GAVIN
Wincing at the brightness, Gavin groaned himself awake. Even behind closed eyelids, he could see the yellow-white glow of 7AM sunlight. It beat down on his bare skin, feeling closer than it should for someone lying in bed.
Yeah. You’re not in your bed though, are you, dumbass?
Gavin let one eye flutter open as the April breeze swept his body with goosebumps. He didn’t need a look around to know that he’d once again migrated outside in the middle of the night. Because sleepwalking onto a fiftieth floor balcony is always a good idea. Awesome, dude. Raking his fingers through his hair, he yawned, blinking until his green eyes focused.
“Nice.” Bending his knees, he unstuck his legs from the woven canvas straps of the outdoor chaise. He figured he’d been sleeping on it since around three or four in the morning. According to the last girl, that had been approximately when he’d left his bed. “And the door’s open,” Gavin mumbled to himself, lifting his stiff neck off the chaise with another groan. Turning, he confirmed his suspicions of leaving the glass door to his living room wide open.
Good job, he nodded before collapsing back onto the chair, paying no mind to the fact that he was out in the open and wearing just a pair of charcoal grey boxer briefs. Stretching out his tight muscles, he cracked a groggy laugh. His imagination was conjuring up the image of a dozen pigeons having snuck into his apartment overnight, flapping around in his living room and presenting some kind of horror movie scenario for the girl in his bed. He didn’t know a whole lot about her but he knew that she hated pigeons and her name had something to do with Christmas, according to the mental note in his head.
And she was a fitness model. Easily the hottest of the three who had approached his table last night at Roué. Curves and ballet body aside, she had the type of long, beachy hair that his knees went instantly weak for. Those winning features were enough to help him overlook the baby voice that she too often dipped into. The cartoonish sound made him actually wince, but it had been hard to hear much in the club anyway. Plus, after leaving Roué, he’d had the pleasure of witnessing an awesome moment during which her princess-like air had been shattered. It had been while walking across Delancey to find a cab, when a pigeon had swooped less than a foot over their heads. Eyes bugging, the girl had immediately ducked, but instead of breathlessly squealing like Gavin had expected, she’d let out a deep and warbling, “Fuckin’ shitballs, holy shit!”
It had been the sound of real fear coming from the back of her throat. Something guttural. Manly, almost. And though Gavin had laughed out of pure delight, she’d clasped her hand over her mouth and blushed deep red, immediately assuming her tiny voice again to whine, “Oh my God, so embarrassing! Shut up, Gav! Don’t laugh at me!”
Man, that voice, Gavin shuddered as he recalled it.
And just as he did, he heard it come from behind him.
“What are you doing out here, silly?”
He sat up, turning to see the girl leaning in his doorway, her brunette head sporting a pretty unmistakable case of sex hair. Hanging off one of her shoulders was his faded blue Knicks tee, the hem of which she twirled in her manicured fingers so that he could see a few inches of black lace panty. She would’ve been a vision from his dreams had he not just heard her speak like a tantrum-prone toddler. Gazing at her, Gavin gave himself a second to enjoy the image without any sound interference.
“I, uh, sleep out here sometimes,” he finally answered.
“In the winter?”
“It’s spring.”
“But like, even when you have a girl over?”
Only when I have a girl over. “Yeah.” Gavin winced at himself. “Sorry if that’s weird.” He threw his legs over the side of the chair, ignoring the way her eyes feasted on his body the moment he stood. He was too busy thinking about how it was in fact weird that he sleepwalked onto the balcony every night he brought a girl over. It’d been happening for the past four months without fail and the weather wasn’t even nice enough for it to be anything remotely pleasant. It had begun in December, just as it had gotten snowy.
And thanks to the habit, Gavin had spent the months of January and February with a cold that had forced him to miss All-Star Weekend and more importantly, its parties. Between his employment at Klein Sports Management and his friendship with the Western Conference starting point guard, Damian Evans, he’d had the most VIP of passes to every last event. But alas, he’d missed them all because his subconscious refused to share a bed. Or something. He couldn’t figure out exactly what it was since he’d slept through the night with other girls in the past. Prior to December, he’d been totally fine. It was a total mystery to him.
“You sure that sleeping on the balcony isn’t like, a hint, Gav? ‘Cause maybe you have some fantasy about doing it out here for the whole city to see?”
Gavin blinked at the girl. He didn’t need to drop hints when it came to sex and the balcony had seen various girls already, but he didn’t say any of that. He wasn’t an asshole. Not that kind of asshole, at least.
“Actually,” he started seriously, trying to suppress the smile slowly twisting his lips. “I have always dreamt of doing it for the whole city to see.” He grinned as the girl cocked a suggestive eyebrow, starting a slow saunter towards him.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Gavin watched her kittenishly bite the tip of her finger. “I bet they’d be like, ’Fuckin’ shitballs, holy shit!’”
“Omigod, shut up!”
That was more so the kind of asshole he was.
“So mean, Gav!” The girl covered her blushing cheeks with her hands before spinning around and running back into the apartment. Gavin laughed, watching her perfect hips twitch from side to side as he jogged after her.
“Hey. Come on.” He shut the glass door behind him once he got into the living room, the heat blasting his bare skin and fully waking him up. Stretching his arms above his head, he strolled after her, turning SportsCenter on along the way. “Don’t be embarrassed about that. I thought it was funny,” he said, following her up to his kitchen counter and pressing a kiss against the back of her neck. He felt her tense body promptly relax at his touch. Now would be a good time to remember her name, asshole. Something to do with Christmas. A plant.
“Holly,” he exhaled, turning her to face him. He grinned when she looked up at him from under her lashes. “Seriously, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I thought it was funny yesterday. And cute, honestly. I liked hearing your real voice.”
“It wasn’t my real voice. I was super scared and it just came out.”
“I think that makes it your real voice then,” Gavin laughed, leaning her against the marble counter top. She giggled, squirming as his hands warmed themselves on the small of her back.
“Nuh-uh,” she whined, going on the very tips of her toes to kiss him. Gavin studied her dark, sparkling brown eyes, her razor sharp cheekbones as she brushed her full lips against his. She really was gorgeous.
“Don’t ‘nuh-uh’ me. Show me your real voice,” he murmured.
She shook her head, taking his hands and guiding them to the front of her body, up her taut abs and over her breasts. “This is my real voice,” she insisted with an exaggerated pout, her sugary tone so child-like that it struck Gavin as suddenly more creepy than anything. It didn’t help that she was pushing her lower lip out more and more with each passing second. And… there goes the morning wood.
“Alright.” Letting go of a sigh, Gavin gently removed his hands from her body. He ran them up his face and into his hair, avoiding her wounded look as he rounded the marble counter. “I’m hungry. I’m gonna make us some breakfast.”
“What?”
Despite sensing Holly’s glare from the corner of his eye, Gavin opened the fridge. With arousal zapped, food was quickly making its way to the forefront of his mind. Just looking at the bacon next to the carton of eggs made his stomach growl. He could hear it. Or maybe he was just trying not to hear Holly.
