Page 18 of Hard to Break

5

BROOKE

Jay: Give Hawkins a message: we’re coming for Boston after all-star break

Damon: Sign it with a kiss

Miles: Should the kiss be from me or Clay?

Atlas: Both

Damon: You better check with the girls first

Brooke: Nova and I approve this use of lips

“Inever thought this would end with us on opposite sides,” I say as I fold my arms.

Nova blinks up at me with eyes rimmed with glittery gold liner. “It doesn’t have to be that way.”

In a cream outfit with gold boots, her hair in expert waves for TV, she could be some kind of WAG fairy.

“Oh, I think it does. You see this name?” I call over the murmur of the capacity Vegas crowd, pointing at the back of my jersey. “That’s my loyalty tonight.”

The all-star jerseys are blue for the Western Conference and gold for the East. It’s nearly impossible to get them ahead of the game, but I used my contacts to not only score one but have it altered into a shift dress that shows off my legs.

Underneath, I’m wearing over-the-knee dark-blue suede boots. My hair is smoothed back in a glossy high ponytail.

I arch a brow and inspect my manicure—not Kodiaks’ purple but blue, part of the outfit I’ve been putting together all week.

Nova leans in. “Too bad we’re besties and I know all your secrets, Brooke Ellis.”

I can’t help grinning in response.

Tonight, Miles and Clay are on opposite sides.

Nova, Chloe, Mari, and I are all here to cheer on Miles and Clay. But the battle lines have been redrawn tonight, with players from the same regular season team split up based on the captains’ picks.

“You’d better, because you really don’t want to make her your enemy.” We both turn to see Jay make his way into the seats at the end with Rookie.

Surprise nearly has me dropping my beer. I didn’t figure my brother would come, but maybe he did it out of solidarity with his teammates.

“She holds a grudge. This one time when I was fourteen and she was twelve, she wanted to come to an event with me, and I said no. She was still in that tagalong phase. She snuck out and followed me anyway, made friends with the organizers, and got in on her own. Little sis had a crush on one of the players.”

“That was over in a second. His twin had the most amazing hair, and I needed to ask her how she did it,” I counter.

His lips twitch. Not quite a smile, but I’m secretly pleased to see it anyway.

Jay’s gaze falls to my jersey, but if it bothers him to see me wearing something with Miles’s name on it, he doesn’t comment on it.

Progress, I decide.

“In that case”—Nova holds out a hand to me—“may the best all-star win.”

On the court, the players are announced one at a time. The crowd erupts with each new name. One player after another steps out onto the court to acknowledge the applause and give the cameramen time for a closeup for the millions watching on TV.

I clap for Clay when he rises and waves to the crowd. I’m not a total monster.

But when they say Miles’s name, I scream my lungs out.

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