Page 61 of Shot Taker

“What was that about? The serious thing?”

“You’re mine. It’s obvious every second I’m touching you.”

“Wow, the arrogance never quits.”

“It’s the truth. I know it, and if it takes you a second to catch up because you need to trust me again or for some other reason, I’ll wait.”

My heart skips.

Last night, I figured he’d be thrilled with my proposal to keep things physical. His stubborn commitment to the idea of more was not in the plan.

“I believe you think you want that,” I say, “but really, you like pissing a circle around me and telling any other guys they can’t come near.”

“That’s not it.” His eyes dial up in intensity. “I want to talk like we used to. I want to take you out. Things click for me when I’m around you, and I think they do for you too.”

His words make me swallow. “I’m building my own life, my own independence.”

“I don’t want to take that from you. I liked you from the moment I met you. I like you even more now.”

Clay’s expression softens, and I feel myself weakening.

He shifts forward. “Come here.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re not going to negotiate our relationship on opposite sides of the room.”

Reluctantly, I step closer. He pulls me into his lap.

That’s not what we’re doing. But when I feel his warmth, I’m not so sure.

I want to trust him, but this time, I can’t be stupid about it.

“I don’t want anyone to know,” I say.

He shrugs a shoulder. “Brooke already knows. Plus a few guys on the team.”

“The team?!” My brows shoot up. “Well, I don’t want Mari or Harlan to know. Not yet.” Not because I’m ashamed, but because I’d have to admit to my sister exactly how things started with me and Clay and how distracted I was during the days and weeks leading up to her wedding.

I expect him to argue, but he looks relieved. “The guys will keep quiet. And it’s better if Harlan and James think I’m entirely focused on basketball.”

“Because you’re still planning on making the jump to LA.”

“Eventually. It’s taking longer than I figured.”

I try not to think too hard about that. When I first met him, Mari’s wedding was our expiry date. This new one looming over us is messier because neither of us knows when it might come.

Somehow, it makes me bolder.

“If we do this, I want to be exclusive,” I say.

Clay brushes the hair from my face, stroking his thumb down my cheek. “So, no more Kodashians?”

I shake my head, and he laughs.

“What’s so funny?” I demand.

“I haven’t touched another woman since I laid eyes on you, Pink.”

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