Page 10 of Hard to Fake

Last Years’ Champion Kodiaks a “One-Hit Wonder”? Hoops News Has the Scoop

“Come on, man. We’re late. Coach is going to have your ass,” I say.

Waffles whines up at me from the pavement, his big, dark eyes taking over his tiny, squished face.

“We agreed to this. We shook on it. Now you’re acting like it never happened?”

I'm already behind, as the buzzing alert on my phone has let me know twice.

French Bulldogs are equal parts muscle and cute. I tug the leash and he braces against me, shifting his ass as if he can glue it to the pavement.

Thirty-pound professional napper vs two-twenty pro athlete.

It's obvious to everyone but Waffles which way this is going to go.

"Don't make me do it,” I warn.

I adjust my bag across my shoulder and scoop the Frenchie into my arms. In the three years I've had him, he still doesn't love me picking him up. His whimper reminds me his life is balls as I walk with him toward the doors.

"Miles!" a female voice calls from behind me.

I turn to see three twenty-something women waving and smiling.

“Great game against Boston the other night,” a blonde woman says, making her way toward me.

I nod since both my hands are full. “Thanks, I appreciate that.”

We got a win, and my shooting line was impeccable.

"I’m a huge fan. Can I get a picture?" she stops in front of me, breathless.

Posing with fans is something I have no problem with. I get that some athletes prefer their privacy, but they’re in the wrong business. Being available to take a picture is the least I can do for all the time and money they spend to cheer us on.

“What a cute dog.”

Waffles makes a little grunt in his throat, and I shoot him a look before shifting him to my other side away from her.

She presses as close as possible to take the selfie.

"Right. Well, it was nice to meet you. I’ll see you around?” Her smile is hopeful, like she wants me to ask for her number.

“You got it,” I reply easily. Not because I think I’ll see her, but because it’s the best thing to say to fans.

I have a healthy confidence—some might say cockiness—but it still throws me how much interest I get from women. The dark hair and the straight teeth courtesy of braces always did me right, but since we won, it’s like I look too long and panties drop.

Most days, I’m into it.

I’m the guy you have fun with for a night, a week, a summer. I can put a smile on anyone’s face, and when it comes to women, I’ll give them a memory they can look back on fondly.

I’m not looking for a deep connection.

Except since we became world champs, the number of people who want something from me has grown exponentially.

I dropped math first year of college, so I’m not sure how many that is, but it’s a lot.

“That Hoops News article is BS!” she calls after me.

I frown as I adjust the dog in my arms. “Nice to meet you too,” I reply even though I didn’t get her name.

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