Page 49 of Full Court Love
Before closing the door, she turns our direction and smirks.
Oh, that’s why we didn’t meet her. We already know her.
Sasha–I just didn’t recognize her in gaudy business attire.
I knew she had some sort of job here, but I guess I assumed it was basically fake. Like a way to pay her without actually having her work. But she just walked into a conference room full of people in control of this advertising campaign like she was the boss.
Because she is.
Because she’s the heir to the company.
Basically, my fate is in the hands of Sasha at this moment. And so is Lucy’s. And there’s not a person in the world who would love to see our lives ruined more than Sasha freaking Pierson.
CHAPTER 21
LUCY
It’s been a few weeks since the promo shoot with Pierson Automotive, and relatively nothing has happened. I mean, other than Jordan and I both getting awesome new cars. I know basically zero about cars, but apparently this is a good one. All I know is mine is a really pretty shade of olive green and I recognize this makes me sound like the dumb girl that I am–“Ooh, look, a pretty color”—but I just can’t get myself to care about cars.
I’m sorry, but it gets me from point A to point B.
And it’s green.
That’s all I know.
To be totally honest, they could’ve saved the money by just giving us one car between the two of us because we’re basically together every minute that we aren’t in class or at the arena. And most days, we even drive to workouts at the arena together.
When six a.m. rolls around and it’s time for weightlifting, I can count on Jordan being pulled up to the curb outside my house, usually with a muffin or bagel for me. His apartment is closer to the Cozy Cow, so he frequently picks up morning snacks on his way to get me. I munch mymuffin and hold his hand as we soak in the quiet of the morning.
He’s a little bit unreal. The selflessness he displays on a daily basis is borderline suspicious, yet he never shows any signs of resentment or expects anything in return. It’s unconditional–maybe not love yet, but definitely unconditionallike. Is that a thing? It should be, because that’s my life.
I’m becoming incredibly spoiled, and I know it. I genuinely didn’t believe guys like this existed. Oraguy–I don’t need multiple. I just need him. Even if he’s seemed slightly off ever since the shoot. He doesn’t talk about it, but in moments of quiet, I catch him nervously fidgeting or staring off into space with a sad expression blanketing his otherwise gorgeous face.
Not that he’s not gorgeous when he’s sad, because he definitely is.
Still incredibly model-like.
It’s just hard to enjoy it when I know he’s in pain. Or a better way to describe it is that he’s anticipating the pain that he believes is inevitable. He’s not in it quite yet, but he might as well be. Kind of like how the anticipation of getting a shot at the doctor’s is often worse than the actual shot itself.
The tough part is, I don’t know how bad this shot is going to be. And neither does he. Or if the shot is coming at all. There’s a good chance that it won’t, considering the deal that Pierson agreed to. But with Sasha being a wild card of bitterness, you never know.
So, I’ve decided that I am the official Czar of Distraction. These last few weeks have been idyllic, aside from the looming threats of Sasha and Jordan’s father casting a shadow over almost everything we do.
Which sounds morbid.
But we’ve still tried to find joy in it.
We’ve baked a million new recipes and gone bowling at the hole-in-the-wall place connected to a grungy bar here.Every day, I’m brainstorming potential new ways to both distract Jordan and keep his spirits up. Most nights, we just end up watching reruns ofThe OfficeorSuits–Jordan’s choice, because he wants to be a lawyer–and eating whatever we baked that day. It’s a pretty good life.
It’s also no secret that make-out sessions are really the best diversion from negativity, so we employ that regularly. And every time he smiles down at me when we finally come up for air, I forget any anxiety I was carrying. Our tactics are working in creating on-court success as well. We’re both having the best seasons of our lives.
I just set a record for winning Player of the Week more times than anyone in our conference’s history, and Jordan has won it a few times now too–which is something he’s never done before. I’m definitely more excited for his awards than I am for my own.
The best was when we won it the same week and to celebrate, both our teams carried the two of us around the arena on their shoulders. They chanted “love and basketball” while they did it. Well, everyone except Sasha, who suddenly really needed to take a phone call.
Despite my intense embarrassment and the cheesiness of the whole ordeal, it’s now one of my favorite memories. I just really hope it never happens again.
I lug my giant duffle bag into the arena and finally give in to just dragging it on the floor. We are finally done with road trips for a few weeks. Both our team and the men’s team have one game left in conference play this weekend. Then we get a week off before the conference tournament.