Page 53 of The Wrong Move

“Byron, sit and hold your niece,” Mom says.

I take a seat beside my sister, smiling sweetly at Summer. “Hold out your arms,” Charlotte says gently. I look at her for a moment, expecting a taunt about being clueless with babies, but it doesn’t come.

With my niece in my arms, content in her sleep, I can’t help but feel a sense of contentment of my own. But I know peace never lasts.

Late Saturday afternoon,I drive to Brandon’s house before the game. It feels like any other game, except it’s an internal game—purely for our team’s benefit since preseason doesn’t officially start until October. Yet it’s different because this time, Giana is watching me play. My body tingles with nerves, more excited than ever. Not a good thing when I’m trying to level out my thoughts and focus on the game.

“You ready to prove we’re the best guards on the team?” Brandon says after closing the car door. It might be a training game, but we’re both wearing trousers and a white button-up with the LA Sharks logo on the left side of his chest.

“You bet.” We do our shake—back of hands, palm to palm, smack, smack, then a light punch. “Did I mention Gigi is coming?”

He turns to me, wide-eyed. “Serious?”

“It’s been years since she saw me play.”

Brandon grins. “And live. She could have watched the game on TV.”

I shake my head. “She’s not like that. She doesn’t love the game. But she’ll watch to support me. It’s what she did in high school.”

I veer into traffic.

He thrums his fingers along the armrest. “You’ve never talked about her.”

“She was the one who got away, so I did what I could to forget.” I give him a quick glance. “Fate.” I shrug. “She’s here, and I know I want to try with her again. So, while she is home, I’m proving I’m not the guy I was back then.”

I see Brandon staring at me in my periphery. “Who were you back then?”

I tap my finger along the steering wheel to the beat of the tunes pumping out of my speakers. I should be listening and motivated. “I did what I had to do and made basketball my priority. Some considered it selfish. I thought of it as focused. Remember when things didn’t go my way in my freshman year? I was… reckless.”

He wipes the palm of his hand across his mouth. “Yep. You took some convincing to calm the fuck down.”

I shake my head to dispel the images in my mind. Not just the night with Giana, but on other days when I was so drunk at parties I passed out.

“Your toxic trait was when shit went down concerning basketball, and you acted like it was the end of the freaking world. At least now you sulk for a day or so and then your mind is back and focused to prove them wrong.”

I chuckle. “So what you’re saying is I’ve grown up. I wasn’t selfish, just immature.”

He laughs. “Wait. Where are we?”

“Picking up Gigi.”

His eyes go round. “She’s comingwith youto the game?”

“Yep. And you need to move your ass to the back seat.”

Brandon peers into the back of my Porsche. “My legs won’t fit in there.”

I grin. “Then you best ask Gigi if she minds.”

Before I turn off the engine, Giana is closing the front gate. She is wearing a pink floral maxi dress with a small bag in the same material. She looks fashionable, classy, and sexy. Her long, dark hair is pulled back into a ponytail and has a curl to it. My mind is on where she’ll sit tonight, as I don’t want her next to just anybody.

“Hi.” She waves. I’m out of the car and around her side instantly, ready to open the door. Brandon steps out of the car. “Oh, you must be Brandon.”

He takes her hand and kisses it. “I am. And you must be Gigi. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

I step between them. “You can drop her hand now.”

Giana’s hand goes to her chest. She looks up at me. “You’ve never kissed my hand.” I step close, take her face in my palms, and kiss her lips slowly before flicking my tongue out to taste her. I pull back and stare into her beautiful eyes. “That’s because I’m busy kissing your lips. And BJ here is sucking up to you, hoping you’ll allow him to sit in the front.”

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