Page 31 of Hard to Take

Miles: My bad. Leave any more jewelry in my bed?

Brooke: Like what, a nipple ring?

Fuck me.

The idea of her with one or both of her perfect tits pierced ruins any hope of focusing on the game.

I have to keep my head on straight. We’re playing a strong Miami team in their arena.

Since I was a kid, I’ve always been competitive. I’m always the first one cracking a joke, or laughing at one, the first person to do a dare, the first to lay down a challenge.

Between the pressure on the court and everything else, my fingers dash out a text and hit send.

Miles: We get the win tonight, I want the rest of the picture.

It’s a mistake.

I know it the moment I type it out, but it’s too late to take back.

Every second that ticks by, I’m holding my breath.

Brooke: Miami’s won five straight.

The knot in my gut releases, apprehension replaced with adrenaline.

Miles: So you don’t have anything to worry about.

Brooke: Fine. Deal.

From the opening tip-off, it’s a battle. The fans are like a sixth player, giving us a grief on every foul shot and out-of-bounds.

I keep grinding.

“Come on, man. You got this.” Jay slaps my back in encouragement.

My shots start going in, and as I rack up points, I create more and more of my own offense.

Jay and I manage to connect for a couple of big plays. His relief is evident from the other side of the court.

When we win, the guys rush over to clap me on the back and whip me with their towels.

I grab my phone and take a screenshot of the scoreline, sending it off to Brooke in a text.

Just in case she didn’t see it herself.

When the interviewer grabs me for a post-game chat on the court, she says, “Gritty win tonight. What do we owe this new, tougher Miles to?”

“Trying to get wins while we’re shorthanded.” I’m still catching my breath.

“Rumor has it you’re one of the most popular players in the league,” the interviewer says with a laugh.

“If you can’t make friends here, you’re doing it wrong.”

Tonight, I backed my team up big time. There’s no arguing with it. When I play like that, I’m worth every one of the millions of dollars I’m set to make this year.

“What’s next for Miles?” she asks.

I’m riding a high of invincibility as I stare straight into the camera.

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