Page 88 of Half-Court Heat

“I like waking up like this,” she said after a moment. “With you in my ear.”

“Me, too.”

There was another pause, longer this time.

“I’m nervous about rehabbing my knee,” she said. “What if I can’t do it?”

The fear in her voice wasn’t loud, but it was present.

“You can do it,” I encouraged. “And you will.”

“But what if I can’t come back the way I was?” she openly worried. “What if I’m slower, or weaker, or?—”

“Eva.”

She fell silent.

“You’re the most explosive, smartest, scariest player I’ve ever faced,” I said. “One knee isn’t going to change that.”

“You haven’t seen me try to get out of bed lately.”

“Okay, fair,” I said, smiling gently. “But that’s temporary. You’re built for this. You’ve come back from hard shit before. You just haven’t had to do it this slowly.”

She let out a long breath. “That’s the part that’s messing with me—how long this is going to take. I want to be back already.”

“I know,” I appeased. “But rushing won’t make it better. It’ll just make it worse.”

Another quiet moment passed between us.

“Thank you,” she said finally.

“For what?”

“For knowing what to say without making it a pep talk.”

I smiled warmly. “You’d see right through a pep talk.”

“Exactly.”

“You’ve got this,” I encouraged. “Even if it’s hard. Even if it takes a while. I’m here.”

“I know,” she said in a hushed tone brimming with emotions. “And I’m so glad you’re mine.”

Her words stopped me for a second. I blinked hard at the ceiling and rapidly swallowed.

“Text me after practice?” she requested.

“Text me after PT,” I managed to choke out.

“Deal,” she agreed.

For a second, neither of us said anything. I didn’t want to hang up. Even though we’d talked all night. Even though I’d slept better with her voice in my ear than I had in days.

“I love you,” I said.

“I love you more.”

“Not possible.”