Hoops Holiday (Hoops 2.50)

“I’m moving to California,” I say abruptly. Her eyes widen before she catches the reaction and controls it.

“Oh, I thought . . .” She stops the nervous tugging of the sheets. “Oh.”

“I told you my ex moved there. She keeps making it harder for me to see Kiera.” I sigh wearily and scrub a hand over my face. “She’s just pissed because she didn’t get more out of the divorce.”

“They say it’s cheaper to keep her,” Avery says with a cynical twist of her lips.

“Then ‘they’ don’t have my lawyer or my pre-nup.” We share a smile that comes a little easier to us both. “At the last minute, she pulled some crap so I have to go to LA to see my baby girl for Christmas, when she was supposed to come here for two weeks.”

“I’m sorry, Deck.”

“Yeah. So am I. It’ll just be simpler for me to live out there.” I hesitate for a moment before sitting on the edge of the bed, within touching distance if she decides to touch me. “I’ve been offered a front office position with that new expansion team the San Diego Waves. President of Basketball Operations, with the possibility of partial ownership eventually.”

Ever the journalist, curiosity and questions stack up in Avery’s wide eyes.

“And we are off the record, by the way,” I remind her. “This isn’t public yet.”

“All right, all right. I get it.” She pulls her legs up to her chest, resting her chin on sheet-covered knees. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks. It works for me personally, so I can be closer to my daughter, and professionally because it’s the kind of opportunity I’ve wanted, but didn’t think I’d get for at least another five years.”

“That’s great, Deck.” Her face has become the mask she showed me when we first started hosting her show together three weeks ago. “I’m happy for you.”

“I don’t want you to be happy for me, Avery. I want you to tell me that what we had the last twenty-four hours is enough to build on. That when I go away, we can try to build more.”

“You saw me last night.” Her mouth is the only thing wavering in her obstinate expression. “You know I’m a mess.”

“We’re all a mess.” I scoot closer, palm her jaw and press my forehead to hers. “We’ll figure it out.”

She shakes her head against mine, not breaking the contact between our skin.

“There are some things I need to figure out on my own. Questions not just about Will, but about myself that I need to answer.” She mirrors my touch, her hand cupping my jaw. “As much as I enjoyed last night, as much as I . . .”

She swallows, shutting her eyes.

“Deck, deep down you know I’m not ready.”

I glance up to find her cheeks wet again, tears leaking from under her closed eyelids. I want to deny it. As much as I want to convince her that she is ready; that I’ll make her ready, or be ready enough for both of us, I know it doesn’t work that way. I still hear her sobs and feel her shaking in my arms, recounting the horror of finding Will in their apartment. I still hear her agony over his last words to her.

“Okay. I accept that you’re not ready. I have to go to California, and I know you have to stay here in New York.”

I dip my head to kiss her, coaxing her lips open for a languorous dueling of tongues that quickly ignites fire in me. In Avery, too, if her nails digging into my back are any indication.

I give her hair a gentle tug until she’s looking deeply, directly into my eyes.

“The time may not be right, but we feel right, Ave. Tell me you see how right we feel together.”

Her nod is the only answer she offers, sniffing at the fresh tears I know aren’t all for Will. Aren’t all for her. I know that some of them are for me. I bend to kiss her cheeks, darting my tongue out to gather the salt of her tears.

“Hey, look at me.” I gently angle her face up so we have no choice but to see one another. “Promise me that when you have the answers you’re looking for, that when you’re ready, you’ll find me.”

She leans deeper into me, uncaring that the sheet drops, baring her stubble-burned breasts. She takes my mouth in a kiss that is part consolation, part declaration. She eases away, licking her lips like she can taste me there.

“That’s a promise I plan to keep.”

13

Avery