer and came to play tonight.It starts out straightforward, but they home in on the fact we're short a big man, which means more defenders hanging around the perimeter to block every shot I put up.

I think about what Brooke said, that I’m not reaching my potential.

It got under my skin—or maybe that was her default mode of operating and I was already buzzing.

The attraction between us didn’t surprise me, but what did was how strong it was. I’m good at not taking things too seriously, but I’ve found myself thinking of her more than a few times this week.

“Miles!” Clay’s glaring at me to keep my head in the game.

On the next play, the guy guarding me talks smack about my team.

The next time I get the ball, I'm out for blood.

It's Clay’s and Rookie's job to play in the paint, up close. I'm the sniper. I watch and wait and stalk my prey from the outside, cutting through the other players to punk them, to line up the perfect shot…

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