“Have me for breakfast,” she whined, making little “mmph” and “hmph” sounds as he reached for the basil hidden in the back. “You can’t walk around half naked and not expect me to want round three,” she whimpered, waiting a few silent seconds before making another high-pitched “hmph” sound. “At least tell me what you’re thinking about. You’re so serious all of a sudden, talk to me.”
Setting the components of his breakfast onto the counter, Gavin tried to think of a response, but he kept coming up empty. He was accustomed to having this part of the morning to himself since most girls stayed asleep after he awoke. It had been like that for the past year-and-a-half or however long it’d been since the breakup. Peaceful early mornings in the company of just bacon, eggs and sports. That was how he liked it, especially since he couldn’t seem to break the habit of hooking up with smoking hot girls whom he couldn’t carry a conversation with outside of the club. They didn’t have his humor. But then again, it didn’t feel like any people around him did. Good talks came rarely these days if they weren’t work-related.
Holly heaved a sigh of disgust. “You’re such a fuckin’ asshole,” she finally muttered, breaking Gavin from his thoughts as she turned on her heel to head back into the bedroom. He blinked, realizing that he’d ignored her for too long. But he didn’t say anything because he suspected that she was getting dressed to leave and he didn’t want to impede on that possibility. Though despite hoping for it, he cooked a double portion of bacon and eggs. He was starving so he figured that she had to be at least a little bit hungry.
He was on the couch by the time Holly emerged from his bedroom in the lace mini dress from the night before, appearing still flushed with vexation. Gavin pried his attention from the Warriors-Lakers highlights so he could eye her as she crossed her arms.
“You know, one of my best friends slept with you in January.”
Mouth full, Gavin blinked at her, unsure of how he was supposed to respond. Holly smirked.
“She said you were on the balcony when she woke up, so basically, I just confirmed that you’re like, some kind of weirdo. I mean do you even like girls? Like, why do I have to throw myself at you?”
Gavin stared at her. He was silent for a bit, trying not to look or sound exasperated.
“You’re one of the hottest girls I’ve ever seen,” he said finally, watching her shoulders relax despite her hard expression. “I had fun with you last night. I just have to be at work soon and I’m stressed about all these player evaluations I didn’t do yet,” he lied. “I gotta get going soon so I can do some work at the office.”
“Oh.” Holly blinked, her expression promptly thawing as she sighed and let her body crumple onto the couch. “God, I thought I only looked good when you were drunk or something,” she exhaled, giggling at herself. “Either that or you were gay.”
“No.” Gavin shook his head, returning his attention to SportsCenter. “I’m only gay for this guy,” he said, nodding at the TV. Gavin eyed Holly as she stared at Damian’s post-game interview on the screen, her expression mixed with horror and confusion. He laughed, opening his mouth to explain the joke but deciding against it. There was no point.
So he stared at the screen, watching the interview he’d already seen last night. And quietly, he missed Beauford, his family, his friends. They would’ve gotten his joke.
~
“Damn, you’re here early, Hunter. I thought you closed the deal last night, buddy.”
Dangling in the doorframe of Gavin’s twenty-ninth floor office was Elliot Smiley, the other executive assistant at Klein Sports who very much lived up to his surname if a constant shit-eating grin counted. Narrowing his blue eyes at Gavin, he plopped down onto the tufted black couch, making sure to smooth down his tie after doing so. “Didn’t I see you leave with Holly last night? You lucky bastard?”
“Yes.”
“Then why the fuck am I seeing you here so early? You should be going for round eight right now. I would’ve covered for you.”
Gavin stared for a moment before returning his attention to his screen. “We just signed Dante Gibson. We’re finalizing his endorsement deal with EA and announcing his contract with Adidas on Thursday. It’s gonna be a busy week.”
“Fair, fair.” Elliot shrugged, barely crinkling the shoulders on his Loro Piana suit. “Well, not to make you jealous here, but while you’re at the Adidas party on Thursday and scoring numbers from a bunch of Holly lookalikes, I’ll be in Brooklyn scouting a bunch of European string beans who probably won’t get drafted anyway.” Elliot sighed as he lay back on Gavin’s couch, careful not to muss his ultra-coiffed hair as he massaged his temples. “Life can really fucking suck sometimes.”
Gavin shook his head. “You know some of the NBA’s best players were scouted at the International Tourney, asshole.”
“Well, I doubt there’ll be any future stars there this year.” Elliot pulled two stapled papers from the inner pocket of his suit, crumpling them before tossing them onto Gavin’s desk. “Check out the roster. Buncha no names besides those two kids from Spain who already have representation. Big ol’ waste of my precious time.”
Smoothing out the paper, Gavin scanned it, nodding and shrugging at the list of unspectacular prospects. At least until his eyes swept over the final name on the roster. Suddenly, he shot up in his chair.
“Nicolo Piersanti’s on the roster?”
It was him. The twenty-two-year-old Italian forward who was more popular with lovesick teenagers than with hardcore sports fans. His image graced Tumblr every thirteen seconds but had yet to make it in any issue of ESPN the Magazine. Scouts paid little attention to him, though an American fashion house had signed the six-foot-eight Sicilian to model for a cheesy underwear spread about a year ago. That was about it for him when it came to any overseas attention. It made sense that he would be attempting to gain exposure by participating in the International Tourney, but Gavin still couldn’t wrap his mind around it. Holy shit, I can’t wait to meet this asshole, he shook his head in disbelief.
“Uh.” Elliot’s eyes darted about Gavin’s face of astonishment. “Am I missing something? Should I know more about this kid?” he asked, cocking his head. “Or do you have some weird boner for him because you’re as gay as I hear you are?”
Gavin paused. “What?”
“I don’t know, man.” Elliot laughed, leaning back again and resting his beefy arms on the top of the couch. “I might or might not have hooked up with one of your castoffs last week and she might or might not have told me about how you lose all interest by the next morning. Like you’re only into chicks for show, when you’re at the club and in front of the clients.”
Gavin laughed. “That’s an interesting theory.”
“Which… isn’t true, right?”
“Nope.”
“Then try to clear it up because that little rumor is making its rounds. Get yourself a girlfriend or something.” Elliot held his hands out when Gavin made a face. “I mean, bro, I’m not saying you can’t have fun on the side, too. I’m just saying, pick one of those pretty faces to play the girlfriend role for like, a year so you can squash the rumors.”
“I’m not interested in having a girlfriend, Smiley. Real or fake.”
“Come on, of all the fuckin’ gorgeous girls you’ve taken home in the past year, there wasn’t one who you wanted more than once?”
“No. They’re too different from me.”
“Yeah, because they don’t have penises, which you apparently require now in a romantic partner.”
“You nailed it.”
Elliot stared for a silent second. “Are you joking? I can’t tell if you’re…”
“I am joking, yes.”
