Page 35

Wild

During my rookie year, I despaired over not having a game winner. When the score is even and time is running out, the inexperienced will panic and let the game slip away. After a terrible loss where I crammed a lifetime of mistakes into one game, Coach Billy told me this: with experience, the game will slow down for you, and the panic will disappear.

Fast forward fifteen years, and it's an even game, and we have the last possession, and my heart is rattling around like it's struggling to escape out of its cage. But it's not the game that’s making me lose my mind.

Far from it.

The ball fits my palm like a glove. I take one dribble, take a step back and release. Swish.

Sweaty, muscled bodies swamp me in celebration. The arena explodes, not with boos, but with chants. The fans chant my name.

Surreal.

Game attendance has skyrocketed, we're winning far more than we're losing, and we've been playing with more fluidity ever since the 'swear jar' game.

And we have the fans on our side.

I joke through the post-game interview, then hurry through the halls to the parking lot.

It's in the parking lot, with the noise from the arena receding, that I call myself out. I'm a liar.

If I can make you fall half as in love with me as I am with you, it will be more than enough for me.

I want everything. Not half. Not three quarters. Everything.

I'm leaning against the car, staring at nothing, when clicking heels penetrate. Megan appears with a sleepy Daniel in her arms, her face heavily strained. I hurry to take the boy from her, and she smiles in gratitude. Daniel lets out a tired sigh and pushes his head under my jaw.

Peering down at his face, I stop walking. His lips are parted, and there's a little frown on his face.

I want kids with Evie. I want her waiting for me with our child after a game. I want them both wearing my number and hugging my sweaty body after a game. I want her dreams and her laughs. I want everything.

"Carrington?"

Tipping my head in a nod, I start walking. As I help Daniel into the car, he wakes up. His little face breaks into a smile. "We won!"

"Yeah."

"Did you swear during the game?"

"No," I answer seriously.

"Not even when you argued with the ref?"

"Daniel!"His mother throws me an apologetic glance.

"How's Evie?"she asks pointedly.

"Good."The expression on her face demands more, expects more. So, I keep going. "She's been busy with school and ...dates."

"Dates?"Megan grins. "Very cute."

I nod.

Megan doesn't move. I raise an inquiring eyebrow. "You have something to say?"

She tilts her head to the side, eyes narrowed, looking every inch a sports executive. Then she straightens. "Don't think I need to."

“So, you had something to say,"I push.

She smirks. "And now I realize I don't need to."

As I watch her drive off, my phone chimes with a text from Evie. Date four of seven is Evie's play. But with all the rattling my head and heart have already taken, I'm short on restraint. Frankly, today's not a good time. I can't deal with our background tension. I don't trust myself not to kiss her as badly as I want to.

Evie: Dress code: sweatpants and hoodie, venue: your house, time: I'm already here. I hope that's okay.

Two seconds later.

Evie: And I have your ice bath ready.

I let out a groan.

Despite the fatigue rooting at the edge of my consciousness, I get home in record time. The walk to my front door feels different. My house doesn't feel the same because I know she's there.

Before I get to my door, it opens. Evie's waiting in leggings and a sweatshirt. My sweatshirt.

There are other voices, other people in my home, but I can't be bothered with them.

"You got the game winner,"she tells me.

I nod because speech is overrated.

"And you had a good game. Congratulations."

I nod. My head is a complete blank. Like I've just been dragged out of bed.

She takes a deep breath and steps closer. The smell of orange from her shampoo and her unique scent hit me. Then she goes up on her tiptoes and kisses the corner of my mouth. My senses scramble to understand what's happening as my hand instinctively goes around her waist.

"Congratulations on your game winner, and happy fourth date anniversary."

The last part is like ice water dumped over my head. To Evie, we're on a count down. I try a smile. “Thanks."

"Your ice bath,"she reminds me.

I shuffle into my house, past Richard, Jenny and their congratulations. Perhaps they can tell I'm not in the mood because they keep it short.

Minutes later, I step into my bathroom and let out a groan. Evie hadn't joked about the ice bath.

There's a basket of fruit and the current fantasy novel I'm reading.There'salso bottled water and orange juice within easy reach. And a healthy slice of cake.

"You don't like it,"she whispers from behind me. "I wasn't sure about the fruits and the cake. I wanted to call your nutritionist, but Richard said one day won't kill you. I shouldn't have listened to him."

I can only stare at her. And back to the basket of fruits and cake. Then my eyes land on something else. Her phone. "What's your phone doing here?"

"Oh."She points her eyes at the floor. "I just...I made you a playlist. So you could.... it ’ s silly."

"Evie Cassandra," I whisper.

Her eyes jerk up from my bathroom floor to my face. We stare at each other. And then the corners of her mouth tip up in a smile. I'm not doing anything, but her smile grows until she laughs at me.

