Page 44 of Scoring Chance

“Yes, friendship. You know I’m not ready yet.”

“That’s the story you’re sticking to?”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s not a story.”

“Then go out with one of the basketball guys.”

“No!”

“Why not?” she teased.

“Because that’s unprofessional. I can’t date a client.”

She paused, holding back a smile. “You do know how Erik and I met, right?”

“That’s...different.”

“Why?”

“You’re a partner here. I’m just a trainer. And you said you dated after he was done with treatment. I don’t think the team would appreciate me dating a player either.”

“Oh honey.” She sighed condescendingly. “They don’t care about much as long as they’re winning games.”

That might be true but it didn’t mean I should cross any professional boundaries.

“Just admit it,” she pressed.

“No. There’s nothing to admit.”

“You’re lying to yourself.” She threw a knowing look my way before pivoting and leaving me alone to stew.

I pushed the doors open and hurried to my car. As much as I wanted there to be something between me and Derrek, we were only friends and that’s what I needed right now. I really liked that we could talk to each other and hang out without pressure. It was easy with him. Maybe there could be something more there eventually, but it wasn’t just up to me. At least not entirely.

Even when he asked me to be his date to the team fundraiser, it seemed like a friend invitation. He never made a move or pushed for more. I was clearly in the friend zone with him. The guys on the team and the Pride could think whatever they wanted, but they didn’t know how we felt.

He was easily the most attractive friend I’d ever had, and I’d never had the same desire to kiss any of my other friends, but that didn’t mean much if he didn’t feel the same.

I parked in the underground garage below the basketball arena and took a cleansing breath before grabbing my purse and heading for the marked door Madi told me to use. I walked through the straight hall with pictures of various players throughout the years until I reached an open door.

I knocked on the frame and peeked in. A middle aged man with an athletic build and thinning chestnut hair glanced up.

“Hi, you must be Amelia.” His open smile instantly put me at ease.

“Yes, are you Darrin?”

He moved away from the table he was arranging things on and offered his hand. “I am. Thanks so much for coming on short notice. I thought I was going to be on my own, but the guys all raved about how great you are and asked me to get you here.”

I was flattered by his words, and that the players thought to recommend me. “I really appreciate the opportunity.”

“The guys that need to be taped up should start trickling in soon. We’ll tag team that, and once the game starts, I'll be on the floor. You’ll stay back here for anyone that comes in injured.”

I nodded and surveyed the room, getting familiar with where supplies were located.

“Between quarters and at halftime be ready to ice and retape.”

“Got it.” I’d done this for teams back in college, but something about working with an NBA team made everything feel ten times more intense. These were professional athletes. An injury could cost them their career. I had to be meticulous and do my absolute best for them.

He handed me a purple polo with a smile. “This is for you.”