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SIX

ELI

I’m standing in the middle of the basketball court, eyeing my setup. It’s not perfect, but it’ll do. My job today is to teach Becca the basics. Introduce her to the love of my life. That is, if she even shows up. I’m pretty sure Coach told her to get here at eight a.m., but it’s ten till and she still hasn’t arrived.

Doesn’t she know “on time” is late?

I kneel, smoothing the painter’s tape I put on the midcourt line. I spent all of Sunday figuring out my game plan, and I’m not sure it will work, but I figured visual representation and teaching her to play is better than her listening to me talk for hours on end.

The squeak of sneakers on the polished maple floor has me looking toward the noise. Becca struts in, bookbag slung over a shoulder, barely there shorts, and a skin-tight tee that says “FCU” across her tits.

Jesus.

At least she’s wearing better shoes today.

“Cutting it a little close, aren’t you?” I stand.

She glares and tosses her bag to the floor before stomping over. “It’s not even eight yet. I’ve got…” She grabs my wrist, peering at my watch. “Four minutes to spare.”

I jerk my arm back, my skin prickling from where her fingers wrapped around it. “I don’t need the attitude, Rebecca. I need you to take this seriously.”

She throws her hair into a ponytail, drawing my eyes to the smooth, pale expanse of her neck.

“Don’t call me Rebecca. Ugh, just when I think I can’t hate you more, you go and sound like my old man.”

“I don’t really give a damn if you like me.”

“You should.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because you’re stuck with me for the foreseeable future. It’d be a shame to make your life a livin’ hell while I’m here.” She smiles as if the thought pleases her.

“I’m pretty sure being around you is the definition of a living hell.”

“Then I’ll be sure to live up to my reputation,” she quips. “Can we just get today over with?”

I point to myself and grin. “I’m running this. Not you.”

Her lips purse as she eyes me up and down. “Hasn’t it been a few years since you could even play? I’m surprised you remember how to run anything.”

My smile drops, teeth gritting as my blood heats.

Fuck her.

I lean in close. I want to grip her feisty little throat. Feel her heartbeat quicken under my fingers while I lay out how this will go. My fists clench to quell the urge. “Let’s get one thing straight. Every single thing that happens when it comes to you and this court? I control it. You can run that fuckin’ mouth of yours all day long. It’ll only make your submission that much sweeter.” My voice drops. “You want this job, Becca? You better learn to play my way, baby girl.”

My gaze swings to her lips as they part.

“I ain’t your baby.”

“No?” I smirk. “That’s fine. I’ll settle for you being my bitch. ”

Her eyes flare, and satisfaction digs its way through my system, burrowing in my chest.

“Becca! Good, you’re here,” Coach interrupts.

I clear my throat, realizing how close we’re standing, my mouth a centimeter away from hers. I take two large steps back.

Becca’s eyes shutter, the heat dying as she looks toward him and smiles.

“Here and ready to learn, Coach.” She taps her head.

“Atta girl.” He stops next to me and surveys the court I’ve destroyed with painter’s tape. “Inventive. Looks like you’ve got this under control.” He faces Becca. “I got your class schedule, so after you’re done here, stop by my office and we can work out your hours.”

Becca bobs her head. Coach claps me on the back, walking away.

I sigh, turning to Becca. “How long do I get you for?”

She grabs a strand of hair from her ponytail and tugs. “I have class at ten thirty.”

“Okay.” I walk to the sideline, grabbing a ball. “Let’s start with what you know. See if you remember anything I taught you and Lee back in the day.” I grin as I dribble.

She guffaws. “Clearly, you don’t remember our childhood. The only thing you ever taught me is how big your head is, and how to successfully avoid basketball players.”

She’s wrong; I do remember. Out of all my sister’s friends, she was the one I enjoyed teasing the most. Even back then she was a loudmouth, and I found a sick sense of pleasure in figuring out the best ways to get her to shut the hell up. Plus, there’s just something about watching that blush spread from her neck to her hairline. My dribbling slows as I think about what it would take to make that happen now.

“If I recall, your perky freshman face was at plenty of games and after-parties, hanging off a player or two.”

While Lee was never one to go to a party—at least while I was still in town—Becca was at every one, front and center. I rarely went to any, too scared to piss off my dad and too invested in making ball my life. But the rumors grew rampant around school, and the locker-room talk wasn’t exactly quiet. In the short time of our shared tenure at Sugarlake High, she made quite the name for herself.

The slutty preacher’s girl, wild and unruly.

I’m sure her folks are so proud .

That thought gives me pause, stopping my judgment in its tracks. It never crossed my mind to consider what she may have gone through at home because of her reputation. If it’s anything like what I feel with Pops, I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Failing to live up to people’s expectations leaves a hell of a bruise.

I dribble between my legs, seeing her in a new light.

She waves me off. “That’s beside the point. Those boys served a purpose and that’s all they were good for. Kinda like you.”

My brows lift, a smile teasing my lips. “What purpose do I serve?”

“Teachin’ me the ‘love of the game.’ After that, I’ll toss you to the side just like the rest of ’em.”

I chuckle at the fact she thinks I’ll need to be tossed. Like I would give her that kind of power.

“Okay, well this ”—I hold the basketball in the air—“is a bas-ket-ball.”

She widens her eyes. “Wow. That’s amazin’.”

“It is.” I nod. “Just wait until you learn about shooting.”

“Like a pistol?” she gasps, throwing a hand to her heart.

“Bingo, little lady.” I make a finger gun, pointing it at her.

She snorts. “You’re ridiculous. Can we be serious? I need this job, Eli.”

I stifle a grin. “I’ve been serious. It’s you who needs to be ready.”

She nods, walking closer. “I’m ready, Big Head. I hear you’re the best to learn from. Besides, you know what they say.”

Our eyes lock.

If she can keep things civil like they have been for the past couple minutes, we’ll get through this just fine.

“What do they say?” I ask.

“Those who can’t do…teach.” She winks, swiping the ball from my hands and sauntering to the basket.

Bitch.