Page 76 of Shot Taker

He catches up to me outside the front doors, his trainers getting wet in the snow. I look up at him, not hiding the tears burning my eyes.

“It’s not what you think.”

“How do you know what I think?” I take a shaky breath.

“Let me explain.”

“That you made some kind of a bargain with Harlan that involved my feelings and your career?”

His throat works, his expression a tight mask of misery and hurt. “I told you I panicked that night, about us. That was true.”

“So, you went over my head and decided we were done without consulting me.”

“When you put it like that, it sounds bad.”

My eyes widen. “It took me putting it like that to make it sound bad?!”

Clay rubs his hands over his face. “I’m sorry.”

The next breath is painful. I wanted to tell him I was ready to go public, and now everything we had feels like it was built on a lie. I finally felt as if we were on even ground but he was treating me like a child this entire time.

“Me too.”

I shut my eyes briefly, as if that can block out the emotions raging through me, but when I open them, all the hurt and disappointment and anger are right there bubbling at the surface.

“You think you know better than everyone. On the court and off it. But you don’t get to decide what’s best, Clay.”

He reaches for me as though it’s the most natural thing in the world, as though it’s his right to touch me and he can fix everything if we’re closer.

Part of me wants that too, which is why I force myself to step back.

His hands fall back to his sides, his dark eyes bright with anguish as he wrestles with his control.

“I didn’t expect to see you before I left on this road trip. I don’t want to waste it. Let me take you out tonight. We can talk about this.”

Yes.

I hate having barriers between me and the people I care about.

That’s how all of this started, wanting to be on good terms with my sister.

But…

That’s my old pattern. I don’t want to cave, to be the one who bends simply because I’m better at it. I want to stand up for myself.

“It sounds like you’ve been doing enough talking for both of us,” I say and start toward the street.

This time, he doesn’t come after me.

18

NOVA

“Nova.”

I turn to see James Parker standing behind me in a sport coat and jeans, his lean face tight.

I pull off my headphones. “Hi.”

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