Elliot let go of a breath. “Well, shit, you’re a better man than I am. I wouldn’t want people thinking for a second that I swung that way.”
“It doesn’t matter to me,” Gavin said, not bothering to explain that he used to actively joke about his sexuality. His way of showing appreciation for friends had always been through homoeroticism. It was just a thing of his. Though that part of his humor had been pushed back since the breakup, which had come around the same time as his hiring to Klein Sports Management. No one at the agency got his humor but it didn’t matter when he didn’t have the time to joke around anyway. It was his moment to throw himself into his work, to prove that he deserved his job despite landing it through connections from his Aunt Mira, who was good friends with the company founder, Aiden Klein.
“So… care to explain this massive erection you have for a kid who averaged nine points a game on a shitty squad?” Elliot asked.
Gavin’s swallowed. “Nope.”
“You’re gay then, aren’t you.”
“Sure.”
Shaking his head, Elliot got up, stretching his arms over his head. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep your secret. But it’ll cost you Holly’s number. And all your extra tickets to the Adidas party. If I can’t go, I’m at least gonna hook up a few lady friends.”
Gavin opened his drawer, pulling out a half dozen VIP passes hanging from strings. “Take them all. In fact, take my place on Thursday. I’ll scout the International Tourney for you.”
Elliot froze mid stretch. “Holy shit, you want to go to the International Tourney?” He gaped. “Oh my God, you’re fucking in love with Nicolo Piersanti, aren’t you?”
“I’m not in love with him.”
“What, you had a lover’s quarrel at some point? It didn’t work out long distance between you two?”
“Smiley, are you switching Thursday with me or not?”
“Fuck, consider it switched. I just switched so hard I almost fell over.” Elliot practically skipped up to Gavin’s desk, happily swiping his supply of VIP passes. “But you better be sure about this. You can’t change your mind after I leave your office, you fuckin’ Piersanti fangirl.”
“I’m more concerned about you changing your mind.”
“Don’t even worry about that,” Elliot snorted, pointing at Gavin as he did something resembling a moonwalk out of his office. “Now you have fun scouting those string beans, my dude. And good luck with closing Piersanti. Let me know if those tighty whities look as good on him in real life, okay?”
Gavin saluted him. “Will do, brother.”
~
“Holy — whoa.”
The Brooklyn arena was decently full and the crowd was beginning to cheer as players started jogging onto the hardwood. But breaking Gavin’s concentration from the court was a wind that the intern had caused by exhaling in awe.
“Dude.” Gavin made a face as he brushed the tingly feeling of the intern’s breath off of his cheek. “What’s up, Osborne?” He glanced over at Osborne, watching his eyes widen, his mouth open and close.
“Um. That girl?” His voice broke. “Who is she and why is she heading this way? Holy shit, she’s looking at me. Is she looking at me?”
Cocking his head curiously, Gavin followed Osborne’s undisturbed gaze until his own eyes landed upon the brilliant blonde strolling away from her camera crew. In heels, fitted jeans and a white top that stretched dangerously over her ample chest, she drew every set of eyes as she sauntered over toward Gavin’s courtside seats. Always the center of attention.
“She’s not looking at you, Oz,” Gavin laughed, standing the moment the smirking blonde reached his seat. He went in for the kiss on the cheek. It was just habit at this point and he knew he’d face endless sass if he were to give a simple hug. “Peyton. It’s been awhile.”
“And he still remembers my name. Aren’t I the lucky one?” Peyton asked no one in particular, cocking a skinny eyebrow. She stuck a hand on her hip, narrowing her hazel eyes at Gavin. “You follow me here, Hunter? I figured you’d be hitting on the escorts over at the Adidas party tonight.”
“Hey now.” Gavin slid his hands into his jean pockets, leaning back on his heels. “Be nice. They’re not escorts.”
They were the fitness and swimsuit models, the network of busty women that Klein Sports tended to call up when they threw events or entertained clients. And, of course, they were the girls that Gavin largely hooked up with, simply because they were already associated with work, and work was about all he had time for these days. At least that was what he told Peyton after ending their unofficial few months of dating.
“I’m being kind by calling them escorts, Hunter. I think you’re pretty aware of that yourself,” Peyton said, her long blonde waves spilling to the side as she cocked her head, finally noticing Osborne. “Something’s wrong with your rookie, by the way, he hasn’t blinked yet.”
“Neither have any of the other guys in this general vicinity. You’re suddenly unaware of the effect you have on them? If I remember correctly, you used to pride yourself on it.”
“Mm.” Peyton shrugged, puckering her glossy lips. “Guess it felt like I lost my touch since I had to walk all the way over here to get your attention. Kind of degrading, don’t you think?”
“Having to greet someone first? The worst kind of humiliation I could think of.”
Finally, Peyton broke into a smile. A real one, not a smirk. “What are you doing tonight?” She paused. “Or should I ask ‘who.’ I figure your bed is booked a couple months in advance at this point.”
Gavin snorted. “Clever. And I’m not sure yet. Probably dinner.”
“You inviting me?” Peyton asked, though it hardly felt like a question.
“Do I have a choice?”
Peyton smacked him, though she raised an eyebrow the moment her hand made contact with his hard chest. She rolled her eyes when she caught Gavin’s knowing grin. “Shut up. You’re an asshole, you know that, right?”
“They keep telling me that but I don’t feel like it’s true.”
An actual giggle escaped Peyton’s lips. “Call me tonight,” she said, leaning in to kiss the corner of his lips. A collective groan came from the men surrounding them, putting a sparkle in her eyes since she did always feed off of attention. “I’m gonna get back to my crew now. You better still be looking at me as I’m walking away,” she murmured, giving his chest a small scratch through his shirt before turning on her heel. Gavin grinned, giving her a little nod to send her off.
But once she was out of his eye line, he forgot his promise.
“Uh.” Osborne cleared his throat. “She’s looking back at you, dude. Should you be… okay, I’ll wave at her for you.”
A waving intern was probably the last thing Peyton wanted to see. Gavin laughed at Osborne but the sound didn’t quite come out since his attention was focused on the court. He ignored the strangers who gave him pats on the back for reasons he figured were related to Peyton. A few asked questions, but he could hardly process them as his eyes followed the lean and, he had to admit, handsome Italian giant on the court. Though as Gavin looked closer, he realized that Piersanti had gelled his hair. He had actually styled his hair for a basketball game. Jesus Christ, this guy.
“That’s crazy,” he heard Osborne breathe.
“I know. I bet he’s wearing cologne too.”
“What? Dude, I’m talking about Sportscaster Barbie over there. Everyone’s staring at her right now. And you. This is weird. Who is she? Is she famous?” Osborne continued to himself when Gavin didn’t respond. “Well, she should be famous. She just hijacked all the attention from this game,” he laughed. “Oh, you know what? Was that your ex that Smiley always talks about? You know, he and a bunch of guys from the office have been trying to ‘close’ with her for like, months but none of them have — ”
“Oz, shut the hell up and watch the game.”
