Teardrop Shot Read online
Page 11
It was big enough for just a single bed to fit in there. The door would have to be turned so it opened the other way, and that person would have to climb on and off the bed to get into the hallway, then walk past the ghosts, the laundry, the maintenance office, and up two flights of stairs before using the bathroom the campers on the first floor used. The only pro for that room was that it was in the main building, which meant it was closer to midnight snacking.
But let’s be honest.
Was I really feeling the impending need to find somewhere else to sleep? Not really.
The Thunder had practices and meetings and scrimmages over the next week, and I did my usual. I manned the gym, did breakfast prep, and did dishes for all the meals. More guys were bringing their trays up to the window now instead of making Owen go and get them from the table. Reese also came in and booted people out of the gym every night at midnight. Not that any guys were up there anyway, but every now and then, one might be doing late-night drills or just shooting the breeze. A few times one of the guys would take a phone call on the benches around the outdoor court. But it didn’t matter. Reese would declare the gym closed. No one argued with their captain.
Then we’d walk back to his cabin and start the routine we’d developed.
I’d go to my cabin and get clothes. He’d be cleaned up by the time I got back, just leaving the bathroom and shower as I got in. Then it’d be my turn.
After that we’d sit in the living area. If he took the couch, I took the extra chair. Or vice versa. We’d work on whatever or read or listen to whatever until one of us got tired and went to bed. Going to bed and falling asleep weren’t a hardship anymore.
I didn’t question why I could sleep so easily with him across the room from me. I was just grateful to be getting around five hours of sleep per night. Reese woke the first few times I got up at five, but after two days of that, he was able to sleep through or just roll over and fall back asleep.
He did argue with me about not getting enough sleep, but I insisted I was getting up at five on my own. That was a battlefront I would die on, because he didn’t know I was going to help Owen and Hadley with breakfast. He was already pissed at Keith about my cabin. I didn’t need to give him more ammunition, at least until after camp, because a part of me was wondering how much damage a pissed-off NBA player could do to Keith? If anyone could get something done about Dickhead Boss, I would put money on Reese. Which made me feel bad, because he was a camper. He shouldn’t have to worry about any of this. Nor should he have to put up with rooming with one of the staff because he was a decent human being.
“Why do you have a laptop if you never use it?”
Reese was lounging on the couch, wearing only shorts with rap blaring through headphones in his ears. No one was around at the gym, so he’d talked me into closing it early. And by talking me into it, I mean he took my keys and locked everything up, then stalked down the path to his cabin.
I hadn’t argued. It was nice to feel like I had a night off. It was only around ten o’clock.
Or at least it had been nice until he asked that question.
I shifted in my seat, my phone in hand. I was stalking Lucas, looking at his new girlfriend because the douchebag hadn’t wasted time. She was petite, with long brown hair and the largest almond eyes ever. She looked sweet.
I was tempted to slip into her DMs and see if Grandpa Newt had propositioned her, but I was resisting. Only one stalking target at a time. And I didn’t know what to say to Reese, so I kept quiet, pretending to thumb up my music on my phone.
He grunted, then swung up from the couch. Reaching over, he picked up my headphones…which weren’t plugged into my phone. Flinging them on my lap, he laid back down.
“If you don’t want to tell me, fine. But at least try to lie better. For all your crazy facade, you suck at actually being crazy.”
Oh. OH! Did he just challenge me?
I think not.
But as I was puffing up my chest, I knew he was right. I’d lost the will to be nuts. Even the random questions had stopped. I missed them.
“It’s a therapy assignment.”
I might’ve mumbled those words, my mouth tucked into the collar of my shirt. If he heard, he heard. If he didn’t, he didn’t. Just as long as he didn’t kick me out of his cabin, because his was so much better than mine.
The lack-of-smell alone was worth it.
“What?” His eyebrows rose, and he lifted his head, his hand splayed out on his chest—his very nice and defined and muscled chest that was lean, with that tattoo that I hadn’t yet brought myself to ask about because I couldn’t read it. But damn, I wanted to. It was hot.
“Nothing.” I tried to sink farther into the chair.
He wasn’t having it.
He swung his feet back up and scooted to the edge of the couch. He reached over and plucked my phone from my hands, holding it hostage. His eyes dared me to even try to get it back.
“What’d you say?” he asked.
I knew my place. Professional athlete, I was not. I remained in my seat and only lifted my feet up, scooting my knees against me and wrapping my arms around them. I propped my chin on top and watched him. “You heard me.”
He was giving me a new look. “You’re in therapy?”
“I was.” And damn. I just didn’t have the energy to lie anymore.
I held out my hand, palm up. “Come on.”
He gave me my phone back, but cautiously. “Why were you in therapy?”
“Because…” I took the phone, my hand wrapping around it, but I only brought it back to my lap. My knees remained up, like they were a shield.
My throat burned. Was I actually going to tell him some of this?
This felt weird—too fast, too…too exposed.
Shit. I was going to tell him.
I was crapping my pants as the words formed on my tongue. “I was in a relationship with someone for a long time, and it was…” The burning increased in my chest. I felt an impossible weight there. “It was a hard relationship.”
