Page 149 of Scoring the Player
“I told you. They came knocking.”
“Nah. I don’t buy it.” I cross my arms. “You’re telling me we’re the only team that came knocking? All these years?”
He looks past me. “No. I’m not saying that.”
I knew it.“Then why?”
“You’re one of the best teams in the league.”
“You never cared about coaching the best. You always preferred underdogs.”
His hand swipes over his mouth, but not before I see the tiny smirk.
“Whatever you’re feeling right now, it’s not real. I don’t know you. I don’t want your coaching. You remember what you told me that day in the gym? Now it’s your turn to stay away from me.”
“How am I supposed to do that when I’m your assistant coach?”
I’m already walking away.
“We’re on the same team now, Arnaz.”
“Nah. Coach the other fourteen. I’m good.”
“It’s not that I didn’t feel what you felt,” he admits.
My footsteps falter.
I squeeze my eyes closed as he repeats the impossible.
“It doesn’t make it right. I was your?—”
I turn and lurch toward him. “You can’t say that!”
I swallow down the taste of vodka.
“It’s true.”
“Don’t…” My voice cracks as the years unravel. “You can’t…”
“Okay,” he whispers, eyes glassy. “Okay.”
Ussef emerges from the arena, beelining straight toward us.
I can’t fucking be here.
As soon as the doors lower, I rev the engine and take off.
CHAPTER 35
SALEM
Something’s off with Blue. I can feel it. His texts over the last two weeks have been off. Every time I ask him a question about himself, he deflects by asking one back. I caught a few of his games on TV, and in each, he looked weary—dark circles around his eyes, sluggish energy, averaging fewer points per game. I keep feeling like I should do more, so he knows I’m here for him.
He’s got to know. Right?
Damn, I miss him.
The private investigator still hasn’t caught a lead on my brother, which makes no sense. I had this month’s bake-off with my dad to keep me distracted, otherwise…hff.
