Page 32 of Half-Court Heat (Hoops & Heartstrings #2)

I was reluctant to leave Eva at the apartment the next day, but she’d practically shoved me out the front door.

I had weights to lift and treatment in the PT room and an afternoon practice.

Eva reminded me of my responsibility to Briana and to my teammates, but in truth, she was the only one I was worried about.

Eventually, however, she’d convinced me to go, with the promise that she’d take things easy while I was gone and would accept her mom’s help if she needed it.

I mostly kept to myself for the better part of the day. No one was clamoring to approach me, however, as if Eva’s season-ending injury might be contagious. They’d paused their routines to acknowledge that another player had gotten hurt, but now it was time to get back to the grind.

Team Embers, one player down, shot around the practice court while we waited for Coach Demarios’s arrival.

Dez dribbled between her legs before taking a mid-range shot from the elbow. “Well, more playing time for everyone, I guess.”

The 3-on-3 format already demanded elevated conditioning with its fast pace and wide open court. With our numbers dwindled due to Eva’s absence, it was going to put our fitness to the test. My stomach still soured at the thought of her stuck at home while the rest of us carried on without her.

We all turned when the double doors to the gymnasium popped open and Briana walked in. “Hey, Embers,” she called out. “I found you a new teammate.”

A second figure walked through the practice gym’s doors. I squinted beyond Briana to identify the newcomer.

Arika nudged Rayah beside her. “Dude.” Her voice brimmed with awe. “That’s Mya Brown.”

My former Shamrocks teammate walked across the hardcourt with a slight hitch in her step, not from a lingering injury, but with the swagger of an athlete who’d done and seen it all. Her aura was almost too big for the gym.

Mya walked directly towards me. A smile slowly stretched across her face—the same face that had stared down at me from the posters that had covered my childhood bedroom walls.

“What do ya think, Bennet? One more rodeo before I ride off into the sunset?”

I heard Briana call out to me as I left the gymnasium at the end of practice. “Hey, Lex—you got a second?”

I took a long pull from my water bottle and waited for her to jog down the hallway to me. “Sure. What’s up?”

“How’s Eva doing?”

I shrugged. “As good as can be expected. Her mom just got into town, so that’s a whole other layer of stress.”

Briana nodded, but it didn’t seem like she’d actually heard me. She closed her eyes and rubbed at her temples.

“This is awkward,” she started, “and I don’t even know how to frame it, so I’m just going to ask. Is Eva going to sue us?”

I arched an eyebrow. “Huh?”

“It’s just—I didn’t think to have anyone sign any waivers beforehand, and we didn’t have a doctor on site, which necessitated the ER visit instead of her being treated here.

” She sucked in a deep breath. Heading up the league was running her ragged.

“Would it be a conflict of interest if I asked you to talk to her about it? Kind of feel out where she’s at, or if she’s considering a lawsuit? ”

I stared at her. “I’m not sure how that would come up organically in a conversation.”

What I really wanted to say was, Are you kidding me?

“I wouldn’t ask otherwise, but the investors are getting nervous,” she said. “She could bankrupt the league before we even get started.”

I blew out a breath. “Yeah, okay,” I finally agreed. “I’ll ask.”

I wasn’t sure which would blow up first—Eva at the suggestion she’d turn litigious, or the league itself.

The apartment looked the same when I first walked in, but only for a second. I stood in the foyer and scanned the parts I could see. Everything gleamed. The counters shone, the throw blankets were folded into precise rectangles, the air even smelled faintly lemony.

We didn’t keep a messy household, but Eva’s mom had deep-cleaned everything while I was at practice. She’d practically detailed our shared space like it was a luxury car. I had a sinking feeling that if I went into the bathroom, I wouldn’t be able to find my toothbrush.

“How was practice?” Eva asked from her place on the couch.

I dropped my bag by the door and slipped off my sandals, suddenly self-conscious that they might scuff the freshly scrubbed floor. I crossed the room and lowered myself beside her, careful not to disturb the tidy folds of the blanket at her side.

“Practice was … eventful,” I said. “Team Embers got a new addition.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Briana convinced Mya Brown to come out of retirement.”

Eva laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Of course. Replaced by Mya Brown. Again.”

The name carried weight for both of us. Mya had announced that the previous season would be her last in the professional league.

She’d been coming off the bench, spelling Eva when she got winded or racked up fouls.

But once she said she was retiring, the coaching staff and team ownership had made the call: start Mya, sit Eva.

And when Chicago had come shopping with three first-round draft picks, Boston hadn’t been able to resist. Eva had been their prized rookie—first-overall pick, hometown hero. She hadn’t even lasted the season.

“You know it’s not a true replacement,” I said, trying to keep the earnestness in my voice from sounding like pity.

Eva didn’t respond, so I laced my fingers through hers and enjoyed the quiet. The apartment felt unusually calm without her mom’s ever-present hum of activity.

“Where’s your mom?” I asked finally.

Our apartment was generously sized, but not so much that Virginia Montgomery’s presence wouldn’t be noticeable.

“She ran out to the store. Probably going to reorganize the pantry next,” Eva muttered.

I smiled faintly. The thought of her mom auditing our spice rack was both horrifying and completely believable. But the reminder of practice tugged me back.

“Speaking of weird—Briana’s worried you’re going to sue the league over your injury.”

Eva blinked, her head snapping toward me. “What? Why would she think that?”

“I don’t know,” I shrugged helplessly. “People sue each other, I guess.”

Her brow furrowed. “I’m not coming after her league. We all take on a bit of liability every time we step on a court. A pick-up game. A jog around the neighborhood.”

I hesitated with my next question. It had been sitting at the back of my mind ever since the diagnosis of her injury. “Would you have said yes to playing in the league if we weren’t together?”

“I’m a big girl, Lex—I make my own decisions.

I’m not in the habit of doing things I don’t want to do.

The league was a smart investment,” she admitted.

“A generous paycheck for a handful of games, plus equity in the league. That alone would have been hard to turn down. Plus, I was kind of hoping to help my relationship with other players in the league.” She wrinkled her nose.

“I’ve somehow gotten a reputation for being cold and unapproachable. ”

I squeezed her hand and smiled. “Aw, baby. You wanted to make more friends?”

I heard her sound of displeasure. “It sounds so dumb when you put it that way,” she huffed. “You’d think me falling in love with America’s Sweetheart would have endeared me to them.”

“What’d you call me?” I practically guffawed.

“Oh, you know you’re Middle-America’s Basketball Princess.”

“I have never … in my whole life …” I sputtered.

She looked entirely too pleased with herself, which only made it worse.

“Middle-America’s Basketball Princess,” I repeated, still sputtering. “If you ever call me that in public?—”

“Oh, I will,” Eva promised, smug as ever.

I threw a pillow at her, but she caught it one-handed. Her grin, for once, was unguarded. Clean apartment or not, I didn’t mind making a little mess.