Page 63 of Game Changer

I click it and find the drawing she started. It sucks the air from my chest. She finished the one of me on the bench. There’s skill in every stroke, but there’s knowing, too.

Nova’s been living rent free in my head ever since the barbeque.

The way she opened up for me, the way she hummed when my lips stroked her skin, it only made me want more.

“Clay.”

I look up to see my therapist hovering in the doorway.

“You’re right on time.”

I follow him inside. A few minutes later, I’m taking up half of his couch, and he’s perched in his chair.

“Good to see you. It’s been a little while.”

“Someone reminded me talking can help.”

If I’m going to spend any more time around Nova, I can’t shut her out like I did after the game.

And I do want to spend time around her. With all that’s going on, I’ve decided not to look too hard at the reasons.

She’s here for her sister. And me, I’ve got shit to figure out. My career comes first, but I can’t kick the idea that there could be more to me than basketball.

“How was the game?” he asks.

“It was a win.”

“But?”

I tug on the cord in my hoodie and clench my jaw, searching for the words to explain the team's stagnation. “It's not enough. This team has a ceiling, but nobody will admit it.”

“Maybe they just need someone to get them going, something to focus on,” he says.

I shake my head. “You either have what it takes to beat the best or you don't. We don't.”

He crosses one ankle over his knee and looks at me calmly. “Maybe you think you don't have it in you to lead because you've never tried.”

My heart starts to race. I can never be a leader. Being responsible for every move of an entire franchise would be too much for me to bear with a knee that still twinges with pain at the wrong movement.

I put enough expectations on myself to be the best for myself, for my career and my fans, my agent, and all the people who’ve gotten me where I am.

“You don't understand—I have to leave," I say, turning away from him and pacing around the room.

“Then why don't you?”

I stop pacing and face him, meeting his eye contact with a determined stare of my own. “I'm working on it."

The clock on the wall ticks loudly.

“Once you’re in LA and you’ve won a championship, what then?”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“You’re already one of the best. Everyone agrees to it. You’d need something else to fight for.”

I press the heels of my hands against my eyes. “You sound like someone else I know.”

“Speaking of, how is your sister?”

---