Page 27 of Half-Court Heat
“Oh, Lex.” Eva frowned. “I haven’t been a very good girlfriend.”
“This has nothing to do with being good or bad,” I promised.
“But,” Eva guessed again.
I sheepishly grinned. “But …you’ve been paying more attention to your phone than me. You’re so focused on building your brand, so busy looking for the next opportunity, that you’re not enjoying what you’ve already accomplished. I know you’re all about that grind, all about the hustle,” I observed, “but maybe you could slow down just a little.”
“This is uncharted territory,” she admitted. “No athlete who looks like me has been able to capitalize on their celebrity like this. Not this early in their career.”
“I know.” It was the excuse that both she and I defaulted to. “But when will it be enough?”
Chapter
Nine
The remainder of dinner was strained. Eva had put her phone away, but the damage had already been done. Dessert was wrapped up in To Go boxes rather than enjoyed at the restaurant, with both of us claiming to be full.
The town car I’d reserved for the evening drove us back to the condo. The doorman at Eva’s building opened the car door and called the elevator.
Eva stored the desserts in the refrigerator and we wordlessly concluded the night to be over. I hung up my suit and changed into a T-shirt and sleep shorts. Eva did the same with her dress and retreated to the en-suite bathroom to scrub off her makeup.
We brushed our teeth, side by side, in front of the double sinks in the bathroom. The quiet between us wasn’t tense, but it wasn’t peaceful either. We each had our corners of the mirror. My arm occasionally bumped hers when I spit into the sink. She rinsed twice. I rinsed once. Small differences, weird rhythms. We’d been living together long enough to be in sync, but on that particular evening, the silence had edges.
Eva wiped her mouth with a hand towel and leaned against the counter. I was still rinsing out my toothbrush when she said it.
“Veronica thinks we should start a podcast.”
I blinked at her reflection in the mirror. “A what?”
“A podcast,” she said again, casual, like it was something we’d already talked about.
I turned to look at her fully. “Seriously?”
“Interest in the league has never been higher,” she noted with a shrug. “She thinks we could be the face of it. As a couple.”
I stared. “A podcast.”
“She wants to call it something likeCourt ChemistryorOff the Glass. I don’t know.”
I let out a dry, incredulous laugh. “You hated the idea of going public less than a month ago.”
Eva straightened against the counter, her posture becoming defensive. “I didn’t want our relationship to distract from who we are as players. I wanted to prove myself first. But now … I don’t know. I think we’ve become something people want to root for.”
Something about her words made my stomach twist. I wasn’t sure how to explain it—this sudden, quiet feeling that I was the second bullet point in her highlight reel. A supporting character.
“It would give us something to do during the off-season,” she added, softer. “Together.”
I reached for the mouthwash and swished aggressively, trying to buy myself a moment to think. Eva had been the one who’d initially rejected Coming Out. She’d insisted on being known for her game first—not her dating life, and definitely not her dating a teammate. Now it was me hesitating, balking at the idea of turning our relationship into content.
I spit out the mouthwash and wiped my mouth. “I’ll think about it,” I said finally.
In truth, I had absolutely no interest in doing a podcast, but I didn’t want to start another fight.
Eva became quiet as she worried her bottom lip. “I’m messing this up, aren’t I?”
I glanced at her. She looked tired in a way that had nothing to do with the time of night. Her makeup had been washed off, and her braids were piled in a tight bun on top of her head. Even like this—especially like this—she was beautiful. And still, I felt a sharp ache behind my ribs.
“It’s not about messing up,” I said carefully. “I just wish things could slow down for five seconds. That’s all.”
