Page 57 of The Wrong Move

The players place their hands in the center of the huddle and shout something before breaking apart. Byron bounces up and down on the spot, and his eyes find mine. He jogs to the stairs, takes all three in almost one leap, then leans in and kisses me quickly on the lips. It takes me by surprise.

“Wish me luck?” he says with a grin.

“Good luck,” I whisper.

He jumps down to the court and runs into position.

Charlotte stares at me. “He has never done that.”

“What?”

“He has never brought a girl to the game to watch him, and he kissed you. Byron never deviates from his routine. They’re all superstitious about their pregame routines.”

“Oh.” I smile at her. “I like that I’m the first he’s kissed before a game.”

“You know how I mentioned superstition? Like, they eat the same thing for breakfast, wear the same underwear, say the same chant in their heads before every game. If he plays well tonight, he’ll take that kiss as something he needs to do beforeeverygame.”What?“He’ll want you here every home game, in this same seat, so he can kiss you before tip-off.” I look over to see if she’s joking, but Charlotte is serious.

“I’m not sure that’s possible.”

“Then pray he plays less than his best tonight.”

Byron didn’t play bad. In fact, he played outstanding, and as Charlotte predicted, he did all the fancy tricks for me. Brandon and Byron proved why they are the team’s best guards and not to mess with them. Even from my inexperience, I could tell how well the two work together, as though they know the other’s thoughts.

After the game, Charlotte and I wait outsider the locker room.

“What are your plans tonight?” she asks.

“I hope we’re heading out for pizza. What about you?”

“Who is we?”

“Byron and me, though BJ came with us to the game, so I assume he is also coming.”

Charlotte rolls her eyes. “They take best friends to another level. I’ve never had a best friend who had my back like these two do for each other.” She shrugs one shoulder. “Sometimes I wish I had a best friend, but then I would have to cancel catch-ups more times than not. Work always comes first.”

I touch her arm. “I can relate. I have friends, but not like Byron and BJ.”

“Half my friends are in New York. The guys are lucky they share the same interest, and it took them in the same direction from college to their current career goals. Surprisingly, they never argue, though BJ would agree with whatever Byron suggests.” She eyes me for a moment. “I could give BJ a ride to give you two some privacy?”

Boom. I knew it.

“Or you could both come with us? I don’t need privacy while eating pizza and drinking wine.” While I’m happy for them, my gut tells me Byron might not be as understanding as I am if they are a secret couple. One thing I remember about Byron is that he despises secrets and dishonesty.

The following morning,I wake in an empty bed. I crashed at Byron’s after consuming far too much wine. The last thing I remember is him refusing to touch me the way I wanted to be touched because I’d consumed too much alcohol, but he did kiss me a lot.

I spread my arms out on the while linen of his massive bed and stare up at his high ceiling and the grand light overhead. It is quite remarkable in its design. I wonder if Penny helped him choose it since he mentioned she helped with the interior design and decorating. I’m looking forward to meeting her.

I roll onto my side and groan. What am I saying? My thoughts are racing ahead to meeting his family and being part of his life. I need a shower to clear my head. Pushing up onto my elbow, I see a note on the bedside table. He left me a note before leaving for his training session.Cute.

Morning Gi,

I kissed your cheek and whispered goodbye, but you were in a deep sleep at four thirty this morning, so I didn’t wake you. If you need to leave before I get home, take one of the cars in the garage. After training, we have a strengths session and plyometrics. I’ll be home to cook you lunch.

B x

A warm sensation rolls over me. I fold his note. Before I make it to the shower, my ringtone sounds in my bag.Isabella is calling.

“Hello.” Thank God it’s not FaceTime, as I’m wearing one of Byron’s T-shirts.

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