When Micah opens his front door, clearly not expecting me since I didn’t give him a heads-up I’d be coming, we blink at each other in surprise. Him because he must have been expecting someone else, and me because . . .
“What are you wearing?” I ask, unintentionally sounding rude. It’s not my fault he’s managed to make all my coherent thoughts scramble. I mean, he’s—
Crossing his glittery arms over his silky pink robe, Micah cocks a hip—a feat in the extremely tall heels he’s wearing—and holds his chin high. “None of your business.” A lock of nearly shoulder-length turquoise hair tumbles into his face, prompting him to shake his head until it falls in place once more.
That’s fair.
“Okay.” Shrugging, I step into his apartment, closing the door against the chilly December air. “I need your help.”
His arms fall limp at his sides. “You . . . aren’t going to push about—” He gestures at his scantily clad body, heels, and shimmery makeup.
“Not if you don’t want to tell me. Your legs look nice.” They do, all smooth and shiny.
“Um, thanks?”
“I require your services.”
Maybe not the right thing to say when he’s stressed like a sex worker.
“I need a Christmas present for Tahegin,” I clarify when Micah looks utterly scandalized. “I thought you might be able to design a player card that looks like him? And we can fill it in with personal facts instead of stats.”
He stares at me, eyes narrowed and lips parted.
“What?” I demand when he doesn’t respond.
“First of all, of course I can do that. Easy. Second—” He pokes my chest, harder than necessary. “For the last four years, you have not given me a single Christmas present. Not. One. But a few months with Tahegin, and he’s getting custom stuff.”
“I buy you pizza and beer every year.”
“I don’t like beer.”
Smiling sheepishly, I rub the back of my neck. “Okay, maybe the beer was for me. But we always have our all-night movie party, and I let you choose all the sappy holiday movies you want.”
“That’s not a gift,” he says flatly. “That’s called friendship.”
“Micah.”
Raising his hands in surrender, Micah finally relents. “All right. That’s settled.” His palms land on my shoulders, and he begins pushing me toward the door. “Send me the cute little facts you want the card to say, and I will have it finished in time for Christmas, okay? Okay. Buh-bye now!”
I feel my face twist in confusion. Is he trying to get rid of me? I open my mouth to ask at the same time he yanks open the door and—
We both stare at the man waiting in the hallway.
“Mickey, are you— Oh. Hello, there.” The petite guy’s voice goes all soft and sultry when he spots me, and he eyes me beneath blond curls, eyes raking down my frame in a way that makes me wish I had brought a coat. Is this what people mean when they say they feel ogled?
“Frankie,” Micah hisses from behind me. “No.” The command is said like a dog owner scolding their pet.
This Frankie character is dressed similarly to Micah, at least from what I can glimpse around his long coat. My curiosity piques. Are they going to a club? Please don’t let my earlier sex worker thought be true.
“Bye, Hendrix,” Micah grunts as he attempts to shove me out the door.
I dig in my heels, grabbing his arm and pulling him close. “I’m not asking for details,” I whisper softly in his ear. “But tell me, are you being safe? Are you in any danger? Are there . . . drugs involved?”
“I’m fine,” he mutters, yanking from my hold. “Yes, I am safe. No, there isn’t danger. And no, there aren’t any drugs. Go, please, Rix. I will talk to you tomorrow.”
I trust him. Four years of friendship have given me that much. So, I let him go, reminding him once more that I am here whenever he wants to talk about it.
CHAPTER 20
HENDRIX AVERY
Walking through Aleks’ giant house, I try not to appear as if I am searching for anyone in particular. My hands fumble with the small wrapped package in my hands, and I mentally plan out how to give it to Tahegin. God knows I’ll make this awkward as hell, no matter how many play-by-plays I run in my head. My antisocial personality is partially to blame, but mostly, it is just Tahegin. He makes me nervous in a way I’m not at all accustomed to.
I haven’t seen him since our game on Sunday—Christmas Day. I’d had the chance to spend the day with him, if his previous invitation was still standing, because the dinner with Micah’s family had been canceled due to the entire household coming down with the flu. I’m pretty sure Micah ended up spending the day with Aleks, and I’d . . . Well, I’d sat at home. Alone. Wishing I had taken Tahegin up on his offer.
Things have gone back to normal with Tahegin—which means I have gone back to deluding myself into thinking I might one day convince him to give us a shot. I can’t seem to make myself stop, though. Not when he is the one who asks me to sit with him on the hotel bed, or come home with him after practice, or spend our off day at the animal shelter where he volunteers. I’ll take those platonic moments without complaint because trying to put distance between us only hurt last time.
We’re going to the playoffs, that much is for sure after our game on Sunday. It’s nerve-racking as a rookie, but my teammates partying tonight without care for the game tomorrow is somewhat consoling. They don’t seem too worried about it, though they are all most likely already drunk and have forgotten about the New Year’s Day game.
I’d purposefully arrived late to avoid having to mingle with drunken, social brutes. My goal is to find Tahegin, exchange gifts, maybe talk some if we can find a quiet enough place, ask how his Christmas went with his family, ring in the New Year, and then gracefully bow out.
Step one is locating Tahegin, and Aleks’ huge house is not helping. It seems as if everyone employed by the Rubies is here tonight—I wouldn’t be surprised to find the coaches here, too. Music thumps throughout the place, the kitchen just as loud as the living room. Even the man cave is full of partygoers playing beer pong.
I’ve just about given up when a low voice murmurs in my ear.
“Is that present for me?”
Spinning around, I find Tahegin standing in an alcove I’d managed to overlook. It’s small, filled with bookshelves, and it doesn’t appear as if Tahegin was purposely hiding there. Perhaps we simply happened to cross paths at just the right time.