A lump formed in my throat.
Reese’s eyes narrowed. “Did he hit you?”
I couldn’t answer that. “It was—was he abusive? No. Did he hit me? Once, but it wasn’t a normal situation. I—” God. I couldn’t talk. I closed my eyes, pressed my forehead to the back of my knees, and inhaled. Once. And I counted.
5
4
3
2
1
Exhale. 5. 4. 3. 2. 1.
Inhale, and repeat.
It helped. Some of the pressure lifted, and I was able to look up again. I knew there were tears on my face, but for the life of me, I couldn’t wipe them away.
“Have you ever been involved in a situation where you felt like the other person needed you so they could live?” I asked. “But you couldn’t stay there because they were taking the oxygen you needed to breathe?”
A deep emotion shone from Reese—one I couldn’t name, but I felt the air switch. He leaned back against the couch and dropped his head.
“Yeah.” His voice was rough. “And it fucking sucks.”
He got it.
I didn’t even get it, but he got it.
I couldn’t say anything for a while after that. So I just sat. I cried. I hid behind my knees.
And Reese waited. Or something. I didn’t feel like he was waiting for me. He looked away, his eyes downcast. I had a feeling he was thinking about something else, or someone else.
“You know about my brother’s shit?” he asked after a minute. “Why we’re even here and not using our normal facilities?”
I nodded, looking up over the tops of my knees.
He still wasn’t looking at me. “He was like that for me. But he didn’t actually need me like that. He just made it seem like he did.” He turned now, his gaze raw, looking right into me. “Was it the same for you?”
I wanted to say yes. That would be an easier battle to tackle. I couldn’t, thoug
h.
“No. Not like that,” I whispered
His eyes closed for a second. “Shit.” A soft sigh. “I’m sorry for that.”
“Me too.”
The air was heavy. The room seemed to shrink around us.
Reese glanced around, and I felt a restless edge come from him. He checked his phone and scraped a hand over his jaw before standing.
“Come on.” He put on some socks and shoes. Grabbing a shirt, he picked up the basketball he always seemed to have close by.
“Where are we going?”
I hadn’t moved quickly enough. He tossed my shoes at the bottom of my chair, then took my phone and headphones out of my hands. He waited by the door as I pulled on my shoes.
“I need to turn my mind off, and I use two activities for that. We’re going with the second option.”
I wasn’t asking about the first, but I did ask, “Hoops?”
He nodded. “Hoops.”
The first night he’d been here flashed back to me, and I knew what the next couple hours were going to be like. I stood, and since it was a little chilly, I said, “I want to grab a sweatshirt from my cabin.”
He dropped my phone and headphones on the couch, moving past me to the bedroom. Coming back out, he thrust a sweatshirt at me. “Here.”
Picking up my phone and headphones again, he led the way out of the cabin.
We were heading down the trail when we passed a few of his teammates coming the other way.
I averted my gaze, pulling on his sweatshirt as he stopped.
“What’s up, Forster?”
“Not much. Heading back to shoot some hoops.”
I could feel their gazes.
Reese’s sweatshirt swamped me, but it smelled like him. A hint of sand and pine mixed together. Tugging his sleeves down, I balled them up and pretended to look at them.
“We bus out at ten, right?”
Reese nodded. “Yeah. Breakfast is at nine.”
That was news to me, though not the busing-out part. I knew they had another preseason game coming up.
Fists bumped between Reese and the others as they said their goodnights. We’d walked a few feet before someone murmured something, and the others began laughing.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I knew that laugh was about me.
“They think we’re fucking,” Reese commented.
I smothered a “WHAT?” and let out a strangled chuckle instead. “Yeah. No shit.” A second thought, “You think they’ll tell your coaches about me staying in your cabin?” Because I hadn’t said a word to the other staff. I didn’t want to hear any of the lectures I’d get. Plus I knew Keith would relish the chance to fire me.
“Nah. And to be honest, I don’t think the coaches would give a shit—as long as we show and do our jobs. And you’re not underage.” He laughed. “Juan told the guys about your cabin, but none of them are buying it. I figure it’s easier to let them think that than tell them truth. Is that okay with you?”
I looked up. “What’s the truth?”
He grinned, the look taking him from hot to HOT. “That you’ve become like an annoying gnat that I like for some reason.” He raised an eyebrow. “How’s that for the truth?”
Warmth flooded me. I could be a gnat.
We started forward again, and I kept his sleeves wrapped around my hands. “You could tell them the other truth.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“That I’m a stalker with polite boundaries.”
He groaned. “Stop with the stalking bullshit.” He swung, but his fist was more of a tap on my shoulder. It was a soft tap, one between friends.
Friends.
We’d become friends.
I was okay with that.
“I saw you last night.”
Aw, shiitake.
I had to give Grant some credit for waiting ten minutes after the bus left to approach me.
He had stared at me for a full minute before grabbing his tray and going through the line for breakfast. Didn’t take a genius to know something was up with him. Then once Owen handed him his omelet, he stared again for another thirty seconds through the main glass window.
A shiver had gone down my spine.
His eyes cut from me to Reese, who was eating with Juan, Lestroy, and Crusky.
