by Ally Adams
I saw The Russian and Buzz emerge from the waves a few minutes later and the coach took them aside for a dressing-down. They re-joined the training session five minutes later. The Russian still wouldn’t look at me. I didn’t know if he was angry with me, embarrassed or angry with himself.
At the end of the training session, we formed two lines like we did on game days, and all moved along shaking each other’s hands. It had been fun except for that incident, and it made training more interesting for the day. When I came to shake hands with The Russian, he held my hand a bit longer. The training group broke up.
“Come back to my place?” he asked.
“If you can drop me back to my car at our clubhouse later?”
“Sure,” he happily agreed.
Lucas came over. “You two want to come up for a drink?”
“Ah, thanks ...” I said, with a glance to The Russian.
“But no, thanks buddy. I’ve got to show Carla something ... very important. High-security stuff,” he joked.
Lucas grinned. “Yeah, I’m sure she needs to see that.”
*****
A few of the Saints and Suns stayed for a dip in the ocean and then after, The Russian and I walked back to his place. I think his streak of jealousy must come with a desperate need for reassurance because we’d barely gotten inside the door before The Russian set upon me. His strong hands pulled me close to him and he kissed me like a man needing oxygen. We didn’t make it to the bedroom, luckily he had that huge circle couch; I was on my back on it, with my swimmers pulled down past my knees and off before I could say “take me, Russian”.
The Russian made this guttural sort of sound as he moved back up my body, and then removed my swimsuit top. Sand was all over us – gritty lovemaking, we didn’t care, I just as greedily pulled off his shorts and swimmers. I began to run my tongue over his defined six pack, and I could tell it was appreciated. The Russian was primed and erect. But then he stopped me, and pulled me up close to him; his eyes were full of pain ... enough to stop primal needs and make him reach for me.
“What is it?” I asked and touched his face. He didn’t speak immediately, but I could see him carefully putting his words together, not wanting to be naked emotionally and physically.
He swallowed. “About earlier ...”
I stopped him, putting my finger on his lips.
“It’s okay. We got through that intact, didn’t we?” I asked. Please say we’re okay, please. I didn’t want him to give up on us before we had really started.
He nodded slightly, barely noticeably.
“I fucking hate it when it happens,” he said, and took a deep breath.
I nodded. “Buzz is playing you. You know I’m not even remotely interested in him, don’t you? You can trust me, Russian.”
He didn’t say anything, just watched me with his guard up.
“I trust that you can be the man I need, Russian, and I can be your woman, who won’t hurt you, but will protect this,” I said, placing my hand on his alpha heart.
He made a small sound in his throat, as if he was swallowing all those doubts, and then his mouth met mine and our love filled up all the empty places in us both. The Russian was craving me as much as I was craving him, and I didn’t tell him, but I was as terrified of losing him as he was of me – my heart would never take it, I’d never recover. Instead, I trusted in the moment and hoped it would last forever and that everything would be okay.
But something bad that I never expected was to come, testing us both.
Chapter 25
I knew this day would one day come, my last professional game. I felt emotional and terrified that it wouldn’t be one of my better games. I didn’t want to go out like that ... I was scared my knee would give away. I desperately wanted to play well for the team, and because The Russian was going to be in the audience with his friends.
“I’m so nervous, it’s insane,” I said, trying to shake myself out. I was in the kitchen at The Russian’s place on Saturday morning, having another glass of water before I left.
He came up beside me, took the glass from my hand and turned me around.
“I understand, but let’s look at this. You’ve played games that have been more important,” he reminded me.
I nodded, feeling the security of his arms as he stood in front of me, looking delicious in his low slung jeans and a white t-shirt, which really set off his tan and muscles. I was in my Suns’ uniform, ready to go.
“You’re right, we’ve had semi-finals and finals that have been more important.”
“So,” he continued, “what’s the worst that could happen?” He pressed his body against mine, and I was temporarily distracted by his erection pressing against me.
I thought about his words. “The worst that could happen is that I have a really dud game and it’s my last game ever,” I said, breathing out.
“You’ve got enough medals and tin on your shelf not to need this game to prove your worth,” The Russian reminded me. “Just go out there, look flashy and confident, give it your best, remember what you’ve loved about playing and take a bow at the end,” he said, and kissed me on the top of my head. “Besides, you look very hot in your uniform.”
I smiled and moved closer to hug him.
“You’re right, thank you. I’ll focus on the moment and the competition, rivalry, fun ...” I said.
“That’s my girl.”
I pulled away. “You’ll bring my ...”
“…bag. I’ll bring your bag and change of clothes,” he said, assuring me again.
“And you’ve got your tickets and ...”
“VIP passes, I’ve got them,” he assured me.
“And you know our sign?” I asked.
The Russian took my hand and kissed it, placing it on his heart ... very old fashioned and sexy.
“I know it,” he said, and smiled at me.
“What?” I asked.
“So this is what you’re like before a game. I get it,” he said. “Now go, see you there and don’t forget to enjoy it.” He saw me down to my car and gave me another kiss.
