Swish

Timeout - Eli

"Yeah, more like you're still heartbroken over Virginia."

Miles hardly ever spoke about girls, so to hear him comment about my nonexistent love life was a surprise, as was hearing V's name come from my friends mouth for the first time in months.

"Did you guys even seal the deal? You were only together for, what, a week?"

They laughed at Wilt's comment, but Miles was still staring at me, like he could read my damn mind.

Could they see it written on my face, that I hadn't been with a single other woman since that last night with V? That I hadn't even given another girl a second glance, that I threw myself into basketball and practice and eating healthy and keeping my body in peak shape that I was too busy to be lonely? That I, Eli Shepherd, social media stalked her at least once a week just to see what she was up to?

That she was the one for me and I let her slip through my fingers like fucking sand in an hourglass, and I would never find anyone like her ever again, and it was all my fault?

No, he couldn't see that, but I felt it.

"I don't want to talk about her. And sure, Pat, I'll set you up with that girl, if you want. She gave me her number."

But I never used it.

"Hey, do you remember her roommate, though? Bea?"

I narrowed my eyes at Wilt's question. He was asking about one of the girls who had betrayed V with the showcase?

"Yeah. Why?"

Wilt's mouth curved up into a sly smile and I suddenly knew where this was headed.

"Well, we got together after her friend left when she won all that money from the talent show thing. She's my girlfriend now."

"You do know what she did to V because of that talent showcase right? She fucked her over and made sure that V couldn't compete in it, because they all thought she was rich just because her dad was. It was an asshole move."

"Yeah, but she said she tried to apologize and V changed her number or something. I don't know, it's girl drama and it doesn't change that she's my girl now. Oh, shit, did you hear about Virginia's dad by the way?"

My blood chilled in my veins at the mention of Mike Bruins. Yes, I had heard about her father, but that didn't mean that I wanted to talk about him, or even think about him, for that matter.

"Yeah, what about him?"

"Well, everyone online is still talking about what happened with V's mom and the wreck but now that he's about to die-"

"What, they're just going to drop it now that he's sicker than he was before? That's bullshit."

"Eli, the guy's in the hospital, and they're saying he's not gonna make it much longer. Can you cut him some slack?"

Miles again, there with the emotional response, though I had no idea where that came from when he'd never been that way before.

"Not after everything he put V through, no, he doesn't deserve any slack. He's no better than-"

I cut myself off. I was about to say that he was no better than Jay, my stepfather, but the guys didn't know about that part of my life, didn't know about the abuse I'd suffered at his hands. I intended to keep it that way, too. I didn't want their pity.

"Nevermind. I gotta run, but it was great seeing you guys again. We should get together before I head out of state."

We said our goodbyes and on the way out I was greeted by a few younger players loitering around the courts wanting my autograph. Ever since shooting the final winning basket at half court after the buzzer sounded, my name had been repeated over and over on the sports networks and I'd even become a household name, at least, for diehard basketball families. I'd trended on social media for a few days, too, but fame like that is fleeting, which was why my agent capitalized on it and got me an endorsement from a few name brand sports companies.

It would help my chances of getting onto one of my first choice teams, according to my agent, but it was all inconsequential to me. I was still pushing, still working, still grinding until the hole in my chest closed up and I felt like myself again.

That day that V left, I changed everything. I moved out of the dorms, moved into an apartment with some of the players, and dedicated my entire waking hours to basketball, not like I didn't already do that before, but without V there to distract me, I worked even harder.

I liked to think V wasn't a distraction, but that was a lie. At night when I couldn't sleep, sometimes I could still smell her sweet vanilla perfume lingering in the air like she'd been there only moments before and she was only in the bathroom and she'd come back and curl up in my arms and we'd drift off to sleep together like we had a few times in that short amount of time that we'd had together.

My phone beeped in my hand and I caught a new news alert, and sure enough, the story broke that V's dad had died in the hospital.

A surge of protectiveness crashed over me as I realized that she would probably be coming back for the funeral. Would she? Or would she avoid it, like she'd avoided her sick father in the hospital?

She'd almost been crucified in the basketball world for not visiting him, but after the video started making its rounds on the internet once more, arguments were made that she didn't have to visit her mother's murderer on his death bed. She didn't owe anything to that man.

Still, was it sick that excitement flowed through me at the thought of seeing her again, even if it was at her father's funeral?

Probably. Did I care?

Not in the slightest.

Her budding popularity in music aside, this was bound to give her some negative media attention, and I wished that I could be there to help shield her from some of it, but she'd made it clear after months of no contact and the fact that she couldn't trust me anymore that she didn't want to see me.

That truth hurt worse than the memories of my back being shoved in the gravel by my stepfather or the fact that my mother had done nothing to stop him.

She didn't want to see me, that much was obvious, and no matter how many times I'd reached out after our fight, how many times I'd left her pleading messages on her social media accounts, she never replied. I got the hint. That didn't mean it didn't still sting.

Our connection meant more than it should have, because the guys were right, we'd only been together for a short time, but still, I wondered about her.

Did she still wonder about me, too?

God, I hoped so.

***

A/N:

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Until next time my lovely readers,

Kristen :)