Page 41 of On Merit Alone

Chapter Twenty-Two

Ira

Transitions in life were hard to navigate. Slow to adjust to. Change in ourselves was harder to come to terms with because the feeling of growth was often uncomfortable until after the growing was done.

My guess was that my growth had just begun, considering how much I was struggling with this decision. Still .

Apparently Ryan wanted an answer; one I still didn’t have. Which I told him as I sat in the chairs of his cushy office away from the Mountaineer Sports Complex.

Glass everywhere, located at the top of a high rise that overlooked the city skyline. Black furniture that looked sleek while also being comfortable. And amenities on amenities available to everyone. I couldn’t resist grabbing either a cup of coffee or a smoothie every time I stepped foot in here.

My cup of coffee felt like a cup of guilt in my hand today as Ryan cut me with sharp, sharp eyes. Our meeting concluding with the knock of his next appointment at the door. “King, I implore you, please , get it the fuck together. I’m sick of having these meetings.”

“Sorry, Ry,” I mumbled .

He was already done with me though, just waving his hand dismissively. “Let my next appointment in on your way out.”

I sighed but got up to get the hell out of there.

Nothing made me feel more incompetent than being injured, but being indecisive was a close second.

Still, I was determined not to rush this decision.

I’d been so sure before that I wanted these to be some of my last games.

I’d been ready to be done, to move on. But after that last run in the tournament, I’d tasted something.

A glimpse of greatness, not just goodness.

And while a new path was still something I desired, so was a title.

Suddenly I wasn’t so sure I was ready to give that up.

I needed advice—to talk to someone about it. And not the same people I’d already been talking about it with. I needed a new perspective. A perspective of someone who knew me, who understood my drive, who had my best interest in mind with no other horse in the race.

A vision of long braids flickered in and out of my mind as quick as a blink, and I sighed.

I wanted to ask Merit what she thought, but there was something holding me back.

Something in the way she acted with basketball—like it was more of a drug or a lifeline than a passion—that I didn’t fully understand yet.

I understood a love for the game, but I was in a different place in my career than the desperate way I used to crave fame and fortune and accolades.

I played the game because it was a part of me.

A love so deep that it felt like family.

I still didn’t know why Merit played.

When I opened the door to Ryan’s office, I thought maybe I was magic—conjuring up my desires well enough that they appeared directly before my eyes.

Angelic and beautiful as always stood Merit on the other side of the door.

She had her hair down but those black sunglasses were pushed up over the top of her head.

I guess she still hadn’t gone to the eye doctor.

She wore casual athletic clothes like she usually did before and after practices.

The black of them was nothing like the bright colors of her “home clothes” she’d worn to my house.

As she laid eyes on me, I could see the softness of recognition hit her gaze.

I never thought a look could get me, but in that moment I wanted her in my arms. Wanted to envelope her rough exterior until I could make her soft for me.

Wanted her as close as I’d had her that night in my house, or the night at the amphitheater.

Even closer if she’d allow it, but it felt like as soon as I was laying eyes on her, a voice was calling out to her from behind me.

“Come in, Merit. Shut the door,” Ryan said. And again, like the last time I heard him talk to her, I thought I noticed a softness about his tone. What was it about?

Slipping past me, Mer stepped into the room and caught the door between her palm to shut it quietly behind herself.

I thought for a second she wasn’t going to speak to me, and for that second I felt a little dejected.

I mean sure she’d been showing up in all the right places and being everything I’d ever needed and a little bit more, but did that mean anything in the grand scheme of things?

Did I really mean anything to her? And did she mean anything to me?

The question worried through my brain at warp speed, and all because she hadn’t waved hello.

But then she caught my eye, just as she was clicking the door shut and stuck her little tongue out at me before whispering, “Who’s the stalker now?”

I couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped, and I realized the question wasn’t did Merit mean anything to me? The real question was, how much?

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this, Six,” I said as I slid into the passenger seat of Merit’s SUV.