“Okay, but you should know that you’re the man, Gavin!” Osborne whispered hastily before holding his hands up and going, “Sorry, sorry, watching now.”
~
Predictably, the two Spanish shooting guards drew all the post-game cameras, including Peyton’s. That was more than fine by Gavin.
“Barcelona guys are on that end of the court. Gavin. Where are you going?”
“Locker room.”
“Why?”
“Stop asking me questions, Oz.”
“Okay.”
Weaving through the press, Gavin went into the tunnel leading towards the locker rooms, Osborne trotting behind him.
“What’d you think of Nicolo Piersanti today?” Gavin asked, eyes straight ahead.
“Piersanti?” Osborne repeated, as if sure Gavin had surely meant to ask him about another player. “Uh, I think he gelled his hair for a basketball game is what I think. I think he should’ve dedicated more time to his jumper than his ringlets is what I think.”
Gavin snorted, decidedly forgetting about the defensive strengths he’d noticed. “Agreed on the ringlets,” he said seriously. “Also, don’t forget the missed free throws.”
“He airballed two in a row! Who does that?” Osborne threw his arms in the air incredulously. “And if you’re gonna miss most of your shots you should at least work on a game face. Like, what the hell, why is he always happy and smiling? Doesn’t he know that he sucks?”
“Yeah.” Gavin laughed. “It’s a good-looking smile, though.”
Osborne halted mid-step. “What?”
“He’s a good-looking guy.”
Osborne paused, starting his step again slowly. “Uh. Yeah, I guess. I wasn’t really looking at him that way. I can tell you who I was looking at that way though, and that was your frickin’ smoking hot ex, sorry to say.” Gavin cringed as he felt another one of Osborne’s whooshing breaths on the back of his neck. “You’re… a lucky man. Can you spread the wealth and invite me to wherever you and Peyton are going tonight? Maybe she has friends that I can… just look at, basically. Unless they’re into pasty dudes who are like, ten to twenty pounds overweight, give or take. Which could possibly happen. Maybe God hooked me up with a soul mate who is just completely out of my league. But my soul mate nonetheless.”
Gavin snorted as they reached the locker room, where only a few members of the press were interviewing the lesser-known players. “You can come out with me tonight, Oz.”
“Really?”
“But you gotta be at the office early tomorrow in case I get there late.”
“Hangover protocol, I know.”
“Also, I don’t think I’m going out with Peyton tonight. Sorry.”
“Ooh, okay. Whose the lucky girl then?”
Gavin laughed. “The lucky guy?” he corrected. “He’s right over there,” he said, ignoring Osborne’s confusion as he made a beeline for Piersanti, who despite sitting alone, had the attention of the only two females in the room — they looked to be PR girls who were going about their work while expertly keeping one eye on Piersanti and his half naked form.
While most players had already taken off their jerseys, Gavin could see that Piersanti had already shed his entire damned uniform. Hunched in front of his locker in just a pair of black boxer briefs, he tugged at the ends of the white towel draped around his neck, bearing the unmistakable posture of a defeated man. Gavin wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or feel kind of bad. The guy looked like a cartoon depiction of utter disappointment. As he approached, he could hear him sighing dramatically and muttering rapidly to himself in Italian. Gavin scratched his head as he stood behind Piersanti’s chair, briefly unsure about whether or not to interrupt the solo conversation.
“Hey, uh. Nicolo.”
“Hello!”
Gavin nearly stumbled back as Piersanti spun and stood before him in one swift motion. Surprised by his instantly zealous greeting, his gaze darted between Piersanti’s enormous smile and his outstretched hand. For a moment, he wondered if he had actually met the guy before and if there was a reason behind his immediate joy.
“Hello,” Piersanti repeated, his smile truly more brilliant in person than it appeared in print ads. Perfectly white and straight, it actually dazzled and made Gavin’s own lips kind of turn upward. “You are a reporter?”
“Oh.” Gavin quickly understood Piersanti’s excitement. “Uh, no, I’m not,” he answered, watching Piersanti’s posture and expression instantly falter, though he seemed intent on keeping a polite smile for Gavin, even if it slightly quivered at the ends. “Sorry. My name’s Ga — ” Gavin caught himself. “Garrett.” He ignored Osborne’s look of total confusion as he continued. “I’m with Klein Sports Management.”
“Klein Sports Management!” Piersanti’s zeal was quickly renewed. He clapped his gigantic hands together once, the thunderous sound making Gavin blink. “Dante Gibson is just signed with Klein Sports Management! I play against him last year when he try for the junior national team.” He swiped his hand through the air quickly, making a zipping sound. “So fast his feet.”
“Yeah, he’s really fast. And that’s cool, I didn’t know that you played against him,” Gavin said truthfully. But then again, he’d never paid a lick of attention to Piersanti until about four months ago. “Well, listen. I was watching you on the court before. I know you didn’t really have your best performance today but I saw something in your game that really interested me and I was wondering if you wanted to meet for dinner tonight, maybe talk a little about the prospect of playing in the States.”
Bringing his hands together as if in prayer, Piersanti’s eyes sparkled wide. “I always dream of playing for the NBA! I dream forever. This is why I come here to play today.”
“I know.”
“Ah!” Piersanti shook his head, his prayer hands now curling into giddy fists in front of his mouth. “Garrett!” He reached for his hand again, shaking it vigorously as his brown eyes crinkled up at the ceiling in disbelief. “I thought no one will talk to me today because my performance on the court… it was so bad. But you make me full of relief. I thought the chances… I thought I ruin them already.” He laughed at himself. “You are a agent?”
Gavin blinked. “Yeah.” He swallowed before eyeing his once again puzzled intern, grateful that Osborne wasn’t the type to speak up. “I’m an agent.”
“Incredible! Ah, I thought I…” he lowered his voice to a whisper. “Fuck up already. I thought I miss my chance.”
“No. Everyone gets more than one chance.”
“Yes, it’s true.” Caramel curls fell over Piersanti’s eyes as he bowed his head while clasping Gavin’s hands between his. “Thank you, Garrett, for your invitation. I will absolutely love to go to dinner with you.”
Ignoring a weird snort from Osborne, Gavin nodded, slightly confused by the genuine nature of his own smile. “Awesome, man. I look forward to it.”
~
Gavin smiled wide as he crossed the cobblestone street to approach the door of his favorite restaurant, Lilac. Adjusting his black skinny tie, he shook his head at Osborne, clucking with disapproval.
“I knew you’d invite him, you ass. This your date for tonight?” he asked the intern, who stood guiltily next to Elliot Smiley. Elliot smirked, smoothing down yet another one of his Loro Piana suits.
“Hey, I don’t think you’re in the place to make gay jokes here. Considering the confirmation Oz has given me that you do in fact reserve your hard-on for Nicolo Piersanti.”
Gavin shrugged. “I’m a sucker for ringlets. And I’m guessing you are too since you left the Adidas party to be here. What happened to hunting for a bunch of Holly lookalikes?”