I drove off full of butterflies – excitement, nerves, and a tinge of sadness as I’d never get to play with my Suns’ teammates again. But at least I’d be at most matches reporting the game from the commentary box ... that was almost as good. I also knew that at the end of the season, some would be retiring or traded or be dropped ... nothing stayed the same for long in professional sport – the Suns I knew wouldn’t be next season’s Suns.
I wondered which ten friends the Russian would be bringing ... well, nine plus himself. He wouldn’t tell me. Maybe his family? Maybe some Saints, maybe some friends I hadn’t met yet? Then I pulled into the Suns’ home ground for the last time as a player, and into the players’ parking lot. I looked at the car that pulled up beside me, and Steffi was at the wheel. She waved enthusiastically and we walked in together.
“So good to play together again,” she said, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. We could easily reach each other.
We entered the very familiar dressing rooms and got into our usual routines. Our opposing team, the Seattle Sky, were already there and milling around their area as well.
Coach entered and we all quietened down for her update.
“Carla, if you can do a media interview on court fifteen minutes before the game, Latoya at half-time, and Lia and I will do post-match,” she said.
I nodded my understanding and Coach went on to give us a briefing and updates on player changes for the opposition. I was pumped, so were the other girls, and in the stadium you could hear the fans arriving. It was going to be big; the noise was already drifting into our changing rooms. When Coach finished, Aimee and I snuck out to have a quick look, and the place was pumping. The merchandise booth had a huge queue, membership sales for next year had a few people signing up and there were stacks of fans in our colors and those of the opposition, getting food and drinks, or photos with our mascots.
I heard some
cheers and a lot of noise from the entranceway – what was going on? Then I saw them ... The Russian had brought his big gun mates from the Saints and they were heading to the VIP area.
Aimee nudged me. “Friends in high places, huh?” she teased. “Now we know who The Russian invited to share his VIP box with.”
“Great, like I wasn’t nervous enough,” I said. “So much easier playing in front of fans and strangers!”
“While being broadcast around the nation,” Aimee reminded me.
“And there’s that,” I agreed, “but you forget about the cameras when you’re in the heat of the moment.”
“Mm,” she nodded. “I bet you’ll forget The Russian and his friends are watching the moment that whistle blows to start play.”
I watched as Lucas and Mia entered, along with Eddie and Tiffany, and moments later Nik and Sasha entered with Harry, the youngest Saints’ team member, and another guy whom I didn’t recognize, but he must have been a friend of Harry’s. I was sure Sasha was looking forward to going to a sports game and not having to work for a change.
The media cameras went from our court over to the Saints, and kids swarmed them for autographs. Security held the kids back from the VIP area, but Lucas and Nik went out to sign some shirts and caps for the kids, and a few other body parts for female fans. There was no sign of The Russian ... I hoped he was okay, I hoped he was still coming. Of course he’d be coming, why wouldn’t he? I was getting as bad as he was.
“There’s your boy,” Aimee said, and I looked in the direction she was looking.
There was my beautiful Russian – dressed for the VIP area in a black button down shirt, with gray pants and black shoes. His short back and sides haircut highlighted those high cheek bones, accentuating his strong chiseled jaw.
“Gorgeous,” Aimee muttered. “Who’s that with him?”
“Uh-huh,” I said. “That’s Tia, his little sister, she’s ten.”
So cute the two of them together, and he was so protective of her with his hand on her shoulder. They were in the merchandise line and she was picking out what Suns items she wanted, The Russian was listening patiently. He looked up and his eyes scoped the area, seeing Lucas over in the stands and giving him a wave. Then he looked towards our dressing room, and his eyes finally landed on Aimee and me hiding against the wall; his eyes locked on me. He smiled and I think I orgasmed.
I smiled back and both Aimee and I gave him this starstruck wave. The Russian leaned down and whispered something to Tia and she looked in our direction, trying to find us. When she saw me, I got a huge grin and exaggerated wave as she jumped on the spot with excitement. The Russian shook his head and I laughed. It had taken only a few minutes before the crowd realized who he was and he started getting mobbed in the line. He moved Tia in front of him and again glanced in my direction. I waved and, grabbing Aimee’s arm, we disappeared back into our Suns’ allocated rooms. As we walked down the hallway, Maria from marketing passed me and stopped, her eyes wide with excitement.
“Carla, you’re a legend,” she gushed.
“I haven’t played yet,” I said, confused.
She waved her phone at me. “Social media is going berserk! Our game is trending everywhere ... there are pictures of you girls arriving and the Saints arriving, and it’s all over everything. We’ve had a huge jump in membership sales ... like this is the place to be.”
“That’s great,” I brightened. “Good for the club.”
“Good for the club,” she repeated, rolling her eyes as though I had discovered gold and thought it was tin. “It’s huge. We’ve never sold this many packages before the start of a new season ... you’re making my job easy. Promise me when you’re commentating Suns games next year, you’ll bring your friends,” she said, cocking her head in the direction of the VIP area.
“Ah, I’ll do my best,” I said. Then I remembered I had to do the media interview and raced back out to the entrance of our run, with a few minutes to spare. The TV crew were there waiting. It was funny being interviewed by Catherine, who was one of my new commentary team buddies in my new job.
