“I’m sorry to have to do this to you,” he says right before he spins to my left and takes the basketball to the hoop and scores.

The guys fist bump him, and I move to the top of the three-point line. “Give me the ball.”

“Ah, shit,” Blair says as she bounces it to me. “Chloe is pissed.”

Nathan walks up toward me with a rueful grin. “Sorry, princess, had to be done.”

“Mhmm, too late for apologies.”

Wes chuckles. “Don’t you know you’re supposed to let your girl beat you, Payne?”

“That’s not what you do, is it?” Blair asks, her voice going up an octave with each word.

Everyone laughs except Blair. Wes pulls her into a hug and shoots us all an “oh, shit” look over the top of her head. “Of course not.”

I dribble, concentrating hard. I don’t have any mad skills to do anything fancy, so I decide to go with brute force. I step on his left foot with my right and I may throw an elbow in the process. It all happens so fast it’s hard to say.

Whoopsies.

The rest of the guys part to let me through, and I manage to make a shot right under the basket. When I turn around, Nathan is sprawled out on the floor on his butt. He’s got both eyebrows raised, but he smiles as I approach. I offer him a hand, and he pulls me down on top of him.

“I scored.”

“Where was the back-up D?” Nathan asks the guys as he squeezes my waist.

“Everyone was afraid to get in her way.” Joel approaches, ball tucked into his side. “You’re dangerous, Macpherson. Let’s keep him in one piece.”

“Sara’ll kick your ass if you show up to train next week with an injury,” Zeke adds with a smirk.

Nathan’s signed with Zeke’s agent, Sara Icoa, and he and Joel are heading to a training facility in Phoenix this weekend. I’ll be traveling the world playing volleyball while he’s there and then meeting him in New York for the draft. Then? Who knows? I’d follow him anywhere, which is the plan. It’s as good a plan as I can imagine. I can get a job pretty much everywhere, but there’s only one Nathan Payne.

We don’t continue the game after that. Sitting on the hardwood floor, we pass the flask around and share memories from college. They have more stories with one another than I do, but I love listening to every one of them, even the ones I’ve heard a dozen times before. Their friendships and relationships have withstood a lot, and this may be the end of one story, but it’s just the start, really. Our happily ever after is just beginning.

Nathan

One Month Later