Leanna nods but stays silent.

  “And then on to Oklahoma City after?” Eva shrugs. “I forget. It’s hard to keep up.”

  Realizing I’m still shredding my bread into little pieces, I immediately stop. “I’ll stay in California.”

  Her brows arch. “Oh yeah? Not serious then?”

  “Eva,” Leanna warns.

  Eva groans. “What? Jesus. Is blondie here incapable of speaking for herself?”

  “My name is Raelynn,” I correct her with a hard tone.

  “Rae-lynn, holy smokes. Where did you get a name like that?” She peruses me from top to bottom as she speaks then holds up her hand once she lands on my cowboy boots. “Wait, wait. Don’t tell me—”

  “Texas,” we say at the same time.

  She grins. “No shit. I’m from San Antonio.”

  “Then you must be secretly rooting for the Spurs.”

  She winks. “Don’t tell my boyfriend.”

  “I’m actually from Pine Hill, right near Maken.”

  “Are you really?! I’ve driven through Maken a thousand times. Didn’t know people really lived around there,” she teases.

  I laugh, and Leanna leans forward.

  “Oh so now you’re playing nice?” she asks.

  Eva winks and sips her champagne. “Just for tonight.”

  “Well grab a chair already,” Leanna says, pointing to a free one nearby. “The third quarter is going to start soon, and you’re blocking our view.”

  Eva pulls a third chair up on the other side of mine then retrieves champagne for Leanna and me from a passing waiter.

  “Here.”

  “Oh, thanks.”

  I hold it out, unsure of what to do with it.

  “It won’t bite,” Eva teases.

  I roll my eyes and take a sip. It’s ice cold and delicious. Unfortunately, I can’t drink much of it or I’ll be in trouble after the game. It’s hard enough navigating the LA bus system stone-cold sober.

  I figure one glass won’t hurt me though, and something tells me I shouldn’t turn down Eva’s fleeting bout of kindness, so I drink it slowly as we chat. Eva and I have more in common than I first assumed. She was a bookworm in high school as well—“dorky,” she says, though both Leanna and I agree that’s impossible. Looking at her now, I can’t believe she could have been anything other than a beauty queen. She swears she didn’t come into her looks until she was older, after high school, when she moved to California to start college at UCLA.

  “A talent scout found me one day while I was window shopping, and the rest is history.” She shrugs.

  Leanna leans forward. “I hate to inflate Eva’s already massive ego, but she’s actually a pretty popular model. She just got back from Milan fashion week where she opened for Moschino and closed for Fendi.”

  I know next to nothing about fashion and even I recognize those brands.

  “That’s really cool.”

  She sips her champagne like it’s no big deal.

  “Tell that to my parents. Even with the amount I make on campaigns and shoots, they’re still pissed I dropped out of college. They’re both lawyers, and it’s almost embarrassing to them to have a daughter whose job it is to look pretty.”

  Impossible as it may be, I actually feel bad for Eva in that moment. I see a fleeting moment of humanity behind her glacial green eyes, and I aim a supportive smile her way.

  She shakes her head and downs the rest of her champagne before changing the subject altogether.

  “So are you guys going to the after-party for Brent’s birthday?” Eva asks, wiggling her brows suggestively at me. “I mean, you’re not exactly dressed for it, but it’s not like it matters. With that face, no one’s paying attention to your clothes, believe me.”

  I blush and shake my head. “Probably not. I mean…I don’t even know who Brent is, so I doubt I’m invited.”

  She grins. “Brent’s my boyfriend, so if I say you’re invited, you’re invited.”

  “I promised my nanny I’d be back right after the game,” Leanna says, and I suddenly feel like the biggest idiot on the planet.

  With everything else going on, I haven’t asked Leanna about her baby girl. In fact, I almost forgot for a moment that she was pregnant back when she was in Texas. She looks amazing now, toned and slim.

  She meets my eyes and grins before grabbing her phone. It takes her half a second to pull up a whole album of photos of her daughter. She passes me the phone and tells me to scroll.

