Page 82 of Your Secret to Keep

I nod but think about how I’d prefer to take my time with her. I never want to rush things, and give her a devilish smirk.

Maybe she knows exactly what I’m thinking because she puts her hand over the mic, turns her head, and says, “Quit that,” under her breath.

We get the cue that the camera is rolling, and Lia says, “Brooks Pittman, how’s that knee feeling?”

My fingers feel for the tape as I answer, “Good. Probably even better than before the injury. Ready to go out and get a win tonight.” My hands rest on my hips as Lia looks at me.

“That’s what we want to hear. Now, you’re playing one of the top teams in the league, but from the other conference. Some say this could be an early glimpse into an NBA Finals match up. What’s the one thing you have to do to win this game?”

She puts the mic in front of my mouth. “We can’t turn the ball over,” I stress. “Every possession counts and we can’t give them any freebies.”

“Good luck, Brooks.”

“You too, Lia,” I reply as the red light above the camera disappears.

Megan and the camera man scurry to the next thing—whatever that is—and I know I only have a second of her time.

“I got you a present. It’s sitting behind the bench.”

She scrunches her brows. “What do you mean?”

Lia looks from me to the bench, and it takes her a second before she finds Wes.

“You didn’t!” she screams.

“I did,” I reply with a grin. “Believe me, it wasn’t hard to get him here.”

“With seats like that, I bet.” She smiles at me in the way where I know she wants to say something else. Something more. But this isn’t the place. “Good luck tonight.”

I watch as she runs over to Wes and wraps him in a hug.

I put up a few shots and when her eyes find mine, I blow her a quick kiss.

Her cheeks are crimson enough for me to see them from here.

Chapter 49

Lia

Sleepinginisthebest. Brooks left early to do rehab before watching film and I’m still in bed with Rocky. No one tells you how hard it is to get out of bed when you have a dog. Like, I’m supposed to leave him here? All snuggled up? No way. The only thing that would make this morning better? Brooks, if he was next to me. And if I had a mug of hot tea or a Dr. Pepper. Any of my favorite drinks would do.

Brooks. The way this man has me down bad. All the way down in the best way. Yesterday he jumped in while I was using icepacks and eye masks to get the swelling down before the game. The way he supports me, without question, is something I’m trying to get used to.

Stretching my arms above my head, I feel the muscle knots in my shoulders. Probably from being nervous at the game. It wasn’t as intimidating as being in the booth for a televised game, but it was just as rewarding. Another pinch me moment for the books,andmy muscles. I melt, thinking about the slow yoga I can do to loosen up. Something about me is I love a yoga session that’s only for me—when I’m not in charge of anyone else.

With nothing but time, I sink back into the bed, replaying last night’s game. Wes got to see the Jags win in overtime, and I got to do some on-court interviews, all from some of the best seats in the house. He was blowing up my phone last night, freaking out. It didn’t help that Brooks signed his jersey and threw it to him, and Jalen’s jersey to Wes’ friend, after the game.

I’m sure there must be a hilarious social media post where Wes is fangirling and I so badly want to see it. I look for my phone and remember it died last night. I unplug it from the charger and power it on as Rocky comes to lay right next to me. It’s like he always has to be touching me. When the screen comes to life, the notifications are nonstop. Like, one after another, differentiating from text messages and social media.

What is happening?

I reach for it but the only thing I see are notification banners, one after another. I open my text messages and go to Shelbie’s contact, since she’s a favorite and pinned at the top.

Shelbie

omg are you alright

how did they get those photos?

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