ONE GRAYSON

O NE

G RAYSON

At six foot six, Grayson Caballero likened himself to a basketball god, as if the world needed another Michael Jordan, LeBron James, or Larry Bird.

The only problem was, he wasn't nearly as good as his favorite players, hadn't been allowed to play in college, and had no aspirations of trying out for the G League, or the "baby NBA," as all his friends called it. However, he was a powerhouse in the local recreation league that met every Sunday during the winter.

Before every season, other team managers would reach out to him, begging him to be on their team. Teams hated playing against him. He could post up, slam the ball down, and drain the three-point shot from anywhere just past the half-court line. Everyone wanted him on their team because they'd win if he played for them, and no one could really guard him. Although Grayson let them until he'd "turned it on," so to speak.

Grayson watched as the play developed. He flashed across the key, keeping his hands high for a pass. When it didn't come, he dropped down the block and posted up. Finally, someone passed to him. He palmed the leather basketball and held it out of reach from his opponent—who jumped, swatted, and tried to climb Grayson to get to it.

"Get off." Grayson gave the man behind him a little push and laughed at the umph sound he made.

"Foul!" the man from the other team yelled as he fell to the ground. Grayson used this to his advantage and spun to the hoop, jumped, and slammed it through the rim. Unfortunately for the guy on the ground, the ball landed in the spot no man ever wants to get hit.

He rolled over and groaned. Grayson laughed. He didn't have sympathy for his opponent, mostly because the men in the league liked to play dirty, and besides, Grayson had caught the man talking to Reid.

Reid Sullivan. The love of Grayson's life.

"You pinched me," Grayson pointed out as he bent to pick up the ball, keeping his eyes on Reid. He stood there with the ball on his hip, watching the woman he was deeply in love with as she smiled and chatted animatedly with some guy Grayson hadn't seen before.

"Ball!" someone yelled from behind Grayson. He flicked the ball off in the direction of the other team and then headed down the court to play defense. It didn't matter what team he was on; they always played a zone defense, with Grayson in the middle. This setup forced the other teams to shoot from outside, unless they had someone who could match up with Grayson's height.

When the horn sounded for halftime, Grayson looked up at the scoreboard. They were up by twenty. Not nearly the cushion he wanted. They had another twenty minutes to increase their lead.

Grayson made his way to the wooden bleachers, where Reid sat, watching him play. When he wasn't in the game, she'd read on her tablet. She didn't have a real interest in basketball. Every weekend he asked her to come with him, and every weekend she said yes.

She smiled as he approached. To him, she was "Sully," because in his mind that kept her in the friend zone, where he needed her to stay. It was safer for them this way, especially for her.

They'd met at work, during their first day of orientation at the Wold Collective, where he was a project manager specializing in custom boardroom tables, and she was in Human Resources. They'd hit it off, their palpable attraction to each other soon increasing tenfold with the amount of time they spent together. They became fast friends. Best friends, even. They told each other everything and could finish each other's sentences. They spent countless hours together, which had only worsened Grayson's attraction to her.

Then one night, everything changed.

Grayson didn't regret spending the night with her. He knew she was the one for him and bemoaned not being able to give her the life she wanted from him. He'd told her the best he could offer her was best friend status. A friendship with all the benefits, minus the romantic entanglements of broken hearts and feelings he wouldn't be able to show her.

It wasn't that he didn't like her. He did, more than he'd ever admit to her, or anyone, for that matter. It was that he couldn't.

Sully reached into her weekend bag and pulled out a bottle of water for him. While she reached for it, he tugged the ends of her auburn hair, winked, and sat down one row in front of her, stretched his legs, and leaned against the bench behind her.

"Thanks, Sully."

This was one of the times he hated being so tall. Had he sat next to her, he'd have to slouch to see her. Sitting like this, all he had to do was tilt his head, and he could see her clearly.

She looked down at him and smiled.

"Don't mention it."

He would. Repeatedly. It was the only way he could show or tell her how much he appreciated her.

Before twisting the cap off and chugging the water down, he caught her gaze for a moment longer than he should. Her eyes were a warm brown, two shades lighter than his. If he wasn't careful, he'd find himself staring into them. Staring could easily lead to leaning, which could lead to kissing.

Nope.

There wasn't anything he didn't like or even love about Sully. She was compassionate, patient, and fiercely loyal to her friends and family. Even after he'd tried to distance himself from her, she'd remained a steadfast presence in his life.

He absolutely despised any man she talked to, hence the dude he'd elbowed before the half, and he felt murderous rage whenever she went on a date. None of them were ever good enough for her, in his opinion, and his opinion was the only one that mattered. She took his word, valued his opinion, and shared her deepest, darkest secrets with him, despite him hating her stories about the men she dated. At her request, he'd done the same—most of it lies so she wouldn't think something was up. Sure, he'd gone on some dates, but those were setups by his best friend, Pearce Carey, who was also his coworker and the male counterpart to Reid in Grayson's life, and who also had no idea how he felt about her.

"What's his name?" Grayson nodded toward the other team's bench, but not specifically at the guy who'd taken one to the groin after Grayson had slammed the ball down.

"Dunno," Sully said as she handed Grayson a peeled orange.

"I saw you talking to him."

"No," she said with a sigh. "You saw him talking to me. I listened while he went on about how he has a boat and could see me on it."

"Was that his pickup line?"

Sully shrugged. "Seemed to be."

"Well, I'm glad you didn't fall for the cheese," he said.

"Why's that?" Her eyebrows rose in a challenge to him.

He had to think fast. He couldn't very well come clean that he was jealous. "He pinched me." To prove his point, Grayson lifted his shirt. Reid looked and shook her head.

