Hard to break, p.8
Hard to Break, page 8
I shake my head. It never bothered me before, so I never thought about it much.
Except that if it happened today, I have no idea what I’d do.
I mean, I’d pack a bag and get on a plane because that’s what you have to do.
But what about Brooke? Would she go with me? Could I even ask her?
It feels like our weekend in New York brought us closer together, but I don’t think we’re at “please move across the country with me” status yet.
There’ve been a couple of big moves across the league so far but nothing involving the Kodiaks.
Could be indicative of the final shakedown, or it could be the calm before the storm.
James warning echoes in my head.
Half an hour.
The minutes slip away as we get ready for shootaround.
Out on the court, fans trickle in as Dallas warms up at the other end.
Assistant trainers feed us balls, and we take turns shooting layups and threes. Each time one swishes through the hoop, it eases the tension in my gut a little, but when I glance up toward the spot where Harlan and James sit, neither is there. Probably in their offices on the phone, deciding all our fates.
There’s no time to dwell on it. Not when we have a game to focus on that’s going to shape what kind of team anyone who’s staying will come home to.
“All-star break is over,” Coach says when we’re all back in the locker room doing final prep. “Back to work, only double the intensity. This is what you train your entire lives for. Make it happen.”
Dallas is above us in the standings, and we’re on the hunt for a playoff spot. We need to claw our way back into a strong position.
The top six teams are guaranteed a spot in playoffs. Seven and eight have to play their way in against stronger opponents. While on paper we’d have a shot at seven or eight, we need to be six or better.
“We’ve got this,” Jay says, leveling his gaze at me. “Kodiaks on three.”
The team puts in their hands. After our cheer, we file out of the locker room.
I call for Jay on the way out to the court, and he hangs back.
“How’re you feeling?”
“Good. Normal,” I say and almost mean it.
“I’d understand if you weren’t. Ketamine can fuck you up.”
I nod. “I don’t want to go there again.”
He eyes me a long time before clapping a hand on my shoulder. “No shit.”
Maybe Clay has it right avoiding alcohol during the season. From here on out, things are going to be better. I’ll be a model athlete.
We head out side by side for the player announcements.
When the crowd goes crazy for us, adrenaline surges through me and blanks out everything else. I look up to the box to see Brooke and Nova, plus Sierra. Chloe’s absent—probably with Harlan and James.
Brooke’s laughing with her friends, and when her gaze finds mine, she tilts her chin at me.
My heart pounds harder.
She’s here for me.
I’ve had women come mainly to watch me play. Hell, judging from the fans wearing my jerseys, it’s a regular occurrence.
But I’d trade a thousand fans for one.
For her.
We’re playing an afternoon game, and Brooke said she has to drop in on a dinner her mom’s having, so I won’t catch her until later.
But looking at my girl fuels me.
The rush of feelings from New York come back.
I meant it when I said I’d do anything for her. When we talked about our dreams, I could picture her there with me. I’ve never wanted anything so badly.
I love her, and I’m going to tell her.
Tonight.
Whether it’s her presence or being back on home court, the first quarter is the best I’ve felt in weeks. With Atlas back, I can combine my new game with my old one—showing up around the perimeter for a three, cutting into the paint when the opportunity presents itself.
Second quarter is tough, but we sneak into halftime still in the lead.
The clock expires on the trade deadline, and the guys high-five and fist-bump down the bench.
“Still here,” Jay calls.
The starters all look at one another. “Still here.”
Clay straightens, unzipping his warmup jacket. “Let’s send Dallas back home with claw marks.”
Cheers go up.
No one can stop this team. We’re a family. A unit.
Third and fourth quarters are gritty, but Jay’s moving the ball with extra pop. I’m back to pre-all-star form. Clay fills in gaps in his MVP form. Atlas is big at the net, and even Rookie finds spots to shine.
We get the win, and we’re pumped.
“Fuck yeah. Playoffs, here we come!” Jay hollers, wrapping an arm around my neck.
After, when I get back to the locker room, Chloe’s by the door.
“We got the win, Chlo. Look happier,” Jay says as he breezes toward her.
She turns her attention to me but grips her iPad tighter. “Miles. We need a word.” Jay starts to head into the locker room, but Chloe holds up a slim arm to bar his entrance. “Only Garrett.”
“The fuck is going on?” Jay looks between us.
She nods toward the locker room.
When I get into the room, I pull up. Harlan and James are standing by my locker. Security is with them.
“There something you want to tell us?” Harlan asks.
I look between them. “What?” The adrenaline from the game is still pounding in my veins.
“We found drugs in your locker.”
11
BROOKE
The Kodiaks’s win was electric. They needed it, and the entire town is buzzing.
By the time it’s over, the last thing I want to do is stop by a public event for my mom, but it’s too late to back out.
Plus, I have work to do.
I took an Uber across town, pausing when I got out at the bus stop featuring a full-height poster of the team. Miles is right next to Clay wearing a shit-eating grin.
