The fresh ocean breeze blows my curls away from my face, and the warm sand slides between my toes as Indy and I step onto the beach right outside our hotel. South Florida’s evening temperature is perfectly warm, which is a nice reprieve after spending the last six months traveling to some of the coldest cities in North America.
“You’re sure you’re okay with this?” I ask my coworker as we make our walk over to one of the beach-front bars on the main strip in Fort Lauderdale.
“I’m good.” Indy shrugs. “I mean, I lost my apartment and my boyfriend. If we get in trouble and I lose my job, I’ll just add that to the list.”
Her tone has sarcasm embedded in it, but I don’t think she’s kidding. She’s been down and defeated these last few weeks, and keeping her job is relatively low on her priority list.
Fitting, really, because that same concern has been rapidly dropping for the things I find to be important in my life while being allowed in public with my boyfriend is quickly rising.
“And I have no shame in throwing myself at a professional athlete,” she continues. “I’ll lose my job and let him pay for all the shit I can’t afford, like moving out of my parents’ house.”
I slip my arms through hers, eyeing her with a bit of worry. “Let’s go get you a drink and some attention from men who are ten times more attractive and successful than your ex.”
My brother’s teammate, Dom, rushes me the second we walk into the bar, a beer outstretched in his hand. “Little Shay! I got you a drink.” His attention slides to my left, finding my stunning blonde-haired friend. “Holy hello, ma’am.”
“Dom, this is Indy. Indy, this is Ryan’s teammate, Dom.”
Dom’s moment of shock shifts, transforming back to his typical swagged-out self. “What am I buying you to drink?”
Indy eyes the beers in his hand, one for him and one for me. “Alcohol,” she says, stealing a bottle from his hold and chugging it as quickly as possible.
Dom’s eyes widen in shock as he watches her. “I’ll um...I’ll go buy you another one, little Shay.” He scratches the back of his neck in bewilderment.
“Don’t worry about it. I’m not sure that I’m drinking tonight.”
I hadn’t made that decision until now, but seeing Indy in this state and knowing Zanders plays tomorrow and is probably taking it easy tonight, the more I’d rather stay sober.
We follow Dom to the rest of his team, but the high-top tables scattered around the bar consist of an equal mix of Chicago’s basketball and hockey players. A few of the guys from the Raptors give a questioning look to my coworker and me, never once seeing us outside of the airplane or in different clothing other than our uniforms. But when my brother stands, taking two quick strides and wrapping me up in a hug, that’s when the eyes of the boys I work for begin to practically bug out of their heads.
I figured tonight would be the night everyone found out that my brother is the point guard for Chicago’s basketball team, and surprisingly, I don’t really care. The insecurities I once held about people using me to get closer to my sibling aren’t as strong anymore. Or at least, I now know how to spot the differences and stand up for what I deserve.
Regardless, too many eyes are staring at me in confusion as silence overtakes the somewhat crowded bar.
“You guys can all chill the fuck out,” Zanders calls out to the rest of his teammates as he stands at a table in the back with Maddison and Rio.
“How do you know Ryan Shay?” one of the younger guys, Thompson, from the Raptors asks.
Standing next to my brother, it’s got to be easy to figure out. Ryan’s eyes match mine. His skin shares the same tone and freckles, and the hair that’s not tightly faded on my brother’s head is as curly as mine is. Sure, his 6'3" frame overpowers me, but still.
“Are you related to Ryan Shay?” another guy questions in shock, mouth gaped.
“No,” Zanders pipes up once again, casually sipping on his water. “He’s related to her. Can you guys stop acting like a bunch of little fanboys and leave them the fuck alone?”
A few questioning glances get tossed to the back of the bar where he stands, which makes me worried that the secret of my brother being who he is won’t be the only one uncovered tonight.
The bar of thirty or so athletes resume chatting amongst themselves and trying their best to pretend like they’re not freaking out a little bit.
My gaze wanders back to Zanders’ as he softly smiles from across the room before he falls back into conversation with Maddison and Rio.
“Can I get you a drink?” Ryan looks down at my empty hands.
“I’m okay. Ryan, do you remember Indy?”
He turns towards my coworker. “Oh. Yeah. Hey.”
“Hey,” she repeats, equally as uninterested. Or embarrassed, I’m not quite sure.
Ryan pulls his buzzing phone out of his pocket. “Shit,” he mutters before declining the call and hiding his phone away once again.
“What?”
He shakes his head to tell me nothing, but I know something is up.
“Ryan.”
He exhales a sharp breath. “Some of the old college guys made the road trip down from North Carolina for the game tomorrow. I got them tickets. Brett is with them.”
“Ry, what the hell?”
“I know, I’m sorry. I told them Brett wasn’t invited, but apparently, nobody listened to me because he’s here. He’s in town.”
“No shit!” Rio’s arms swing over both Indy’s and my shoulders. “It’s a playoff miracle. You two are out with us?”
I shrug out of his grasp, leaving him to hang on my friend before I look back to Ryan with worry plastered on my face about the bomb he just dropped.
“You guys look so hot. I mean so...beautiful. Pretty? What do girls like to hear?”
A light laugh is shared between Indy and me.
“We like to hear that our tab is covered from you buying all our drinks. Let’s go, Rico Suave.” Indy pulls him to follow her to the bar.
Rio turns back my way. “Oh. My. God!” he silently mouths, green eyes wide and way too happy.
“Interesting,” Ryan notes.
“Rio? Oh, he’s harmless. He’s practically a golden retriever.”
“I meant your friend. Indiana? The one who was crying to Celine Dion at three AM.”
A large hand slyly grazes my lower back, fingertips digging into my hip, but I don’t stiffen from the touch.
“You following me?” Zanders bends down, lips ghosting my ear.
Turning to face me, his hazel eyes rake down my frame, taking in every inch before he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth.
I stare right back at him, wishing I could touch him. Kiss him. Hold his hand. Just about anything, really, but all I can do is look. So, I fucking look.