Page 185 of Ruthless Court
Empty.
She isn’t coming.
The thought hits harder than it should.
I turn toward the huddle.
Movement near the aisle catches my eye.
A high bun appears above the row.
Then a familiar chunky sweater.
Black leggings.
Uggs.
Tortoiseshell glasses.
Hannah squeezes past several people with her bag pressed against her side. She drops into the seat, breathless, with a family-sized pack of Twizzlers tucked beneath one arm.
Relief rolls through me so fast I nearly laugh.
Her head lifts.
Our eyes meet across the court.
The arena blurs around her.
Hannah pushes her glasses higher with one finger.
Then she winks.
Bookworm winks at me.
My grin breaks free.
Not the one for cameras.
Not the smirk I use when someone challenges me.
A full, uncontrollable, shit-eating grin.
Noah follows my gaze.
“There she is.”
Vale looks too.
He studies Hannah for a second, then turns back to me with his brows raised.
“That’s the girl?”
I take my position near center court.
“Both of you get your heads in the game.”
Vale laughs as he moves toward the lane, ready to crash the opening possession.
