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Back The Fake Save as PDF
Chapters (44)
  1. Cover
  2. 1
  3. 2
  4. 3
  5. 4
  6. 5
  7. 6
  8. 7
  9. 8
  10. 9
  11. 10
  12. 11
  13. 12
  14. 13
  15. 14
  16. 15
  17. 16
  18. 17
  19. 18
  20. 19
  21. 20
  22. 21
  23. 22
  24. 23
  25. 24
  26. 25
  27. 26
  28. 27
  29. 28
  30. 29
  31. 30
  32. 31
  33. 32
  34. 33
  35. 34
  36. 35
  37. 36
  38. EPILOGUE
  39. PLAYLIST
  40. THE PASS SNEAK PEEK
  41. TANNER
  42. SYDNEY
  43. TANNER
  44. ALSO BY REBECCA JENSHAK

“Sure, why not?”

She picks up one of the balls and turns it over, running her palms along the leather. It’s as if she’s someone who played a long time ago and is getting a feel for it again, reacquainting herself with an old friend.

She steps out of her heels and pads over to the top of the key. I didn’t bother turning the light on when we walked in, so it’s dark, only the skylights giving us enough illumination to see. She checks it to me, and I send it back, intrigued and anxious to see if she can play.

With a hesitant start, she dribbles twice with her right hand before switching to her left. I’m too far away to steal it without moving so she takes her time dribbling in place before she takes a step to the basket.

I let her come to me. When she’s less than an arm’s length away, I place a hand at her hip. It’s a small amount of contact that I do almost instinctively when I’m defending, putting pressure on the offense and letting them know I’m not going to allow them to go where they want, but my fingers tingle as she presses back into me, pushing me toward the basket.

Sydney is fairly tall. I’m over six feet and the top of her head, even slightly bent over with the ball, comes up to my chin. Her frame is slender but strong and she doesn’t seem intimidated despite how impressive she thinks my stats are.

Oh, and she definitely played ball at some point in her life. She naturally turns, angling her body to keep the basketball farther away. Her blonde hair brushes against my bare chest. She smells like cotton candy—sweet and addictive.

“What position did you play? Guard?” I guess.

She backs me up to the foul line where I refuse to give up any more ground quite so easily. And I’m not going to lie, her body pressed into mine is foreplay I didn’t even know I was missing. I’ve never dated a chick who played basketball, or that had any real athletic ability. Now I wonder if I’ve missed out on a bunch more things because I’ve never been this excited about the idea of kissing someone.

“Forward.” Sydney plants her left foot between mine and turns so she can get a half step in front of me and pulls up for a shot. I could block it, but I don’t. I watch as the ball rolls off her fingertips and sails through the air, and the look of excited anticipation while she waits to see if it’s going in. And I keep on staring, not really caring if it goes in or not, as she raises her arms in victory.

2

SYDNEY