Page 392 of Ruthless Court
“Eleven.”
“Twelve.”
“I remember eleven.”
“You were in all twelve. I remember because I suffered.”
Vale grins.
“I like her.”
“Get in line.”
Eli raises his hand.
“I’m already there.”
I glare at him.
He lowers it.
Temporarily.
Hannah stands.
“Show me your rebound.”
Vale actually obeys.
This is unreal.
One of the highest-profile transfers in college basketball moves into the middle of our living room because a five-foot-three archaeology major in flannel pajama pants told him to.
Noah tosses him the silent ball.
Vale catches it off an imaginary rebound.
“Again,” Hannah says.
He does.
She points at his feet.
“There.”
“What?”
“You land tall.”
“I’m six-four.”
“That isn’t what tall means.”
I bite my lip.
Vale looks offended.
She demonstrates.
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