Page 26 of On Merit Alone
I didn’t remove the basketball from in front of my face. This position was just too weird, and now he was randomly touching me? Nope.
“Fine,” I answered from my hiding spot. “Pretty normal, I’m fully recovered.”
“Really?” he asked, looking down on it again.Inspecting itlike it was some sort of gadget.
“Yeah,” I clipped. “Movement, strength, agility—all good.”
“Seriously?” He sounded doubtful.
“Yes, Ira.” The way I said his name was strange. Like I knew him more than just from these few instances we’d spent on court.
“Hmm,” he said. Then he shot up to his full height, grabbing hold of the ball and snatching it from me. “Then why are you half-assing on it so much?”
He dribbled backward a few times, completely ignoring the entire half a second his large hands covered mine.
I ignored it too—or tried to.
Lunging for him I tried to steal the ball. He turned out of my grasp, dribbling it away.
I huffed.Oh look, there went his annoying side. I’d forgotten about it for a minute.
“What do you mean I’m half-assing it? I rehab this thing every day. I’m doing everything I’m supposed to,” I said. Did I sound bitchy? No, just defensive. But shouldn’t I be? He was coming at me again.
“Imean,” he started, dribbling close to me only to evade me once again. I barely suppressed a growl. He just raised taunting eyebrows as his lips curled up in amusement. “You bail out on your left side all the time. You’re hesitating.”
“No, I’m not!" I immediately argued because I wasn’t… right?
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yes.”
“So you trust it?”
“Yes.”
“Come at me then,” he taunted.
I scowled but took the challenge. Coming right at him, I went on the offensive, guarding him and trying to get the ball.Myball that he was now monopolizingandteasing me with.
Irritation brought me closer in my attempts this time than last, but Ira still kept the ball out of my reach. Over and over again, I camethisclose to a good swipe, and boom, he’d slide out of mygrasp. It was annoying. And as he executed a final fake left before duping me with a break in the other direction, he moved away with it again.
I was so irritated I wanted to chase him down, snatch the ball, and simply beat him over the head with it. Losing my footing, I nearly stumbled over him as I pulled up on the left side… hesitating.
Shit.
Ira lifted a hand to catch my weight before I toppled over his big feet with my own big feet. We were already so close, and instead of falling to my shoulder or elbow as before, his hand slipped onto my waist. The other held the basketball against his hip.
We were both breathing heavily, chests moving up and down from our efforts. We were too close but too stunned, tired, or paralyzed to move away from each other just yet.
Ira was taller than I was, but not so much taller that I didn’t feel the proximity of his face near mine as he stood over me like this. I both saw and felt the way his eyes traveled the details of my face before he speared them back up to meet mine. When our gazes collided, I recognized knowing in his. And I didn’t even need to hear him speak to know what he’d say. He did anyway. Leaning in to make his point, even though that brought us almost flush as we stood chest to chest.
“You hesitated,” he murmured. “See?”
My lip curled and I shook him off, reestablishing the correct amount of distance between us.
He was annoying, sure, but was he wrong? Wasn’t I just thinking that something felt off? Could that something be what he was suggesting?
“So what? It’s a little weaker, then,” I said, playing it off. “I’ll train more.”