“Those I can find any day, but it’s a rare occasion that I get to witness Gavin Hunter come out of the closet.” Elliot held his phone up. “And in front of my future wife, Peyton, whom I’ve invited, by the way. Oz told me that you planned on leaving her in the dark about tonight’s dinner. Extremely rude, but don’t worry, I fixed the situation.”
Gavin swallowed the groan rising from his throat. “All good by me,” he lied, pulling open the front door. “Come on. Let’s go.”
He strolled ahead of the guys, heading toward the back of the dimly lit restaurant and to his usual booth. Upon reaching it, he was dismayed to discover Peyton waiting at their table instead of Piersanti.
“Oh… hey.” Gavin slightly tilted his head as he raised his eyebrows at her. She didn’t usually wear revealing dresses — she’d always claimed that true beauties could nab all the attention without showing much skin — but tonight, her outfit appeared painted onto her body. Gavin couldn’t help but stare for a few seconds, even as she sauntered over with smug satisfaction.
“Asshole,” Peyton greeted him. “I’m going to pretend that you told Smiley to invite me tonight because you were truly a very busy boy and you couldn’t be bothered to pick up your phone.”
“Sure,” Gavin said simply, hands in his pockets though his eyes dipped down the front of her nude bandage dress. Peyton’s lips wiggled into a triumphant grin.
“Saw that. Tell me how good I look tonight.”
“You look good tonight.”
She shook her head, removing his hands from his pockets and placing them onto her hips. “I know you can do better than that, Hunter,” she purred as she slid his palms to her backside. Without her direction, he gave it a hard squeeze. It was instinct. “Mm. See? Now tell me how good I look,” she repeated.
“You look insanely fucking good, Peyton. Happy?”
“I’m not sure. Who’s in your bed tonight?”
“You.” He wasn’t lying. There had been a reason as to why he’d broken up with her, but he couldn’t remember it with two fistfuls of her ass in his hands.
“Then I’m happy,” she murmured before pulling him back towards the table, where Elliot and Osborne were already awkwardly seated. “Now show me that you remember what I like to order.” She handed him a menu as the server approached their table.
Oh yeah. There was that side of her.
Unlike the Hollys, Peyton could more than carry her own weight in conversation, but she had always taken a bit too much pride in having others do things for her. But as Osborne put it, she was smoking hot and whenever it was past a certain hour at night, things like baby voices and bossiness didn’t bother Gavin much. All he needed were a few drinks to forget that he really only liked girls who made him laugh.
Unless, apparently, Nicolo Piersanti was around.
“Ah, I am very sorry to be late.”
Gavin rose immediately from the table upon hearing Piersanti’s voice. “Hey! I’m glad you made it, man.” He let Piersanti get halfway through his introductions to the table before ushering him away, making some excuse about more easily getting a drink at the bar.
Though of course, he mostly wanted to avoid having his sports agent cover blown since Elliot would be more than glad to out his status as an executive assistant. Because of him — and also Peyton — Gavin led Piersanti past the bar and up a small flight of stairs to Lilac’s mezzanine, an area of the restaurant-lounge that was closed off to the public. His own access had almost solely to do with the fact that his step-uncle, Hudson, owned the place.
Raising his eyebrows, Piersanti had a look around, seemingly oblivious to the stares as he nodded and grinned, taking a peek over the cast iron balcony. He looked even taller in a skinny tie and slim fit black suit. Only after noticing this did Gavin realize that he and Piersanti were wearing nearly identical outfits. He glanced down at his own body, annoyed at himself for wondering who looked better. While quietly debating to himself, he felt a tap on his shoulder.
“Earth to Gavin.”
Head snapping up, Gavin blinked, registering the familiar pretty face in front of him.
“Hey.” Shit. Her name was buried at the very back of her head. Eyes darting about her, Gavin searched for any clues that would help as he sifted the mental notes in his head. Crazy hair, amazing lips… nose piercing. He remembered that little heart shaped stud. “Noelle,” Gavin smiled. She had a jewelry store in Soho that she’d named after herself. “How have you been?” He kissed her cheek as she stuck it out for him.
“I don’t know.” Noelle clasped her hands together, shrugging her tanned shoulders inward so that her cleavage plunged. “Mad at you for never calling?” She smirked when she caught him briefly eyeing her neckline. “But you could make it up to me by either buying me a drink or introducing me to your sexy giant.”
Perfect. Gavin grinned, raising a finger to flag the cocktail waitress. “I can do both.” After ordering, he placed a hand on the leather part of Noelle’s dress, ushering her over to the cast iron balcony and to Piersanti, who seemed to quickly sense the presence of a pretty girl. He turned around immediately, pleasing both Gavin and Noelle for different reasons. Gavin shook his head. What a dirty bastard.
“Hello!”
But Piersanti’s impassioned greeting for Noelle was no different from the one he’d given Gavin in the locker room earlier. Gavin squinted, unsure of how to interpret that.
“I’m Nicolo. You are Garrett’s girlfriend?”
Gavin felt his shoulders slump. “No, Nicolo. Not my girlfriend.”
“Ah.” Piersanti raised his eyebrows, nodding politely as he waited for an explanation. Noelle provided it, and with the forward nature that Gavin suddenly remembered about her.
“No, honey. I’m interested in you.”
“Ah.” The prayer hands appeared once again as Piersanti smiled apologetically. “But I have a girlfriend.”
Noelle threw her head back and groaned. “Of course you do.”
“Is she here?” Gavin asked.
“No, she is back in Italy. But I, uh,” Piersanti held his palms up around his shoulders, wavering from side to side, “She means everything.”
Noelle held a hand to her heart, cooing as the cocktail waitress approached. Plucking her martini off of the tray, she turned to face Gavin. “He’s too sweet. You should take a lesson from this guy. Asshole.” She winked, sipping her drink as she clicked away in her stilettos. Gavin heaved a sigh.
“You have no girlfriend?” Piersanti asked curiously.
“No. Last one was Peyton downstairs. The blonde.”
“She was a serious girlfriend?” When Gavin shook his head, Piersanti followed up his question. “Who was the last serious girlfriend?”
Gavin swallowed hard, unsure if he wanted to talk about it. He took in a deep breath. “This girl I met at a wedding. The wedding of the guy who owns this restaurant, actually. Awesome girl. Funniest person I know. You know, besides myself,” he joked.
Piersanti blinked. “You’re funny?”
Gavin looked at him, though he didn’t know what to say in response.
“You… are serious, no?” Piersanti shrugged. “But maybe you like to joke at home?”
Gavin laughed. “Eh. Not really. I’m not much of a… joker, I guess. Not since we broke up.”
Piersanti bowed his head sadly. “Why you’re not together anymore?”
“We tried for almost two years. Biggest thing was that we lived too far apart. I was here, she was across the country. Sometimes Prague, sometimes Spain, depending on where her job took her. If there was anyone worth trying to make that shit work with though, it was her. But in the end, it was still too hard.”