  “That’s Amara. She just turned one last month.”

  Amara is such an adorable little baby, pudgy-cheeked and beautiful. She looks so much like Leanna, and when I tell her, she beams proudly.

  “Yeah, she could be my twin. I wasn’t sure how Trey’s family would take that. I knew deep down, they were a bit nervous to have a mixed-race grandbaby. Not that they’re narrowminded or anything,” she adds hastily. “I think I was just worried they would want their grandchild to look like them, to fit in seamlessly with their family.” She shakes her head. “I shouldn’t have worried though. Amara is so loved. I swear when we’re all together, I barely get to touch her. She’s passed from one person to the next, smothered with kisses. Trey’s mom is especially helpful.”

  “Okay, booooo,” Eva says, waving her hands like a referee. “No we are not lapsing into baby talk. Yes, Amara is cute as shit, but put the photos away, call your nanny, and tell her you’ll be late tonight—you’re going out!”

  When Leanna starts to protest, Eva holds up her hand. “Come on. You never go out after the games! You and Trey are like Mr. and Mrs. In Bed By Nine PM. Don’t you want to show Raelynn a good time? Besides, if you don’t come with us, she’ll be left alone with me, and we both know that won’t end well for her. I’m very good at encouraging people to misbehave. She’ll end up dancing on a table or arrested or something.”

  I’m not exactly sure how I end up at the club alongside Leanna and Eva, but it definitely had something to do with Eva’s top-notch persuasion skills, paired with that first glass of champagne I had back in the private suite. It went down a little too easy, and then there was another ready to take its place as soon as I finished. Who was I to turn down free drinks? Kayla would be so proud of me.

  To be clear, this wasn’t really part of my original plan. That was very simple: I was going to show up at the game, watch Ben, reconnect with Leanna, and then schlep back to the bus stop in front of the Staples Center and return to my bed, all nice and cozy and tucked in by midnight. Then Eva finally convinced Leanna to go to Brent’s birthday party, and Leanna said if she was getting dragged out to a club, there was no way I was escaping it. To be sure I made it, she insisted I ride with her, which worked in my favor considering I would have had to take the bus otherwise.

  Though I’m nervous about how this will all go, I reassure myself with the fact that I wouldn’t have even had a chance to talk to Ben if I’d followed my original plan. As soon as the final buzzer blared, Los Angeles fans went wild, and Ben disappeared through the dark tunnel toward the locker room. Leanna told me how it usually works: they go and shower, dress, and then they’re required to do a bunch of postgame press. Depending on the game, it can last a while, which is why most of the time she doesn’t wait for Trey.

  “Ben and Trey can just meet us at the club,” she told me as security escorted us down to her car where it waited in the private parking lot.

  She assured me she texted Trey about our plan, but I worry Trey didn’t pass on the message to Ben because he’s not here at the club. I look out at the crowd in the VIP area. Most of the other players have already arrived, including Eva’s boyfriend, Brent, and Trey.

  Much to my relief, Trey was nothing but kind to me when he walked in and found me sitting with his wife. He gave me a friendly hug and asked me how I was doing. I haven’t talked to him much since then because we’re all sitting on a long bench that runs along the back wall of the VIP section and Leanna is the one sitting beside me, chatting my ear off about their house renovations and anything and everything having to do with Amara. I know her favorite food (peaches) and her favorite book (Chicka Chicka Boom Boom) and just how long it took her to sleep train (three weeks) and which method she used (something called graduated extinction). Though it’s slightly more detail than I need to know, I’m actually glad she’s carrying on about Amara because I’m too distracted to be much of a conversationalist at the moment.

  The birthday festivities are well underway. Every ten minutes, it seems like the club produces something new to woo us with. There’s been a huge cake and sparklers, dancers, and round upon round of drinks. Now, there’s new commotion near the entrance of the VIP section, and I tilt my head to try to see around the crowd to figure out what’s going on. I recognize Anthony and roll my eyes when I see he’s arriving with a harem of women.

