bri 🪽.𖥔 ݁ ˖.ᐟ

Swish.

The arena was still filling but it already carried that familiar All-Star Weekend buzz.

Another pass came from Sarah and Azzi almost let it sail right past her shoulder.

“Get it together, Fudd,” Sarah laughed as the ball skipped across the hardwood.

Azzi jogged two steps, scooped it up before it reached the baseline, and shot her teammate a look over her shoulder.

“I know, I know.”

Sarah snorted. “Apparently you don’t.”

Azzi shook her head, trying to focus as she returned to her spot beyond the arc. She let another shot go, watched it splash cleanly through the net, then immediately looked back toward the tunnel leading into the seating bowl.

Still nothing.

An arm slipped around her shoulders followed by Gabby’s voice asking, “Where’s Paige and Nika?”

“Oh,” Sarah sang dramatically. “That’s why your head’s in the clouds. You’re looking for your lover girl.”

Gabby laughed and Azzi shoved her off.

“You two are insufferable,” she complained. 

“And yet,” Sarah said, spinning another ball in her hands, “we’re not incorrect.”

“Whatever,” Azzi sighed, unable to stop the smile that tugged at the corner of her mouth. “They should be here by now.”

She knew she sounded a little whiny, because Gabby patted her shoulder placatingly. 

“You know Nika probably made Paige stop to buy her food before finding their seats,” she said with all the assurance of a woman who was one hundred percent right.

And all Azzi could do was laugh because, unfortunately, she knew Gabby was correct. 

Sarah sent a pass back to Azzi, nodding at her to lock in again and keep shooting.

“So,” she asked, “is the whole gang coming or just those two?”

“I got everybody tickets,” Azzi said. “So they better be here.”

“That’s what I’m talking about,” Gabby whistled. “Because we going outside after you win this thing.”

“I know that’s right,” Sarah agreed with a holler.

Azzi just smiled, shaking out her shoulders as she let another shot sail. She watched it slip through the net before turning back to her friends.

“I have to win it first.” 

Sarah actually scoffed. “Please be serious. Girl, you’re shooting forty-three percent from three this season. I don’t even know why they’re holding this competition.”

Statistically, Sarah wasn’t wrong, but the knot sitting low in Azzi’s stomach didn’t loosen.

The Storm were having one of the best seasons in franchise history and Azzi was having the best shooting season of her career. She was back in MVP conversations—something she hadn’t expected to happen again. Not since becoming a mom. A year ago, she’d simply been grateful to feel like herself again, because her first season after coming back from pregnancy had been…rough. There really wasn’t another word for it. Her body hadn’t felt like hers. Her legs had been heavy. Her shot had abandoned her just often enough to make her wonder if she’d ever truly get it back.

The second season was better, although still not up to her usual standards. Azzi had stopped overthinking and basketball had started to feel  instinctive again, instead of something she had to consciously fight her way through.

This season, though? Her third season back on the court? Everything had finally clicked into place.

Her body was fully recovered. Her confidence had returned. Sleep had become more consistent, though it was still largely ruled by a tiny dictator with magnificent curls and an uncanny ability to wake up at six o’clock on the one morning everyone wanted to sleep in. She’d found her rhythm again, both on and off the court, and it showed every time she stepped onto the hardwood.

Still, nothing quite compared to shooting underneath the All-Star lights in her own city. But reclaiming the three point contest crown—something she’d already won multiple times—somehow felt harder than winning it the first time.

Before her pregnancy, Azzi had owned this competition. She’d collected three-point titles the way some people collected souvenir magnets from their trips abroad.

And tonight was her chance to win it back.

She caught another pass from Sarah, settled her feet, and dropped a dime in from behind the arc.

“See?” Sarah said. “You’re literally fine. You got this, Fudd.”

Azzi gave her friends a tight smile and blew out a breath. “I appreciate the blind confidence.”

“It isn’t blind,” Gabby retorted. “We’ve had to rebound for you after every practice the last two weeks. It’s actually kind of annoying.”

Azzi opened her mouth to shoot back a witty comment when a high, excited voice echoed across the court.

“Mommy!”

A split second later two little arms collided with her knees.

Azzi grinned, immediately abandoning the basketball to bend down and scoop her daughter into her arms.

“There’s my girl,” she said, pressing a loud kiss into the top of a head full of impossibly thick, dark curls. “Hi, baby.”

The little girl, Azzi’s spitting image, giggled so hard she squealed. She wrapped both of her arms around Azzi’s neck and squeezed as if they hadn’t seen each other in weeks instead of that morning.

And just behind her, Paige came jogging onto the floor slightly out of breath.

“Nika,” Paige hissed, her cheeks pink from sprinting down half the arena stairs. “You can’t run away from Mama like that.”

Azzi smiled so hard her cheeks ached. It still amazed her sometimes how quickly seeing the two of them could settle her. Five seconds earlier she’d been thinking about shooting percentages, money balls, and reclaiming titles.

Now all she could think about was the tiny warm body clinging to her and the woman slowing to a stop in front of her, still carrying what appeared to be enough snacks to feed an entire elementary school classroom.

Paige had somehow managed to run down the stairs while holding a water bottle, an overflowing box of popcorn, two hot pretzels, an assortment of prepackaged candy, and a fluffy bag of pink cotton candy.

And Azzi was sure that the gray backpack slung over her shoulder contained even more food. Only Paige could make a diaper bag look sexy.

“Hi,” Paige said softly as she stepped in, slipping an arm around Azzi’s waist before kissing her. It was a quick kiss—the kind that had long since become second nature—but it still eased the last of the tension sitting between Azzi’s shoulder blades.

“Hi, baby,” Azzi said, giving her wife one more kiss before turning to pepper kisses across her daughter’s cheeks until the little girl dissolved into uncontrollable giggles.

“Mama!” Nika squeaked.

Azzi smiled, then looked over at Paige.

“What took you two so long?”

Paige glanced down at the grocery store of snacks clutched in her arms.

“Nika wanted to get a few snacks before the game.”

Gabby threw both hands in the air, both amused and also victorious.

“I knew it!”

Sarah wandered over and before Azzi could protest, plucked Nika from her arms.

“Aunt Sarah!” Nika squealed, immediately burying her face into Sarah’s neck.

“Oh, that’s nice,” Azzi deadpanned. “Abandon your mother.”

Nika didn’t even look up, but Azzi didn’t miss the way Sarah grinned smugly.

Paige chuckled before turning back to Azzi, using the rare moment of quiet between them.

“How’re you feeling, baby?”

Azzi exhaled. “Nervous,” she admitted sheepishly, hoping her wife didn’t notice her pink cheeks. 

Paige studied her for a second before reaching up to smooth an invisible wrinkle from the sleeve of her warmup shirt.

“You just have to remind them who you are.” Then she looked over at their daughter. “Right, Nik?”

From Sarah’s arms came an enthusiastic little nod, followed by, “Yesh!”

“Tell Mommy who she is,” Paige encouraged.

Nika cupped both hands around her mouth and yelled in her raspy toddler voice, “Azzi Fucking Fudd!” across the otherwise quiet stretch of hardwood.

Silence fell. Complete, devastating silence. 

Judging from the alarmed and guilty expression on her face, those were not the words Paige had expected their daughter to say. Her wife  looked like Azzi had just caught her posting another sleeveless renovation on TikTok—something expressly forbidden in their marriage— while Gabby folded cleanly in half. Out of the corner of her eye, Azzi could also see Sarah’s shoulders shaking as she tried to hold in a laugh.

Azzi blinked once, then very, very slowly turned her head toward her wife.

Paige had gone pale. Ghostly white to match the fresh longsleeve Jordan shirt she had on under her new All-Star Fudd jersey. 

“Before you say anything…” she stuttered.

“Oh, I am absolutely going to say something,” Azzi hissed. “What the hell are you teaching our daughter?” 

Paige winced and threw her hands up in surrender.

“So… you know how the team was on that three-game road trip last week?”

Azzi narrowed her eyes and nodded, allowing her wife to keep breathing for the time being. “Yes. I remember missing my wife and child but taking comfort in the fact that I knew said child was being well looked after…”

“Right,” Paige nodded. “Well, Nika and I missed you so much, baby, so I may or may not have let her stay up late to watch the games with us.”

“And…”

“And, um…she may or may not have picked up some new vocabulary?”

“From her aunts, right, P?” Gabby asked, clearly stepping in to bail out Azzi’s wife. 

Teammate loyalty apparently meant nothing.

“Definitely them,” Sarah agreed, trying to bail the blonde out. “I’ve, uh… I’ve definitely heard Nai yell that before. Stewie too.”

Azzi knew what they were doing by trying to pin this on Paige’s friends. She glanced between all three of them before looking back at her daughter, who appeared completely oblivious to what she had said. She could only imagine the cheers Nika got when she yelled that in front of her aunts during a game.

Truthfully, Azzi wasn’t upset: how could she be? Between the Storm and Paige’s friends, Nika spent most of the basketball season surrounded by professional athletes and passionate sports fans with extremely colorful vocabularies. It was more of a surprise that it had taken this long. 

Azzi was honestly just grateful their daughter hadn’t repeated some of her own questionable word choices over the years. And really, so long as she didn’t repeat them at daycare, what was the harm? 

