Game of Temptation

olished maple echoed through the

efore the team shoot around, and

ight, elevate, release. The ball snapped through the net with a crisp, violent

hts of the red carpet or the tweets dissecting my brand. I felt the cool ocean wind on the terrace. I felt the s

d hard, and launched a jumper from twenty-eight feet. It

release, man. Flat

orehead with the hem of

years in the league. He'd seen championship banners raised, coaching staffs fired in hotel lobbies, and every kind of personal scanda

I muttered, going a

s were true," he said wi

ast night. Black-tie Kai. Looking like a James Bond vill

coldly, stepping back t

the ball from hand to hand. "Look, nobody in the locker room cares who you take to dinner, a

in his office b

and buried the shot cl

he floor. What happens between me and

ing more serious. "She's good, you know. Before you got assign

s clauses the front office tri

you locked in for Friday's game against Miami. If your head is

," I said, my voice har

, chaotic rhythm of full-contact practice. Whistles shrieked, sneakers squeaked, and bodies collided in

se ball, crashed into the padded folding chairs, and was back

y chest, trying to drown the memor

to the hydrotherapy tubs and the dining lounge. I took a long, scalding showe

walked down the quiet, carpeted corridor toward the film room. I to

f I was being

he acousti

s alrea

twenty-four hours ago, laptop open, surrounded by c

y cashmere sweater that looked out of place against all that equipment. She looked

against the doorframe

y. Two taps on the track pad

rk her

d an hour ago. The

wo percent of their fourth-quarter possessions," she said, crisp and matter-of-fact, finally lifting her eyes

the deadbolt this time. After what happened on the gala terrace, it felt too dangerous. I pul

," I sai

e air in the small room charged. She cleared her

back screen right here. You keep anticipating the drive into the paint, which leaves your guard trailing by two ful

ion of her notes, the clear, clinical intelligence behind every correction. She wasn't just managing my public

his," I murmured,

er brothers who played college ball. I spent my whole childhood on cold gym bleachers holding a clipboard, tracking their box scores. I never had the height

eside the keyboard. "Hale doesn't see that. T

turning to meet my eyes. "And right now

aw, the faint gold flecks in her hazel eyes, and the slow, measured rhythm of her breathing. The m

spell before I did something that viola

ietly, my voice rough around the

breath, turned back to the

e angles, and dissecting tape with ruthless, matched precision. On the screen the plays repeated in rele

ng truth, and I could tell she knew it too: the fake relationship was becoming the easies