Page 22 of Hard to Break

I’ve never said that to a woman, but the words are there, not even waiting for me to come looking for them. They’re in the living room of my mind, in the foyer, busting out the front door and parading down the street with a ten-piece band.

I love Grams. I love basketball. I love Waffles because he loves me so much it’s impossible not to reciprocate. I love myfriends, but in that collective way where if one of them drifted away, I’d find others and it would be cool.

Loving Brooke is another thing entirely.

Doing it from a distance was safer. I could care all I wanted when she was in school and I got drafted. Then later, when she was hanging out with someone else, or I was—when she was my best friend’s little sister and I was the guy who looked out for her because it was the right thing to do.

I can’t go back to loving her from across the room. I won’t be able to watch her in the stands or play laser tag against her or ask what she’s planning for Jay’s birthday party and not know she’s mine.

But when I pull back to open my mouth, she’s looking past my shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” I ask over the music.

She smiles quickly. “Nothing.” But she can’t hide the fact that her head’s somewhere else.

It hurts a little.

“Garrett, man.” Another player cuts in to say hi. “The hell was that in the media?” he laughs.

“An apology.”

He exchanges a look with Brooke. “Didn’t look like one.”

He excuses himself to make conversation with another group of players.

“That what you think too?” I ask Brooke. After a couple of drinks, I’m not subtle.

“Honestly?”

“Always.”

“Your statement was possibly worse than saying nothing,” she decides. “It could piss off James and Harlan. Not like I don’t like to see them work for their money.”

I’m a chill guy, but all year I’ve been digging deep and find more of myself. More to give the team, the world. Feels as if I’vebeen excavated with a metal shovel digging down through rock. You go that deep with a tool that sharp, you’re going to leave some rough edges.

“Another round,” I say when we get back to the booth. “Order for me and I’ll be right back?”

Brooke nods and settles in, but I head to the back hallway toward the bathrooms. Inside, I bump into Hawkins.

“Nice game tonight,” he says.

“Team effort, man. You played all right yourself.”

“Once in a lifetime. Enjoy it,” he says.

“First, you mean,” I correct.

“No, I don’t.” He grins and I wait him out. “You’re not Jordan or Kobe or Clay Wade. You’re a diversion. Once you’re done being amusing, they’ll be on to the next guy who pulls his head out of his ass to build a streak for a few games. So will your girl. I’ve definitely seen her around all-star weekend a time or two.”

He brushes past me before I can respond. My hands fist at my sides as I start to lurch after him, but I bump into the sink.

Trash talk is nothing new. I just didn’t expect it from the guy I won a game with a few hours ago.

I know better than to let him under my skin. It’s none of my fucking business what Brooke did or didn’t do, but that doesn’t mean it’s not turning like a screw in my brain right now.

The door swings open, and in walks a group of young guys.

“Hey, Garrett, right? You’re legendary.” The guy who brushed in the door last is nearly my height but probably a college player from his age.

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