The Girlfriend Game by Sierra Hill
Twenty-Nine
Zeke
“Welcome to my home. I’m so glad you could come, Dr. Rush. Even if it is with this guy.”
Marek leans in and places a chaste kiss on Kendall’s cheek and nudges me in the shoulder good-naturedly. Kendall smiles warmly back at him, while I acknowledge there’s a tinge of jealousy that rises from my chest to my throat at having to share her with the world.
“Please, call me Kendall. At least today.”
It’s rather unnerving to have my girl kissed by another man. Especially someone like Marek Talbert, who is big time with a huge net worth. Not that Kendall’s impressed with that kind of stuff, but it still gives me a stomachache.
“You have such a beautiful home, and look at that view,” Kendall says admiringly as Marek escorts us through his home and out the back door to the huge deck overlooking the lake and mountains in the background.
Marek laughs. “Thank you. Believe it or not, until recently, I was living in a fifth wheel for a year before I finally got a new contract negotiated.”
Kendall’s jaw—and mine—drop, gaping over his outrageous admission. That’s not something you’d expect to hear from a well-respected and highly paid GM of an NBA team.
“Get the fuck out of here,” I guffaw, my surprise evident. “I didn’t know that.”
Marek shrugs and we stop at the bar for drinks. Turning to Kendall, I ask her for her order. “What would you like, babe?”
Marek’s gaze bounces between Kendall and me. Marek knows something has been going on between us, but he doesn’t know the extent of it. Or how deep I’m in over Kendall.
Without missing a beat, she hooks an arm through mine at the crook of my elbow, slipping her hand in mine, smiling apologetically at Marek.
“Marek, we were planning on sharing this with you tonight, but preferably after a few drinks.” Kendall chuckles with an airy self-deprecating laugh. “This is the reason Zeke is working with a new therapist. We’ve been seeing each other for several months.”
I jump in to clarify. “For the record, I fired her on my own accord. And our relationship began outside of her practice, not while I was her patient.”
A wrinkle forms between his brows, but he lifts his hands in the air.
“Okaaay,” he says slowly, indicating his nonjudgmental concern. “You’re both consenting adults and it’s not my business. I’m just happy to see Zeke happy and doing well.” He grabs a lowball glass of bourbon as I grab a beer. Kendall takes a water bottle.
“Kendall, I’ve known you for a while now, and you are a trusted and dedicated professional. You’ve been a great asset for our organization. I see no problem with this arrangement.”
Marek raises his cocktail glass in the air and, with the beer in my glass and Kendall’s water bottle, we clink together in our acknowledgment of our newly-minted relationship status. My heart soars to finally have this out in the open.
And to solidify things further, I wrap an arm around Kendall’s waist, dip her back, and kiss her to the sounds of applause and wolf whistles from the mingling guests around us.
Kendall comes up sputtering, if not a little dazed. Smiling, she fans herself.
“Whoo,” she exclaims with a wink. “Now that’s a way to get a party started.”
We all laugh and our conversation soon turns to the upcoming season and some of the new rookies the team has just acquired.
“Zeke, I don’t want to push you into anything if you’re not ready,” Marek says in a hesitant tone, his voice low and serious. “But if you’re ready for it, I would love to put some of these young guys under your wing. They could really learn a lot about the game and, um, how to handle themselves under the influence of fame.”
Marek’s gaze turns toward the group of three young players huddled around a fire pit, all laughing and tossing bottle caps into the flames, watching the sparks soar to the sky like it’s the coolest thing they’ve ever seen.
Marek returns his gaze to me. “I truly believe you can draw from your experience from, well, your incident”—his hand flips out between us—“and talk about how you dealt with your own anxiety and the pressures of the game.”
I frown, staring down at the ground in front of me, an odd disappointment centering in the pit of my stomach.
Here’s the thing. While I appreciate Marek’s faith in me, I don’t want to be the team’s poster boy for mental health. I mean, sure, I started a foundation to help others, but this is different. This is up close and personal. All I want is to move forward and not look back at where I was and be remembered as “that guy that panicked in front of thousands.”
