Page 94 of Ruthless Court
“Bookworm.”
He leans back and folds his arms.
“This is incredible.”
“What?”
“Haverhill’s descent.”
“I’m not descending.”
“Cortez to Krista to Bookworm.”
“There was no Cortez.”
“Tell that to your personality for the last year.”
“Can you find her or not?”
Eli picks up his phone.
“I need to document this moment.”
I reach for it.
He pulls it away.
“Our projected first-round point guard is hunting a girl in Uggs who smells like old books.”
“She doesn’t smell like old books.”
He lifts one eyebrow.
I remember rain, lip gloss, and the faint clean scent that caught me when I leaned over her desk.
“I don’t know what she smells like.”
“Sure.”
“This isn’t about that.”
“What is it about?”
“She knows basketball.”
“So do millions of people.”
“She knows my game.”
“Fans study you.”
“She isn’t a fan.”
“How can you tell?”
“She looked disgusted when she found out I played.”
Eli stares at me.
