Page 60 of Your Secret to Keep

Lia. Wearing a headset. Next to an NBA hall of famer who became a commentator for one of the major networks.

I’m standing with my team when Coach asks, “Wait. Is that…?”

“Our girl, Lia? Sure as hell looks like it,” Jalen cheers, bumping my hip with his as he says our girl.

“Ooh. I wonder if someone ate the fish,” Coach wonders. When we all look at him like he’s speaking another language, he continues, “Apparently, half the staff got food poisoning. I didn’t want to say anything because some of us get queasy…”

Everyone looks to Jalen, who shrugs. “I can’t help it.” He shakes his hands like he’s trying to get something off him.

“Damn. You know what, though? She knows her shit. She was basically grilling me the other night about a pick and roll play,” Jamison adds, stretching his neck from side to side.

Having your friends and teammates refer to your girlfriend, even a secret girlfriend, as sports smart is top fucking tier. It makes me want to do anything to play my best for them. It also makes me want to devour Lia.

I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about her showing up at my place. In nothing but a jersey. Her making a mess on my counter. Those thoughts pop in at the most inopportune times… like right now. It’s been a week since that night and I’m itching to spend another with her.

Looking up at the Jumbotron and hearing the Jags fans clap for Lia, I feel full. It’s almost like my chest felt hollow, like there was too much room—for what, I wasn’t quite sure. That’s different now. It was meant for someone who wanted to know mefor me. The room was for these big-ass feelings I can barely compute in my brain, but they feel right in my chest.

Holy shit. Lia is sitting in the booth, which is closest to the thing she’s wanted to do for her whole life. She’s wearing a Jags purple blazer, andI can see her flushed cheeks. I don’t know what the hell happened but I’m almost salivating for the details. Right now, I’m so fucking excited for her. I wear a grin like it’s part of my uniform. We both deserve good things tonight.

The lights shift in the arena as the players make their way to the court.

Jalen reaches out to slap my hand. Clapping my back, he says, “You better do something tonight. Can you imagine Lia having to publicly talk about your shitty game in the booth?” He breaks into a laugh at his own joke, eyes squinting and hands on his knees.

“You’re really not that funny.” I get into position, wiping my hands on the front of my jersey, and wait for the tip.

The game is over and Idefinitelygave Lia something to say. We won, 112-108, and I scored the most points I’ve ever scored in a game: 50. I’m in the 50-piece club and the night couldn’t get better. The buzzer sounded a few seconds ago and my teammates crowd me, jumping before bowing in front of me.

Jalen runs up and puts a crown on my head, something I’ve only seen brought out one other time—last season when another Jags player scored 50 points. It only makes the guys more hyped. I can’t help the smile that’s plastered on my face as someone claps my back.

Pulling me in for a hug, Coach says, “Fucking proud of you. What a comeback.” He pats me a few times and grins before he’s stopped by an on-court reporter. I don’t know if I’ve ever been this happy. It’s not a championship, or a game with major implications, but winning a close one at home and being a key contributor is the fucking best.

The guys carry the energy all the way into the locker room, where they play music and dance in our space. I get in the middle of the circle, some loud rap song rattling my bones in the best way, and someone sprays me with champagne. Definitely overkill, and a little reckless because I don’t have goggles on, but so fucking fun.

When someone comes and gets me for the press conference, I decide to go as is—crown, champagne-soaked jersey and all.

The press laughs as I settle into the seat. I know the crown is over the top, but I don’t fucking care. It’s rare to do what I did tonight, and I want to remember it. Forever.

I scan the room and look for my favorite reporters—or that’s at least how I make it seem. Honestly, I’m looking for a gorgeous woman in a purple blazer. The one who can make my heart race or stop beating, depending on the interaction.

Lia stands in the corner with no other media staff to be found. I wonder if they are all sick, and she’s the last one standing. I don’t have to look long to see, or feel, that she’s glowing.

The first reporter jumps in. “Brooks, you seemed like you were on another level. Guess the knee is holding up? And the stinger is gone?”

I wonder if there will ever be a game when people won’t ask about the knee. For now, I don’t want it to kill my vibe, so I answer, “Sure is—enough to at least keep this crown on my head.” My joke is well received, the room content with happy laughter. “I’ve been feeling good. The stinger was a completely different type of injury, and I can’t say enough good things about the training staff here. For the knee, it seems like I’m back to normal, maybe even better than before? I don’t know… tonight was unreal.”

“How do you feel mentally? Any doubt when you’re going out to play?”

I take a deep, slow breath in, hold for a moment, and sigh it out before continuing. “I feel good. Some days I’m more mentally hesitant than others, if that’s a good way to put it. All I can do is trust my trainers and my body. And hope I don’t take any other hard falls.” I watch as heads bob and nod along with understanding. “Recovery has tested me in more ways than I thought. But right now, my life is the best it’s ever been.” I choose that moment to quickly look at Lia, long enough to see her perfect red lips smiling at me.

Another reporter, someone local and close to the team, raises her hand. When the microphone is brought to her, she asks, “Do you know anything about Lia Stone being in the booth tonight? I know you guys are close, based on social media and her work with the team. I was surprised to see her in there.”

I nod, guessing the reporter doesn’t know the person in question is in the room. “I don’t have all the details, but yeah, I guess Lia was in the booth. I’m not exactly sure what happened, but there is no one better to fill in. She’s smarter than some of the guys on my team… especially Jalen.” I make a joke, one Jalen will never let me forget, but it’s what we do to each other. “I’m sure she was great. I can’t wait to hear what she said when I scored that fiftieth point.”

My cheeks flush as I think about what tonight means, and luckily they’re still crimson with excitement and adrenaline. I’ll be able to watch this game back and hear what my girl thought while she was in the booth, doing something she’s dreamed of her whole life.

Fuck.

As a reporter puts their hand up, Blake runs up to the table and grabs the microphone. “Lia was a blast tonight. She stepped in when we were in a pinch, and there aren’t many people who could do what she did, the way she did it. I hope to do it again. Let’s give her some love.”

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