Paige stepped in again, sliding her hands into the pockets of Azzi’s warmup hoodie to tug her closer. Azzi let herself be pulled, drawn in by the alluring look in her wife’s baby blue eyes.

“You’ve got this, baby,” Paige said quietly, just for her. “Show them who Azzi Fucking Fudd is.”

Azzi smiled, feeling Paige’s confidence seep into her bones. Over the years she’d been infinitely grateful for the way Paige had been able to inject that into her through the ups and downs.

“Thanks,” she whispered, sharing a look with her wife despite the chaos raging around them.

Paige squeezed her hand before reclaiming their daughter from Sarah.

“Come on, baby girl. Let’s go watch Mommy win this thing. Give her a kiss for good luck.”

She brought Nika over, and Azzi reveled in the sensation of her daughter’s tiny—and sticky—lips pressing a kiss to her cheek. She buried her face into Nika’s neck, memorizing her still sweet baby smell. It calmed her almost as much as Paige’s unique and wonderful scent did. Azzi was so fucking lucky.

“Bye, Mommy!” Nika waved enthusiastically as she and Paige made their way back to the stands.

“I’ll see you in a little bit,” Azzi promised, blowing a kiss as she watched Paige walk toward their seats, weaving through a few rows until they reached the large Fudd-Bueckers crew.

Azzi couldn’t help but smile to see every single one of Paige’s friends-–her friends now too—wearing some variation of her jersey. It didn’t surprise her, seeing as they’d all been showing up for each other for years. But the sight of her wife, daughter, parents, and their closest friends packed into the same row, all proudly wearing her name across their backs, made her feel some type of way.

Luckily, that feeling of calm was still there, settling her nerves an hour later when Sonia Citron—the last shooter before Azzi was up—made nearly every shot. Azzi was so hyped cheering for Sonia that she’d lost track of just how many buckets her friend had hit. But when the final shot splashed through the net the scoreboard flashed her total and the arena erupted. 

Sonia had only missed four shots. It was not only a new record, but one that was going to be damn near impossible to beat. 

Gabby let out a whistle beside Azzi as Marina yelled, “Damn, Citron!” 

Azzi’s heart pounded in her chest, knowing her odds for winning had just gotten infinitely smaller. The shooters before them had put up respectable scores but none that Azzi was particularly worried about. She’d known before tonight that Sonia would probably be her biggest competition. Watching her casually dismantle the other scores only confirmed it.

She peered over her shoulder, catching a glimpse of Paige standing a few rows back, Nika nestled in her arms clapping excitedly and waving. Paige gave her a big grin and a nod, and Azzi felt it cut through the tension hovering over her.  

“You got this, Fudd,” Sarah said beside her, giving Azzi’s shoulder a nudge. “Go show ‘em who my shooter is.” 

Azzi exhaled slowly as Sonia returned to the bench with a wide grin.

“Good luck,” she mumbled, dapping Azzi up.

“You know,” Azzi hummed. “I liked you a lot better about sixty seconds ago.”

Sonia just laughed and shoved her onto the court. “You’ll get over it.”

Azzi shook her head in amusement as she jogged onto the court and made her way toward the first rack, swinging her arms to get her blood pumping. As she stepped onto the corner spot the basket suddenly looked smaller.

It always did under pressure, but this felt worse. All the eyes on the arena—and on national television—were on her as everyone waited to see whether she could reclaim her title. 

She took a deep breath and held it in her lungs before exhaling. Glancing across the court she found Paige looking at her, wearing a confident smile like she already knew Azzi was about to bring home the crown.

And who was Azzi to let her wife down? 

The horn sounded and she plucked the first ball from the rack, relishing the feel of the worn, pebbled leather on her palms. She rose and released it… and instantly knew it was off. 

As expected, the ball hit the front rim and went skittering across the court.

Around her, the crowd groaned and inside, Azzi had a similar feeling. She could only afford a few misses. 

The second shot felt better coming off her finger tips, but as she turned to grab the third, she heard that one clank off the rim too. The audible gasp from the crowd informed her it didn't take a favorable bounce. 

Azzi’s stomach dropped. Two shots in and she was already close to losing. Part of her wanted to laugh. Of all the times to forget how to shoot a basketball, this was certainly not ideal.

She reached for the third ball, spinning it once in her palms. 

And then a tiny voice cut through the noise of the crowd. 

“Go Mommy!”

Her head instinctively turned and she saw Nika balanced on Paige’s lap with both of her hands cupped around her mouth.

“You got it Mommy!” 

On the shot clock, the timer was counting down. The noise in the arena was loud. The lights were bright. But Azzi caught Paige’s eye for half a second, and everything else fell away. Her wife simply smiled the same smile she’d worn before every big game for years.

You know who you are.

And Azzi did. She was a WNBA champion and multiple season MVP. An olympic gold medalist. And a fucking badass. 

Determined, Azzi looked back at the rim, grit her teeth and grabbed another ball. 

The third shot was nothing but net, as was every shot after. By the time she reached the money ball rack her rhythm was back. Ball after ball disappeared through the net and the crowd grew louder with every make.

The fourth station arrived and while she was still money, she knew the math without looking at the scoreboard. She could only afford one more miss.

Azzi rounded the corner toward the final rack. Her arms were on fire, her legs burning, but time was running out. She grabbed the first ball and released it only for it to miss the rim completely. The crowd groaned again as the scoreboard flashed what she already suspected.

There was no margin for error. She needed to hit every remaining shot.

The arena fell strangely quiet as she plucked the next ball off the rack and let it sail.

Swish. Swish. Swish. 

Everything came down to one basketball.

The title. The crown. Her pride. The seventy-five thousand dollars certainly wouldn’t hurt either. Especially since she’d been eyeing a new outdoor patio set. One made out of brazilian walnut that Paige told her would cost a zillion dollars to make.

Azzi grabbed the last ball from the rack as the clock ticked down from two seconds. Legs bent, she jumped up and let it fly. Time seemed to slow as the ball arced impossibly high before dropping cleanly through the center of the net.

The arena exploded with noise and Azzi threw both hands into the air before she even saw the scoreboard. She’d done it. She’d won again. 

Sarah was the first one to slam into her, followed immediately by Gabby with a bone crushing hug. 

Somewhere behind them Sonia was laughing and shaking her head. “I hate you,” she said affectionately as she came in for a hug.

“Better luck next time,” Azzi smirked, giving her a high five as Sonia congratulated her. 

“You earned it, Fudd.”

The words barely registered before another blur came flying across the hardwood.

Paige.

She didn’t slow down. She crashed into Azzi with enough force to make her stumble backward before wrapping both arms around her waist and lifting Azzi clean off the floor.

“I told you,” Paige shouted, spinning her around in the air, a beaming smile plastered on her flushed face. “That’s my girl!”

Azzi laughed and grabbed at Paige’s shoulders to steady herself as the arena swirled around her in a blur.

The motion was familiar, transporting her years backward to another celebration in Seattle, though this one was Paige’s victory. Back then they’d only just told the world they were together when Paige had kissed her in front of thousands of fans. And back then, Azzi had wondered what their future might look like.

She could never have imagined this. This life.

Not the quiet evenings spent together rocking on the front porch swing Paige built herself, or the sweet proposal when Paige got down on one knee on that porch and asked Azzi if they could keep choosing each other forever. 

Certainly not the pregnancy that had humbled them both. Morning sickness that lasted all day. Feeling at odds with her body for nearly ten unbearable months. Thirty-six exhausting hours of labor where Azzi nearly passed out from pushing and not eating and Paige nearly passed out when she saw the size of the epidural needle. 

And then holding their daughter, their tiny and perfect angel. They had nestled together in the hospital bed, both of them crying tears of joy as they counted her fingers and her toes and traced the curve of her eyebrows and the slope of her nose.

Azzi could never have envisioned Paige becoming so aggressively and obsessively committed to baby-proofing that she’d installed cabinet locks on cabinets that contained absolutely nothing. Azzi had found corner covers on literally anything that even resembled a corner, and doorknob covers on every door the day they came home from the hospital, like their daughter would be able to reach them anytime soon. 

There had been nights they’d laughed until they cried because Nika had somehow managed to take her diaper off and soaked her entire bed with pee. And that laughter had turned into groans when Nika grew and her antics evolved; like when flushed an entire roll of toilet paper or proudly announced at preschool that her mommy was the “best basketballer ever.”

There had been rehab sessions after injuries. Championships. Losses. Mundane grocery runs and sleepy Sunday mornings. There had been a million ordinary moments that had somehow become the extraordinary life they’d built together.

Sometimes—not often but occasionally—Azzi found herself remembering that morning years earlier, when her sink had been misbehaving and she’d felt defeated. And she’d called Big Buckets Home Repair. It scared her, in those moments of reflection. The idea that one twist of fate could have changed her life and she wouldn’t have had this. 

This incredible, amazing life. 

Paige finally set Azzi back on the floor, both hands still cupping her face.

“I told you,” she said, beaming so brightly it made Azzi’s chest cinch. “I told you. I told you, baby.”

Then she threw one fist into the air. “That’s my wife!” she hollered to anyone who looked like they might be listening. “Azzi Fucking Fudd!”

Azzi burst out laughing. “Now I know exactly where our daughter learned it.”