She snorted right away. “What? You showing up uninvited? ”

“No.” I smiled. “With you showing up everywhere I am.”

“ You are everywhere I happen to be,” she sputtered.

I swear I could time her reactions on a loop; outraged, exasperated, amused, but not wanting to admit it. I was starting to look forward to her predictable, yet totally addicting, reactions. It made me want to pull more out of her.

Which is why I leaned a shoulder in and said, “Hate to break it to you, Six, but if I’m here first then that means you’re the one following me.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose, her head shaking and her glasses scooting down her forehead some. I tapped them. “No appointment yet?”

“Nuh-uh,” she mumbled, averting her eyes and immediately changing the subject. “How are you feeling?”

“Terrible,” I said, which made her flinch, giving me a pitying look that I didn’t quite like. So I added, “But not too bad, considering. Just a little confused.”

“Confused?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I said. That’s all I said. And after a while I could feel her looking at me, waiting on me to elaborate. I grumbled, “So do you ever, like, drive this thing, or is that just some kind of illusion?”

“What is up with you and your obsession with me driving?” she chuckled.

“I don’t know,” I said, shifting uncomfortably. “I feel like there’s a lot of attention on me right now.”

“You don’t want me to pay attention to you?”

“I want all of your attention, Merit. It’s sick how much of it I want. It’s just, with this, I don’t know—I guess I haven’t said it to anyone outside of my family, so telling you makes it feel sort of real,” I admitted.

This seemed to peak her interest, shifting her in her seat to sit up taller. Her shoulders went rigid. “You’re not hurt badly after all, are you? More surgery? ”

“No,” I breathed. “No, Mer. I’m already feeling almost a hundred percent again. It’s not that.”

“Oh,” she breathed, and the amount of relief she felt for me made my chest move. Made me certain that she was the right person to ask about this. “So, what is it then?”

Nerves took me as I looked down at my hands.

Big, ambitious hands that had carried me so far.

It felt like a betrayal to them and to everyone who’s taken a hold of them on this journey to be saying this.

But if I was going to figure it out once and for all and stop making excuses, I would have to start somewhere.

So I’d start here. With her.

“I um.. My contract is ending. It’s actually ended, technically,” I said, not looking at her.

She didn’t say anything right away, but I could feel her looking at me. Contemplating. After a second of silence, she reached her hand across the space between us and slid it into mine, squeezing reassuringly to coax me along.

I took a breath, readying myself to say what I needed to. What I needed to start considering seriously. “My contract is ending and I don't know if I’m going to re-sign.”

“You… don’t know?” she asked slowly. “Are you moving?”

“No,” I answered.

“No,” she echoed. Turning her shoulders more toward me, she shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

“C’mon, are you really going to make me say it, Six?” I asked a little miserably.

She just blinked. “I truly don’t know what you're talking about. I’m confused, Ira.”

I took a breath, letting it seep out in a dejected stream. “I don’t think I want to renew my contract or have a contract anywhere. I don’t know if I want to come back, Six.”

“To basketball?” she asked, her voice going up to a high keen. I winced, and she took it as a personal attack, her eyes growing wide and her hand jerking out of mine like it was on fire. Turning toward me, she pointed. “You’re saying you don’t know if you want to come back to basketball ?”

Well, when she put it like that—like I was the dumbest man alive from the tone of her voice— I felt stupid. But I’d already said it, so looking down at my now empty hands, I nodded. “Yeah.”

She sucked in a sharp breath, her distance from me seeming to grow as she pressed herself up against the door. I felt my stomach drop, a sick feeling beginning to creep in. I don’t know what kind of reaction I was hoping for, but I was almost positive, it wasn’t this.

“Are you kidding, Ira?”

“Um, no Merit. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.

I haven’t told anyone else because I’m very much not kidding,” I said, blinking at her in disbelief.

She pressed her lips together so tight I was sure air couldn’t even filter through.

My eyebrows pinched together in confusion, hurt finding its way into my chest but not stopping my stupid words from slipping loose. “Don’t you want to know why?”