Page 22

TWENTY-TWO

ELI

It’s conference tournament time, which means March Madness is right around the corner and the regular season is almost over. I had forgotten how quickly time goes when you’re submerged in everything basketball. I’m finally starting to feel like I’m slotting a place in the hearts and the minds of these players. These halls. This court.

Rebecca.

She hates it when I call her that, so I do it as often as I can. I love drawing that little bit of extra attitude, so I can fuck it out of her when she sneaks to my house at night. It’s been five months since we gave in to the energy pulling us together, and even though we’re “keeping things casual,” it feels anything but.

In two months, everything changes. She graduates. There won’t be a need for us to lurk in darkened locker rooms and hide behind closed doors. No reason for more pieces of my heart to chip every time she ditches our plans to hang with her friends. No more feeling like an absolute piece of shit when my baby sister calls and Becca answers, her eyes dimming while she avoids mentioning my name.

I want everything with her. The laughter and tears, the yelling and the make-up sex. I want to go to bed with her every night and wake up tangled in fiery curls each morning. I want her cheering at my games and telling me how proud she is with each win. I just have to make sure that’s something she wants, too.

I think she does.

She stirs in bed next to me, throwing an arm and a leg over my body. I’ve never been a “girlfriend” kind of guy before. No need when basketball was my job, my wife, and my mistress all wrapped up in one. But lying here with Becca wrapped in my arms, I can’t help thinking I would have picked her over everything, even back then.

I grasp her hand, lightly tracing her fingers with mine, wondering what Ma would think of us being together if she were still around. The last conversation we had was her wishing for me to find a nice girl and settle down. Come home. My stomach churns as the phone call plays in my head, and my arms squeeze Becca on reflex.

She wakes, blinking at me. I brush the hair out of her face, letting my fingers trail down her cheek. The softness in her eyes dulls the ache of Ma’s memory.

“Hi.” She smiles.

“Morning, baby girl.” I peck her lips. She kisses me back but breaks it off quick, grabbing the sheet and bringing it to cover the lower half of her face.

“Eli, you know mornin’ breath is a hard limit for me. Why do you insist on startin’ the day off this way?”

I grin. “Are you insinuating that I smell ?”

“You stink and you know it.” Her eyes crinkle.

“Take it back.”

“I can’t. That would make me a liar.”

She tries to scoot back, but my arm shoots out, wrapping around her waist and anchoring her to me.

“Take. It. Back.”

She stares into my eyes and slowly lowers the sheet. “No,” she whispers.

I sigh. “Then you leave me no choice.”

My arm tightens on her waist, my other hand rising to her side, fingers digging in deep as I attack. One of the things I’ve learned while discovering every inch of Becca’s body is she’s extremely ticklish.

She screams, throwing her head back and laughing, her body wiggling against mine, trying to break free.

“Eli! Sto—stop it…ple—please!” she chokes out between giggles.

The smile threatens to crack my face as I slow down my torture. She collapses against the mattress, her body worn-out from fighting my fingers. She’s panting, her chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath.

I’m hovering, my eyes perusing every inch of her. She’s so damn beautiful. So perfect here in my bed, wearing nothing but my shirt.

Her laughter dies down. She cups my jaw, her fingers scratching against my stubble. “What ya thinkin’ about so hard up there, handsome?”

“You.”

“What about me?”

How much I love you. “How much I wish I could take you out. Show you off.”

Her smile dims.

“Once you graduate, that won’t be an issue,” I continue.

She nods. “We can go wherever we want.”

“Yeah, I know.” I steal another kiss before she can turn, and she shrieks, pushing me away and hopping out of bed. I chuckle, leaning against my headboard, watching as she walks to the bathroom.

Her phone rings on the nightstand.

“Who is it?” she hollers.

I pick it up and look at the screen.

“It’s your mom.” I grimace, setting her phone back on the table. I already know she’s not going to answer it.

Becca stomps back into the room, grabbing her phone and silencing the ringer before plopping in bed, staring at me.

I raise a brow. “What?”

She crosses her arms. “Are you just gonna sit there or will you go brush your teeth so I can kiss you the way I want?”

I lean forward, gripping the nape of her neck and drawing her to me, fusing our mouths together. She gives in, her body relaxing as she melds her lips to mine. My hands frame her face and I pull away to look at her. Happiness climbs through my chest, expanding until I feel like I might burst. I trail my lips down to her collarbone and kiss along the necklace I bought her for Christmas. It’s simple. A platinum basketball charm with #1 Player engraved on the back. I bought it on a whim and almost didn’t go through with it, afraid she would laugh in my face. But she hasn’t taken it off even once since I put it on her.

My mind wanders back to Ma. For some reason, she’s on my mind a lot lately—not that she ever really leaves. Her memory is a constant twinge, a broken bone that never reset. But I don’t like to dwell on the pain.

I don’t realize I’ve paused in my ministrations until Becca pushes me back and I’m lying down again. She cuddles into my side. “What’s wrong, Big Head?”

I blow out a breath. “Just thinking about Ma.”

Her body tenses against mine. Even with as much as I feel for Becca, I’m surprised I said that without a second thought. I’ve never talked to anyone about Ma. But Becca was there. She grew up with her. She lost her, too.

Her fingers trace random shapes on my chest, the touch making the hair on my arms stand on end.

“I miss her.” She sighs.

My stomach clenches. “Me too.”

“She always had the best advice. When my momma was too busy makin’ sure our family looked picture-perfect, yours was there to wipe my tears and teach me all about becomin’ a woman. She always made me feel like I was somethin’ special.”

I swallow around the sudden lump in my throat. “I talked to her that day. Did you know that?”

Becca’s head tilts, her glassy eyes searing into mine.

“Her and Pops were driving back from Chattanooga, trying to make it home to some show of Lee’s. Pops called to talk about my game, but Ma took over, like she was prone to do. Started preaching about finding a nice girl, settling down. One who would look past the basketball star and see the real me.” I chuckle, shaking my head. “She was always so worried about ‘my lonely heart.’ Was dead set on me finding a girl who’d convince me to come back home…pop out a couple of kids.”

Becca doesn’t speak, just continues to run her fingers against my skin.

“‘Find yourself a true beauty,’ she told me. ‘One whose soul shines so bright even the sun can’t compare.’” I close my eyes, the regret sluicing through my veins. “I rushed her off the phone. I was sick of hearin’ her talk about it. I don’t—” My voice breaks, and I clear my throat, inhaling deep before trying again. “I don’t even think I told her I loved her.”

“Eli…” Becca whispers.

“If I would have known it was the last time I’d ever hear her voice…” I shake my head. Reaching my hand down, I grip Becca’s fingers tight against my chest, the stitching of my tattered soul pulling at the seams.

Becca doesn’t say anything, but she doesn’t have to. Just her presence is a comfort I never knew I was missing. After a few minutes, she reaches up, pecking my lips and grinning.

I bask in her glow.

She blinds me to the sun.

Two more months, and everything will change.