Page 45 of Hard to Fake

I make the next three baskets with his hand in my face.

Brooke: Nice game.

The text comes through when I’m in the locker room.

Miles: I’m impressed you watched.

Brooke: One quarter.

Miles: What would it take to make you watch all four?

Brooke: I’ve got better things to do than watch a bunch of sweaty dudes run up and down a court.

We’ve been texting back and forth since our little shopping trip.

Mostly stuff to do with the reunion, but I saw a pic of her on social wearing one of the dresses I bought her.

Miles: Dress is fire btw.

Brooke: Thanks. I wore it to this event of my mom’s. Something new is a good distraction from something broken.

Her words stuck with me on the plane, in shootaround the next day.

Is that what I do? Distract myself from what’s broken with something shiny and new?

I’m still thinking about it when my phone jumps in my hand.

Aliya.

She hasn’t texted since the party, and I’d figured she realized I wasn’t worth the hassle.

“I’ve decided how you can make it up to me,” she purrs when I answer. “Dinner from a private chef. Roses, at least six dozen, and?—”

“This isn’t working.”

Silence floods the line, as if we’re both surprised by what I’ve said. But now that I’ve started, I can’t stop.

“I’m sorry if I didn’t treat you the way I could have, but I was clear from the start. I’m not looking for a girlfriend. During the season I have to focus.” I frown. “And maybe I have too many issues with?—”

She hangs up before I can finish.

I'm still sitting in the ice bath when Jay and Clay come into the treatment room.

Jay grabs the tub next to mine, hissing as he sinks into it. “Figured you might be hooking up with someone after that game.”

“My fan club is very active tonight on social.”

“They leave a review of your performance?”

“I always get an A-plus.”

Clay half grunts, half laughs as he claims the massage table in the corner.

The team’s massage therapist appears a moment later to start working on his shoulders.

It’s not a lie. I have a fan club. They have T-shirts and host meetings. I send them signed Christmas cards and stop by on Miles Day in the summer.

"Why do you look like you took a charge and still can’t breathe?” Jay asks.

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