Game days are always different, but this one? This one had my chest tight for reasons I didn't even want to unpack or had the time to. We were hours away from tip-off against Michigan, and I couldn't lie—I was feeling it. Not just the pressure, but that weird mix of pride and guilt. I was proud that I was making a name for myself but it was at the expense of my old team and that felt heavy.

The girls were already stretching and warming up by the time I got to the court. Paige and Azzi were messing around, throwing ridiculous no-look passes that Geno would probably complain and say was a waste of time later. Aaliyah was sitting cross-legged on the baseline, tying her bright shoes, while Aubrey was locked in as per usual, already running drills.

"Yo, D, you good?" Kk asked as I walked past her.

I nodded, rolling my shoulders back. "Yeah, just getting my head straight."

"Damn I forgot! Ouuu Michigan's gonna come for your neck tonight girl," she said with a grin, tossing me a ball.

"They got nothing on me," I shot back, smirking.

We got into the rhythm of practice, running routine plays and breaking down film. Geno's voice boomed across the gym every few seconds, nitpicking the smallest details with his hands erratically waving in the air like we didn't understand the first fifty times he repeated the same critiques.

"Set the screen earlier, Drew!"

"Azzi, you're rushing the shot—relax on that!"

"And Nika, if you're done staring at Drew, maybe play some basketball!"

I almost choked on my water. Nika, who was standing next to me and very much staring, just gave Geno her signature deadpan look before muttering under her breath, "He acts like I don't drop absolute dimes for his defence."

"You do Nik," I whispered, bumping her shoulder. "But, you know, when you're done staring at me or whatever, you should do drills with me."

She just rolled her eyes at me, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Everything was fine until Michigan decided to show up early for their court time. Of fucking course.

The minute I saw them, my stomach dropped like I just got sucker punched. I recognized every face—their starting five, their bench, even the assistant coaches. These were my people, once. Well, used to be at least.

They did not look happy to see me. Tough crowd. Most of them avoided eye contact entirely, but a few stared me down like I single-handedly ruined their lives. Like...hi?

"Dang," Kk whispered as we jogged back to the sideline. "They're mad-mad Drew."

"I think they look quite chipper actually," I muttered sarcastically.

The only thing that kept me focused was Nika. Every time I looked at her, she gave me that little nod that said, You're good. I'm here. And that made everything a little easier. My girl stood ten toes down behind me.

By the time practice ended, I was wiped. Geno gave us strict orders to rest up before the game, but Nika had other evil plans.

"Why do you look like you're about to pass out?"

She asked, sprawled out on the sauna bench like we were in her living room and she felt nothing out of the ordinary.

"Uh maybe because I am, Nik," I groaned, tugging at the neck of my shirt to let some air in. "People die in these things, you know."

"Not athletes," she shot back, smiling at my discomfort. "So you're fine for the most part."

"Okay diss, but I'm, like, medium-well right now. Another five minutes and I'm not making it to the court."

Her laugh was low, and she didn't bother hiding the way her eyes trailed down my face. "You're such a drama queen."

"And you're evil."

She leaned closer, her breath warm against my ear. "You wanna leave?"

"Yes."

"Then leave."

I narrowed my eyes at her. "You're bad at reverse psychology."

"And you're bad at sitting still," she fired back, putting a hand on my leg that bounced anxiously. "Just relax, baby."

The way she said baby sent a shiver through me. It was so easy for her to drop it in conversation now, like it was just part of her vocabulary, and I didn't mind.

"Fine," I muttered, leaning back against the bench. "But if I pass out, you're carrying me out of here."

Her grin was wicked. "I'd carry you like the princess you are."

I groaned, swiping a hand over my face. "Excuse me, I'm a queen."

"More like a troll."

By the time we left the sauna, I was drenched and practically limping my way to the hot tub.

"Nik, I need you to promise me something," I said, glancing at her.

She raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"If I die here tonight, tell Geno I loved him like a father."

Her laugh echoed down the empty hall. "You're so stupid."

We got to the hot tub, and I realized we'd made a critical error. "So... we didn't think this through," I said, gesturing to our clothes.

Nika gave me a look. "Drew. I've seen you butt naked. What part of this screams modesty?'"

"Uh, maybe the part where this is a public facility and anyone can walk in?"

She didn't respond but it wasn't because she was listening to me, never that. Instead, she pulled off her shirt and tossed it onto a nearby chair.

I blinked. "So you're just gonna—"

"Relaxxx," she said again, stepping into the water like she wasn't the most distracting person I'd ever seen. "Come here please."

I sighed dramatically but followed suit, sliding into the water in just my sports bra and basketball shorts.

"There," I said, sinking down until the water hit my shoulders. "Happy now?"

"Uh huh," she said, smirking as she floated closer.