Paige only grinned and tugged Azzi back in before she could retreat. She planted a kiss on the crown of Azzi’s head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Mhm,” Azzi hummed. 

“If we’re being honest,” Gabby cut in, squeezing Azzi’s shoulder and bending close so she could be heard over the din of the crowd, “she probably hears worse from us in the locker room.”

It truly amazed Azzi how willing her friends were to come to Paige’s aid. Unless they were in the mood to roast her, though even that was usually a joint effort. 

But Gabby wasn’t wrong. 

Considering their daughter spent half the season traveling with the Storm during road trips, she’d become remarkably fluent in locker room vocabulary. It was something Azzi was choosing not to think too hard about until after All-Star Weekend.

“That’s… unfortunately true,” Azzi admitted, reluctantly letting herself be pulled from the warmth of her wife as fellow league players swarmed around her. 

It took a few minutes for the chaos to settle.

Her teammates finally stopped squeezing the life out of her, photographers grabbed a few last shots of her with the trophy, and arena staff began resetting the floor for the next event as Holly stepped over for an interview. 

She had just started answering a question when a familiar little voice rose above the noise around them.

“Mommy!”

She looked over in time to see Nika barreling toward her, tiny legs pumping as fast as they could carry her before she crashed into Azzi’s knees and wrapped both arms around them. 

A few feet behind her, Marta stepped onto the court wearing an apologetic expression, already reaching out to retrieve the escapee. But Azzi only laughed and waved her off. She handed the trophy to Paige, who was standing just out of frame, and bent down to scoop Nika into her arms, settling her against her hip as the little girl immediately buried her face in the curve of Azzi’s neck. Nika’s curls tickled her cheek, her small fingers tangled into the collar of Azzi’s jersey. 

After all; Nika was part of this victory too.

There’d been a time when winning had felt like the most important thing in the world, when every title and accolade was needed to build her legacy and prove who she was. When that was all that Azzi felt she really had in life. Now, standing beneath the bright arena lights with her daughter clinging to her, the victory felt meaningful in an entirely different way.

Nika was still too young to understand shooting percentages or championship legacies, and she would definitely remember the snacks she forced her Mama to buy more than the contest itself. But she had watched Azzi struggle, work, and eventually stand at center court holding a trophy. Azzi hoped their daughter would carry that with her. 

She finished the interview with Nika tucked against her side, one hand rubbing gentle circles over her back, and found that talking about the win came more easily with the reason it mattered most resting in her arms.

After wrapping up the interview Azzi thanked Holly, slipped her hand into Paige’s and let herself be tugged towards the second row where the rest of their friends were waiting. 

DiJonai appeared first, screeching “We going outside tonight!” 

Azzi laughed and nodded in agreement as her daughter wiggled out of her arms. “I think that’s the plan.”

“It better be,” Nai said with a grin, pulling Azzi into a tight hug and congratulating her. 

As the excited conversation continued around her, Azzi’s attention drifted across the court.

Nika had somehow escaped again. This time she was dribbling a ball alongside Phee’s kids and little Julien—who wasn’t so little anymore—all of them zigzagging across the hardwood with absolutely no concern for the crew trying to set up the next event. 

Azzi sighed and cupped her hands around her mouth. “Nika! Come here!”

“I’m right here!”

Azzi turned to find Nika Mühl standing three feet away with a perplexed expression. 

Azzi smirked. “No, I need Little Nika. Not Big Nika.” 

Nika groaned. “I hate being called Big Nika,” she complained.

“You have literally only yourself to blame,” Azzi said, unable to hide her grin. “You should’ve thought about that before you changed my kid’s name.”

“I didn’t!”

“Debatable.”

“It is literally not debatable,” Nika shot back with a laugh, though they all knew the truth. 

Technically, their daughter’s name wasn’t Nika. On paper, she was Maya Nika Fudd-Bueckers.

They’d chosen Maya because they loved it. Aside from it being a pretty name, Maya Moore  was a UCONN legend, Azzi’s mentor, and Paige’s favorite player growing up.

Nika had been tucked neatly into the middle spot.

Their friends loved to joke that it was because of the bet Paige lost years earlier with Nika Mühl. But that had never really been true.

Well… Not entirely.

Mostly, they’d chosen it because there simply wasn’t a world where Nika Mühl wasn’t woven into the fabric of their family. She’d been one of the first people to love Paige unconditionally, one of the first to embrace Azzi without hesitation, and over the years she’d somehow become indispensable to both of them. 

Nika was the person who showed up wherever they asked, and oftentimes when they didn’t. The person who dropped everything when one of them got hurt and who somehow managed to make every room louder and every hard day lighter. The person who came over and did laundry and dishes and then poured shots when their four month old angel baby wouldn’t sleep and Azzi and Paige were literal zombies.

There had never really been another choice for godmother.

Looking back, though, Azzi might have reconsidered if she’d known Nika would immediately launch a full-scale campaign to convince everyone to ignore the name Maya entirely and call their daughter by her middle name.

Now, almost everyone in their lives referred to the pair as Big Nika and Little Nika. Azzi had eventually come to accept it. Big Nika absolutely had not.

“It’s disrespectful,” Nika muttered.

“It’s accurate,” Paige retorted, giving her best friend’s shoulder a playful shove. 

“Whatever,” Nika grumbled. “You enjoy this too much. You’re just lucky she’s so cute.” 

As if hearing her cue, Little Nika abandoned the basketball entirely and toddled toward them.

“Hi, baby girl,” Paige said, crouching just in time for their daughter to launch herself into her arms.

Azzi held out both hands to pull her from Paige but Nika immediately buried her face deeper into Paige’s shoulder and shook her head.

Azzi gasped dramatically, though she was entirely unsurprised.

“So this is how we’re doing things now?”

She could see Paige biting the inside of her cheek, trying not to laugh as their daughter peeked over her shoulder just long enough to nod.

Azzi placed a hand over her heart.

“No. That’s fine,” she laughed. “I just carried you in my body and suffered for nine months. No big deal.”

Paige lost whatever internal battle she was fighting to maintain her composure and started laughing outright. “I think she’s just tired,” Paige tried, cooing, “Right, Lil Nik?” 

“Sure, we’ll go with that,” Azzi huffed, knowing Paige was the preferred parent. “I think she’s playing favorites as usual.”

“She would never,” Paige said, failing spectacularly to sound convincing.

Azzi narrowed her eyes and shook her head as Paige bounced their daughter on her hip. 

“I’m going to take her home,” Paige said, leaning over to plant a kiss on the corner of Azzi’s lips. “Your parents should be getting back to the house soon, and this one is about thirty minutes past bedtime already.”

As if on cue, Nika yawned. It was huge, a dramatic toddler yawn that mirrored the ones Paige did when she was playing around with their daughter.

Azzi smiled and gently rubbed her back. “Probably a good idea.”

“I’ll get her settled and then I’ll meet you guys out.”

“Okay, baby. Thanks.”

Paige stepped closer, slipping the free hand that wasn’t supporting their kid around Azzi’s waist. “I’m so so proud of you, Az.”

The words were soft and simple. They still filled Azzi with unbelievable warmth, inflating her like a breath of fresh air. 

“I love you,” Azzi said. 

“I love you too,” Paige whispered, leaning in for a kiss. 

Azzi happily obliged, then pulled back to kiss the top of Nika’s head.

“Bye, baby girl,” she said into her mess of curls. 

“Bye, Mommy,” the sleepy girl mumbled. 

She watched them say goodbye to the rest of the crew, Little Nika giving out high fives and hugs before Paige started to make her way up the stairs toward the tunnel, their sleepy daughter on one hip while the oversized bag of snacks bounced gently against the other.

For a long moment Azzi simply stood there with the trophy tucked under one arm, watching the two people she loved most disappear from sight.

Years ago, she’d thought happiness would feel like championships.

Trophies and confetti falling from the rafters.

Those things were great. But standing in the middle of an All-Star court, watching her wife carry their daughter home while promising to come back and celebrate later, Azzi realized she’d been chasing the wrong picture all along.

This one was so much better.

***** *** *****

Summit & Slate was louder than Paige remembered which seemed impossible seeing as she and Azzi usually only went with their loud as fuck crew. Then again, the lounge was currently packed with half of the WNBA and an assortment of friends and influencers.

Music pulsed through speakers and every booth was packed shoulder to shoulder with enough players and their entourages to make the space feel like one giant reunion. Every few feet Paige recognized another face, and after all the years she’d been around the WNBA through Azzi, she didn’t even think twice before exchanging hugs, handshakes, and high fives on her way through the crowd.

“Congrats, Paige!” Rhyne called.

“Tell Fudd she was unconscious tonight,” Juju said as they slapped hands.

Paige grinned, promising to pass the well wishes along.

She made her way through the thick crowd, shaking her head in amusement. It still caught her off guard sometimes, how naturally she’d become part of this world. A world she’d once dreamed of being in, albeit as a player not a WAG. She wouldn't trade it for anything, though. And, in her opinion, she was an excellent WAG.

Her gaze swept over the bustling room until she landed on a familiar semicircle of people squeezed around an oversized leather sectional tucked into the far corner.

The scene looked exactly like she’d expected. Stewie and Marta were arguing about something with Sarah animatedly chiming in. Gabby was doubled over with Nika in laughter, while DiJonai forced shots into everyone’s hands. 

