“What can I do?” I asked in earnest.

  She turned her honey light eyes on me. “Do?” she echoed.

  “To make this better.”

  Eva’s features fell. “Nothing. Until I give up this ‘hobby,’” she used finger quotes, “I won’t be good enough for the Montgomerys. They don’t care about the gender of the person I date, which I’m so thankful for,” she qualified, “but they do care about my career. And it’s not even about the money!” She threw her hands up in frustration. “I earned millions in NIL money last year, and they were still annoyed that I planned on entering the draft.”

  “What matters to them if it’s not money or your happiness?” I questioned.

  “Class, manners, gentility,” she listed off. “My mom might as well be a Southern debutante. She won’t be happy until I’m some Clair Huxtable lookalike with relaxed hair and a pearl necklace.” She made a frustrated noise. “And it’s so hypocritical. I know she worked her ass off getting to where she is. Being a federal judge is no joke; that doesn’t happen by accident. But my work ethic means nothing to her. I throw myself into everything I do, but it’s never enough to impress her.”

  Anything I could say felt inadequate. I settled for what was the most honest and straightforward: “I’m sorry.”

  I reached across the mattress and pulled her into a hug. “You’re amazing, and if they can’t see that, it’s their loss.”

  Eva pulled back slightly, looking into my eyes. Her voice filled with emotion. “I just want them to see how happy I am.”

  I smiled and leaned in to kiss her gently. “I’m happy that you’re happy.”

  We stayed like that for a moment, savoring the closeness and comfort of each other’s presence. I shifted slightly, feeling the plush softness beneath me.

  “Why is your mattress so much more comfortable than mine?”

  “Because it is,” Eva said. “I have that internet mattress company as a sponsor. They shipped me a new mattress when I first got to Boston.”

  I looked down at the bed as if I would be able to tell the difference through the fitted sheet. “This isn’t the same bed as mine?”

  “Nope.”

  “Geez. You really do have that NIL money.” I intended my words to be teasing, but they sounded a little bitter, even to my ears.

  “Big endorsements usually go to girls who look like you, Lex, not me,” she observed. “You might think I’m out here selling myself to the highest bidder, but I’m trying to pave the way for the next little Black girl who balls out.”

  “It would be nice if the next girl up could show her authentic self to the world.”

  She pulled away, her face incredulous. “You really want to start this when you’re in bed with me?”

  “I’m sorry. No. I don’t know why I said that.”

  “Yes, you do.” Instead of growing angry, Eva’s words were soft and contrite. “You want what you deserve—your girlfriend to publicly acknowledge you.”

  “I’m trying not to be selfish. I really am,” I insisted. “I know this hasn’t been easy on you either.”

  Her hands found me beneath the blankets. She nuzzled her nose against the side of my face. “I appreciate you being patient with me.”

  I sighed and turned into her touch. Her lips sought out mine.

  There were so many occasions where I wanted to argue that if she would just Come Out that we could be the next queer power couple—Megan and Sue and all that—but this wasn’t my decision to make. No finely crafted PowerPoint presentation was going to convince her differently.

  Eva played with my hands. She kissed each fingertip, one at a time, before turning my hand over and stroking my palm. Her short nails lightly scratched me.

  Her fingertips trailed down the raised, pink scar on my wrist. The scar was the only physical leftover from the surgery that had realigned the bones to ensure proper healing. She brought my wrist to her mouth and pressed a small kiss to the jagged, pink line.

  “It could have been worse,” I wagered. “There was no major ligament tearing, which would have meant a lot more rehab.”

  Eva continued to look introspective. “We wouldn’t have been drafted to the same team without this injury. I would have still gone to Boston, but you would have gotten picked by another team in the first round.”

  “You seem awfully sure that you would have still gone number one overall.”

  Eva’s lips twisted into a smirk. “Sorry, baby.”

  Chapter

  Thirty

  “Lex, you must feel good about your contribution today.”

  The Shamrocks media room was filled with journalists from around the league and local media personalities. Laminated press passes hung from lanyards around their necks. Photographers captured images of the three-woman panel at the front of the room while raised cellphones recorded the postgame interview.

  I leaned closer to the microphone set out on the table before me. “It was a great team effort today. It’s always nice to get in the individual stat column, but even better to get that team W.”

  It had been another good team win at home. After a stagnant start to the season, we’d managed to string together a number of consecutive wins in the first week of August. I’d also recorded my most playing time yet. Coach Spirit and the rest of the Shamrocks staff seemed to be trusting me more and more, little by little. With a month and a half left in the regular season, I was looking forward to the final push before the playoffs.

  “We’ve got an elite group of women on this team—the roster is stacked, top to bottom,” I continued. “The coaching staff has been making great decisions, sticking with whomever has the hot hand. All of that is helping build team chemistry and, ultimately, team success.”

  Coach Cartwright sat at the other end of the media table. “I’m particularly proud of how Lex contributed on the defensive side of the ball today,” she praised. “That doesn’t show up on a stat sheet, but you could really see how she frustrated the other team’s players.”

  “Like a gnat at a barbecue,” Eva teased.

  A quiet but collective chuckle rippled among the media members.