I let her inch closer, the steam making everything hazy around us. "So, you're just gonna sit there and stare, or...?"

She tilted her head, feigning innocence and I did the same. "What, am I not allowed to look?"

I rolled my eyes. "Keep it up, and I'll throw you in the cold plunge."

Her grin softened into something more genuine. "You wouldn't do that softie."

We lapsed into silence for a minute, letting the hum of the tub fill the gap between us. Nika's head laid against my chest while I held onto her.

"You ever been in something like this before?" Nika asked, her voice softer now.

"What, a hot tub?"

"No, dumbass. Us."

Her words caught me off guard, but I shook my head. "Not really. I mean like, I've dated, but..."

"But?"

"I don't know. It never felt or was... real?" I said, searching for the right words. "Like, it was fun, but it wasn't this." I was telling the truth. I was so focused on basketball that girls were never a priority, flings were more practical and every time I came close to having a somewhat real relationship it fizzled out.

She nodded, her eyes glued on the water. "Same. People always made it a thing, you know? Like, they'd say they were cool with how much basketball takes over, but they actually weren't. And I mean I get it—it's a lot. But I just..." She trailed off, shrugging her shoulders.

"You just need someone who gets it," I finished for her.

She looked at me then, her eyes soft. "Yeah."

I reached out, my fingers brushing hers under the water. "I get it."

Her lips twitched into a small smile. "I know you do."

We sat like that for a moment, the weight of her words settling in. I did get it. If anyone could understand her—the drive, the sacrifices, the discipline—it was me.

"So, you don't happen to have any crazy exes stalking your Instagram or anything?" I teased, trying to lighten the mood.

She snorted. "Nope. You?"

I shook my head. "I'm married to the game, baby."

She rolled her eyes. "Of course."

"You're stuck with me now," I said, grinning.

"Send help," she shot back, her tone playful again.

The mood shifted when Nika moved closer, her knee brushing mine under the water. Her eyes flicked down to my lips, and I felt my heart pounding in my chest.

"You're staring again," I said, my voice quieter now.

"Maybe," she said, her voice dropping lower. "I just like looking at your pretty face. Why? Do I make you nervous?" Well yes.

I swallowed hard. "Nik—"

Her hand slid to my neck, her fingers grazing my jaw as she leaned in. Her lips barely hovered over mine, and I couldn't keep my hands off of her, pulling her body up to stand between my legs.

The air between us felt sparked, like a live wire sparking under the water. Her skin shined from the water, putting every muscle on her body on display. Every faded mark I left on her before.

But the thought of someone walking in on us hit me like a cold slap. "We can't Nika," I whispered, pulling back even though it killed me to do it.

Her expression went sad, but she covered it quickly. "Can't, or won't?"

"Both," I said, my voice going soft now. "Not here baby."

She sighed, leaning back against the edge of the tub with a frown. "You're no fun."

"Don't get moody on me it's not my fault," I shot back, grinning. "If you win I'll do whatever you want I promise."

She rolled her eyes but the thoughts running through her head forced a smile. "Ugh fine. But pinky promise."

I smirked. "Pinky promise."

By the time we made it back to the team, I was still thinking about the way her hand felt on my skin, the look in her eyes.

And from the way she couldn't stop looking at me, I knew she was thinking about it too.

The first quarter was chaos.

Michigan came out swinging, running fast breaks like they were trying to catch us off guard but it was predictable. They were aggressive, too—especially on Nika. It was subtle at first: a little extra contact, a few elbows flying too close for comfort. But it didn't stay subtle for long.

By the second quarter, it was becoming painfully clear that they were targeting her. I tried pin it as coincidental but every single time she had the ball, they'd swarm, hands flying everywhere, blocking her vision and cutting off her passing lanes. And when she didn't have the ball? They'd bump her on cuts, stand in her way, talk trash under their breath. I knew better than to let them get to me but every time I heard them talking about Nika, I fought the urge to get myself benched for the rest of the game.

It was no secret that me and Nika had the strongest on-court chemistry. We spent the most time together off-court which consequently meant she knew my game in and out just like I learnt hers. If you wanted to put a dent in our game, even the reporters knew you had to interfere with it. But the way they were coming after Nika alone was far from just a smart basketball move, it was personal and calculated.

I'd seen Nika handle pressure like it was nothing before, but tonight, it was a different story. I could feel the anger radiating off her every time we reset. Her jaw was clenched, and her eyes had that look I'd learned to read as don't fuck with me.

"You okay?" I asked breathlessly during a quick timeout, grabbing her by the arm before she could walk back to the bench.

She didn't look at me. "I'm fine."

She was not fine.