"I don't see anything."

"Are you defending him?" Grayson acted hurt, but he knew she would never take anyone's side but his.

"Nope, just pointing out the obvious."

"Thanks, Captain Sul—"

"Don't say it." If Reid hated the nickname he'd given her, she never said anything. Except when he called her Captain Sully, after the famed airline pilot who'd landed a plane on the Hudson. She hated that reference.

Pearce placed his bag on the bleachers and pulled at his tie. "I'm sorry I'm late."

"Where have you been?" Reid asked.

"Lunch date with Emelia's father."

Grayson's and Reid's eyes widened. "Are you asking her to marry you?" Reid asked before Grayson could.

"Nah, and that's the problem. Her father asked me to lunch to discuss the future. We've been together for a year, we don't live together, and he wants to know what my plans are for his daughter."

"What did you say?" Grayson asked.

"Not much. There wasn't much to say. I stammered my way through some bullshit about how we're happy, in love, and taking things one day at a time."

"Do you think she asked her dad to say something?" Reid asked.

Pearce hung his head. "I don't know. I don't want to think she did, but come on. The invite was unexpected and more of a demand than a ‘Hey, let's meet for lunch' thing. And this was the first time he's ever reached out to me. Sure, we've golfed, but Emelia set that up, and we were together." He dropped his pants to the ground, apparently not caring who saw his boxers.

Grayson laughed as Reid rolled her eyes. He nudged her leg and winked at her, only for her to shake her head.

"Give me a slice," she said as she pointed to his orange. He handed her two, knowing she'd ask for more.

"Anyway," Pearce said as he sat down to tie his shoes. "Emelia has been calling and texting since I left the restaurant. I'm afraid to look or listen to what she has to say."

Grayson started humming the wedding march, which caused Pearce to scowl.

"I'm not ready," he said. "Not even thinking about moving in with her. How could she do this to me?" he groaned.

"Good luck," Reid said. Grayson choked, and she patted him on the back.

"Rude," Pearce replied to her.

The horn sounded, signaling that halftime was over. Grayson handed Reid the rest of his orange slices, finished his water, and then went back onto the court. He paused midway and placed his hand over his chest. The twinge was familiar but not something he'd felt for some time. He tried to place the memory; it had been well over ten years, if not longer.

He felt a hand on his shoulder as he closed his eyes, hoping to alleviate the pressure he felt. Grayson took a deep breath, and then another.

"Hey, man, we don't have time for the Pledge—" Pearce stopped and moved to shroud Grayson from onlookers. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good." Grayson walked away from Pearce without looking at him. He didn't want or need his pity or his questions. Pearce followed, but Grayson held up his hand. "I said I'm good."

He walked to the middle of the key, spread his arms wide to show everyone his impressive wingspan and to prove to anyone who watched him that he was, in fact, okay, and then rested his hands on his knees. He figured no one would question him if he stood like this. Most athletes do when they're tired. Except he wasn't tired. He was suddenly exhausted. "Let's go!" He clapped his hands loudly, hoping the others took notice.

Throughout the game, he spotted not only the guy from earlier chatting with Reid, but two others as well. The last one sat next to her and took all her attention away from Grayson, which he didn't like. When he should've been focused on the game, he was distracted by what he saw going on in the bleachers.

When the final horn sounded, Grayson looked up at the scoreboard and tried to smile. They had won, but the margin of victory wasn't what he'd come to expect. He changed his shoes, put his sweatpants on, and waited for Reid to join him.

"Who is that?" he asked for a second time today.

"Alaric."

"What kind of name is Alaric?" There was no hiding the sarcastic tone emanating from him.

"The kind his parents gave him. What's your issue?" Reid stopped walking.

Grayson turned to face her, waiting for the others to move on past them. "I don't like men talking to you. Hitting on you."

"Then do something about it," she dared him as she crossed her arms over her chest and smirked.

He shook his head slowly. He knew better than to go down this road with her.

"Look, Grayson ..." The door behind them opened, and Pearce walked out.

"You guys heading home or to the Green Turtle?"

"Turtle," Grayson said without making eye contact. "We'll meet you there."

Pearce looked at them and nodded. As soon as he exited, Grayson looked down at Reid. He wasn't sure what to say, and he wasn't sure he wanted her to finish her tirade.

"I'm going to start dating," she blurted out. "And I'm not going to listen to you complain about the men I go on these dates with. Someone out there is the right guy for me." Her eyes bore into his.

"The dating pool sucks."

"Yeah, well ..." She walked past him, paused, and turned around. "If you're not going to date me, then I'm going to go on dates. There are things I want out of life, and one of them is to fall in love, get married, and have a family. You don't want that, at least not with me, so I need to move on and close the door on these feelings I have for you."

Grayson couldn't find the words to tell her she wasn't going on any dates. He shook his head and started to speak, but his words caught in his throat just as his heart seized. He placed his hand over his heart and leaned against the clothing rack for some stability. Grayson gasped.

"Knock it off," Reid seethed. "You don't get to pretend like you're hurt," she told him. "Every day, I wake up wondering if this is going to be the day when you start dating someone else or when you finally tell me that you're in love with me, which I know you are, but you're too chicken to say the words to me."

Grayson's eyes watered as he gasped for air. "Help."

"Help, what? Help you with your broken heart? No, I won't. You can't do this to me."

He fell to his knees and somehow managed to mutter, "Nine one one."

Those three numbers caught Reid's attention. She was by his side and guided him to the floor instantly. "What's wrong?"

He could only pat his chest.

"HELP! SOMEONE HELP!"