And right in the middle of it all sat her girl. Her Azzi. 

Azzi looked absolutely stunning, mid-laugh when she glanced toward the entrance and their eyes met; the smile on Azzi’s face changed instantly. 

The wide, celebratory grin softened into a fond smile meant just for Paige. Azzi stood before Paige could even move toward her, crossing the room in a series of staggering steps likely caused by the collection of empty glasses on the table. 

Azzi jumped and Paige easily caught her, wrapping both arms tightly around Azzi’s waist. Her wife melted into her as Paige gave her a lingering kiss.

“There’s my champ,” she whispered against Azzi’s lips. 

Azzi rolled her eyes. “Don’t even start.”

“Hey, you reclaimed your crown, baby. You should be proud.”

“I am,” Azzi said, leaning to rest her head on Paige’s shoulder. “Plus the seventy-five grand doesn’t hurt.”

At that, Paige groaned. She knew exactly where this was going, recalling their highly animated discussion the previous week about new patio furniture and how much the lumber alone would cost. She’d ended the conversation by saying Azzi had to win the three-point contest for Paige to even consider it. 

“Bro, is that really where your head is at right now? Patio furniture?”

Azzi pulled back and shrugged, a mischievous smile springing from her dimple. “You promised.” 

“I promised to consider it if you won,” Paige countered.

“Well… start considering it, baby. I’ll send you my inspo pics and we can talk about dimensions tomorrow.” 

Azzi grinned and kissed her, and Paige let herself be pulled across the room to where their friends were waiting, content to follow Azzi anywhere. 

Arguing, though a form of foreplay these days, was pointless in this matter. If she resisted, Azzi would just threaten to order something online and Paige would rather die than have some half-assed machine manufactured furniture on the deck she spent a whole summer building.

“Ay there she is!” Gabby shouted, raising her beer as Paige and Azzi made their way over. “Drinks are on your wife tonight, Paige!” 

“Damn right!” DiJonai yelled, shoving two shot glasses in Paige’s hands that she quickly downed. “Seventy-five grand richer!”

Azzi groaned dramatically and burrowed herself in Paige’s shoulder. Though she’d accomplished nearly everything possible in her career, Paige knew her wife was humble as always. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Azzi hummed before pointing a finger around the group. “Just please don’t kill me on the bar tab.”

“No promises,” Sarah shrugged. “We’ve waited years for this opportunity.” 

“I literally pay for your drinks almost every night out,” Azzi scoffed.

She smacked Nika to nudge her down the sectional and then sank down onto it. Paige followed, wedging herself into the spot between Azzi and Stewie. 

Stewie draped an arm around Paige with comfortable ease. “Actually, Paige usually pays,” she corrected, leveling her wide-eyed gaze at Azzi.

“That’s because Paige always slips her card to the bartender when I’m not looking,” Azzi grumbled. 

It was a playful bone of contention in their relationship, though Azzi had come to accept it; Paige liked taking care of the people she loved. She always had, and if she was being honest, she knew that quality was one of the things that had endeared her to Azzi all those years ago. Besides, if she really wanted to split hairs, they shared a bank account anyway. 

“It would be disrespectful not to,” Paige retorted, laughing as Azzi shook her head in mock defeat. “You think I’m gonna let my girl or her friends pay for their drinks?” 

Her friends who were literal millionaires. 

Still, Azzi didn’t fight her. Her expression softened again. “How’s Nika?”

“Out cold.”

“Already?”

Paige nodded. “Your mom had her asleep before I even left the house.”

Azzi smiled softly, likely thinking about how close her parents were with their daughter—her mom especially. “That tracks.”

Paige knew how important it was to Azzi that her parents and brothers were a core part of the life they had built together. Despite the distance between everyone, the Fudd family still made multiple trips to Seattle each year, both during the basketball season and in the off-months. And Paige and Azzi made sure to take Nika out east to visit her grandparents as often as possible. Drew usually joined them on those trips once or twice a year, and it warmed Paige’s heart to know that she and her brother had been fully embraced by the entire Fudd family. The loneliness that had settled into their hearts when their dad passed away had transformed as they were welcomed into Azzi’s extended clan, and though Paige still missed her dad, she thought it made her extra appreciative of the love that she had found in her life.

“She also told me to tell you congratulations again, and that she and your dad can’t wait to bring Nika to the park tomorrow.”

“I knew she’d spoil her all weekend,” Azzi said with an eye roll. 

“That was never in question.”

From the other end of the couch, Marta leaned forward. “How’s Nika? Still waking up in the middle of the night?”

“I’m doing great,” Nika answered without missing a beat. “Actually, I could use another drink.”

Marta didn’t even look at her. “I was asking about Little Nika. Unless you also have trouble sleeping through the night like a toddler does.”

Nika glared at Marta. “I hate when you guys call me Big Nika.”

Azzi didn’t miss a beat. “You are literally the only person to blame for that.”

“Whatever,” she grumbled, knowing she had no one to blame but herself. “At least she’s my partner in crime.” 

That was certainly true. There was no telling what they’d come back to whenever Nika babysat. Though their one rule, keep her alive, was something Nika always adhered to. And Paige absolutely delighted in seeing the bond between her daughter and her best friend grow deeper and deeper with each passing month. 

Paige reached into her pocket to pull out her phone. 

“She’s doing a little better sleeping through the night,” she said to Marta. “In fact…speaking of the tiny criminal…” She unlocked it and turned the screen toward the group. “Look what Azzi’s mom sent me.”

The photo showed their daughter sprawled diagonally across the middle of her bed, one arm wrapped around an oversized stuffed penguin while the other still loosely held a half-read picture book.  She’d apparently lost the battle against sleep while reading.

Her dark curls were wild, one sock was missing, and she was drooling a little onto the pillow: she looked absolutely perfect. Though Paige might be biased, given that her daughter was Azzi’s spitting image. 

“Awwww,” Marta sang immediately.

“Oh my God,” Sarah said. “She’s getting so big.”

“I don’t like it,” Gabby declared. “Can she stop growing up? Julian too. Why do they have to get so old.”

“I tried asking already,” Paige admitted. “She very emphatically told me no.” 

Stewie took the phone and pulled it close to her face, smiling. “She’s basically your tiny clone, Azzi.”

Azzi leaned over and studied the picture for a moment. “She’s sassier though.”

Paige snorted. “That’s debatable, babe.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Azzi shot back, giving Paige’s thigh a firm squeeze. 

Knowing it was important to pick her battles if she wanted to get her head between Azzi’s legs later—and she very much did want to get her head between her wife’s thighs later—Paige clamped her mouth shut and slipped her phone back into her pocket. 

Her eyes drifted around the table finding nearly every glass was empty, and she clapped her hands once.

“Okay,” she said, drawing everyone’s attention. “Who needs another drink?”

A chorus of voices answered at once and Paige’s eyes widened as she tried to keep track of the orders being shouted over one another.

“I’ll have another shot of Tequila,” Nai said. 

“No, don’t listen to her,” Stewie demanded with a laugh, pointing at DiJonai. “She’s cut off from tequila.”

“I am not.”

“You absolutely are.”

The table kept bantering, finally deciding as a group that Nai was cut off from tequila because there was no way she’d make it to brunch the next day if she kept drinking at that rate. Even with the IV she had scheduled for the morning. 

Paige somehow managed to memorize the increasingly ridiculous list of drinks before looking back toward Azzi.

“You want another, champ?”

Azzi nodded, not even needing to give Paige her order.

Paige grinned, looking at the slight haze in Azzi’s eyes already. It was clear she was a few drinks behind her wife, and she was determined to catch up. She leaned down, cupping the side of Azzi’s face before pulling her in for a kiss.

It wasn’t quick, but it wasn’t showy. Just long enough that when she finally pulled back, Azzi’s cheeks were faintly pink.

“Be right back, beautiful”

Azzi caught her wrist before she could turn away, mumbling, “Hey.”

Paige looked back expectantly.

“I love you.”

The words were quiet enough that no one else heard them, though the fervent lip readers would easily pick them up if caught on the StudBud’s stream.

Paige smiled anyway.

“I love you too,” she said softly. “So proud of you.” 

“Thanks.” Azzi let go of her hand. “Now go get me a drink, woman.”

Paige laughed and gave her one last peck on the lips before weaving back into the crowd toward the bar, already mentally calculating just how catastrophic this tab was about to become. But hey, celebrating her wife reclaiming her three-point competition crown seemed like as good a reason as any to devastate her credit card.

By the time Paige reached the bar she had been stopped four more times. When she finally squeezed into an opening at the bar top, she waited a moment before catching the bartender’s eye, and then again while he finished pouring three espresso martinis for another group.

“What can I get you?” he asked, a bit breathless when he finally made his way over.

Paige rattled off the lengthy order from memory, clearly catching the bartender off guard.

“You remembered all that?”

Paige shrugged. “My wife and her friends are in the WNBA. This isn’t my first rodeo.”

He laughed and jotted it all down, checking a few times to make sure he had it right. Paige nodded when he finally did and slid her credit card across the sleek marble bar top. 

“You got a tab that’s under Fudd right now?”

The bartender hit a few buttons on his computer before nodding.

“Can you move it to this card?”