Things boiled over just before halftime. Nika was driving to the basket when one of Michigan's guards stepped into her path, blocking her way with way too much force. The collision sent Nika sprawling to the floor, her head snapping back slightly as she hit the ground. Dangerously close to getting herself a concussion.

The whistle blew immediately, the ref signaling a foul, but I didn't care about that.

I was already moving, my sneakers squeaking against the court as I beelined toward the Michigan player.

"Are you serious?" I snapped, my voice louder than I intended, making sure I kept my hands to myself but shoved my body up against hers.

The girl laughed at me, like she thought it was funny. "It's basketball, not ballet."

Before I could say anything else, I felt Nika push herself up beside me. Her eyes were locked on the girl, her body tense like she was ready to throw hands right there on the court or rush her.

"Nika, don't," I said quickly, stepping between them and pressing a hand to her waist to hold her back.

She didn't move, her glare still burning holes into the other girl. She rarely spoke Croatian when I was around and she was murmuring angry sentences to no end.

"Nika," I said again, leaning down slightly so my voice was only for her. "Listen I've got you. But don't let them get in your head they're trying to make it personal."

Her jaw twitched, but she didn't argue because she knew I was right. She gave the Michigan player one last look before stepping away, letting me guide her back to our bench with caution.

"Looks like there's some tension on the court tonight," one of the reporters said, her voice echoing through the arena.

"You're telling me," another chimed in. "Did you see the way Drew was talking to Nika just now? That wasn't your typical pep talk. Whatever she said must've been magic to calm that fire down. Nika is a force to be reckoned with that's for sure."

"Definitely something to keep an eye on in the second half. If I was Michigan, I would definitely be scared in this second half she's got her foot on the gas."

Whatever I said must've worked, because when we came back from halftime, Nika was on fire.

She moved like she had something to prove, easily breaking through Michigan's defense like it was nothing. Every pass was quick, every shot calculated and downed. And the looks she was giving the Michigan players were cold.

"Oof, Nika's got it now," Aaliyah said beside me when I came off the court late in the fourth quarter.

"Yeah," I muttered, my eyes glued to her. That's my girl.

'Got it now' didn't even begin to cover it.

The final minute of the game was pure adrenaline.

We were up by three, but Michigan had possession, and I was pacing the sideline like a maniac.

"Drew, sit down," Aubrey hissed, grabbing my arm.

"I can't," I shot back, my eyes darting between the court and the clock.

The ball moved to Georgia at the top of the key, and I felt my stomach drop. She was one of their best shooters, and I knew that she wasn't afraid of taking the big shots. Not to mention she made them nine out of ten times.

But before she could close, Paige flew out of nowhere, tipping the ball loose and chasing it down. She grabbed it and launched a deep three at the buzzer, the ball sailing through the air in slow motion.

It hit nothing but net.

The crowd erupted, and before I knew it, we were all storming the court, the team huddling together in a mess of cheers and screams.

Nika found me almost immediately, her arms wrapping around me in a tight hug.

"You were a beast out there," I said, my voice muffled against her shoulder, picking her up off the ground briefly.

She pulled back just enough to look at me, her eyes still bright with adrenaline. "Thank you, baby."

I froze for half a second, glancing around to make sure no one else heard her. But everyone was too busy celebrating to notice.

"You can't just say that out here," I whispered, even though my hands refusing to let go of her was much more telling than anything else.

Her grin was unapologetic. "What, you don't like it?"

"Never said that."

She smirked, leaning closer. "Good."

I didn't care who saw us at that point, and I don't think she did either. The whole keeping it on the low thing was the least of my worries and I had only suggested it to make sure she knew I had her best interest in mind but it seemed like everyone had us figured out, from the fans to the reporters
and even our teammates, but nobody wanted to be the first to say it out loud. Less formally, I didn't give a singular fu—

On the bus ride home, we both collapsed into a seat near the back, too tired to do anything but sit in comfortable silence.

Well up until Nika checked her phone.

"Georgia DMed me," she said casually.

I glanced over, and sure enough, there it was: 'Are you French? 'Cause Eiffel for you.'

I groaned, leaning my head back against the seat and clutching my chest dramatically. "Eugh that's so bad my body had a reaction."

She laughed. "Bye you're just jealous."

"Jealous? Girl never that," I said, lying through my teeth. "I just know you can do so much better but whatever."

Her eyes sparkled with amusement. "Oh, yeah? Like who?"

I turned to look at her, a huge grin on my face. "Like me."

Her smirk softened, and she reached for my hand, lacing our fingers together.

"I guess you're right," she said quietly, her thumb brushing against mine. "I can do better—I did do better."

"Damn right you did."

We stayed like that for the rest of the ride, her head resting on my shoulder as we let the pressure of the game fade off. For the first time all night, I felt like I could finally breathe.

...