“A big day for you and it looks like you’ve brought the crowd with you,” Catherine said, holding the microphone over to me.
“A very exciting day,” I agreed, “and the Suns are wrapped to have this turnout, thanks to all our fans, followers and other local teams that are supporting us,” I said without blatantly mentioning the hunky row of Saints and their partners sitting opposite, or that The Russian had paid some obscene amount to purchase those seats.
“The Suns and Sky are no strangers on the basketball court,” Catherine continued. “Last time you played them, the Suns lost 53 to 55. Got some tricks up your sleeve today?”
I grinned at Catherine. “It was a tough match and the time before we beat them by an equally slim margin ... so I think that today the fans will see two well-matched teams, both trying desperately to win. And yes, always a few tricks up our sleeves.”
“Well, enjoy your last Suns’ game and congratulations on a stellar career. Ladies and gentlemen, Carla Brooker,” Catherine said to the camera and the audience.
I nodded my thanks, gave a wave to all, and jogged back into the run, but not without a quick glance to my heartbeat in the VIP area. Our eyes locked for those few moments and I recharged. I returned to the changing rooms for my final rah-rah, psyche up, pre-match session with my girls. Game on.
Chapter 26
Aimee was right – from the moment the whistle blew, I was completely in the game, and it was fast, furious and rough. I don’t know where the time went, but it flew. Our first two-quarters were great and I’ve no doubt the excitement of the huge home crowd and playing together again helped; I know I was super pumped. I took a few hits and a few dramatic falls and slides; in my peripheral vision I could see The Russian bracing, as if he wanted to come on court and save me. Luckily, Mia was sitting next to him, being the voice of reason I imagine. When I did get the occasional breather to look at him, his eyes shone with love and I just soaked it all in. Tia on the other side of him was decked out completely in Suns gear and was her own cheer squad. It looked like she had made friends with the kids next to her, and they were having a great time –that’s what it was all about.
As for my knee, I could feel it – I knew I would be lucky to see this game out, my days in the ‘Sun’ were definitely over. Aimee was having a blinder of a game, Steffi was out early with an injury, but I thought she was going to be okay to come back on later and the girls were just knitting together tightly. It was so good to be back, even if I only had one more shot at it.
At halftime the Seattle Sky were trailing us by 10 points, which was great, but we didn’t want to get complacent. Coach delivered one of her shortest halftime speeches – I don’t know what had gotten into her, maybe she was happy with how we were progressing! She did however hit the nail on the head with her choice of words:
“Look around at what this team is made of and made up of,” Coach said, and we all looked into each others’ faces. “Some of you won’t be here next season, some of you will finish your careers today, but this team is made of passion and loyalty.”
We all agreed and I tried not to get misty eyed. Coach continued. “This is our last game of the season as a complete team before we head into the final series, and yes, while we’ve already secured our place in the finals, think about this game ... how do you want to go out?” That was the perfect motivation ... we all knew how we wanted the game to end, how we wanted it recorded in history.
I heard later that security had had to rescue The Russian and Tia from crowds to get them back to their seat when Tia had wanted to go to the toilet. Luckily, there was no shortage of ladies prepared to take her in as The Russian waited some distance outside. Next time, Mia took Tia ... yep, three trips she made ... way too much to drink and I imagined Lana was going to give The Russian a serve for the sugar hit later.
We were back on for the final half and I felt the
overwhelming significance of it for me. I had been playing since I could walk, it was all I knew. I was so grateful for the commentary job ... I couldn’t imagine the grief I’d be feeling if I was going to leave the game for good. Sure, I might have gotten to report on the game with the newspaper or online, but now, I’d be traveling to the games again with the girls from all different teams. The whistle blew.
The Sky came back as determined as we were, and we lost some ground to them. At one stage they were leading. I felt the perspiration pouring off me and saw the battle-hardened faces of my teammates.
I remember reading the press clippings days after the match, and one in particular that said “Brooker took over like a woman giving her all. As the Suns clung to a 55-53 lead in the last quarter, Brooker turned up the heat, and with the support of her team, the Suns took out victory with a five-point lead. Carla Brooker said goodbye to her on-court basketball career in style.”
It didn’t seem like that at the time; I was just playing hard like everyone else – determined to win this final match. I don’t remember the noise of the crowd or being distracted by The Russian or the Saints right on court in their VIP seats. I just remember playing fluidly with my team for that one last time, and I loved it.
As the final siren sounded, we leaped for joy – we had done it, we had won. Our fans went crazy and so did we, hugging each other. We were in the finals for sure, but I wouldn’t be playing them. This was enough for me. We shook hands with the Sky and then we did a lap of the court, thanking our fans. As I got to the VIP seats—despite being super sweaty, and let’s face it, stinky—The Russian gave me a kiss and hug that had the professional photographers and everyone with a camera phone around us going berserk. Tia gave me a hug too as she wrinkled her nose.
The Saints boys pecked me on the cheek and shook hands with the other Suns’ girls as they passed by and I thanked Mia, Tiffany and Sasha for coming along.
“It was great,” Sasha said. “I think I’ll try and get a job as media manager for the Suns and drop the Saints.”