“You sure?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Paige grimaced, wondering how bad the damage already was for him to be making that face, but she supposed it didn’t really matter. She couldn’t remember the last time she had to check her bank account before making a purchase—and it wasn’t just due to the fact that she was married to a WNBA star. Big Buckets, both the business and the TikTok channel, had taken off in recent years, which afforded Paige more time at home with Nika and the ability to travel with Azzi more often. 

Gone were the days of picking up endless jobs to make ends meet, or working late hours to make sure a project was done so she could pick up another one. She was grateful for the financial security, and for the sense of equity that the success of the business brought to their marriage. Paige had no problem bringing in less money than her wife but she took pride in knowing that she was contributing, and that whenever Azzi decided she was done hooping professionally it wouldn’t impact their lifestyle. 

“Yeah, I’m sure,” she confirmed.

“Fair enough.” He shrugged and took her card. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, though!”

As he disappeared down the line, Paige leaned against the bar and glanced back toward their table. She could just make out Azzi’s laugh over the crowd, loud and unchecked, and made a note to get a round of water for the table too. 

She was thinking about how she hoped Nika would sleep through the night when she felt a light tap against her shoulder.

When she turned, she found herself looking at a woman around her age with a friendly, slightly flushed smile. She was cute, clearly a couple drinks in, and there was a spark of recognition in her expression that made Paige immediately start trying to place where they’d met.

Before Paige could figure it out, the woman spoke.

“Sorry… are you Paige? From Big Buckets Remodeling?”

Paige had to physically stop herself from groaning. Well…That narrowed it down. They hadn’t actually met. 

These days it was about a fifty-fifty shot between people recognizing her because was married to Azzi Fudd or because she’d accidentally gone viral again installing floating shelves in a cut off tank top.

“Yeah,” Paige said with an easy smile. “That’s me.”

“I knew it!” the woman said excitedly, clapping her hands. “My name is Callie by the way. My roommate sends me your TikToks all the time.”

“The remodeling ones, I hope.”

“Mostly,” Callie replied, though her tone suggested otherwise. As did the way her green eyes traveled down Paige’s torso. 

So, definitely the thirst trap edits, then. God, Paige’s life was so embarrassing.

“What are you doing here?” the woman asked. “WNBA doesn’t seem like it really overlaps with renovations.” 

“Here celebrating my wife,” Paige said evenly. 

Callie smiled, humming, “That’s exciting.”

Paige didn’t quite buy it. She wondered if this woman truly didn’t know who her wife was or if she was just pretending not to. It didn’t matter because regardless, she had no shot in hell. 

“I’ve actually been looking for a contractor,” Callie admitted, absentmindedly tucking a lock of auburn hair behind her ear. “I’m looking to renovate my master bedroom. It’s pretty outdated and could use some life breathed into it.”

Oh. 

Well that’s not subtle, Paige thought. She blinked, swallowing down the awkward lump in her throat. 

“I’d be happy to recommend some companies to you.”  

Callie stepped closer. “I was kind of hoping you could help me out…”

“We’re pretty backed up right now,” Paige replied politely while subtly angling her body toward the bar, hoping the universal language of ‘you’re standing too close’ came across.

It didn’t. 

Instead, Callie laughed and lightly touched her forearm. “You seem like you’re worth the wait.” 

Paige instinctively shifted her arm away and glanced toward the bartender. The individual drinks were finished. Unfortunately, he hadn’t even started on the round of lemon drop shots she’d ordered. 

Fantastic.

Normally Paige would have shut this down a lot faster. The woman was flirting even though Paige had casually mentioned her wife, which crossed a line as far as Paige was concerned. But this was Azzi’s world, not hers. She had no idea whether this woman worked for a team, the league, a sponsor, or knew someone important. She wasn’t about to make a scene that could somehow find its way back to Azzi.

Instead, Paige just smiled tightly and drummed her fingers on the bar top while looking around for literally anyone that she even remotely recognized. 

Callie grinned and opened her mouth to ask another question, lifting her hand toward Paige’s arm again. But before she could make contact, Paige felt a warm hand settle against the small of her back.

Knowing exactly who it was, Paige smiled without even turning around.

“I was wondering where you disappeared to,” Azzi said casually.

Her voice was perfectly pleasant. Her smile was perfectly pleasant. The way her fingers dug into Paige’s waist possessively? That was slightly less subtle.

Paige had known her wife long enough to recognize the signs.

Azzi wasn’t angry or really even upset, though she might be if she knew the full situation. She was just staking a tiny claim.

And Paige, much to her own embarrassment—and maybe because the shots she downed upon arriving were starting to take effect—found it ridiculously attractive. She tried not to think about what happened last time someone hit on her in a bar in front of Azzi. But she failed spectacularly at keeping the memory at bay, recalling the way Azzi’s hand dipped into her boxers on the way home.  They had hardly been able to wait to get home and pay the babysitter before Azzi had full on jumped on her; eating her out on the couch before Azzi riding Paige’s fingers while they were surrounded by children’s toys and boxes of sponsor swag. 

Steadying her racing heart, Paige reached down to intertwine her fingers with Azzi’s, and planted a kiss on her cheek. 

“There you are, baby,” Paige cooed, pulling away to stare at her wife with a fond smile. 

After a moment, a throat clearing pulled her back to reality. Paige turned back to the woman with an apologetic smile.

“Oh, sorry,” she said. “This is my wife, Azzi.”

The woman’s eyes widened. 

“Oh.” She looked between them. “I… I didn’t realize you were married to Azzi Fudd.”

Paige couldn’t help but flash an amused smile. 

It wasn’t a secret. Azzi appeared in approximately every third TikTok, half the Instagram posts, and almost every holiday photo Paige had ever uploaded. Regardless, it shouldn’t matter who she was married to; being married was enough to mean off limits. 

Beside her, Azzi slid her free hand into the hair at the base of Paige’s neck, gently scratching her fingers against her scalp. Paige had to fight not to visibly shiver, knowing her wife was well aware of the effect of that action.

Azzi leaned close enough that only Paige could hear her. “So this is why you’ve been gone so long?”

Her voice was low and teasing. Paige felt her pulse tick up a notch at the implication. 

“I was just being polite,” she whispered back, ignoring the other woman completely. Azzi was the only one who mattered. 

In acknowledgement of Paige’s focus, Azzi casually twisted her fingers and pulled the hair in her grasp. Paige’s eyes fluttered, heat blooming inside her. 

“I noticed,” Azzi said. “You’re always too nice to people.”

“Our drinks weren’t ready,” Paige explained, though an explanation wasn’t really needed. This was basically foreplay now. 

After a moment Azzi straightened, looking back at the woman with the same easy smile she’d been wearing all evening.

“Can we help you with something,” she asked pleasantly, “or are you all set?”

Callie immediately realized what was happening.

“Oh!” She laughed awkwardly, her nervousness evident. “I’m… so sorry.”

“No worries,” Paige said warmly. It was best if the woman went on her way before Azzi truly decided to get possessive. 

“I wasn’t trying to—”

“You were,” Azzi replied. “But it’s okay. I trust my wife.”  

And now Paige was fully wet. Fuck.

The woman smiled sheepishly. “Well… Uh… Congratulations on the win today”

Azzi’s expression didn’t change: her lips were still pulled into a tight smile, her teeth gritted together. 

“Thank you,” was the clipped reply she gave. 

After another flabbergasted and awkward apology, Callie disappeared back into the crowd. Paige waited until she was completely gone before looking sideways at her wife.

Azzi was staring after her.

“What?”

Narrowing her eyes, Azzi shook her head nonchalantly. “Nothing.” 

“Nothing?” Paige quipped.

“Nope.” 

Paige bumped her shoulder. “I love it when you get jealous. I almost forgot what it’s like when you go all posessive.” ”

A bigger lie had never been told. She was absolutely aware of her wife’s possessive streak. And while she would never intentionally do anything to provoke it, that didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy watching Azzi stake her claim when someone else was dumb enough to ignore the wedding ring and the repeated mentions of her better half.

“I’m not jealous.”

Paige had to bite back a laugh at Azzi’s attempt to play it cool. She tucked her lips into her mouth and nodded. “No?”

Azzi crossed her arms. “No.”

“You looked a little jealous, baby,” Paige teased, brushing her thumb against Azzi’s cheek. “It was hot.”

“Well you looked a little bit too married for someone to be hitting on you,” Azzi huffed, holding up Paige’s hand with the flashy wedding band for emphasis. As if Paige needed reminding. She never forgot who she belonged to.

Paige laughed. “There’s my wife.”

“I’ve been your wife all day,” Azzi retorted.

“Yes, but this is the version who gets all hot and possessive when someone flirts with me.”

Azzi rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t jealous.”

Paige hummed thoughtfully. “If you say so.”

Azzi stepped closer until they were nearly touching again.

“Whatever,” she drawled, running a hand along Paige’s arm. “Don’t pretend you don’t like it when I get jealous.”

“Oh, I love it,” Paige shot back with a smirk. 

A slow smile spread across Azzi’s face and she leaned down until her lips brushed Paige’s ear.

“Just so we’re clear…” Azzi’s voice dropped another octave. “I fully intend on you showing me exactly who you belong to when we get home tonight.”

