MILE HIGH

60

“And why not? You have no problem putting me in my place. Why does your mother get to walk all over you, and why did you let those girls in Nashville get away with it?”

She shyly pops her shoulders, keeping her eyes averted from mine.

“Stevie...” I coax.

She releases a deep, resigned exhale. “I don’t know. Sometimes when I don’t feel the greatest about myself, I let others treat me that way too.”

“You don’t let me treat you like that.” Not that I would.

“That’s because I always feel good around you.”

That makes my chest swell with pride. “People like that are going to treat you like you’re not enough or you’re not worthy, but that’s their own insecurities coming out. They’re bullies, and they’ll stop when you make them stop. If you start loving yourself, their words will no longer have meaning. You’ve got to start standing up for yourself, Stevie.”

She shoots me an understanding smile. “I’m working on it.”

Not so slyly, I scoot another inch closer to her on the step, but I’m still not touching her.

Not until she tells me she wants me to.

“How’s Rosie?”

Stevie’s face lights up. “She’s good. She misses you, though.”

“I’ll have to go see her soon.”

Her expression melts, her smile soft. “How was your Christmas?” Stevie finishes off her beer, setting the bottle down beside her.

“It was all right. I may have ruined it, though.”

Crossing her arms on her bent knees, she rests her cheek on them, facing me. “How so?”

“My dad is up there.” I motion upward. “And we don’t have the best relationship, but I just said some s**t I’ve been keeping bottled up for a long time.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Searching her face, I hesitate. Not many people know this part of my life. I keep my circle small due to the fear that people will either take advantage, wanting to sell the story to the media, exposing the side to me that I don’t want people to know about, or just not like me for who I really am.

“f**k it.” I chug the remainder of my beer, needing a little liquid courage. “My mom left us when I was sixteen for a man who made a shitload more money than my dad did. I have an older sister, Lindsey, who was away at college at the time, so it didn’t affect her in quite the same way it did me.”

I keep my eyes ahead of me, unable to look at Stevie in my vulnerability.

That is until she scoots closer to me, her thigh and shoulder touching mine. Her hand dangles between us, crossed over her knee.

I melt into her touch, noting absolutely no judgment on her face.

“My dad and I were close growing up, but when my mom left, he buried himself in work and with my sister off at school and my dad never home, it felt like he abandoned me in the same way my mom did. We’ve barely spoken to each other since.”

“s**t,” Stevie breathes out.

“And for the first time in twelve years, I just went off on him upstairs.”

“What did he say?”

“That he worked more because he was trying to make up for her leaving. But I never gave a f**k about how much money we had. I just wanted him around. I wanted him to love me.”

“I’m sure he does love you, Zee. Maybe he was grieving her leaving in his own way. Maybe…I don’t know. Maybe he had his reasons.”

“There’s no reason to abandon your kids.”

Looking over to Stevie, her blue-green eyes hold mine, unwavering, confident in this conversation.

“You just called me ‘Zee.’ You rarely call me anything other than my last name.”

“Yeah, well, there are certain times when calling you ‘Zanders’ seems a little weird.”

My eyes shine with amusement. “Like when you called me ‘Zee’ as you came all over me.”

Stevie’s mouth falls open in mock shock, smacking me on the shoulder. “Jesus. Here we are having a moment, and you just want to talk about sex.”

“We’re having a moment, huh?”

“Well, we sure as hell aren’t anymore. Moment has passed.”

Chuckling under my breath, I cross my arms over my knees, resting my cheek on them and mirroring her. Our hands dangle next to each other but don’t touch.

“Your mom is missing out.”

Stevie’s words make my chest swell, and my eyes sting a bit.

“She left me for money, and now I make more money than the man she left us for. Ironic, huh?”

“That’s not what I’m referring to. I’m not talking about how much money you make or who people think you are. I’m talking about who you really are. She’s missing out on that.”

“And you think you know who I really am?”

“I think I might be starting to figure it out.”

Her hand is right there, mere centimeters from my own, but I’m not really a hand-holding guy. In fact, I’ve never sentimentally done that. So instead, I hook the tip of my middle finger around hers, and touching her even that much feels nice.

“Hey, Stevie?”

“Hmm.” Her head leans on her arms, facing me.

“I like talking to you.”

ZANDERS

“A

nother game, Zanders. Another game, you left the arena alone. What the hell is going on?”

With my phone held tightly to my cheek, I plug the opposite ear, attempting to block out some of the noise from the busy tarmac here in Phoenix. But regardless of the airplane engines buzzing or my teammates shuffling past me to get on our plane, I can still hear Rich loud and clear. His raised and frustrated voice helps with that.