Page 101 of On Merit Alone
He wasn’t kidding.Either Ira really liked going places or he was making it his own personal mission to makemego places, because ever since he’d shown up at my game, he hasn’t really left.
Obviously he went home and had his own schedule to keep, but it seemed as if every down hour he had, he was appearing by my side.
On top of the fact that he was back to practicing with me, he was also doing the thing where he appeared in my car. Instead of just sitting there and talking, or fighting like that one time, Ira came supplied with destinations in mind. Reading off addresses as soon as he sat in the passenger seat and blinking at me blankly until I finally conceded and started driving there.
The first destination was a coffee shop. It was after a particularly annoying practice where Ira not so humbly wiped the floor with me one on one. I was so frustrated by the end of it that I shot over a hundred extra shots before he put his foot down and straight up stole my balls, forbidding me from shooting another basket the day before a game.
So, it was to my surprise that the coffee shop he led us to wasattached to the now familiar cake shop he’d ordered from near my place. I instantly lit up at the sight of it, and I think it was his plan all along to distract me from the fact that I was annoyed with him for being so good and so cocky about it.
Further evidence was the coffee and strawberry cream cake he bought me. I ate it happily and when I caught him smiling over at me, I tried to replace the scowl on my face from earlier, but it was to no avail.
“So, let me get this straight?” I said, sucking the cream from my thumb not wanting to waste a drop. “I can’t shoot baskets the day before a game but I can eat cake?”
He smiled softly. Leaning in, he curled his hand under my chin and used his thumb to wipe what had to be cream from the corner of my mouth. Holding it up he raised his eyebrows, and when I opened my mouth a tiny bit, he gave me a more coaxing look.
Tentatively, I slipped my tongue over the icing and sucked it off his finger in a lick. He watched me with heavy lidded eyes, his gaze following everything my mouth did with laser focus. When I was done, his voice seemed to get gravelly as he said, “Basketball wasn’t making you smile like this. Strategic change of plans.”
The next locations we visited weren’t out of the ordinary. One day, he got me to admit that I usually get my groceries delivered, and he looked at me blankly before saying, “What the hell do you need to get one sack of potatoes delivered for?”
This had made me laugh and he kept making me laugh as we went through the grocery store, ducking away from people who constantly recognized him; jokingly guessing what the people who were staring at us were thinking—because “how’s the weather up there” wasn’t just a dumb dad joke when you were this tall, people actually asked it—and finally, me chasing him around as he shot fruit into the shopping cart like they were basketballs.
Another day he led us to a shaved ice stand posted up near the riverwalk. It was nearing eighty degrees that day, but he still wore ahood and a zipper up to his neck. When I asked him what was up with it, he just tipped his chin over his shoulder and said in a low voice “It’s no disguise, but it’ll at least hide me a bit.”
When I realized he was toughing it out in the heat for me so he could show me this place and buy me a treat, I immediately felt impatient as I tapped my foot in the line. As soon as we got our shaved ice—mine strawberry and his… strawberry too? I dragged him back to the car instead of eating them on the picnic tables nearby.
“Yo, Six,” he said, shock rolling through his tone as he caught onto my hands while I pushed his hoodie off his shoulders. “Sweetheart,woah. What are you doing?”
“You’re going to overheat. C’mon Ira, take it off,” I instructed. Totally serious.
He laughed, the sound husky and barely holding humor. Instead it was a warm and heady sound as he used steady hands along my waist to set me aside. “You can’t be undressing me in broad daylight, girl. I’ll overheat anyway.”
I registered the butterflies his words gave me, but my worry for him overtook them. “I don’t like you being uncomfortable for me.”
He raised one of my hands to his lips and then the other, kissing them before replacing the ice. He extended the treat to me, saying, “Eat before it melts.”
And damn if he didn't get the second strawberry for me to have too.
Now, as I showed up at the practice gym not long after my own team practice, Ira was already there shooting baskets waiting for me. I barely noticed him. I mean, I knew he was there, because he had often been there waiting for me nowadays and somewhere against my better judgment, I had started expecting him there. My attachment to him was quick and alarming, but the damage of depending on him had already been done. I would just have to be okay with dealing with the consequences later.
I was stuck in my own head, the weight of the expectations placed upon me feeling heavier today for some reason. Our matchup against New York was in sight, and I could just feel the pressure of how important of a game that was. And with Manzinni still breathing down my neck and pressuring me to put up not only results but a picture perfect image, I couldn't help but focus on the stakes it was all riding on too. So while I now looked for him around every gym corner, today his presence usually provided a safe place for me, wasn’t quite registering like normal.
I was irritable and anxious, so seeing Ira with his bright smiles and ever constant calm was not what I wanted to do. Not because I didn’t want to be around him, but because I didn’t want him to have to be around me.
I tried to mask my feelings. Because despite my fear of what might be bound to happen in the future, I was starting to care about what happened in the present too. Especially when it came to this man.
I wanted to put my best foot forward for him at all times. Which is where my weak fake smile came from as he started toward me by the door.
It only took one look at my face to stop him in his tracks, frown, and say, “Nope.”
“Nope?” I asked slowly.
“That’s what I said.” Eating up the rest of the distance between us, he dropped a hand to my shoulder and started turning me around. “We’re putting this thing in reverse.”
“Ira! Why?” I asked, surprised.
“Cause you’re in a shit mood. I couldfeelit from the doorway, Six.”
Peeking at him behind me, I bit my lip. “Areyouin a bad mood?”