"What's funny?"

"You love it,"she murmurs.

I nod.

She sinks her teeth into her lower lip, and I have to look away.

"Okay." She slices the word into a million syllables. "Take your time. I have your clothes laid out, and you can join me on the patio."

I stare in disbelief and a bit of despair.

I thought I would be satisfied with half. We are already a great pair, and I can't imagine not having what I already have with Evie. Wanting anything more is me being greedy. We will still share a laugh, finish each other's sentences, and make each other happy.

It is good enough.

If this is all I can get from her, it's already more than what most couples have.

But why should I have to settle? Why should she?

I slip into my luxurious bath, hissing as the ice goes to work on my overworked body. The playlist Evie got for me is labeled ‘post-game dissection'.

It drags a laugh out of me. The woman knows me too well.

I let the music sweep me under, and in between, I enjoy the fruits, cake, water, and juice. After today, I'm never going to view an ice bath the same again.

I spend roughly fifteen minutes in the bath. I might have dozed a little, too.

My clothes are laid out on my bed, waiting for me.

With the plates and water bottle piled into the basket, I slip Evie's phone into my pocket. I follow the smell of meat, onions, bolognese sauce, and other things on my way to the kitchen.

Richard and Jenny argue over a movie in the background.

Evie's bag is on the floor by the couch.

We eat on the patio. My finger touches the corner of my mouth, the spot she kissed. It still burns. The food is glorious, and I tell her so. And I tell her I want a thousand more of this.

"A thousand?" she asks.

"Forever,"I say succinctly. "Your beautiful face, your company, your laughter, your food. And the ice bath with the playlist.... yeah.”

"We'll be long gone,"she reminds me.

"Maybe, but we will be together."I hope.

We talk about the game and the sequence of events leading to the game winner. She wants to know how I felt when the ball left my hands. How I would have felt if I didn't make the shot. How my teammates reacted. Everything. She mentions seeing Daniel during the game. I grumble good-naturedly about being scared of the swear jar, making her laugh.

Looking into her eyes shiny with delight and happiness, why shouldn't I want it all?

"Notice some of my sweats have found their way into your bag,"I say.

She makes a face. "Like you need them. Maybe I should open a sports shop."

Evie insists on doing the dishes to give me the 'full experience.'It's a lot of work, but she's adamant. I hang around the counter, watching her work and thinking of ways to convince her she belongs with me.

We rejoin the others in the living room and Evie makes a beeline for the couch. In seconds, she's asleep. I drag my body up the stairs to get her a throw and pillow.

As I tuck her in, I can't help drinking her in. She has her fist under her cheek, and her hair is all over the place.

Quietly, I make another trip upstairs for the hair ties in the guest bedroom. I get her hair up and away from her face. She doesn't stir.

I watch her sleep until my eyes start to droop. Then I get a kick from Richard. "Go and get some sleep."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah."I pick my way around Richard; the light from the TV brushes over him, turning him otherworldly. "Bring the volume down and use subtitles."

He makes a sound of agreement, and I'm off. In my bedroom, my hand trails to my mouth, the spot Evie kissed. I let out a huge grin and laugh, pushing my pillow into my face to hold it in. Only after that do I drop down like a submerged ship, going under quickly like I do after a game.

Usually, I can sleep through the night, but not tonight. I jerk up around midnight for no reason. Then my senses remind me Evie's just downstairs, and I'm swinging my legs off the bed.

I rub my eyes as I make my way to the living room. The darkness is like a shroud. I can't see a thing. I find the lowest light. The room is empty. Richard and Jenny have found their way to the guest rooms. Ican'tfind Evie anywhere. Did they help her upstairs? My heart twinges at leaving her alone.

I take a step forward and almost step on her hand. In her sleep, she must have fallen from the couch. I kneel by her. She's fast asleep. And it's just her in the living room.

As gently as I can, I lift her, taking a moment to savor her weight in my arms. She snuggles closer, pushing her face into my chest. I don't move.

Yeah, Evie deserves to be loved completely, without reservations. We both deserve it.

Slowly, I lower her to the couch. She doesn't stir. With the kind of work she put into our date, it's no wonder. I start to straighten, but her hand curls into my shirt.

She groans, and my whole body goes taut. "Sweetheart?"

"Wild?"

"Yes, it's me."

Without opening her eyes, she pats my chest."'Kay."

Feeling like I've just had my legs swiped out from under me, I drop on the couch. After a long moment of watching her breathe, I turn off the lights. Then, I return to the opposite couch and stretch out.

But I can't sleep. I can't sleep because I've just realized I can't and won't let go after seven dates. We have three dates left, and I know I'm not letting her go.

I've made some very questionable decisions Richard won't shut up about, but watching Evie walk away won't be one of them.