Page 2 of Half-Court Heat

Eva’s postseason had ended earlier than mine, with Chicago falling to New York in the semis. I hated that I was on the roadwhen it happened. But if we were going to make this work, I had to accept reality: with our schedules, we wouldn’t always be there for each other’s losses or wins. Sometimes all we’d have were phone calls, late-night texts, or surprise ice cream deliveries.

“I’ve half a mind to call the front desk to dump a truckload of ice in here. I’ll turn this whole damn pool into one big ice bath,” she challenged. “Thenwe’ll see who’s soft.”

“Not everything has to be a competition, you know.”

Eva scoffed. “Says the girl who couldn’t handle losing a single game of Horse.”

“That wasonetime,” I protested, although I couldn’t stop smiling.

Eva hummed and gave me a skeptical look.

We drifted around the pool separately, letting the water carry us, until the space became too much—like some invisible tether kept pulling us back together. Eva wound her legs around my waist, and I caught her instinctively by the hips.

I could feel the flex of her thighs against my sides, the shift of muscle as she adjusted. Her skin was warm from the sun, her thighs slick from sunscreen and sweat. It was impossible not to notice how good she felt under my hands.

I slid my hands to the small of her back, holding her easily in the water and guiding us into a slow, aimless drift. On land, she had inches on me, but here, she was weightless.

Her chest brushed mine with every breath, every movement. I tried not to stare at the way her bikini clung to her—how the wet fabric molded to the shape of her breasts, how the outline of her nipple teased just beneath the thin triangle of fabric.

She was trying to kill me. I was sure of it.

“Keep looking like that and I’m going to forget we’re supposed to be relaxing,” I murmured my warning.

Her fingers traced the line of my collarbone and dipped below the edge of my bikini top. “What if I don’t want to relax?”

I swallowed. Hard.

Eva leaned in. “You said we didn’t have to plan anything.”

“I didn’t realize that included seduction by pool float,” I breathed.

Her low laugh vibrated through me. She kissed the corner of my mouth, then deeper. Her lips tasted of lime and sea salt, and I kissed her back like I’d been craving it for weeks. Months. Maybe always.

Under the water, her hands slid over my hips, then around to grip my ass. I drew in a sharp breath as heat bloomed low in my belly.

“You were saying something about sunscreen?” she teased against my lips.

“I think we need to reapply,” I practically panted. “Thoroughly.”

She smiled, but there was something soft behind it. Her eyes searched mine, and her hand reached up, fingers brushing a damp strand of hair from my forehead. Her fingers lingered, and I felt a warmth spread through me that had nothing to do with the sun.

“Can I say something?” she asked, her voice quiet.

“Of course.”

She didn’t speak, not right away.

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else right now. Notwithanyone else.”

Her words were solemn, and her fingers grazed the side of my cheek. Her touch was gentle; it was like she was committing every detail to memory.

I felt my heart catch, the weight of her words settling into a warm, steady ache.

“This is exactly where I want to be,” I agreed.

I leanedagainst the bar top and swirled the rapidly melting ice cubes at the bottom of my paloma. I’d finished getting ready in the room well before Eva, so she’d insisted I go ahead to the resort restaurant to make sure we didn’t lose our reservation. I was more than happy to abandon going out and order room service instead, but Eva had pushed me out the front door.

My attention drifted to the televisions hanging over the bar. Each oversized flatscreen featured a different sporting event. Amazingly, I wasn’t thinking about the next time I would be back on a basketball court. For the first time in as long as my memory stretched back, I wasn’t experiencing competition withdrawals.