Page 67 of On Merit Alone
I whipped my head toward her, needing to hear what she had to say like I needed my next breath. All my insecurities seemed to be tied into this one conversation with her and it was alarming how much I knew whatever she would say had the power to either build me up or break me down. When had that happened?
“But?” I asked. Pleaded. My voice gravelly and desperate.
She turned toward me. “But you’ve taught them how to play around your absence. Coach makes the plays, I’m sure, but you give them the confidence that they’ve got this even when you’re not on that court with them. They might still need you, but it’s in a different way than you think. It’s evident how much of a pillar you are in the way they look to the court when you’re on it, or the bench when you’re on it or the screenwhen you’re freaking on it. You’re something to them. Like a support beam or glue, you hold people together. Lift them up. And you don’t need to be on court for that. You just need to be you.”
I swallowed and her eyes tracked the movement, analyzing every raw emotion on me as we stood in a gym full of our teammates.
“You do a pretty good job, Eleven. Your guys see it. Your staff sees it. I see it…” she said. “Do you see it?”
Everything she said wrapped around my heart like a warm blanket, but a nagging sense of disappointment remained.
“This was supposed to be my season,” I groaned.
“To win?”
“To do more than just win. To–” I sighed. “To just… do more.”
She didn’t seem like she quite understood that. Hesitantly she smiled, poking me. “Pretty sure you have to actually win before you can do more, King.”
I smiled too—the smartass—but sobered quickly. Correcting myself. “Tobemore.”
She stood quietly for a moment. Then she turned to me. “I can’t be the one to change your mind about yourself. That’s somethingonly you can do. But I can tell you that from where I stand you are way past more. You are not only the best player I’ve ever been on the court with, but you’ve got good eyes, good sense for the game and great delivery when talking to others. You’re a team player, but you’re competitive. You’re a good sport but you’re vicious. You’re a good captain. No question. People look up to you. Not just fans who wish they knew you but don’t know why. But people in your life right now look up to you. Hell, I admire you when I wanted absolutely nothing to do with your smug ass telling me what to do on court. You have something that makes people listen and believe. So I don’t know what more you’re looking for. From what I see, you’re already the most.”
“Six?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I hug you?”
“Now?” She looked around herself. We were already garnering a few curious looks from our teammates, but they’d been curious about us for a while now. I didn’t care.
“Yeah, Six. Now.”
One more look up to my face, and the girl just opened her arms. “Okay.”
I didn’t wait for her to change her mind. I stepped around her, my arms circling her slim waist and anchoring her to me. She was tall, but she still rose to her toes so that she could wrap her slender arms around my neck, anchoring me right back to her.
I let my face fall into her shoulder. Breathed her in. Leaned on her. Stole every ounce of quiet, gentle strength she was willing to give me. Because even though the waves of my emotions were rocking me in such high and low places, I was still expected to show up here—we all were. She got that. Which is probably why she was giving this to me right now, in the middle of a crowded gym.
Hands plastered on her back, I felt the strong story of her owncareer in the muscle along her body. The evidence that this girl had the potential to know me. To understand. I burrowed deeper into that thought, still not feeling up to letting her go.
With her arms around me, one of her hands on my neck rubbing soft fingers into my hair and the other firmly latched onto my shoulder, she didn’t squirm or pull away. She was normally so wishy-washy when it had to do with anything other than basketball. But now, and back in my living room too, she showed that when it counted she could be just as unwavering as she was with a ball in her hands.
My breath shuddered and I cursed myself to pull my shit together. She just moved her fingers in small circles wherever they touched my skin.
“Why’d you ask this time?” she said, her voice getting lost in my body where her face was smashed.
“What?”
“Why’d you ask if you could hug me instead of just doing it?”
“Because,” I breathed. “I wanted you to hug me back.”
She breathed out a soft laugh. “I don’t think I could ever not hug you back. Especially when you’re being like this.”
“Like what?” I asked. “What am I being like?”
“Sweet,” she paused. “Likeyou.”
