Page 38 of On Merit Alone

He was silent. As the quiet egged on, I found myself peeking over at him and was surprised to find a soft expression on his face.

When our eyes touched, it got even softer.

“You know when I tell you to take it easy I’m not saying it because you’re too intense for me or something.

I like the way you are. I understand it because I feel like that sometimes too—especially when basketball is involved.

But sometimes things grow too big in our own heads and we need someone to remind us to take it easy before it consumes us.

That’s all I’m doing, Six. Reminding you to get out of your head. ”

My body thrummed with the vibration of his earth shaking words. Why was he so good? Why was it me he’d decided to share that good with?

“Okay,” I said, voice small. It’s all I could say as I swallowed to mask the croak of my voice. I stood corrected by Ira King. Again.

“Okay?” he asked, confirming I understood one more time. I nodded and he followed suit, his eyes sliding to the ball. “I’m tired and I just want to take my mind off the serious things for a while. I thought you could use the same. So, play with me?”

I took the ball, dribbling a few times. “Up the stakes, how?”

The smile he offered this time was almost wicked. “You miss a shot, you lose your clothes.”

I sputtered, my eyes blinking rapidly as an embarrassing warmth spread throughout my entire body.

Ira laughed. “You look surprised.”

“I’m shocked ,” I admitted .

“Why?” he asked, still laughing.

“Because I thought you were nice!” I said. “You’re the last person I expected this from.”

The rich sound of his laughter continued into the night as he stepped toward me.

Plucking the ball from my hands, he let it drop to the ground.

The echo of the dead bounces was the only sound between us as he closed in on me, his body close as he ran a hand up my arm.

When that hand skated up over my shoulder, along my neck, and under my jaw, he pressed a thumb to the bottom of my chin and lifted.

When I met his eyes, they were molten in a way I hadn’t seen from him before.

“Just because I’m nice doesn’t mean I’m not wondering what you got going on under the jersey, Six,” he said. “It just means I’m usually too polite to ask.”

“And now?” I asked.

His eyes dropped low. “Now I’m not feeling polite.”

I tipped my chin higher. “You’ll have to actually win to get me out of my clothes, King. It’s funny that you think you have a chance.”

He smiled—a full on grin chock full of smug arrogance and amusement.

Leaning down, he entered my space as he ran his eyes up and down my features.

His lips came dangerously close to mine but didn’t quite touch.

Unconsciously, I leaned forward, chasing for contact.

And not missing a beat, he pulled just out of reach, chuckling. “Light work, Six.”

He broke away and I felt a rush of emptiness at that loss of connection. But I also felt a rush of excitement. I’d never done anything like this and doing it with Ira spiked my heart rate to game playing levels.

“Me first?” I asked as Ira went to stand under the hoop.

“Be my guest,” he said, motioning for me to take a shot. And that’s how our game of Strip HORSE began .

Our very anticlimactic game of Strip HORSE…

Every shot I made, Ira made with ease, and contrary to the way my day had gone, I made each shot just as easy.

Boring.

It wasn’t that I was trying to get naked, per se… but I did want something to happen.

It was after I made yet another shot that I put my hands on my hips and huffed. “This isn’t going to work. We’re making everything.”

His laughter filled the court and filled my chest as it always did. “Easy, Six. You want me naked that bad?”

I crossed my arms. “At least something would be happening.”

“Sorry. I’ve been taking it easy,” he admitted.

“Why?”

“I don’t know. For some reason, I thought you would be shy.”

“I’m not,” I said. “Why would you think that?”

He shrugged. “Cause you’re shy about things that have to do with yourself. I guess I thought your body was included.”

I blinked. He was spot on. While I wasn’t shy about what I had going on the outside of me, the inside was a whole different story. “Do you have, like, X-ray vision?”

He smiled. “God, I wish I did. I can never tell what’s going on in your head, and I want to.”

“I thought you wanted me naked.”

“I want a lot, Merit.”

“And let me guess, Ira King gets what he wants.”

“Generally.”

“And how are you going to get what you want now?”

He tipped his chin to the side, thinking for a second. “How about we change the rules? First shooter gets to ask the other a question?”

I immediately squirmed but hesitated to deny the challenge. How bad could it be? “Fine. Me first? ”

He smiled. “No, sweetheart. You just went. My turn.”

My stomach turned. Damn .

Grumbling, I crossed my arms. “Fine. Go ahead, take your shot.”