A rush of warmth simultaneously climbed straight up Paige’s neck and dropped between her legs. If her boxers weren’t already wet from Azzi tugging on her hair possessively, they certainly were now. 

Her pulse jumped embarrassingly fast. After a few seconds of trying to form a coherent sentence, she was just opening her mouth to answer when the bartender called her over.

“Your timing is unbelievable,” she mumbled.

The bartender smiled and set two trays down, each one filled with an assortment of drinks and shots. 

Paige exhaled, still trying very hard not to think about what Azzi had whispered, and reached for the overloaded tray of drinks.

“Come on, trouble,” she said, sliding one tray to Azzi who happily took it with a coy smile. “Let’s go celebrate.”

When they reached the sectional where the rest of their crew was gathered, everyone started reaching for glasses before Paige even set the tray down.

“My heroes!” Gabby announced, plucking her vodka soda from the tray.

“I thought you got lost,” Sarah grumbled, grabbing her margarita.

“I almost did,” Paige replied, shooting her wife a playful grin.

Stewie took her old fashioned with a grateful nod while DiJonai immediately began handing out lemon drop shots. 

Within a minute, everyone had a fresh drink and a shot in hand.

Gabby stood up, lifting her glass toward Azzi. “To the queen of three pointers and the People’s Princess!” 

“To Azzi!” they echoed while clinking the glasses together in a messy chorus.

Azzi shook her head, laughing as she tapped her glass against everyone else’s.

“I love you guys,” she stated, the words sticking together slightly. “Thank you all for coming out to support me. It means a lot.” 

“We know,” Nika said. “That’s why you’re buying.”

Laughter rippled around the group as everyone threw back their shots and then started to settle back into the couch. Azzi naturally started to slide into the empty spot beside Paige, but Paige wasn’t having it. 

Before she could sit, she caught Azzi’s wrist. “Come here,” Paige said, reaching for the commanding tone that she knew got Azzi going.. 

“Paige!”

Instead of repeating herself, Paige gently tugged until Azzi lost her balance just enough to fall sideways into her lap.

A chorus of exaggerated “ooohs” immediately rose from around the table but Paige didn’t pay them any mind. She just slipped an arm around Azzi’s waist, smiling as she leaned close enough for only her wife to hear.

“You weren’t going anywhere tonight, baby.”

“Oh?” Azzi’s wide eyes flickered with amusement. “I thought I was supposed to be the possessive one.”

“Well, I learned from the best,” Paige shot back. “Besides, have you fucking looked in a mirror today?” 

A slow grin spread across Azzi’s face. 

Maybe it was the champagne. Maybe it was reclaiming her crown. Or maybe it was the way Paige was doing absolutely nothing to hide how much she wanted to devour her on the spot. 

Whatever it was, something in Azzi shifted. She resituated until she was straddling Paige’s lap, one hand resting lightly against Paige’s shoulder, the other holding her drink as she leaned close.

“You sure you didn’t want that girl from the bar to keep you company tonight?”

Paige laughed quietly. “Not even a little.”

She could read the playful challenge in Azzi’s burning gaze, the warm brown replaced by blown out pupils. 

“The only hands I want on me belong to my wife,” Paige said softly, her tone velvety smooth as she felt Azzi shift on her lap like she was searching for friction. “And I am very much looking forward to having them on me when we celebrate your win later.”

“My parents will be sleeping down the hall,” Azzi warned, because they had decided it would be better to spend the weekend in their own home than at a hotel. 

“Guess you’ll just have to be quiet, baby.”

Paige paused for a beat before adding with a teasing smile, “Any chance they gave your prize money in cash? Because I would love to make it rain on you. I’ve never fucked you in a pool of money before.” 

It was, perhaps, the only place Paige hadn’t fucked her wife. 

Azzi just laughed, shaking her head, but Paige’s own joke immediately betrayed her. Her mind wandered somewhere it absolutely shouldn’t have, conjuring images that sent another rush of warmth to her already throbbing cunt. She took a sip of her drink in a futile attempt to distract herself.

But the gauntlet had now been thrown, and Azzi was nothing if not competitive. She smiled in that affectionate and devious way that still managed to make Paige’s heart skip. 

“What I really want is for you to bend me over with the strap when we get home. Think you can do that?”

Paige’s heart seized in her chest, her brain short circuiting as the words—combined with Azzi shifting her hips once again—made their way in. Exhaling deeply, Paige let her head drop against the cushion behind her. 

“Fuck, Az,” she hissed, glad that Stewie and Nika were in a conversation of their own and not paying attention to the way she was completely unraveling right next to them. “You’re killing me, baby.”

Azzi grinned mischievously and rolled her hips in a way that might have been accidental, might have been teasing. Regardless, Paige's breath hitched. She tightened her grip on Azzi's waist, her fingers digging in, and Azzi made a soft sound in the back of her throat.

“Can’t we just go home right now, Az?” 

“And miss my celebratory party?” Azzi deadpanned, her expression shifting into one of mock shock.

Paige sighed, knowing she was falling into a trap. Still, she wasn’t willing to let Azzi off the hook that easily. Setting her drink on the table beside her, Paige let her hands wander to the back of Azzi’s thighs and pulled her in tighter. 

“Fine,” she hummed. “We can stay, but I’ma need a taste right now to hold me over.” 

Before Azzi could respond, Paige pulled Azzi down, hand sliding to cup the back of her neck, and claimed her mouth. Azzi tasted tart like lemon drops and her lips parted immediately, eager and open. Paige took advantage, slipping her tongue inside and deepening the kiss with a slow and deliberate thrust that made Azzi whimper and clutch at her shoulders.

She was dominating and she knew it, but she also knew Azzi loved her like that. Azzi's hands tangled in Paige's hair, pulling slightly, and the sting sent electricity down Paige's spine. She wanted more. She wanted to be home, wanted the strap-on in her dresser drawer, wanted Azzi above her, sinking down onto it while Paige watched her come undone.

At the thought she groaned into Azzi's mouth. She wished they were there now so she could pull Azzi down onto her dick, get so deep inside her that Azzi couldn't remember her own name. Her hands slid down to grip Azzi's ass through the fabric of her skirt, pulling her closer and grinding her down against Paige’s thigh. Azzi gasped, breaking the kiss for half a second before Paige chased her mouth to swallow the sound.

A minute passed, maybe two. Time always lost its meaning when Azzi was wrapped around her and Paige was content to be lost in the heat of Azzi's mouth and the filthy, desperate thoughts of what she was going to do to her wife later. 

“Get a room!”

The wolf whistle cut through the sexual haze like a knife and Paige froze, breaking the kiss, breathing hard, her forehead pressed against Azzi's. Azzi was gorgeous, her lips swollen and glistening, her chest heaving. They were both flushed and disheveled.

“Fuck,” Paige muttered, not letting go.

Azzi laughed, breathless, her fingers still twisted in Paige's hair. Her cheeks flushed pink as she looked over Paige’s shoulder. 

“Ok there’s Sonia,” she stated much louder than necessary when her eyes landed on the Storm coach across the room. “I promised we’d say hi.”

Before anyone—Paige included—could say another word, Azzi dragged her off the couch. Wiping the back of her hand across her mouth to rid it of Azzi’s lipstick before they talked to her literal boss, Paige tried to control her racing heart. But before  they reached her coach Azzi turned them and led Paige down a dark hallway.

It looked familiar, and Paige was about to warn Azzi that she really didn’t want to fuck her wife in a bathroom again, when Azzi surprised her once more by veering to the right. They disappeared down a different hallway before Azzi yanked open a door and shoved Paige inside. 

As they stepped into the room, slamming the door soundly behind them, Paige hazarded a glance around. She grinned when she heard the lock click. It was some type of office, probably the club manager’s if she had to guess based on the general vibe. One wall was lined with an assortment of filing cabinets and bookshelves. On the other sat a small leather couch with a glass coffee table in front of it.

And in the center of the room was a large wooden desk.

Paige’s eyes widened, a wicked grin splitting her lips as she guided Azzi toward it, turning her and pressing the front of her body against the dark oak. Azzi's breath caught as Paige pushed into her from behind, her palms traveling to Azzi’s shoulders where she found the thin straps of her crop top.

Heart surging in her chest, Paige eased one strap down with excruciating patience, her mouth tracing the same path as she peppered Azzi's shoulder with unhurried kisses. She repeated the motion with the second strap, following the trail with her tongue and reveling in the way Azzi’s breath was uneven.

She gripped Azzi's hips loving the way Azzi’s body always felt delicate in her hands. Delicate and so fucking strong. She could feel Azzi’s moan vibrate against her lips as she sucked at her neck. Azzi trembled when Paige dipped her hand lower, slipping beneath the waistband of her miniskirt. But she only teased, cupping Azzi through her underwear. 

“Want me to fuck you, don't you, baby?” she murmured against Azzi’s warm skin, pressing the pad of her finger down to apply more pressure.

Azzi's nod came instantly, pink color flooding her cheeks. Paige grazed her mouth along Azzi's spine once more before rolling her hips forward to seek friction herself, the hitch in Azzi's breath sending a rush of thrill though her. Azzi’s arousal was already evident, the dampness pooling between her legs leaving no room for argument.

Azzi lolled her head back onto Paige's shoulder. “Seems like you want to fuck me,” she shot back, though the moan that escaped her when Paige captured her earlobe between her teeth took all the fight out of the words.