  He has an arm slung over two of them, one on each side of him, and they cling to him with self-satisfied smiles. The others hang around as if desperate for any little piece of attention they can get.

  People at the party all react with excitement, like they haven’t seen him in years. They gather to take their turns clapping his hands and tugging him in for a chest bump. He starts joking around and dancing to the pulse-pounding music, and everyone laughs. Then he shakes off the attention, grabs one of the girls, and turns to where I’m sitting with Leanna and Trey.

  His smile immediately drops. He looks completely shocked to see me here in the club, and well…I’m a little shocked myself.

  “No shit! Look who we have here.”

  His attention draws everyone else’s, and I fidget in my seat as all eyes fall on me. I already feel like an outsider. I’ve never been to a party like this. Everyone seems to know what’s up, know each other. They’re all dressed to the nines, and meanwhile, I’m still wearing my crop top and denim cutoffs.

  “Little Miss Raelynn. My hero,” Anthony says, walking over to me until I have to crane my neck to look up at him. “Did you come to our game tonight?”

  I nod. “Ben invited me.”

  The news shocks him. “Oh did he? So my man took my advice. Glad to hear it. You gonna put him out of his misery and marry him now?”

  My eyes practically bug out of my head.

  Anthony’s lopsided grin stretches wider. “I’m kidding.” He looks to the seat beside mine that was blessedly empty before now. “Mind if I…?”

  Before I answer, he’s already taking a seat. The girl who was with him doesn’t stick around though. She says something about grabbing a drink then disappears back out into the crowd. It’s getting so packed in here, it’s hard to see the entrance of the VIP section. I’m worried Ben will show up and I won’t see him.

  “You don’t have to worry. Your boy Ben is coming.”

  I flick my gaze to him. “Is he?”

  He shrugs. “Told me he was, but he had another interview after ours was finished. He always has to stay later than the rest of us. They want every piece of Ben they can get.”

  I nod and look up as a waiter appears, handing Anthony a drink.

  “Thanks. Could I get some water too? Raelynn, you want anything?”

  I hold up my water. “I’m fine, thank you.”

  He thanks the server then leans into me. “Don’t get me wrong, I love to party and drink as much as the rest of them, but not when we’re in the middle of the season like this. I drag on the court when I drink too much, and Ben chews my ass out.”

  I smile, imagining it.

  “Something tells me you could use a good ass-chewing.”

  He grins deviously just as a few of the girls he arrived with find him.

  “Anthony, what are you doin’ over here, baby? Come dance!”

  He looks to me and I wave him on, knowing if he doesn’t leave with them, they’ll just keep pestering him.

  He gets dragged out into the thick of the party, and I laugh watching him get swarmed. No wonder these guys have egos the size of California.

  When we first arrived, the VIP area was already packed, but now I swear every minute, a new crowd of people rushes in, adding to the crush of bodies and overcrowding the small space. There were cocktail tables in the center of the room earlier, but those have been pushed to the side now. People dance and sing and accidentally bump into me, laugh, and then shout apologies over the music. When I glance over, Leanna and Trey have their heads bent together. Trey gives her a kiss on the cheek, and I slide off the bench to disappear into the crowd and give them some privacy.

  I have no real plan. I just feel antsy, sitting there, waiting for Ben. Even though Anthony confirmed it, a part of me still worries he won’t come. I can’t picture him in a setting like this, drinking and partying, laughing and carefree. I slide through the dense crowd, smile politely when a guy tries to draw me into conversation, but then I keep it moving. I’m trying to make it closer to the entrance so I can see Ben when he arrives.

  Suddenly, what little light there was in the club goes out altogether, replaced by a red glow that tints the room and everyone in it. I look down at my arms bathed in seductive crimson light just as a fast-paced club beat starts to blare from the speakers. The energy in the room ratchets up another notch and I feel the bass in my chest, the music pulsing through me. The crowd goes crazy and bodies crush me from all sides. I spin in a circle, searching faces, looking for a familiar set of piercing brown eyes. Another spin and the red room blurs. Ben, where are you?