He smiled, and I should’ve known by that smile alone that I was being set up. But I’d grown accustomed to nice guy Ira. So I didn’t even see it coming.

Backing up to mid-court Ira set and shot the ball with perfect form. It went sailing through the air and straight through the net, zero backboard in sight.

I blinked. He blinked. I glared. He smiled. “Your turn.”

I blew out hot air. What a little faker. Taking the ball down mid-court I lined myself up where Ira had just been standing, looking at him for confirmation that this was right. He nodded but when I set to take my shot, he said, “Hold up. Not so fast.”

“What?” I asked.

“My question, remember?”

“Oh,” I deadpanned. “Now?”

“Yep.” He popped the p, smug and happy with himself and his plan. He let his eyes do that trailing thing along my body as he thought of something to ask. “So… why do you play, Mer?”

Prickling, uncomfortable sensations crawled up the back of my neck. His question was simple yet… not. I speared a look at him. “That’s the big thing you wanted to know about me? Why I play?”

“I’d like to know the real reason, yeah,” he said. “Cause I can’t seem to figure you out myself.”

“Hmm.” I bounced the ball instead of answering right away. Naturally, I stopped at nine dribbles, my ritualistic number when I was playing for real. My family number, before they were no more.

When I took the shot, I missed. A hiss of disapproval shot out of my mouth as I turned to Ira with my arms over my chest. He raised his eyebrows waiting for the answer, and I fidgeted.

“Because I love it?” His expression immediately told me that wasn’t going to cut it.

I sighed, watching the ground. “I play because… because it’s a part of me.

I know everyone says that, but the game is like another limb or a major artery in my heart.

It’s the only thing keeping it beating at this point. ”

“So, you don’t have plans to stop any time soon?”

I shivered. “No. Never.”

He nodded, then tipped his chin at me with a spreading smile. “Alright, c’mon. Lose the shirt.”

I laughed loud and slipped out of my shoes instead. “Yeah right, King. Nice try. My ball.”

Taking the ball up closer, I set up for my shot but this time used my non-dominant hand to lead.

Both Ira and I were righty’s, so shooting lefty was unnatural.

But I used to practice the shot for fun when I was younger, which is why it went in even from the free throw line.

I could tell Ira was impressed as he stepped up to the line behind me.

Before he went for his shot, I asked, “What more is there for you besides basketball?”

He bounced the ball once, then shot with his left hand. It wasn’t even close and I couldn’t hide the smug smile that crossed my lips at the sight of his airball. As he passed by me to retrieve it, he pinched my cheek with a grumble. As he returned, he dribbled absently as he thought of his answer.

“I don’t really know,” he said. “I think one day I'd like to coach. Maybe start an organization. Give back to the sport that gave me so much, you know? I don’t know what I want exactly. All I know is that I’ve been searching for this feeling of more… and I want to find it.”

I nodded. “Well, I think you’ll be great at all those things when you’re ready for them. I mean look how you helped me. Halfway to coach already.”

“Yeah…” he said, his eyes trailing over me as his words tapered off .

I smiled, leaning in at the waist as I whispered mockingly, “Now lose the shirt, King.”

He smiled too, and then he was suddenly shirtless, his long-sleeve fluttering off to the ground beside him in a heap.

The only thing left on his torso was that small silver chain that glinted in the pointed court lights.

I blinked, my vision suddenly full of smooth light brown skin and dense, sculpted muscles.

A chest that was both lean and broad and shoulders that chorded in a way that choked me up.

He grinned. “What? You asked.”

“I didn’t think you would do it.”

“It was going to happen one way or another,” he shrugged. Then he looked pointedly at my sock clad feet. “And don’t even bother going for those socks next. They don’t count.”

“Whatever, just shoot,” I said.

He did. Another outside shot from the side of the court. And just as I went up to shoot my own, he asked, “Do you have a boyfriend?”

I coughed, my shot going wide of the hoop and singing through the air. “Why on earth would you need to know that?”

“Call it curiosity,” he said, eyes heavy.

I chewed my cheek. “No.”

“Do you want one?” he asked.

“No double questions,” I scolded.

“Well I don’t see any clothes coming off, so I better be getting something…”

I guffawed, and then I quickly slipped myself out of my athletic shorts. I had compression shorts on underneath, and my T-shirt was long enough that it draped down decently low over my front.