I blow poster Miles a kiss.
The dinner is at a restaurant, held in a private room. A couple dozen supporters are here to network and cut checks. At this point in the campaign, my mom’s track record is important, but exposure matters more, and donations help get her name out.
“Brooke, how lovely to see you.” One of mom’s donors smiles from next to bar, a glass of champagne in her hand. “How have you been?”
I get a glass of wine and we catch up for a few minutes. She tells me about her daughters, both in school and trying to decide what they want to be. She’s starting a program to grow scholarships for women in business.
“Kevin,” she says after, her gaze flicking past me.
I try not to inhale is cologne as I turn to find him next to me.
“Ladies.” His suit is perfectly pressed, his teeth flashing white. It’s like someone popped him brand new out of a protective box outside the restaurant and sent him inside.
“I hear congratulations are in order,” the woman continues.
“Thank you. The merger isn’t a done deal, but my father’s been working on it for years.”
“I meant your engagement. How is Caroline?” the other donor asks.
Kevin smiles. “Busy.”
The answer takes me by surprise. Not “we broke up,” no “unfortunately the engagement is off.”
I cock my head. “Busy? Doing what?”
He doesn’t miss a beat. “Philanthropy mostly. She’s very involved.”
The woman gets pulled away and I lower my voice. “So, you’re split, but you haven’t told anyone?”
Kevin frowns. “We’re not advertising it.”
I’m used to everyone hiding things, but this is next level. “You could have just stayed engaged.”
“Hardly.” He sighs. “You have any idea how dull it is to be around someone who wants to give you exactly what you want?”
He’s unbelievable. “Do your parents not keep you busy enough at the firm that you have to keep tabs on my boyfriend and me?”
He leans a shoulder against the wall, looking past me. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You came at Miles at the Kodiaks’ arena. He doesn’t owe you anything. You both acted like assholes in college as far as I’m concerned.”
“But he’s the idiot you want to be with?” He grins, the smile I used to find charming.
“It sounds like you have a family merger you should be focused on.” I lift my glass to my lips and take a long sip. Then two more.
“You’re right,” he says after a moment. “I shouldn’t have confronted Garrett. I was bitter and I wanted to prove something to myself. After what happened in college, it took a long time to earn my family’s trust back. We handled it internally, but I promise that I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about it. And I’m sorry for the pain I’ve caused you.”
I nearly choke on the wine. “You’re sorry,” I echo.
“Yes. But Brooke, let me tell you something.” He leans in, urgency written across his smooth features. “If you’re smart—and I know you are—you won’t cast your lot in with him. He might act like he cares, but you’ll be the one left picking up the pieces.”
There’s soft music streaming from a speaker in the corner of the room. I let a few bars of it wash over me before I respond.
“Your problem, Kevin, is that you don’t know how to lose. You take it out on everyone else. Me, when I outed you for your lies. Miles, who tried to hold you accountable. Caroline, who only ever had your back. I honestly hope there’s a point at which you’ll feel better.”
Showing desperation is always a bad idea, but it slips out before I can stop it.
Kevin cocks his head, a shadow flickering across his eyes. It’s a response to my vulnerability, or maybe a trick of the light. “Me too.”
He brushes his cold lips over my cheek before I can jerk away, then moves past me toward the dinner.
By the time I catch a ride from the dinner, I want to take a scalding hot bath and curl up with Miles on the couch with a TV show and popcorn. We’ve started watching K-dramas. I love the twisty plots and Miles is fascinated by the families and unlikely friend groups.
I’ve texted Miles more than once, but there’s been no answer.
Weird. It’s after ten, and media for the afternoon game should’ve wrapped hours ago.
I head up to the condo and grab Waffles, who’s impatiently whining to go out for a walk.
I call my brother from the sidewalk, the Frenchie sniffing desperately around a fire hydrant.
“Jay,” I say when he answers on the fourth ring. “I can’t get hold of Miles. Have you seen him?”
“He’s with management.” His voice sounds wrong.
“Are they still upset about his apology? I told him that wouldn’t work—”
“They found cocaine in his locker.”
My heart plummets. “What?”
He repeats his statement.
A gust of cold wind blows through my coat, but I barely feel it.
“How could this happen?”
“I don’t know, Brooke.”
Waffles tugs me half a block, happily oblivious. I stumble along the sidewalk after him.
“He’s a professional athlete. He’s serious about his career, he wouldn’t do that,” I say.
There’s a pause long enough I glance at my phone to see that the call is still connected.
“He is serious, but he can’t say he’s never done it.”
The words land deep in my ribs, scratching like a thorn.
“What? When?”
Jay sighs. “A long time ago. Before he got drafted.”
I process that. It’s not wild that a kid would experiment a little, but it bothers me that he never mentioned it, especially given the issues I had with Kevin back in college, the role that drugs played.
“If Miles was taking anything now, I would know,” I insist.
Wouldn’t I?
