Page 43

Chapter 42

Brooks

“Three months? You’re kidding,” Lia screeches from the other room. She’s on the phone with her landlord and I don’t think it’s going well. “Oh, I’m sorry, at least three months.” Sarcasm drips from her voice as they go back and forth.

I pretend like I can’t hear her and put away the groceries I had delivered. It’s not that I don’t ever keep food in the house, but it depends on my game schedule. Plus, I usually only plan for myself.

Lia joins me in the kitchen, her shadow Rocky following close behind.

“So, once we left yesterday, more of the ceiling fell in,” she cries. “Everything in my bedroom is a loss. All my clothes. Bed. Books. All of it.”

“That is awful. Do they know what happened?”

Her eyes water as she slips into a barstool. “Apparently, the unit above me started running a bath and forgot about it. Like, left the apartment for the weekend.”

“Wow. That’s not what I expected you to say.”

Lia shrugs. “They think it will be at least three months until it’s fixed.”

I meant what I said when I brought her here—she can stay. I have nothing but space. Now, seeing if she wants to stay is a completely different question.

She rambles on. “I can’t afford a hotel. I texted Shelbie about staying with her, but she already has a roommate in a one-bedroom apartment. Someone already sleeps on the couch. There’s no room at my aunt and uncle’s place. I don’t want to disrupt Wes either.”

Leaning on the counter in front of her, I say, “I know your immediate answer is going to be no, or you can’t, but let me offer.” I pause, and she raises an eyebrow. “You can stay here. There’s clearly enough room. Plus, we’re going to be traveling together for away games. If you don’t want to, I understand, but if you’re trying to convince yourself that you don’t deserve this or you don’t want to be a burden… Lia, let me help you.”

“Don’t you think it’s fast?” Her question is quiet while she picks her head up. “Do I move in and sleep in your room? The guest room?”

I shrug my shoulders and answer, “It’s up to you. I mean, it’s not like we’re saying you’ll stay here forever. Or maybe you could? I don’t know. I’m just saying, I have the means to help you through this. If you’re comfortable, I’m comfortable.”

“What I’m too much for you?” she asks meekly. “I don’t want this to ruin this. I know I’m a lot and sometimes I do annoying things, and I’ve never really lived with someone like this and—”

I put a finger over her mouth and let out a laugh. “Lia, I’ve never felt you’re too much. Honestly, I can’t get enough of you. Maybe this is a good thing? We won’t know unless we try.”

She looks at me then gets off the stool, kneeling to pet Rocky.

“Okay,” she agrees after a quiet moment. “But only if you know you’re not locked in. If we try and it doesn’t work, that’s okay. I know I just went down my shortlist of options and they all feel like a ‘no,’ but I’d make something work.”

I walk over and press my mouth to hers. We’ve been through a lot in the last twenty-four hours, and this feels like we’re making a turn. My fingers move up her back and into her hair, which became curly once she took her braids out. When Lia circles her arms around my neck, I murmur, “Okay. I can do that. ”

She smiles and kisses me again. Rocky interrupts when he gets on his hind legs, putting his paws on our legs and looking for attention.

“Now, I have an idea for clothes,” I suggest, pulling my phone out and making a call.

“Wait, can you get into the arena whenever you want?” Lia asks as I hold the door open after punching in my code.

I can’t help but smirk at the awe in her voice. “Maybe? I’ve never tried when really no one is here… seems like someone is always doing something.”

“What are we doing here?”

I so badly want to reach for her hand and walk with her through the halls, but I can’t risk it. I usually always see someone from the coaching or training staff on random days when I come in to work out. Instead, we walk side by side until we end up in front of a set of doors I know are unlocked—the ones I called about. It always helps to have some inside connections, like random equipment managers who don’t mind helping you out on an off day.

“Are you ready?” I ask, catching her eyes bright and looking around. She has no idea where we are.

“Maybe? I don’t even know what we we’re doing.” Lia’s voice is hushed, like she’s trying not to get caught.

I swing open the door, turn the lights on, and step in. “This is where all the extra teamwear goes after each seasonal drop. There’s stuff from the last few years, some that’s never been sold. You, my little Jags fiend, are welcome to take anything you need. I also anticipate there will be lots of items in your size because you’re not exactly a big and bulky NBA player or coach.”

Her jaw drops. “This isn’t real,” she insists. “Did you have to pay to get me in here? There’s no way all of this is up for grabs.”

“I promise it is. Only thing I did was call in a favor to get this room unlocked. Really, anyone from the organization can come in here and take what’s left. We’re not breaking the rules,” I reassure her.

Lia’s mouth hangs open as her eyes move from shelf to shelf, bouncing from sweatshirts to tank tops to shoes. She moves closer, checking sizes and holding items up to herself. She turns back to me, and I can see the exhaustion lining her face as she says, “Thank you. For this. For all of it.”

“Can’t think of anyone more worth it,” I reply.

And it’s the truth.

“Is this what you feel like when you watch game film? Because this makes me want to throw up, cover my face, then run far away from all of it.” Lia puts her hands in front of her eyes, dramatically peeking at me through them.

We’re on the couch, Rocky snoring between us, and watching the game back. “At first, when I got drafted to the NBA. Then it felt like everyone was keeping track of every single mistake I made; like the fans thought I was a bust. Lia, this is pretty fucking incredible,” I gush. “You sound like you belong in that booth.”

“Belong? Bold statement.” Lia scoffs and brushes away my compliment .

“For a bold woman who fucking deserves it. I wanted to ask—how was Blake?”

She stops and gives me a long look. “He was amazing. I had to keep telling myself I wasn’t sitting next to an all-time great. But he gave me pointers during commercial breaks and did nothing but encourage me.”

My chest warms at the thought. I’ve only met him once in passing but I’m glad he was so supportive. Lia turns back to the TV, watching as the first quarter wraps ends.

“My voice was quiet and a bit shaky at the beginning. Plus, I kept bringing up random stats from the front of my brain. It didn’t necessarily flow.” She rattles off the things she doesn’t like about watching or listening to herself.

I reach a hand over the sleeping dog and squeeze her thigh. “Yes, you sounded the smallest, littlest, barely noticeable kind of nervous at the beginning. Sort of like it was the first time you did it on one of the biggest stages.” I give her thigh a shake. “Give yourself some credit.”

Lia lets out a slow breath, leaning back on the cushions. “Fine. This is me giving myself credit.” Her smile is weak but at least it’s there.

“How many people do you think would do what you did? Put themselves out there like that? Not many,” I remind her.

“I guess you’re right. It did feel encouraging that Megan vouched for me.”

“I have a feeling people are going to keep doing that. You’re fucking worth it.”

“That’s the second time you’ve said that tonight.” She turns her body to face me, leaning her head on the couch.

I love that she picks up on it. “You’re right. Because I want you to believe it. ”

She reaches for my hand that’s still resting on her leg and turns it over. Lia puts her hand in mine, squeezes once, and pushes play on the TV, ready for the next quarter.