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“Nah, I don’t want to forget about this. That’s a good-lookin’ girl, and she keeps sneakin’ peeks over here the way you’re sneakin’ peeks at her,” he says. “I think we need to do somethin’ about this situation.”
I give Gabe a look and shake my head. I’m not going to lie—knowing she’s stealing glances over here pleases me. It makes me think that maybe the connection I felt with her yesterday wasn’t all in my head. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to push it all away.
She’s a gorgeous woman, but I can’t afford to be distracted. I’m learning a new offensive system, and the season is going to be here before we know it, so I need to put all my focus and energy into getting into the rhythm. Not chasing a girl.
The problem is, deep down, I know she’s not just any girl.
“You’re ridiculous,” I tell him. “There is no situation.”
“Oh, there’s a situation, even if you’re going to pretend there ain’t one.”
“We’ve got a lot of work to do before the season starts. Let’s just focus on that.”
“Please. You know Holman’s system from bein’ with him in Dallas. Stop makin’ excuses.”
I laugh. “Why are you so invested in my love life?”
“Because I’m an old married dude,” he says. “I gotta live vicariously.”
“Old? Dude, you’re thirty-one. You’re two years older than me.”
“I’m still married with kids and still have a need to live vicariously.”
We share a laugh, and I watch as Graham walks away from Bailey. Just then, Eric steps over and starts chatting her up. A frown crosses my face, and I feel an inexplicable flash of jealousy shoot through my veins like lightning. He says something that makes her laugh, and that flash of jealousy burns even hotter inside me, my hands reflexively balling into fists.
“Yeah, there’s no situation there at all,” Gabe says.
I force my hands open and push the jealousy out of my system. It’s a stupid reaction to have. She’s not mine and is free to talk to anybody she wants to. I just don’t want her talking to that prick. Not wanting to see them talking together, I force myself to turn away from her.
“Come on,” I say. “We need to run some drills.”
“Heads up,” Gabe says quietly.
Glancing over my shoulder, I see Eric walking over to me, a smug, cocky look on his face. I roll my eyes and try to ignore him. Eric steps in front of me, blocking my way, staring at me with an arrogance that’s edged with anger.
“At some point, you’re going to need to realize you’re going to be my backup,” he says. “I mean, you know that, right?”
“Yeah, I didn’t come here to be a backup.”
“Maybe not,” Eric replies, “but that’s what you’re going to be. The sooner you and the coaches know that, the better for everybody.”
“Walk away, man,” Gabe says to him. “Go work out with your homies.”
“Shut up, big man. This don’t concern you,” Eric snaps.
“I’m makin’ it my business, little man.”
At seven-one, Gabe looms large over Eric’s six-three frame. They step closer to one another, scowls on their faces, and activity on the floor stops as all eyes turn their way. The air is suddenly crackling with tension, and with everybody standing around gawking, I feel like we’re on a fucking playground waiting for guys to fight.
“This is fucking stupid,” I say and physically step between them.
Eric puts both his hands on my chest and gives me a hard shove. A look of surprise flashes across his face when I don’t move an inch. He recovers quickly and puts that cocky expression back on his face. I can’t help but see a new wariness behind his eyes as he seems to be reassessing me.
“Don’t put your fucking hands on me again,” I snarl. “You’re right. We’re going to need to show the coaches what they have so they dole out the minutes appropriately.”
“Got something in mind?”
“I do. Let’s shoot. Mid-ranges and triples. Ten of each,” I tell him.