For the most part, Reese and I acted like we didn’t know each other during the day. He brought up his dishes. He signed out a ball if they needed an extra, but that was the extent of our back-and-forth—at least in front of the staff. Owen, Hadley, and Grant were never around in the evenings. They were all long gone to their homes, done with their hours for the day, so it was really only Reese’s teammates who knew about the extra friendship between us.
Even if it was a gnat sort of friendship.
“Saw me doing what?” I countered.
Keith had already frolicked through the cafeteria, getting his usual coffee and having a “word” with the coaches. All the details had been ironed out, but he’d claimed he needed to know when they’d be back and if food needed to be prepared for them. We were nearing the end of their second week here.
“Something going on with you and Forster?”
Silence.
Hadley had been scraping the grill, but she stopped. Owen had been pulling the plate dispenser back over to me, but he stopped that too.
I let out a small sigh, reaching for a last bin to rinse. “What makes you say that?”
“Because it’s the third night in a row I saw you walking back to the village with him.”
There was nothing inappropriate about what we were doing. There was some gray area about me staying in his cabin, but nothing had happened. At all. But I felt some twinges of shame as previous accusations from Keith flared up in me.
I never did anything wrong back then either, but it never mattered. Keith always found some excuse to accuse me of something.
I waited a second before answering. Finishing the bin, I put it on the tray and loaded it into the machine, then turned to face Grant. He was in the doorway between me and the rest of the kitchen. Owen and Hadley were waiting behind him, both looking uncomfortable.
“What are you accusing me of?”
“Are you sleeping with him?”
Sophia had just entered the cafeteria, but she paused coming through the tables. There’s no way she could’ve heard Grant, but she must have sensed the awkwardness in the atmosphere. Her gaze was searching. She found Grant first and then me, looking right at her.
Her eyes narrowed as she approached. “Grant?”
He looked, but turned back to me. “I asked you a question, Charlie. Are you sleeping with him?”
“Grant!” She sounded horrified.
I wasn’t sleeping with him in the way he was asking, but saying no felt like I was hiding something. I didn’t want to hide. It felt wrong.
“Charlie!” A second hiss from him.
“No, okay?”
His head tilted to the side. “Why’d you take so long to answer?”
I opened my mouth.
Hadley beat me to it, pushing past him. “Because maybe she wants to sleep with him. How about that? And she can if she wants.”
Uh—what?
Little Hadley was all in his face, her two French braids bouncing from her energy.
“She’s not a full-time staff member, and none of us are kids now. I have three little ones of my own. And really, who could blame her?”
“It’s Reese Forster,” Owen added. “I mean, if I swung that way, I’d want to as well.”
That said a lot coming from Owen.
He adjusted his shoulder, rolling it back.
“You saw her walking with him back to the village. That’s the same path she takes to her cabin. So what? She’s allowed to talk to him.” Sophia with another defense.
Guilt bloomed in me.
All three of them had spoken up for me. Gah. I had to come clean. I liked them all too much.
“Okay! Fin
e. You all can stop defending me because I…kinda, but not really lied just now.” I squared my shoulders and shoved all the shame out of me, because I did not deserve it. “I’m not sleeping with him, but I am sleeping in his cabin.”
Hadley wheeled to me, her mouth open.
“Damn,” Owen breathed.
Sophia just blinked, looking shocked.
A flush was working up Grant’s neck. “You’re sleeping in his cabin?”
“He was waiting for me one night when I got back—just to talk. I don’t know why, to be honest. He likes me as a gnat—his words, not mine.” I held a hand up to halt anything incoming from them. “And it’s not romantic at all. He was in the fishing cabin and almost puked from the smell.” I gave Owen and Hadley an apologetic look. “You guys aired it out to the best you could, but the smell’s come back. He made me sleep in his cabin that night. He’s offered to demand that Keith find me somewhere else to sleep, but you all know he’ll just put me in the janitor’s closet downstairs. He doesn’t give a shit about health codes for staff. So yeah, I’ve been sleeping in his cabin, but that’s all. I swear.”
Hadley’s mouth had closed, and she rotated right back to Grant. “Happy now?” She looked over her shoulder to me. “And for the record, if I were you and I was single, I’d be sleeping with him by now.” She moved past Grant with a harrumph. “And no one would be making me feel guilty about it. We’re all too old for that.”
Owen found my eyes. “We have a guest room you can use, if you want.”
“That house is for you and your family. You can’t be offering that room up for staff every time it’s needed. That’s your home.”
“Offer’s open anytime you need it, and we don’t need to tell Keith either.” He gave Grant a meaningful look before leaving, following Hadley because the last of the dishes were done.
They went to his office, and I heard the door open a second later as they left. Staff had the rest of the day off.
Grant was still silent.
Sophia cleared her throat. “I think Grant knows my thoughts on Keith, and I have a feeling he knows I stand with Hadley’s thoughts on this matter as well.” She spoke to me, with her eyes on her fiancé’s back. “He’ll realize he had no right to accuse you the way he did. And it’s none of his business because you’re not under contract like we are, and again, nothing illegal is going on.”