  Eva sat beside me. She’d had a particularly strong game, efficient and effective from the three-point line, while also recording half a dozen rebounds.

  I observed her as she fielded multiple questions from the media. She was deferential in her answers, quick to deflect individual praise in favor of team accomplishments. Her golden irises reflected brightly beneath the room’s overhead lights. She was charming. She was gracious. She was glowing.

  Eva discreetly nudged me under the table.

  I blinked several times, realizing I’d spaced out. “Sorry, what?”

  A woman standing among the press pool stared at me expectantly. “I asked about the status of your injury? Any lingering aches and pains?”

  I self-consciously curled my right wrist. “I’m extremely grateful for the world-class care I’ve received from our training staff. From the coaches to our physical trainers, they’ve all been key to getting me back on the court.”

  I waited for the inevitable follow-up question about sitting next to the woman responsible for that injury, but it never came.

  “And we’re grateful Lex has been patient about coming back,” Coach Cartwright added. “You saw her potential on display today. She doesn’t get rattled. Her basketball IQ is excellent. And her court vision is unparalleled. If you didn’t know Lex Bennet’s game before, you learned it today.”

  Beneath the table, Eva’s hand fell to my upper thigh. Her fingers flexed around my knee, and she squeezed.

  I burst through the double doors that led away from the media room. Adrenaline still surged through me from the game and from Coach Cartwright’s praise. I bounced on the balls of my feet. “Let’s go!”

  Eva strolled into the hallway behind me, far more reserved and subdued. “You’re wildin’, girl.”

  I spotted Coach Spirit in the hallway, leaning against a wall and examining the screen of his phone. “Nice game, Coach!” I called out.

  “Alexandra,” he evenly returned. His attention shifted to Eva, a step behind me. “Eva, can I talk to you for a second? In my office.”

  I looked to Eva to see if she wanted me to wait for her.

  She waved me off. “I’ll see you back at the apartment.”

  I was rinsing romaine lettuce in the kitchen sink when I heard the key in the apartment front door. I hummed a wordless tune as I worked. An unopened bottle of wine sat on the counter beside me, just in case Eva felt like celebrating.

  I turned off the faucet and dried my hands. “Salad and baked chicken breasts tonight?” I proposed. “It shouldn’t take too long to throw together.”

  Eva dropped onto a kitchen stool. “Sounds great.”

  I brought the cutting board over to the kitchen island so I could work and talk. I moved a sharpened knife through some vegetables for the salad.

  “What did Spirit want to see you about?”

  Eva stared straight ahead. “I … I’m getting traded. To Chicago.”

  I set the knife down and gripped the edge of the granite countertop. It felt like the floor had dropped out from under my feet.

  “What? You’re kidding me.”

  “Apparently the trade deadline was today. They hammered out a deal just in time.”

  She didn’t sound mad about it, only sad. And maybe a little numb.

  “This isn’t right,” I declared.

  “People get traded all the time, Lex. You had to know there was a chance this might happen.”

  “Yeah, but not to you!” I was emphatic. “You were the number one pick!”

  “Only because you were injured at the time.” She laughed, and I couldn’t for the life of me fathom what was funny. “This is what karma looks like, right?”

  “That feels like a lifetime ago,” I insisted. I continued to clench the side of the counter. I didn’t know what else to do with the shock and anger I was experiencing. “I could never hate you for that.”

  Her mouth quirked up, a little sad and wistful. “You’re sweet, Lex. Probably the sweetest person I know.”

  “I’m usually a brat,” I countered. “Just ask my family. You bring this out of me.”

  Eva wet her lips. “I told you not to fall in love with me.”

  “That’s not fair,” I shot back.

  She arched an eyebrow. “You didn’t let me finish.”

  I pressed my lips together. “Oh.”

  “I told you not to fall in love with me, but I never expected I would be the one doing the falling.” Her teeth tugged at her full, lower lip. “I still want this, Lex. I still want us.”

  “Nothing has to change. Nothing says we have to break up,” I assured her. I grasped for the right words. “We can handle a little distance. The season is only a few more months, and then we can be together again.”

  Eva hung her head. “But what about when a new season starts? And I’m in Chicago and you’re here?”

  I swallowed down emotions I wasn’t prepared to deal with. “Let’s worry about that when it happens.”

  Eva nodded slowly, but her eyes were distant. I could see the weight of uncertainty pressing down on her, and it twisted something in my chest. I wanted to take that pain away, to promise her that we would find a way through this, but how could I guarantee anything when I was unsure about it myself?

  “Look,” I said, stepping closer. “We’ll figure it out. We’ve both faced challenges before and come out on top. This is just another obstacle.”

  “Lex, I …” She hesitated, and I could see the conflict in her expression.

  The sound of her phone vibrating against the countertop broke the moment. She glanced at it, and I could see the emotion drain from her face. “I should take this.”

  “Sure.” I stepped back, feeling like I was losing ground.

  She swiped at the screen, her thumb hesitating for a moment before she answered. “Hello? ... Hi, Coach Stanley.” Her eyes trained on me. “Yeah. I’m excited, too.”

