Page 3 of Hard to Break

The owner of the Kodiaks occupies the head of the conference table. His hands are steepled, fingers manicured.

I’m on the side near the window, Chloe two seats down. At the other end of the table, opposite James, is Harlan, the GM.

I got called to the principal’s office a handful of times in high school. The first was for a prank we pulled on our coach. Another time was for arguing with a teacher. In both instances, Grams listened to me vent about it and smiled at me after.

The third time, Grams wasn’t smiling. She told me I knew better and gave me a talking to and reminded me what was at stake—my future.

I always got what it meant to have a future even if I didn’t have a clear picture of it in my mind. I wanted my life to be better—to be accepted, to know where I fit and have people who had my back no matter what.

“I hope we all know why we’re here.” James is really taking this principal thing to heart, only it’s impossible to forget the stakes are far higher than a suspension.

“We’re here because some deluded fan picked a fight with our starting shooting guard,” Chloe weighs in.

I cut her a grateful look.

Going into this, I wasn’t sure where the battle lines lay. I might not be a strategist like Brooke, but I know enough to realize that’s what this meeting is—a battle.

Is it possible the head of PR is on my side?

“That’s not what’s all over the internet.” James pulls out his phone, scrolling through whatever’s on his screen. If it’s possible, his frown deepens. “The accusations are damaging.”

Harlan clears his throat. “What’s most important is the record of this basketball team. We’re here to win games.”

“You have the luxury of caring about the record. I have to care about the name.” James jerks out of his chair and paces the front of the room.

Fifty bucks says he kicks the trash can by the door.

The voice in my head might be cracking jokes, but this is serious. The Kodiaks won a championship last year and our chance to win another is slipping through our fingers. I didn’t need to read the sports news today to see our seventh-place ranking, down in recent weeks thanks to me and Jay fighting, and now Kevin decides to vent his frustrations in my face on the team’s doorstep.

It’s not a good look for us.

Growing up with my parents splitting and letting me fall through the cracks of their bitter war taught me not to take relationships for granted.

Through hard work and luck, my life became a regular rotation of games and practices, hanging with my guys, spending time with whatever girls were easy to be around when I wanted it. Now, every part of my existence has been dialed up.

Basketball. My family.

Brooke.

I moved her in with me when she needed to save some cash while she was building her own career because I knew firsthand what it felt like to need someone and not have them there.

The weeks I spent trying to resist her up close after years of doing it from a distance were pure torture.

Now, I wake up with Brooke beside me, getting to hold her, to laugh with her, to touch her. Feeling wanted, accepted.

It’s new.

It’s addictive.

She’s the best part of my world and I hold my breath as if I’m waiting for it all to shatter.

There’s a knock at the door, and Jay walks in. “Sorry I’m late.”

I straighten in my chair at my friend and team captain’s appearance.

He scans the table and the available seats. It’s only a second but feels like a year before he chooses one near Harlan.

Who invited him—Harlan? James? Maybe even Chloe?

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