“I dunno, Az,” Paige mumbled, her hand finally sliding beneath the waistband of Azzi’s panties. Her fingers found Azzi's slick heat effortlessly, and discovering just how wet her wife was for her drew a guttural sound from Paige's throat. “Seems like she’s waiting for me.”

It always drove Azzi insane when Paige talked about her pussy like that. 

“Only you,” Azzi confirmed, the last of her resolve disappearing when Paige’s other hand came up to knead her exposed breast.

Content to draw it out, Paige answered with a lingering kiss to her jawline and a firmer stroke against her clit. Azzi's hips jerked before Paige anchored them against the desk with her own.

“Please, P,” Azzi pleaded. “I need you.”

“I know,” Paige assured her. Her touch alternated between everything and nothing, collecting the wetness at Azzi's entrance before circling back up to trace dizzying patterns that left her writhing against the wooden desk. “I’ll take care of you, baby,” she hummed. “Don’t I always? Don’t worry.”

Clearly desperate for more, Azzi pressed her hips back into Paige, reaching behind her to tangle her fingers in Paige's hair and tug her mouth back to her throat.

Paige complied without hesitation, dragging her tongue from Azzi's collarbone up her neck as she smiled against the thundering pulse she found there. God, she loved to see Azzi flushed with wanting, loved the way her wife gave herself over to the sensations.

“All those people in that arena today,” Paige whispered huskily, her teeth grazing warm flesh as her hands and lips claimed every inch of Azzi's body. “They all want a piece of you. But I’m the only one who gets to see you like this,” she cooed, her voice thick with need. “I’m the one who gets to make you fall apart.”

“Fuck, Paige,” Azzi whined, melting as Paige's fingers circled her clit, her body shaking beneath the touch.

Paige pressed her mouth to Azzi's shoulder, biting down until a mark bloomed beneath her lips. She soothed it with her tongue, trying to calm her own racing heartbeat because watching Azzi unravel fed something primal inside her.

A moan ripped from Azzi’s throat as Paige tugged roughly at her nipple.

“Need my fingers inside, baby?” Paige prodded, dipping one inside just enough to tease her. “Ready for me to reward you for that win?”

Azzi nodded and Paige shook her head in mock disappointment. Azzi recognized the warning immediately when Paige withdrew her fingers.

“Words, Princess.”

Her grip tightened in Paige's hair as she pleaded, “Inside, P. Please, baby. I need to feel you—”

Her words cut off with a strangled cry when Paige pressed her fingers insistently against Azzi’s clit, rubbing harder than before.

"There we go," Paige soothed, her lips brushing Azzi’s sweat-slicked skin. "Lean forward for me, baby."

Azzi obeyed, allowing Paige to guide her over the desk, her palms flattening against the wood and her hips lifted. Paige moaned at the sight of Azzi bent over in front of her. She wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead before surging forward.

She hooked her fingers into Azzi's underwear and dragged them down slowly, groaning at the strand of arousal that stretched between the fabric and Azzi’s cunt before it snapped. When the pretty lace fell to the floor around Azzi's ankles Paige went for the skirt next, dropping it to the ground before Azzi awkwardly kicked her way out of it.

The sight in front of her was almost too much. Paige pressed her hips against Azzi’s ass, grinning when Azzi instinctively thrust backward to meet her.

Even after all these years married and raising a child together, they still couldn’t get enough of each other. Paige had the sense they would never be able to get enough of each other. She knew she would still want Azzi when she was ninety years old and couldn’t even walk anymore. 

“Fuck, Az,” Paige moaned. “I can’t wait to make you feel good, baby.”

Paige was gone now, drunk on her own desire, consumed by the need to make Azzi cum. Her hands gripped Azzi’s waist, her knees nudging Azzi’s legs farther apart as her fingers resumed rubbing slow circles over her clit from behind.

Her body burned from the inside out, tension coiling low in her gut as she caught Azzi’s eyes in the reflection of the window behind the desk. Azzi looked fucking perfect. Tousled hair, bitten lips, pupils blown wide, her throat glistening from Paige's attention.

Paige could have stared at her all day but Azzi clearly had other plans, because she reached back to pull her in again. Happy to oblige, Paige latched onto Azzi's neck once more as her fingers slid through her folds, one slipping inside without resistance.

The penetration wrenched matching moans from them—Azzi's a desperate cry of pleasure and Paige's an astonished groan at the way her wife clenched around her finger.

With her free hand Paige cupped Azzi's breast, her thumb sweeping across the sensitive nipple. Azzi gasped, her forehead dropping against the desk as one arm shot forward and sent papers scattering to the floor.

“Paige,” Azzi warned, lifting her head.

Paige pressed her back down with a hand between her shoulder blades, shushing her.

“Our bar tab alone tonight will be enough to remodel this entire office,” she hissed, too far gone to care about whatever destruction they caused.

She slid her hand up Azzi’s back until her fingers could weave into her wife’s thick hair. She tugged gently, guiding Azzi to lift her chin.

“Look at me,” she demanded, her voice raspy with need as Azzi met her gaze in the reflection of the window. “I wanna watch you come for me.”

“Fuck,” Azzi cursed when Paige added another finger, thrusting deeper. “You’re so fucking deep.”

The whimpers and strangled moans spilling from Azzi’s lips as Paige fucked her sent another rush of heat between Paige’s legs. Her boxers were absolutely soaked and she started grinding her hips against Azzi’s ass in search of her own release.

Heat licked at Paige’s skin, sweat coating every inch of her as she pounded into Azzi, scissoring her fingers and drawing filthy moans from her wife. Paige abandoned Azzi’s breasts to slip her hand around and press against her swollen clit, her hips still bucking against Azzi’s ass.

With a shattered gasp, Azzi choked out, “I’m close, P. So close.”

Paige nodded, her hips slamming harder, pushing Azzi against the desk. “I know, baby,” she rasped, her teeth sinking into Azzi’s shoulder as she hovered on the edge of her own release. “Give it to me, Az. My perfect girl. Come for me.”

Azzi shattered with a silent convulsion, words failing her completely, and Paige collapsed against her. Her mouth worked messily along Azzi’s neck while her fingers gradually eased her through the aftershocks, making sure to prolong Azzi’s pleasure as long as possible. Paige panted against Azzi’s ear, her breaths coming fast and ragged as she found her own release simply by grinding against her wife. Like a teenager. Whatever. Her wife was fucking hot. 

After a minute their racing hearts finally slowed. Azzi pushed herself off the desk and turned in Paige’s arms. With a grin, she leaned forward and captured Paige’s lips in a deep kiss. Paige slipped her palms beneath Azzi’s thighs, effortlessly hoisting her onto the desk before stepping between her legs. Still lost in the haze of post-orgasm bliss, Paige attacked her chest with open-mouthed kisses, sucking one nipple into her mouth and grinning when it drew a sharp gasp from Azzi.

Pressing a hand to Paige’s shoulder, Azzi created a little space between them.

“Someone is going to be very upset when they come into work Monday morning and realize someone got defiled on their desk,” Azzi panted, applying firm pressure to keep Paige at bay.

Paige chuckled.

“Defiled is a bit much,” she grinned. “It was really more of a celebration if you think about it.”

Azzi laughed and allowed Paige to help her off the desk, both of them still breathing as though they’d just run sprints.

“But if you’d like to continue defiling this office,” Paige said, her voice dropping low as she tugged Azzi forward by the wrists before spinning her around, “I’d love to eat you out on this couch.”

With a gentle push she guided Azzi down onto the leather couch.

“Paige,” Azzi warned, though her legs opened instinctively. Paige took it for the invitation it was.

“Yes, baby?” she teased, dropping to her knees and tugging at Azzi’s hips until she sat at the edge of the couch, her glistening cunt on full display.

Paige pressed soft kisses up Azzi’s thigh but stopped when her mouth hovered over Azzi’s clit.

“You were saying?”

Paige knew she looked like a cocky little shit, grinning smugly up at her wife who was spread out on the couch before her. She also didn’t care, because her wife was spread out on the couch before her. Her fingers, long and pale against brown skin, gripped Azzi’s thighs tightly as Paige simply smirked, one eyebrow raised while she waited for instructions.

With a groan, Azzi grabbed Paige by the head and shoved her between her legs.

“Just fucking eat me.”

Paige didn’t need to be told twice. With a low and approving hum she dove in, her tongue dragging flat and broad through Azzi’s slick folds, savoring her. Azzi’s hips bucked off the leather, a choked cry tearing from her throat as Paige wasted no time finding a rhythm with long, firm strokes that had Azzi’s thighs trembling around her ears within seconds.

“Fuck, Paige,” Azzi gasped, her fingers tightening in Paige’s hair and pulling just enough to sting. The pain felt so good. “Right there. Don’t stop, baby, please.”

Paige groaned against her, the vibration making Azzi writhe even more. She focused on the spot that always made her wife see stars, circling and flicking with the tip of her tongue before closing her lips around her and sucking hard.

Azzi’s back arched off the couch, one heel digging into Paige’s shoulder blade, but Paige held her Azzi’s hips firmly in place.