There’s a flicker of doubt, a question mark that makes me hate myself before I brush it aside.
Yes. Absolutely.
Waffles does his business, and I switch into cleanup mode.
“This will blow over,” I say as I finish, tossing the bag in a nearby trashcan and heading back toward the condo building. “They’ll drug test him. He’ll be clean. It will be obvious it wasn’t his.”
“And someone put drugs in his locker by mistake?”
The possibility sounds ridiculous, but there aren’t a lot of options.
“Or it was planted.”
“Who would do that?”
“A second-string player envious of the amount of time and attention he’s suddenly getting? Someone who has it in for the Kodiaks?” I counter.
The concierge holds the doors as I step inside.
“Easy, tiger. You’re starting to sound like mom.”
I bristle. “What are you saying?”
“Just that once is a coincidence but twice is harder to believe.” He pauses. “Miles is my friend and I don’t like talking behind his back. But, he has been having a career defining year. Maybe the pressure is getting to him.”
Incredulity rises like steam in my throat. My heels and Waffles’s nails click on the marble floors as we head for the elevator.
“I think you’re still not happy about the two of us together and you’re looking for problems where there aren’t any.” I step inside and stab a button.
He curses. “That’s not it, Brooke. You know how I know? Because I should be worried for him and the team, and I am, but I’m more worried for you.”
The words set me back. “Me? Why?”
“Because I don’t want you dragged down by this. Because you’ve been dragged down by assholes before. Because…” He swallows. “Faceless people say shit about you that’s wrong and cruel and unfair, and I see how much it hurts you.”
My breathing slows as I fixate on the person in the mirror.
I appreciate that he noticed. It’s bittersweet, because I wish he’d said something to me years ago to let on that he saw.
“Miles isn’t an asshole,” I say finally. Waffles snorts in agreement.
“I know, but you being together is making your life harder, and you deserve better.”
The elevator dings, announcing our floor.
I say a tense goodbye to my brother and start down the hall.
I open the condo door, not fully aware of my own reaction until I see Waffles is blurred and fuzzy through my tears.
That’s when a notification pings on my phone.
The news got leaked to the press.
People are commenting on the post of the two of us, speculating that dating me had something to do with Miles’s recent troubles.
What if I have?
My ribs hurt with the dull ache of betrayal and loneliness that’s as familiar as it is painful.
Waffles snuffs at my ankles, and I lift him into my arms as I kick off my shoes and head for the couch.
MILES
“Princess?” I drop my gear beside the front door and look around the condo.
It’s late, or early depending on how you think about it.
The game feels like a thousand years ago. Since then, I’ve been dragged over the coals by management, interrogated by lawyers, and I’ve seen way too much of my agent’s bleary face after he got dragged out of bed to come down to the stadium.
“What do you mean you found drugs in my locker?”
We’re back in the conference room. This time, there are lawyers.
Harlan and James are on the same side of the table.
There’s no Jay.
“A team member was putting gear in everyone’s lockers and saw a suspicious substance.”
“There was nothing in my locker. My keys. My phone.”
James doesn’t look persuaded. “When you got into a fistfight, we backed you. Then there was the incident after the all-star game—”
“Nothing happened.” I say it for the millionth time.
“This is a new level of problem.” Harlan’s the reasonable one of the two of them, and the fact that he’s not on my side anymore is sobering. “I understand that you’ve flown high this year, and that kind of change has a tendency to impact a person. Aside from the fact that you’re violating multiple team rules, the police could charge you with possession. That would drag us into the media, which is bad for everyone.”
“Surely we can deal with it internally.” This is from James.
“There’s nothing to deal with. Whatever you found, it’s not mine,” I insist.
“So, what did happen?” Harlan asks.
They stare me down, the Kodiaks’ attorneys silently flanking them.
As far as the team goes, I haven’t had a second to talk to any of them, but I hope to hell they have my back in this. I hate wondering what they might be thinking.
I didn’t get to see the texts from my girl until way too late. At that point, I wanted to see her more than I wanted to correspond through impersonal texts.
Now, I call her name again into the empty condo.
Brooke emerges from the direction of the bedrooms.
Seeing her is a relief, soothing my stress.
“Jay told me.” Her hands find my arms. Her bright-pink nails should be cheerful, but they can’t erase the pit in my stomach. “I’m sorry.”
Everything crashes into me at once. “It wasn’t mine. Someone put it there.”
“I believe you.” Her dark eyes are intent on mine. “But you have used. In the past.”
My chest tightens. This isn’t how I wanted to tell her. This isn’t how I wanted any of this to be.
“It was a long time ago,” I say. “My Grams was having a hard time, my parents had split. It was a mistake and I didn’t know better. I do now.”
Brooke releases me and steps back.
I don’t want her to look at me like that, but my mind has been spinning since management turned up coke in my locker.
“If it wasn’t you, then there’s a way to frame this until they get to the truth,” she says. “The pressure of being the number-one option on a team can get to a person.”
