Page 26 of The Assist
Silence. They ignore me and keep whispering until finally Blair nods frantically and smiles. She takes her spot at the three-point line and then holds her hands out for the ball. I’m nervous and maybe a little pissed that I’m going to lose like a chump. There’s a big difference between letting someone barely eke out a victory over you and whatever the hell is going on right now.
I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I’m also a little turned on watching her strut around all dark hair and long legs in a tight little petite package. It’s all very confusing.
“You ready for your whole team to watch you lose to a girl?” she taunts as she dribbles twice and then dares to crossover to her left hand right in front of me. She’s goading me, trying to get me to make a move, and my hands tingle to oblige.
“Your win is going to be tainted in lies.”
“A win is a win.”
She steps closer, putting her right hip into me and keeping the ball on her left side. She’s surprisingly good with her weak hand. The long strands of her ponytail tickle my arm and chest as I put pressure on her side. The air between us shifts and maybe that was her plan all along because she doesn’t seem nearly as affected as I am. I wrap my left hand around her tiny waist, nudging her backward. I hadn’t planned on getting this handsy or aggressive, but she’s making it hard to remember this is a friendly game. A friendly game that I wanted her to fucking win.
“You smell good,” she says on a breathy whisper so quiet I’m sure no one else can hear.
The statement catches me off guard, but I manage to get out a weak thanks.
“I guess you aren’t used to your opponents noticing things like that.”
“If they did, they definitely wouldn’t say it.”
“They’re probably too busy trying to keep up with you to notice. You’re a really good ball handler. Some of the things you can do with the ball in your hands is just insane. Where’d you learn to do all that?”
“I, uh, well...” I clear my throat while I try to figure out how to respond to that, but it’s too fucking late. She pulls a spin move that wouldn’t fool a preschooler toward my bad foot and is off. I turn just in time to see her pull up and make another damn shot just under the basket. No block, no assist—all her. I lost to a fucking girl. A hot girl, but a girl none the less.
Z and Joel laugh their asses off, and the rest of the guys rush toward Blair. They have her up in the air on their shoulders before I can even hobble over and rebound the ball.
“You played me,” I yell to her over the noise. I doubt she can even hear me over the guys, but I don’t miss the triumphant smile plastered on her face and surprisingly I think my smile is almost as big . . . just not victorious.
9
Blair
After my victory,the guys take over the court for their own game, leaving me, and much to his obvious dismay, Wes, on the sidelines.
“Come on, we can finish studying in my room where my teammates can’t get in the damn way.”
If I were a better person, I’d let him off the hook tutoring me since I clearly had help beating him. But now that he started teaching me like one of the guys and shown me what a good tutor he is, I’m not about to pass up the opportunity.
Also, he’s hot. I mean I’m not shallow enough to only entertain the idea of hanging around hot guys, but when they’re hot and fun to be aroundandthey can help me get a better grade? Yeah, I’m grabbing the opportunity any way I can.
In his room, I pull out the Chewy Sprees tucked away in the side pocket of my backpack and reward myself with two. One for learning something and one for beating him.
He doesn’t bother grabbing the statistics book this time as he sits on his bed and winces as he props his foot up on a pillow.
“You all right?”
“Yeah, just gets sore if I don’t elevate it every few hours. You want to cover covariance next?”
“Sure.”
“All right, let’s do the definitions first and then we’ll go into scenarios.”
He fires off terms and I reply, parroting back the information I’ve read and memorized from the text.
At each nod from him, indicating I have the right answer, I pop another candy into my mouth.
He raises a brow. “I can’t remember the last time I saw someone eating Sprees.”
“Want one?”
