Page 1 of Heartbreak Hill

ONE

GRAYSON

At six foot six, Grayson Caballero likened himself to a basketball god, as if the world needed another Michael Jordan, LeBron James, or Larry Bird.

The only problem was, he wasn’t nearly as good as his favorite players, hadn’t been allowed to play in college, and had no aspirations of trying out for the G League, or the “baby NBA,” as all his friends called it. However, he was a powerhouse in the local recreation league that met every Sunday during the winter.

Before every season, other team managers would reach out to him, begging him to be on their team. Teams hated playing against him. He could post up, slam the ball down, and drain the three-point shot from anywhere just past the half-court line. Everyone wanted him on their team because they’d win if he played for them, and no one could really guard him. Although Grayson let them until he’d “turned it on,” so to speak.

Grayson watched as the play developed. He flashed across the key, keeping his hands high for a pass. When it didn’t come, he dropped down the block and posted up. Finally, someone passed to him. He palmed the leather basketball and held it out of reach from his opponent—who jumped, swatted, and tried to climb Grayson to get to it.

“Get off.” Grayson gave the man behind him a little push and laughed at theumphsound he made.

“Foul!” the man from the other team yelled as he fell to the ground. Grayson used this to his advantage and spun to the hoop, jumped, and slammed it through the rim. Unfortunately for the guy on the ground, the ball landed in the spot no man ever wants to get hit.

He rolled over and groaned. Grayson laughed. He didn’t have sympathy for his opponent, mostly because the men in the league liked to play dirty, and besides, Grayson had caught the man talking to Reid.

Reid Sullivan. The love of Grayson’s life.

“You pinched me,” Grayson pointed out as he bent to pick up the ball, keeping his eyes on Reid. He stood there with the ball on his hip, watching the woman he was deeply in love with as she smiled and chatted animatedly with some guy Grayson hadn’t seen before.

“Ball!” someone yelled from behind Grayson. He flicked the ball off in the direction of the other team and then headed down the court to play defense. It didn’t matter what team he was on; they always played a zone defense, with Grayson in the middle. This setup forced the other teams to shoot from outside, unless they had someone who could match up with Grayson’s height.

When the horn sounded for halftime, Grayson looked up at the scoreboard. They were up by twenty. Not nearly the cushion he wanted. They had another twenty minutes to increase their lead.

Grayson made his way to the wooden bleachers, where Reid sat, watching him play. When he wasn’t in the game, she’d read on her tablet. She didn’t have a real interest in basketball. Every weekend he asked her to come with him, and every weekend she said yes.

She smiled as he approached. To him, she was “Sully,” because in his mind that kept her in the friend zone, where he needed her to stay. It was safer for them this way, especially for her.

They’d met at work, during their first day of orientation at the Wold Collective, where he was a project manager specializing in custom boardroom tables, and she was in Human Resources. They’d hit it off,their palpable attraction to each other soon increasing tenfold with the amount of time they spent together. They became fast friends. Best friends, even. They told each other everything and could finish each other’s sentences. They spent countless hours together, which had only worsened Grayson’s attraction to her.

Then one night, everything changed.

Grayson didn’t regret spending the night with her. He knew she was the one for him and bemoaned not being able to give her the life she wanted from him. He’d told her the best he could offer her was best friend status. A friendship with all the benefits, minus the romantic entanglements of broken hearts and feelings he wouldn’t be able to show her.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like her. He did, more than he’d ever admit to her, or anyone, for that matter. It was that he couldn’t.

Sully reached into her weekend bag and pulled out a bottle of water for him. While she reached for it, he tugged the ends of her auburn hair, winked, and sat down one row in front of her, stretched his legs, and leaned against the bench behind her.

“Thanks, Sully.”

This was one of the times he hated being so tall. Had he sat next to her, he’d have to slouch to see her. Sitting like this, all he had to do was tilt his head, and he could see her clearly.

She looked down at him and smiled.

“Don’t mention it.”

He would. Repeatedly. It was the only way he could show or tell her how much he appreciated her.

Before twisting the cap off and chugging the water down, he caught her gaze for a moment longer than he should. Her eyes were a warm brown, two shades lighter than his. If he wasn’t careful, he’d find himself staring into them. Staring could easily lead to leaning, which could lead to kissing.

Nope.

There wasn’t anything he didn’t like or even love about Sully. She was compassionate, patient, and fiercely loyal to her friends and family. Even after he’d tried to distance himself from her, she’d remained a steadfast presence in his life.

He absolutely despised any man she talked to, hence the dude he’d elbowed before the half, and he felt murderous rage whenever she went on a date. None of them were ever good enough for her, in his opinion, and his opinion was the only one that mattered. She took his word, valued his opinion, and shared her deepest, darkest secrets with him, despite him hating her stories about the men she dated. At her request, he’d done the same—most of it lies so she wouldn’t think something was up. Sure, he’d gone on some dates, but those were setups by his best friend, Pearce Carey, who was also his coworker and the male counterpart to Reid in Grayson’s life, and who also had no idea how he felt about her.

“What’s his name?” Grayson nodded toward the other team’s bench, but not specifically at the guy who’d taken one to the groin after Grayson had slammed the ball down.

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