Piersanti nodded. “You loved her?”
Gavin winced as he rubbed the back of his neck.
“Ah, you did. But you never told her because you were a funny guy, you liked to joke.”
Gavin stared, unblinking. He wasn’t sure Piersanti even knew what he was talking about for someone who was so strangely accurate. “I… it’s hard enough to talk and be open about things when you’re with a girl. It’s harder when you’re with her but you never actually see each other in person. I mean she was used to that life but I wasn’t. And I was in a transition period coming out of college. I was trying to act like everything was fine but I couldn’t find a job, still acted like a kid, wasn’t making my own money yet while she was already out there and successful and… I don’t know. Thought she deserved better.” Gavin’s eyes fluttered, perplexed but mostly surprised by his own sudden admission. He swallowed, eyeing Piersanti self-consciously. “Jesus. Anyway.” He decided to transition into the topic that he’d been waiting to hear about most. “Tell me what your girlfriend’s like.”
“My girlfriend?” Piersanti raised his dark brows. His eyes crinkled into a smile. “She’s the reason I will not leave this country in tears. My heart is in America but when I think of seeing her, I’m happy to go home.”
“What if you got to the NBA? Would she follow you?”
“Oh, she will! I want to play for Los Angeles. Lakers or Clippers, I don’t care. I will play for Warriors or Kings too, if I must. I want California.”
“What, no love for New York?”
Piersanti shrugged. “But I am originally from Sicily. I like the sun. My girlfriend too. We are accustom to good weather.”
Gavin nodded. “How’d you meet her?”
“My girlfriend? I, ah…” Piersanti rubbed his chin while wincing and making a goofy face. He shook his head. “It will sound strange to you.”
Gavin felt himself laughing already. “I’m sure it will, but let’s hear it.”
“I… at a restaurant in Ozieri. It is close to Sassari, where I play basketball. She is with her friends, I am with my teammates. My teammates, they ask the waiter, ‘Can you tell the girl there to be quieter? She is too loud.’ The waiter says ‘yes’ and he goes to her table. He comes back and he is holding a very good bottle of wine. He says, ‘The girl would like to buy you a bottle of wine because you are not loud enough.’” Piersanti grinned, the memory visibly sparkling in his eye. “I say to the waiter, ‘Then I would like to buy her champagne. Please pick the best bottle you have.’ The waiter picks a bottle but he returns to our table. ’The girl has enough wine and champagne. She would like you to buy her your favorite dish on the menu. But sir, I am very sorry, our kitchen has closed and our chef has gone home. We have packed away everything but in the basement, we have casu marzu.’”
“What’s casu marzu?”
“It is an illegal cheese in Sardinia.”
Gavin burst out laughing so hard that Piersanti laughed too. “What the hell? What kind of toxic-ass cheese is this?”
“It is a cheese with live maggots.”
“Oh shit.” Gavin’s face fell, his amusement replaced with a horror that Piersanti laughed at as well.
“Garrett, I am born in Italy, raised in Italy. I love three things: basketball, my mother, and food. But I have never eaten casu marzu. I don’t know anybody who eats casu marzu.” He shook his head, grim for a second as if imagining the bug-infested dairy. Slowly, however, a smile touched the corners of his lips. “But this girl at the restaurant? My teammates, they think it’s funny to send her the casu marzu. I tell the waiter, ‘No, she is not from Sardinia. The casu marzu will disgust her. Please do not put the cheese on her table.’”
Gavin was riveted. “But they did it anyway?”
Piersanti nodded. “My teammates say to her it is my favorite dish, she must eat it. And the girl, her friends are screaming but she is laughing. She drinks her wine and she says, ‘Chi non risica, non rosica! Mangia e statti zito!’”
“What’s that mean?”
“He who risks nothing gains nothing! Now shut up and eat!”
Gavin felt a wide and real smile spread his lips. “That’s awesome. And she ate it?”
Piersanti covered his mouth and squeezed his eyes shut for a second, appearing to be reliving trauma. Gavin burst out laughing. “Yes. She ate the cheese. And what happened on her second bite?” Piersanti drew a high arch in the air with his finger. “The maggot jump off her bread.”
“Oh Christ, I would’ve shit myself.”
“I shit myself.”
Gavin howled. “What?”
“I mean I was close. I felt I was.”
Gavin couldn’t contain his laughter. It actually tingled and hurt in his cheeks. He hadn’t laughed so hard in awhile. “So that made you fall in love with her.”
“She ate this terrible cheese for me. Would it not make you fall in love with her?”
He considered it. “I think I’m already in love with her.”
Piersanti beamed. “Exactly. This girl was so brave, so funny, so beautiful. I said to her, ‘Please let me take you to dinner, but understand if I do not kiss you on the first date. I just watched you eat the casu marzu.’” He shrugged, pressing his lips into a tight-lipped smile. “Eh. But then I kiss her that night.”
Gavin wiped a surprise tear from the corner of his eye as he came down from his fit of laughter. “Awesome. So by the transitive property, you ate maggot cheese that night too.”
“Yes! She use this same expression!”
Gavin laughed. “Nice.” He shook his head. “Goddamn. Sounds like a dream girl.”
~
Groggily wiping at his face, Gavin wasn’t sure if it was the bright light or Peyton’s sharp voice that made him wince.
“What in the hell are you doing out here, Hunter?”
He opened his eyes, squinting into the sun until Peyton’s body moved in front of it. Her lip curling, she ripped away the blanket that Gavin had managed to carry out with him in the night.
“Do you care to finally talk to me and tell me what the fuck you think you’re doing to me here? Like it wasn’t enough that you left me at dinner alone last night with your fat intern and fucking Elliot Smiley? Why did you even take me home if you weren’t interested?”
Gavin rubbed his eye as he recalled Peyton having waited for him outside of the front door of Lilac, catching him upon his exit from the restaurant. She’d climbed into his cab and he hadn’t said anything in protest. His mind had been too occupied. And it wasn’t as if she didn’t look good.
“Jesus Christ, are you seriously going to ignore me right now?”
Gavin ran a hand over his face, finally focusing his eyes on Peyton, her hair a mess as she stood before him in one of his Beauford Athletics T-shirts. He grimaced. “What?”
“Did you hear a word of what I just said?”
“I’m sorry, I was thinking.”
“About what?” Peyton fumed. “Nicolo fucking Piersanti?”
Gavin squinted at her. “Actually, yeah.”
She stared. “Oh. My. God.” Chucking the blanket back onto his body, Peyton grabbed a handful of her already messy blonde hair, her long legs storming back into the apartment. Gavin’s lips parted to form some sort of apology but all that came out was a strange sigh. Frowning, he blinked straight ahead at the view of blue sky and Midtown high rises.
When he returned to his bedroom, he found Peyton tearing through his closet. “I’m not doing the walk of shame in my dress, asshole,” she explained through gritted teeth. “I won’t.”
