Page 13 of Game Changer

I dribble around Jay to find Atlas, our center and the biggest guy on our roster, on the other side.

“You wanna take me?” I ask.

His half-hearted defense makes me smirk as I dodge around him, hitting a point-blank layup before the whistle sounds.

“Wade!” Coach barks. “We got a week until preseason. How many men you see on this court?”

“Coach, you know Clay dropped math in college.” Miles laughs, fist-bumping me.

“The game isn’t one-on-one. I know you’ve been injured half a season, but now that you’re back, they’ll be sending bodies at you. Get Rookie involved.”

We set up to run it again.

Seeing the guys again after a couple months feels good. The advantage of being a senior member of the team is skipping training camp. They trust you to prep your game and be ready to work when you land.

Literally.

I got off the plane and just had time to drop my bags at my place before driving to practice.

An interesting flight it was, too—

“Clay!” Miles shouts as he passes to me, nearly taking off my head.

I react in time and catch the ball, lob it across to Rookie, then cut behind the guy covering him. Rookie sends it back to me for a dunk.

Hollers go up from around the court.

But this time, when I land, my knee twinges.

I grit my teeth to hide my response to the pain.

Coach blows his whistle before anyone notices.

At first, I think he’s going to let us go, but then I spot the figure approaching from the bleachers.

I straighten, palming the ball as I take in the familiar form.

“Gather 'round,” Harlan calls.

I shake my head before turning to our new GM.

“There’s no mincing words. It’s my first full season here, and I want to win a championship,” Harlan says.

“You’ve got a ring already,” Jayden jokes.

The guys laugh.

“There’s a reason we’re having the wedding before opening day. This team is my priority for this year. Basketball is a family. It’s easy to put your own wants ahead of others, but at the end of the day, we need other people in order to succeed.”

Bullshit.

I turn and grab the black bag with my phone and personal shit on my way toward the tunnel.

“Clay!” Jay calls.

I pretend not to hear him.

It’s fake. Every word from Harlan’s mouth.

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