THE RIGHT MOVE

19

I place my hand on her lower back. It’s the first time I’ve really touched her, and she instantly stiffens from the contact. “Mr. Morgan, this is Indy…my girlfriend.”

My roommate’s smile instantly drops.

“So wonderful to meet the woman who finally caught the attention of our Ryan Shay.” He studies her and though Indy might not be able to tell through his tone, I know he’s trying to figure this out. He’s trying to catch me.

Please go with it, Blue, I beg through my eyes.

She stays silent in shock.

“I’m sure she’s happy to meet you too,” I quickly interrupt the stretched silence. “But she’s heading out right now.” Using my hand on her lower back, I turn her towards the exit.

“Oh, already?” Ron asks. “What a shame.”

“Yep. She’s got to go.” I push against Indy’s back, needing her to get a pep in her step and get the f**k out of here.

“Not so fast, honey bun.” She snaps out of her trance, stopping me as she wraps both arms around my waist. “How am I supposed to be without you for two days? We’ve never been apart, cupcake. I’m going to miss you so much.”

She nuzzles her head on my un-iced shoulder, looking up at me with a wink.

I’m going to kill her.

“Well, aren’t you two the sweetest,” Ron laughs.

“Oh, it’s all him. Sweetest man I’ve ever met. And emotional! Did you know he was so emotional?”

“I had no idea. Shay is always so composed around here.”

“Oh, he’s emotional all right! Huge crier too. He sobbed the first time we made lo—”

I slap a palm over her mouth. “We’ve got to go. See you on the plane, Mr. Morgan.”

I don’t let go of Indy as I turn us around and march towards the exit.

“I look forward to seeing you again at the fall banquet next week, Indy!”

Indy waves at Ron over her shoulder like a woman gone mad, but she can’t respond because I refuse to uncover her mouth until we are away from my colleagues.

“What the hell are you doing?” I snap once we’re alone in the empty hall outside of the gym. “And what the f**k is with the food nicknames?”

“What am I doing? What the hell are you doing? Your girlfriend?”

“f**k,” I exhale, pacing the small hallway. “I panicked.”

“Well, go un-panic and correct him.”

“I can’t.”

“You can’t?” She laughs condescendingly. “What do you mean you can’t?”

“Look, Indy. That man in there holds my future in his hands. I can’t exactly go tell him I lied to his face. He just told me he doesn’t think I’m cut out to lead this team. That I’m not approachable and that I spend too much time alone.”

“Sounds like he knows you too well.”

“I need his support. I can’t spend the rest of my career playing for a GM who doesn’t think I’m the right man for the job. I just need you to go to this event with me, get his wife to fall in love with you, and Ron will change his mind about me. Caroline is his weak spot. If she’s a fan, then he will be too.”

Indy laughs. “And you call me emotional and dramatic.”

“I’ve never once called you dramatic.”

“I know.” She pops her shoulder. “I added that in because I wanted a reason to call you dramatic. Which you are. Go take that robotic personality of yours and set him straight.”

I take a deep breath. “Indy. It’s one night. One event. Help me out here.”

“No. That’s so weird! I can’t pretend to be your girlfriend.”

Okay, I lied. She is dramatic. This isn’t a big deal. “Do you want me to get on my knees and beg or something?”

“Now that you say it.” She c***s her head to the side, eyes roaming my length. “I wouldn’t mind knowing what you look like on your knees, Shay.”

“Indy, please.”

“This is ridiculous. We can talk about it when you get home.”

“Perfect. Great. All I’m asking for is one night.”

“Go get me your key so I can go crash in my new expensive bed.”

“What an amazing guy to buy you a bed. Probably makes you want to return a favor. He seems like a wonderful person.”

Indy rolls her eyes. “He’s on my s**t list at the moment.”

RYAN

O

ur first game on the road was a success. I had a triple-double which doesn’t happen all that often. I have no problem with scoring or assists, I lead my team in both those categories, but rebounding is a different game. At 6’3” I’m tall in the real world, but when it comes to the NBA, I’m one of the smaller guys in the league. My body takes a pounding anytime I drive the lane, but the aches are worth it whenever I sneak past a big man or hit a three over a 6’8” beast.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t feeling last night’s game though. My shoulder has been screaming at me all morning after too many missed calls. I don’t know if it’s because of my height or what, but some games I’m not given the respect of calls made on dangerous plays. Fouls that would be a flagrant for any other MVP nod aren’t even called for me, and the resulting body pain catches up to me the next day.

But worse than my shoulder, my brain has been in overdrive since I left Chicago. I’ve never allowed someone to stay in my home who wasn’t my sister, and I don’t know if I can trust Indy yet. She doesn’t seem malicious, and Stevie trusts her, but people can surprise you. Giving her unbridled access to my apartment is overwhelming to say the least. I had to keep myself from calling my twin and asking her to crash there while I was out of town, but I know Stevie would’ve been disappointed in my unearned distrust of her friend.

So, as I make my way home, the only thing bouncing around my brain is the hope that Indy didn’t find something she could use against me later or information she could sell to make a quick buck. I’m aware of my paranoia, but it’s not without reason and someone in my position always needs to watch their back. I can’t let my guard down.