Gavin knit his brows together as he rubbed his temple. “That’s fine, I don’t want you to,” he murmured, opening his drawers and looking for the thin, soft sweaters that his ex-girlfriend had loved and borrowed so often that he’d considered them hers. Lifting some old T-shirts, Gavin located the pile. But as his fingers touched each sweater for the first time since they’d brushed her skin, he decided suddenly that he didn’t want Peyton wearing even one of them.
But as it turned out, she did just fine making herself an outfit of his other pieces of clothing. Impressed, Gavin checked out the way her lithe body pulled off his jeans, letting them hang slightly below her hip bones with the bottoms cuffed messily above her thin ankles. He wanted to tell her that she had on his favorite Beauford Athletics shirt — the one he’d worn in so perfectly — but he decided against it. She was upset enough as it was. Plus, she’d knotted it to look stylish enough for even him to notice. He figured she somewhat deserved it at this point.
“I’m leaving now,” Peyton grumbled, marching out of his room with her nude bandage dress in her hands. Gavin was still for a second but then he followed.
“Peyton.”
Spinning on one stiletto heel, she dug the other into the ground. “What?”
“I’m sorry about stringing you along yesterday. Or doing anything that hurt you. I didn’t mean to.” He swallowed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I broke up with you last year because I was in a bad place where I was thinking about my ex and I didn’t want you to deal with me when I couldn’t give you the attention you deserved. You deserve that attention, trust me, and you’d get it from anyone else who was in his right mind, but I’m not. If I wasn’t ready for a new relationship last year, I’m even less ready now.” Gavin chewed his lip for a moment. “I shouldn’t have brought you home last night. I’m sorry if I misled you in any way.”
Crossing her arms, Peyton stared hard at the floor in front of him, her jaw tightening and un-tightening. “Fine.” She kept her eyes on the floor, quiet for a moment. “Who is she, anyway.”
“A girl.” He paused. “Not Nicolo Piersanti.”
Still annoyed, Peyton fought the smile tugging at her lips. “What the fuck is up with you two, anyway?”
Gavin grinned. “He makes me laugh.”
“God, shut up. You’re so stupid.”
“He reminds me of the good days.”
Peyton rolled her eyes, though she actually let herself breathe a little laugh. She was silent for another few seconds. “So, what, are you trying to get back together with your girl?”
Gavin shook his head. “Not anymore.”
“Then why waste time being hung up over her?”
Gavin shifted his weight, feeling suddenly as naked as he was. “I mean. I don’t want to be.”
“But you can’t stop thinking about her.”
Gavin shrugged his answer, frowning.
Peyton uncrossed her arms, hooking her thumbs into the pockets of his jeans. She nodded, kicking her leg out to spin herself back around to face the door. “Yeah. Just get her back, Gavin,” she said, making her way out of the apartment. “You obviously want to.”
“I can’t. She moved in with someone in December.”
“God, she told you?”
“My sister slipped. They’re still best friends.”
Peyton paused as she opened his front door. She squinted, twisting her body to peer at Gavin. “Oh, them,” she whispered with realization. “Christ,” she laughed. “I forgot you were tied to that world. All that… Hollywood shit.”
“Yup.”
“Don’t just ‘yup’ though, go after her, dumbass. Fly to L.A or wherever she is. Everyone deserves to be happy.” Peyton cringed jokingly. “Even you.”
“Har.” Gavin cracked a small smile.
“Seriously, Hunter. Pretty sure I haven’t seen you actually happy since knowing you. I swear to God, the happiest I saw you was when Nicolo Piersanti showed up to dinner last night, which I know is probably crazy, but I saw it.” She laughed, shaking her head at herself. “Anyway. Really. Find her. Be happy together. Life’s short, yada yada.”
Gavin managed a laugh. “I think she’s pretty happy where she is.”
“You sure about that?”
“Yeah. I’m sure.”
Peyton pressed her lips together, offering him a bit of a sad shrug. “I’m sorry then.” She sighed. “Guess you can’t beat the L.A sun.”
Gavin simply stood for a moment, scratching the back of his head before taking a glance at the clock. “Yeah. Anyway. I gotta get dressed.”
Peyton cooed. “What, did we max out your man quota of talking about feelings?”
Gavin shook his head at her, giving a grin. “Get out of here, okay?”
She smirked. “Gladly. Asshole.”
Flinging the door open, Peyton showed herself out.
~
“Oz. Damn it, kid. Just let me get to my office first.”
Gavin laughed, speeding his walk up as he noticed Osborne from across the room, weaving clumsily through the cubicles to reach him.
“I did what you asked me to, Gavin. I always do what you ask me to. Shouldn’t I get to ask you some questions sometimes?” Osborne demanded.
Gavin looked at him, at his heaving chest and his ruddy cheeks. He sighed. “Yeah. Alright.” He nodded into his office, watching Osborne stumble in before him, sliding into one of the seats across from his big leather desk chair.
“Here. Aiden’s watching it right now but I made you an extra copy. Twenty-four minutes of Piersanti’s highlights, defensive sequences only.” Osborne slid a DVD across the desk once Gavin was seated. “He is fast, I’ll give you that. Super fast for six-foot-eight. He rebounds, he does get good blocks with those… fuckin’ big-ass hands and he gets some really good steals, too. And yes, he alters the opponent’s shot with his defense and gets shit done that doesn’t show up in the box score.” Osborne shook his head. “But he’s a complete offensive liability. He can’t make a basket. And he never even played in Euroleague. I don’t see him piquing the interest of any NBA teams, let alone the Clippers, Warriors or Lakers. The Kings, maybe. Just maybe.”
Gavin took the DVD. “Oz. All I asked was for you to edit the footage. It’s not your business if I want to waste my time making a case for Piersanti’s representation.”
“Gavin. Aiden Klein makes me shit my pants and you just made me force Piersanti’s crappy highlights on him first thing in the morning because you were too hung over to get over here early. I’m a fucking intern. I could put milk in his coffee instead of soy and get fired.”
“Dude, Aiden’s cool if you don’t act like you’re about to shit your pants around him all the time. No one likes a pants shitter.”
“Gavin, can you take me seriously for once?”
“Fine.”
“Okay.” Osborne let go of a breath. He frowned. “So. I wanna know why you lied to Piersanti. About your name and about being an agent. I didn’t tell Smiley or anyone ‘cause I thought you were just taking the guy out for shits and giggles since he’s like, a pretty boy and kind of goofy and it’d be funny to laugh at him for one night. But now you’re actually trying to pull like, a favor for him or something and I’m just wondering what’s going on here because I feel like an accomplice right now.”
Gavin laughed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you fear for your job or anything. I just…” He made a face. “I did start out kind of fucking around with him. I thought Piersanti was a goofball too, and not a fun one, an annoying one. I thought he fucking sucked, honestly. On the court, off the court. But it just…”
“Turned into something different? You got more Piersanti than you bargained for? You’re both lovers now or something? What the hell’s going on?”