The office filled with the sounds of Paige’s mouth working her over, the creak of leather beneath Azzi’s shifting weight, and her gasping pleas echoing off the walls. Paige was relentless, driving her toward another orgasm with single-minded focus, her own arousal throbbing between her legs as she felt Azzi begin to unravel.

“Come on, Az,” Paige mumbled against her, the words muffled. “Give me another one, baby. Wanna feel you come apart on my tongue. Wanna taste it.”

Azzi’s grip in her hair became almost painful as her entire body went rigid.

“Paige. I’m gonna—”

“I know,” Paige urged, refusing to let up. “Let go for me.”

Azzi came with a scream that Paige could only hope the walls were thick enough to muffle, her body convulsing as she rode out her release.

When Azzi finally collapsed against the couch, her chest heaving, Paige pressed one last kiss to her inner thigh before looking up with dark, satisfied eyes.

“Definitely a celebration,” she repeated smugly, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “A top-notch celebration.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Azzi laughed weakly, one arm draped over her eyes. “But I love you.”

“Love you too,” Paige whispered, pressing a kiss to her lips. “Do you think we have time for round three before they start looking for us?”

“Absolutely not,” Azzi said firmly, pushing Paige back with a grin.

“Fine,” Paige groaned, rocking back on her heels as she reached for Azzi’s underwear. “Here,” she said softly, guiding the fabric back up Azzi’s legs with far more care than she’d shown taking it off.

Azzi leaned into her and rested her forehead against Paige’s.

“You’re gonna be the death of me.”

Paige shrugged. “You started it.”.

“How did I start it?” Azzi demanded her eyes widening in outrage. 

“Um, looking fine as shit while winning the three-point contest on national television?” Paige shot back, grinning as she found Azzi’s shirt and handed it over. “How was I supposed to keep my hands to myself?”

Azzi laughed and shook her head. “Whatever.”

She grabbed the shirt and pulled it over her head.

Once Azzi was dressed and both of them looked decent—mostly—Paige caught her around the waist and pulled her close again. Not because she wanted more but because she desperately wanted one more quiet moment before the chaos of the club swallowed them whole again. With what waited for them the following week, who knew when they would get another chance like this.

She cupped Azzi’s jaw, her thumbs tracing gentle circles along her cheekbones and kissed her slowly and deeply. There was no urgency now, only tenderness and gratitude. Azzi’s hands came up to rest over Paige’s heart and Paige was certain she could still feel it racing.

It was on the tip of her tongue to spill the words that were swirling around her brain; to say how excited she was for everything ahead of them and how happy she was with their life together. To thank Azzi for being her partner and praise her for being the fucking goddess she was.

“Hi,” Paige whispered instead, softly brushing a kiss against her lips. 

Because Azzi knew all of it. After all; they were sharing this life. Walking through it together. And Paige let her know it every opportunity she got.

“Hi yourself,” Azzi breathed back with a smile.

After pressing one last kiss to Azzi’s forehead, Paige threaded their fingers together and led her out of the office. They navigated through the crowd toward the VIP section where DiJonai spotted them first, leaning over the table to say something emphatic that sent Nika into a fit of full-body laughter.

“There they are!” Gabby’s voice cut through the noise, sharp and knowing. “The disappearing act returns!”

“Sonia came over here looking for you,” Sarah said with a raised eyebrow, her grin wicked. “Thought you were going to talk to her?” 

“Be honest,” Nai said with a laugh. “You two went and fucked in the bathroom again, didn’t you?”

Paige’s eyes widened in shock because that was one time, years ago, and they had been discreet. Or at least she thought they had. And also, technically they hadn’t just fucked in a bathroom. Though that detail didn’t seem like it mattered at the moment. 

“Yeah, what’s the plan, Bueckers,” Nika cajoled with a teasing grin, shoving her shoulder. “You trying for baby number two tonight?”

Azzi laughed and clearly without thinking opened her big beautiful mouth. “Oh, that ship’s already sailed,” she said.

Paige felt her entire body go still as the group's mouths simultaneously fell open. Around the table, six different faces slowly shifted from amused to confused.

“What does that mean?” Gabby hissed, her eyes narrowed in confusion. 

“No, but actually…” Sarah interjected. “What?” 

Marta looked between the two of them, always calm. “Paige?”

Big Nika sat forward so quickly she nearly spilled her drink. “Hold on. Hold on.” She pointed at Azzi. “Are you pregnant? Have you been drinking non-alcoholic shit all night?” 

She reached for Azzi’s abandoned glass, the ice long melted into the remnants of the drink.

“No,” Azzi answered immediately, shooing Nika’s hand away and lifting her drink as if to remind everyone that she was currently shitfaced. 

“Then what ship sailed?”

“What the fuck are you two grinning about?”

The questions came rapid-fire, overlapping so much Paige couldn't even tell who was saying what. Her pulse ticked up with excitement.

She looked at Azzi, trying to get a read on her wife. This hadn't been the plan. Then again, plans had a way of going astray whenever Azzi and shots were involved. Azzi gave her the slightest nod, and Paige felt the weight in her chest lift. She reached for her drink as Azzi shifted so she was no longer straddling her.

“So I guess we've actually got one more thing to celebrate tonight,” Paige said, lifting her glass.

The table went completely still and Paige found herself wishing she had a camera to capture the absolutely stunned expressions staring back at her. She looked at Azzi one last time for confirmation and found nothing but certainty and love in her wife's glassy eyes.

“We got the official call today,” Paige continued, her smile growing wider. “We've been going through the adoption process, and in about a week… we're flying to Portland to meet and bring home our son.”

For one fleeting second no one moved. The only sound in their quiet corner of the bar was a collective gasp.

Then the entire section exploded.

Gabby and Sarah screamed, jumping to their feet, followed immediately by Stewie. Nika lurched up next, throwing her arms around Paige so hard she nearly dropped her drink, while beside them Marta was already wiping at her eyes.

DiJonai shouted something completely unintelligible that ended with, “Let's fucking goooo!”

After hugging Paige so tight it left her gasping for air, Nika grabbed Azzi by both shoulders and hauled her off the couch into another crushing embrace.

“You guys are getting a little boy?” she confirmed, her eyes flicking between them and shimmering with unshed tears.

Azzi laughed and nodded, unable to fight the grin that spread across her face. “Yeah. We're getting a little boy. Fudd-Bueckers, party of four.”

Nai was already flagging down a waitress to order a bottle of champagne, arguing with absolutely no one that this was an even bigger celebration than Azzi reclaiming the three-point crown, while Paige launched into the details.

They'd only gotten the official confirmation that morning while Paige had been helping Nika color a good luck card for Azzi at the kitchen table. They'd already told the Fudd family and Drew,  and had planned to surprise everyone else with a picture in the group chat next week after they picked him up from the hospital.

But as Paige looked around the table she remembered that these women were family too.

They were the ones who'd brought meals after Little Nika was born. The ones who'd babysat on short notice whenever Paige and Azzi desperately needed a spontaneous night out. The ones who'd shown up after heartbreaking losses and championship celebrations alike, both on and off the court.

By the time Paige finished explaining the long and exhausting adoption process they'd spent over a year quietly navigating, everyone had finally settled down enough to breathe again.

Nika cleared her throat very seriously. “Niko,” she announced, “is an excellent name for a boy.”

Paige didn't hesitate, pointing a warning finger at her oldest friend. “Hey, Nika. Have you ever thought about just shutting the fuck up?”

The table erupted with laughter again.

“Yeah, Nika,” Gabby hollered. “Paige's barely out of the doghouse from the first time you stole one of her kids' names.”

And because literally no one at the table had any regard for Paige's wellbeing, Stewie leaned forward thoughtfully.

“I've always liked Stuart for a boy's name,” she said casually. “You could call him Stew for short.”

Paige buried her face in her hands and groaned. Her friends were absolutely trying to get her murdered.

Luckily, Azzi just laughed beside her, completely unfazed by their antics after all these years.

“Absolutely not,” Azzi shot back. “We're taking no suggestions. We already have a name picked out.”

“Oh, come on,” Sarah protested. “You have to tell us.”

“No.”

“Fine,” Sarah huffed. “I'll just get it out of Paige later. She can't keep a secret for shit when she's drunk.”

Beside her, Azzi watched Paige spiral with barely concealed amusement. Paige knew she was an easy target after a few drinks, but she also knew Sarah wasn't actually serious. Azzi reached over and hooked a finger through one of Paige's belt loops, gently pulling her closer.

“Want to bet on it?” Nika chimed in like the little shit-stirrer she was.

“I swear to God,” Azzi said, clearly trying very hard to sound stern as she looked at Paige with wide eyes, “if you make another bet with any of these idiots about naming our second child…” She exhaled as if she were gathering every ounce of patience she had left. “I will end you.”

Paige felt entirely too pleased with herself.

“I don't know, baby.” She shrugged as innocently as she could. “I think I could probably talk my way out of it.”

Azzi sighed, shaking her head. “The only thing your mouth is capable of doing to get you out of trouble doesn't involve talking.”

“Oh yeah?” Paige grinned, delighted and deeply amused.

Azzi dropped her head into her hands for a second before looking back up.

“Just shut the fuck up and kiss me,” she said, grabbing the front of Paige's shirt and tugging her closer, “

“Yes, ma'am,” Paige mumbled with a smile before closing the distance between them.

Around them, their friends groaned dramatically.