HENRY POV
The air in the coach’s office felt thick, suffocating. Maybe it was the lingering scent of sweat and cheap disinfectant, or maybe it was the weight of the moment pressing down on me like a full-body screen. Either way, I felt like I couldn’t take a deep breath.
Dax, of course, was completely in his element, carrying the conversation with the smooth confidence of someone who had been preparing for this his whole life.
“…We play best together. Our chemistry on the court is what makes us a package deal,” Dax was saying, his tone easy but firm. “You saw that tonight.”
Mr. Smithson, the Oklahoma City Thunder scout, nodded, flipping through the notes on his clipboard. “That’s exactly why we’re interested. The front office believes you two have real potential—not just individu