Gavin laughed with irritation, throwing a hand in the air. “Christ, Oz, he’s a good kid and I want him to have a good life, okay? Plus, I can name two dozen NBA players who can’t score but sign multi-million dollar contracts based solely on their defense — defense that’s not even as good as Piersanti’s. Alright?”
Swallowing, Osborne’s gaze flickered to his hands, which he wrenched in his lap. “Alright. Sorry. I’m just curious as to why you went from making fun of the guy to being so invested in him. I have one month for Klein Sports to decide if they want to hire me out of my internship. I just want to understand my surroundings and do a good job here.”
Gavin nodded. “I know. But you’re gonna be fine, Oz, trust me. I’ll make sure you’re fine.”
“Thank you.” Though his eyes remained in his lap, the frown between Osborne’s brows slowly faded. He rubbed his nose. “Then can you just tell me, for my own personal curiosity, why you singled out Piersanti?” He looked up at Gavin. “I mean, I guess it was serendipity that you were just fucking around with him and then you discovered real talent but you were like, a man on a mission that day. You had Piersanti on the brain before you even sat down, considering you only volunteered to scout the tourney for Smiley when you heard he was on the roster. So, please don’t mind me for asking but… who is he to you, really?”
It was Gavin’s turn to swallow as he looked down at his hands. Upon realizing that he was twiddling his thumbs, he stopped. “He’s…” Gavin laughed to himself. “Honestly? I’m envious of him, Oz. He’s younger than me, he was playing professional basketball while I was warming the bench for Syracuse, he’s a good kid, he’s happy, he’s in love, he’s got the fucking life that I want. There. Feel awkward yet?”
Osborne stared at the desk, quiet as he wet his lips. “A little, yeah. Didn’t expect you to have such… girly feelings considering… whatever.”
“Yeah.”
“But it’s cool.” Osborne rose from his seat. “I mean I think you’re leaving some things out, but it’s cool. I’m not gonna press for any more details because you are… wow. Your face is really red right now. Are you blushing or are you… constipated? What is this expression here?”
Gavin shook his head, smirking at Osborne. “What, you get a small confession out of me and suddenly you’re a trash talker? What happened to Pants Shitting Osborne?”
“I think you just set him free. Gavin Hunter’s humility sets interns free.”
“You’re an asshole,” Gavin snorted. “Well if you want the details, I can give them to you. I just don’t know if you can handle the truth.”
“Oh, I can handle the truth.”
“Can you?”
“Totally.”
“Alright, you ready?”
Osborne pushed his sleeves up jokingly. “I’m ready.”
Gavin snorted. Despite the faint laugh on his lips, his eyes were hard as he watched Osborne.
“Okay, give it to me, brother.” Osborne nodded seriously. And though he jogged in place, comically clapping his hands above his head, Gavin’s jaw tightened, his smile fading fully.
“Piersanti’s dating my ex-girlfriend, Zoe. They live together in Italy.”
Osborne’s face dropped. The color slowly drained from his ruddy cheeks. He’d been in the midst of some weird victory jig too, but he stopped. “Holy shit, dude. I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright.”
“Since when?”
“December. Around then.”
Osborne’s eyes darted about. “Dude. That’s… that’s rough. Why would you help him then?"
“Like I said, it didn’t start that way.” Gavin busied himself by rearranging his desk, though nothing needed to be rearranged. “She’s just a really good girl who deserves to be happy. And if that guy makes her happy, then he deserves to be happy too. I’ll get him drafted and they can have a good life together in L.A. She deserves it.”
Osborne had his hand clasped to his forehead. “Dude. You’re crazy. And I think you’re a masochist.”
Gavin shrugged. “I want her to be happy.”
“What about you?”
“I fucked up. I missed my chance. Sometimes that happens."
Osborne shook his head. “Everybody gets more than one chance. I mean that’s what you told Piersanti.”
“Osborne, are you serious? I was bullshitting him.”
“But look how it turned out for him. Everything happens for a reason, dude. If it was meant to be, it ends up falling in place. And apparently, Piersanti was meant to be in the NBA. You know?”
Gavin stared. “Oz, I know we kind of just had a moment before but you need to leave my office now because you just ruined it with that fluffy bullshit.”
Laughing, Osborne held his hands up, backing his way out of the office. “Fine. But you know you want to believe me. I’m not Pants Shitting Osborne anymore. I know what I’m talking about.”
“Out, Oz.”
“Alright. I’m out.”
~
Gavin stretched, his eyes fluttering open to face his white ceiling. He was in his own bed. Processing his surroundings, he turned to the left and then to the right. Clear. He raised his eyebrows at himself, nodding his head against his memory foam pillow. Good job, Hunter.
Emerging from his bedroom in a pair of navy boxer briefs, Gavin turned on the TV. SportsCenter, as usual. He wasn’t sure if his LCD screen had seen any other channel in the past year-and-a-half. It was too risky. No matter what program he turned to, despite how much less coverage she received while overseas, he saw Zoe. If it wasn’t Zoe, it was a reminder of Zoe. Like Harper, even Gemma.
But today, to go with his usual bacon and eggs, Gavin replaced sports with entertainment news.
And within thirty-five minutes, he saw Zoe.
Whoosh. He let out an Osborne-type breath.
There was a story being reported — something or another about a TV show — but the audio didn’t interest him. He was too busy seeing Zoe. Finally letting himself have a good look at her since the breakup. She was so damned gorgeous.
“Christ,” Gavin breathed, half wincing-half smiling as he watched the old footage. It was from a red carpet, back when they were still dating because he remembered that saffron gown, the way her skin glowed against it as she’d twirled for him, blowing a kiss at him through their video chat before she had to leave for whatever premiere it was. His mouth parting, Gavin simply stared at the program, watching Zoe strut about and steal the show, more beautiful than any other woman in Hollywood with that wild hair and infectious glee. Even through the TV screen, through two-year-old footage, she drew a smile out of him as he sat on his couch.
And sitting there in his boxer briefs, his breakfast mostly uneaten, Gavin finally let himself watch Zoe, to think about her and remember her rather than try to pretend that she never existed or try to replace her with various fitness models with the same wild, dark hair. He listened to the sound of her voice, possibly rewinding once or twice to again hear the part where she laughed. It was kind of freakish but he couldn’t help it. It made him feel… happy. To remember that once, there had been a girl who could lift his spirits just by speaking and make his week by simply smiling. Someone who knew every side of him — the serious one, the goofy one, the one that made jokes about being in love with Damian. Someone he felt like himself around.
“Shit.” Maybe he had made a mistake by helping Piersanti. Suddenly, Gavin felt himself hanging on the stupid words of his intern.
If it was meant to be, it ends up falling in place.
It could be true. Right?
Gavin shook his head, laughing at himself. “Fucking Osborne.” He leaned back on the couch, forcing himself to turn the TV off.
It was definitely bullshit.