  I turned away, giving her space. I busied myself with the salad, but I couldn’t help eavesdropping just a little bit. I caught snippets of her conversation, but all I could focus on was her voice, strained and uncertain.

  When she finally hung up, I turned back to her. “Chicago?”

  She sighed, the weight of the world reflected in her eyes. “Yeah. They’re excited to have me on the team.”

  I offered her a sad smile of my own. “Of course they are. You’re a star.”

  “You’re trading Eva?”

  Coach Spirit looked up from his laptop screen. “Hello to you, too, Alexandra.”

  He snapped his laptop shut and motioned for me to come into his office.

  In all of my years as an athlete, I’d never talked back to or spoken out about a coach—not even when my dad had done a terrible job coaching my 3x3 team in middle school. But I couldn’t let Eva get traded without a fight. I had no influence, no clout, but at the very least I could vocalize my belief that this was bad for the team.

  “Not that this concerns you,” he qualified, “but Mya Brown has indicated this will be her final season. There’s a push from the ownership group that we give Mya the farewell tour she’s earned and deserved. And since Mya and Eva play the same position …” He trailed off.

  I shook my head in disbelief. “So Eva’s getting moved to Chicago so Mya gets more playing time? And ownership puts butts in seats so fans can see Mya play a final time.”

  “I’ve spoken to Eva about this,” Coach Spirit said. “She understands that this is a business, and there’s no hard feelings.”

  “But Eva’s the future of this franchise,” I challenged. “You said it yourself. She and I were going to be the foundation of something special! Stash her on the bench for a season if the owners want to give Mya her flowers so badly.”

  “She doesn’t get along with the other girls.”

  I was willing to overlook Coach Spirit calling us ‘girls’—he was only a man, after all. But the insinuation that the team’s refusal to embrace Eva was somehow her fault was too much.

  “Erica won’t pass to her because she’s jealous, and Dez only wants to shoot up logo threes,” I blustered. “You need to be running the offense through Eva and Briana.”

  Coach Spirit shrugged. “She’s Chicago’s problem now.”

  “Unbelievable,” I scoffed.

  “Tough decisions are made every day in this league, Alexandra. Chicago offered three future first-round picks for Eva. We couldn’t not entertain that kind of haul.”

  I felt deflated. I’d stormed into Coach Spirit’s office with such righteousness and indignation. But three first-round picks? I couldn’t logically argue against that.

  “Erica won’t be a problem anymore either,” he added, “because you’re our new starting point guard.”

  “Wh-what?”

  “Erica Williams was a temporary stop gap,” Coach Spirit told me. “The plan was always for you to take over once your wrist fully healed. How’s it doing, by the way?”

  I was too stunned to really absorb all that Coach Spirit was revealing. I flexed my right wrist. “I’m good to go.”

  Coach Spirit stood from his desk. “Listen, I appreciate you looking out for a fellow teammate, but leave the roster building to us. You just focus on being the best Lex Bennet you can be.”

  Eva had already started packing her designer luggage in my absence. I hovered in the open doorway of her bedroom. The contents of her closet had exploded across the room.

  “Boston is getting three first-round picks for you,” I announced.

  Eva sat back on her heels in front of one of her open suitcases. “I guess it’s flattering they didn’t just give me away.” She turned her eyes to me. “You talked to Coach Spirit?”

  I nodded. “I’m going to start.”

  “Start what?”

  “The next game, I guess.”

  “Wow. Congratulations, Lex. That’s really great.”

  I focused on a stubborn hangnail. “I hardly feel like celebrating.”

  There was a pause as I heard Eva rise from the floor. Her steps were light on the hardwood.

  “Don’t you do that.” Her voice was soothing. “One thing has nothing to do with the other. Me getting traded didn’t make room for you to start. You achieved that all on your own.”

  I frowned. She spoke good logic, but I couldn’t let myself see it that way.

  “I’m not stroking your ego because you’re good in bed,” she quipped.

  I released a sigh that I felt through my entire body.

  Eva touched the side of my face, compelling me to look up. Her eyes shifted as she regarded me. “Watch your back, okay? I don’t trust Erica not to do something in retaliation. And I won’t be here to be your bodyguard.”

  “Forget bodyguard,” I lamented. “Who’s going to braid my hair?”

  “Ah,” she clucked, “the truth comes out.”

  Breaking news tonight in the world of women’s basketball!

  In a blockbuster move just before the trade deadline, first-rounder Eva Montgomery is being sent to Chicago, a move that has everyone talking. Montgomery, who was the number one overall pick in this year’s draft, is already known for her game-changing presence on the court and her marketability off of it. The trade has sent shockwaves through the league with Boston unexpectedly parting ways with their promising star.

  Montgomery’s arrival in Chicago is expected to shake up the league, adding star power to an already formidable roster. With her scoring ability, defensive prowess, and undeniable leadership, Montgomery could be the final piece in Chicago’s quest for the title.

  Analysts are already buzzing with speculation: Will this be the move that pushes Chicago over the edge and into championship glory? One thing’s for sure—Chicago just became the team to watch. Stay tuned for what promises to be an electrifying push to the playoffs!