  Why aren’t you here?

  Suddenly a hand touches my lower back, and I whip around to see an unfamiliar guy trying to get my attention.

  “He’s looking for you!” he shouts over the music.

  I frown then follow his gaze, and my heart lurches in my chest. Through the pulsating crowd, between bodies that seem constantly in motion, I find Ben standing in front of Leanna and Trey, staring straight at me.

  The hand on my back slips away as our eyes lock.

  His gaze is an intimate caress, so all-consuming it borders on inappropriate. It’s like he’s eating me up from a distance, and I flush from head to toe, grateful he’s too far away to take notice, grateful more so that the light in here already casts me in red, so what’s a little more blush?

  I wanted him to show up so desperately it takes me a moment to fully register that he’s here in person again after so long. I took the other day for granted. He surprised me by showing up on campus, and I barely had my wits about me. Now, I have enough good sense to feel a trickle of fear as he starts to cut through the crowd to get to me. I resist the overwhelming urge to run, and instead, I brace myself in my spot, waiting with bated breath. My body vibrates with anticipation, as if his journey to get to me has been years in the making. There’s no smile on his face, no joy. His brown eyes barely show relief once he’s upon me, reaching out to take my hand in a tight grip as if he’s scared the crowd’s going to swallow me up at any moment.

  I don’t get the chance to properly take him in before he steps closer. His size affords him more space in a setting like this. It’s easy for him to carve out enough room for the two of us, using his body to block me from everyone who surrounds us. His arms circle me, cocooning us as I look up at him, dragging my attention quickly across his lips before my tongue darts out to wet mine.

  I hear murmurs around us. His name is on everyone’s lips, but his attention is down on me.

  “You’re going to get crushed in this crowd.”

  He looks devilish in this light. Haunting.

  “I was holding my own,” I say, forcing my attention away from his mouth. “Besides, I was only out here because I was trying to find you.”

  It’s so loud we can barely hear each other. He leans down and gathers me closer, his mouth falling right beside my ear as he says, “You’re wearing my number.”

  I glance down at my shirt and feign ignorance. “Is this your number?”

  He sees right through my act, and the tiny smirk he wipes away sends butterflies swarming through my belly.

  There’s a mountain of history that threatens to rise between us, blocking our way forward. We have so much to talk about, to catch up on and explain. Apologies need to be made and accepted, and yet we somehow both silently agree to pivot around those hard discussions for the time being, to linger in denial for just a little while longer. I reach up to press my palms to his chest as he grips my waist. His large hands seem to fit around me so easily, his touch familiar in a way that makes my throat tighten with emotion.

  “It looks good with the shorts,” he says, looking down, not the least bit shy about checking me out.

  “And what do you think of my fancy club shoes?”

  I tap the heels of my boots together, and he smiles.

  “You look sexy as hell.”

  Jesus.

  Somehow I wasn’t prepared for a blatant compliment, desire spoken out loud.

  It was only a few days ago that he and I were complete strangers, and now we stand chest to chest in a dark club, touching like we belong to one another.

  A couple of girls laugh as they pass by and stumble into us by accident. Ben’s hand slides higher up my waist, barely underneath my crop top. His palm against my bare skin sends a shiver down my spine, and I watch him take notice. It’s like my every desire is written across my face, visible to anyone.

  Can you see what you do to me, Ben?

  Without asking, he slides one arm around my lower back and guides me away from the center of the party, back toward a dark corner.

  “Don’t you want to say hi to your friends?” I ask as he ignores the people very obviously trying to get his attention. They tap his shoulder, shout his name, beg for attention.

  “No,” he says, keeping his hands on me.

  I laugh. “Not very polite of you.”

  His dark eyes glint in the red light, suddenly seeming untamed.

  “You shouldn’t let me touch you like this in public.”

  I frown and drop my hands on top of his, making sure he doesn’t think to draw them back. “Why?”