Marek reaches out and lays a hand on my shoulder.
As if that’s her cue to leave, Kendall interrupts the heaviness of the conversation, to allow us the freedom to speak candidly.
“Excuse me, gentleman, but I’m going to find the powder room. Marek, if you could just point me in the right direction?”
“Of course. Just head in through the open sliders, down the hall to the right, and it’s the first door on your right.”
She lightly touches my forearm and gives me a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll be right back.”
I watch her walk away, longing in my eyes at the soft sway of her hips, a delicious distraction from the weight of Marek’s question. But then I return to my attention to the man I not only call a friend and mentor, but also the GM, I realize his request is because he believes in me. Not because he wants to use me as an example of how not to handle yourself.
Marek, I’ve learned, is a man of integrity. He can’t be more than three years older than me, but has accomplished more than anyone else I know in the sport. After two years in the pros, he called it quits, went back to school for a degree in sports management, and was immediately snatched up to fill an assistant coach position for one of the worst teams in the league.
Through his incredible talent and know-how, it was the great comeback tale, all thanks to Marek’s genius and leadership. The fact that he’s now asking me for my help to mentor the new guys means something, and I don’t want to let him down. Which stirs up a pang of nerves in my gut.
Am I ready for something like that?
My entire focus this summer has been on improving my coping skills. Learning techniques to keep my anxiety at bay so it doesn’t come crashing in on me again. Kendall has been a huge part of my recovery, influencing my personal life in ways I never could have imagined. She’s made me happier than I’ve ever been.
“Let me think about it. Things are going really well right now.” I grin, shrugging a shoulder.
As if reading my mind, Marek shakes a finger at me, eyeing me suspiciously. “By the way, I knew you were covering something up about Kendall when we spoke. You’re a lying asshole,” he says genially.
I shrug. “I didn’t lie. It was the truth that I didn’t hook up with her while she was my therapist. If you want to blame someone, it’s Ansel’s fault for getting me on that dating app in the first place. That’s where we connected. We just didn’t know it until we eventually met up in person and our true identities were revealed.”
I take a sip of my beer, my eyes wandering out over the sparkling blue waters of Lake Washington. The view brings back memories of Kendall’s and my fishing trip months ago. Technically, it was our second date, but the first time we slept together.
And it just keeps getting better.
Being with Kendall feels like I’ve just made a clutch shot from the center court line. As everyone in the arena gasps in awe, watching it with eager anticipation as it flies through the air in a perfect arc and swishes in the net.
Marek tips his head to the side. “I didn’t picture you or Ansel as dating app guys. Isn’t that the perk of being a pro baller? The availability of women whenever you want a date?”
“Yeah, back when we were rookies like them.” I nod over to the rowdy rookies now playing a game of cornhole. “It was fun to fuck around and play the game, you know? But finding someone who wants you for something other than your money or fame, that’s a bit different. Maybe you might want to look into it. I mean when you’re ready to get out there again,” I add sheepishly.
No one knows the entire story of what happened between Marek and his ex-wife, Jasmine. They’d married when he was a rookie and then she left him several years ago. I guess that explains why he was living in the fifth wheel trailer for the past year. She took him to the cleaners and got half of his net worth.
He considers this for a moment and then shakes his head, his lips flattening tightly. “Nah, I’m good. Don’t need to go down that road ever again. But listen, getting back to the doofuses over there.” Marek gestures with the tilt of his head again to Trenton, Jaeger, and Henri. “It doesn’t have to be anything formal. I’d just appreciate you giving them a little guidance. You don’t have to become their best friend or anything. Just give them your support. Watch out for them.”
“Like a Jedi master would to his young Padawans?” I ask eagerly, referencing one of my all-time favorite movie franchises.
“Jesus Christ,” he mumbles, shaking his head mirthfully. “Forget I even asked.”