emma

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I do take suggestions/requests so hmu if you have any!

Pazzi Series:

A Walk To Remember (miniseries) ✓

A Couple Minutes (ongoing)

Pazzi one-shots:

Parenting Trial

Good For Me

The Wake

Snowed In

Good Girl

Honeymoon Antics

Your Voice

————————————— Paige Bueckers:

One-shots:

Summary: They broke up a long time ago. Azzi told herself not to go back, not after everything. But she can’t resist Paige Bueckers.

A/N: hi hi i’m sorry for the late chapter i had a crazy week but we’re kinda making some progress!

Warnings: angst

Main Masterlist

A Couple Minutes Masterlist

——————————————————

Chapter Eight

Dallas, TX

Azzi changed outfits four times.

The first one looked too casual.

The second looked like she was trying too hard.

The third made her feel like she was dressing for someone else entirely.

By the time she stood in front of her bedroom mirror in black jeans, a fitted cream top, and a light jacket, her bed was covered in rejected clothes and her nerves had settled somewhere high in her throat.

She stared at her reflection.

It was just a date.

Dinner.

A walk.

A girl she liked talking to.

Nothing complicated.

Nothing serious.

Nothing to feel guilty about.

Azzi looked toward the bedroom door as though Paige might somehow be standing on the other side of it.

She wasn’t.

Paige was two floors below.

Paige had ended things with Maya.

Paige had said her heart wasn’t in it.

Azzi had spent half the night pretending those things weren’t connected.

She had failed.

Her phone buzzed on the dresser.

Riley: Downstairs whenever you’re ready. No rush.

Azzi looked at the time.

6:58.

Of course Riley was early.

Azzi grabbed her purse, checked herself in the mirror one last time, then walked toward the door before she could change again.

The hallway was empty.

The elevator arrived quickly.

Azzi stepped inside and pressed the lobby button. As the doors closed, her eyes drifted automatically to sixteen.

She looked away.

Tonight was not about Paige.

The doors opened.

Riley stood near the front entrance in dark jeans and a green button-down with the sleeves rolled to her elbows. Her curls were down tonight, falling around her shoulders, and the nervous smile on her face made something warm unfold in Azzi’s chest.

Riley looked her over.

Then blinked.

“Okay,” she said.

Azzi slowed, her head tilted. “Okay what?”

“You look…” Riley paused, apparently searching for the right word. “Very distracting.”

Azzi laughed, the tension easing from her shoulders. “That sounds like a complaint.”

“It is absolutely not a complaint.” Riley held out a small bouquet.

Not roses.

Wildflowers.

Soft yellow and white blooms wrapped in brown paper.

Azzi stopped. “You brought me flowers?”

Riley’s confidence slipped for the first time. “Too much?”

“No. They’re beautiful.” She said quickly. “Thank you.

Riley released a breath. “Good. I almost left them in the car because I panicked.”

“You panic a lot for someone who acts very smooth.”

“It’s a carefully constructed image.”

Azzi smiled.

Riley opened the building door for her. “Ready?”

Azzi glanced once toward the elevators behind her.

Then she nodded.

“Ready.”

Two floors above the lobby, Paige stood in her kitchen holding the same glass of water she had poured ten minutes earlier.

She hadn’t taken a sip.

Her apartment was too quiet.

Paige had turned on the television, but the volume was low and she had no idea what was playing. She had opened her laptop, stared at film from training camp for less than five minutes, and closed it again.

She had cleaned the kitchen counter.

Twice.

Now she stood near the window, telling herself she was not waiting to see Azzi leave.

That would be pathetic.

Azzi was going on a date.

Paige knew that.

Azzi had every right.

Paige had no claim on her.

No say.

No reason to care what time she left, where she went, or when she came home.

Headlights moved along the street below.

Paige’s eyes tracked each car anyway.

Then she saw them.

Riley held the passenger door of a small dark car open while Azzi stood beside it with flowers in her hand.

Flowers.

Paige’s grip tightened around the glass. “Fuck.”

Azzi said something that made Riley laugh.

Then Riley leaned closer, brushing her fingers lightly against Azzi’s elbow as she guided her into the car.

Paige looked away.

Water spilled over the edge of the glass and onto her hand.

“Jesus Christ,” she muttered.

She set it down too hard on the counter.

For a few seconds, she stared at the puddle spreading across the stone.

Then she grabbed a towel and wiped it up, jaw clenched.

She had broken things off with Maya because leading her on had been wrong.

That didn’t mean Azzi would come back.

It didn’t mean Azzi should come back.

Paige had made that clear when she ended things.

Azzi was moving forward.

Paige had no right to resent her for it.

That didn’t stop the jealousy from spreading hot and ugly through her chest.

Paige picked up her phone.

Opened Azzi’s contact.

Closed it.

Opened her messages with Nika instead.

Paige: You busy?

The response came almost immediately.

Nika: Depends. Is this basketball busy or emotional crisis busy?

Paige stared at the message.

Paige: Neither. Azzi crisis.

Three dots appeared.

Nika: So emotional crisis.

Paige threw her phone onto the couch.

It buzzed again.

Then rang.

She let it ring twice before answering.

“What?”

Nika laughed. “Hello to you too.”

“I’m fine.”

“You called me.”

“I texted you.”

“Which is Paige language for ‘please call before I make a bad decision.’”

Paige sat on the edge of the couch. “I’m not going to make a bad decision.”

“Good. What decision aren’t you making?”

Paige rubbed her palm against her thigh.

“Azzi’s on her date.”

Nika went quiet for half a second.

Then, “Oh.”

Paige frowned. “Don’t say it like that, bruh.”

“Like what?”

“Like you feel bad for me.”

“I do feel bad for you.”

“I don’t need you to.”

“Well, that’s convenient, because I’m doing it for free.”

Paige leaned back and stared at the ceiling. “She had flowers.”

Nika’s voice softened. “She brought her flowers?”

Paige closed her eyes. “Apparently.”

“That’s nice.”

Paige sat up. “Whose side are you on?”

Nika laughed. “There are no sides. You broke up with Azzi.”

“I know.”

“You tried moving on.”

“I know.”

“You ended things with Maya because you’re still in love with Azzi.”

Paige’s face tightened. “I didn’t say that.”

Nika sighed. “Paige, I’m your best friend. You didn’t need to.”

Paige looked toward the window.

The car was long gone now.

“What if she really likes Riley?”

“Then she really likes her.”

Paige’s throat closed around the answer.

Nika sighed gently. “Paige, you don’t get to want Azzi frozen in place while you figure yourself out.”

“I don’t.”

“Then why do you sound like someone just told you she’s getting married?”

“Because it feels like every time she takes one step away from me, I realize how far I pushed her.”

The words came out before Paige could stop them.

Silence followed.

Paige pressed her lips together, eyes burning.

Nika’s voice was quieter when she spoke again. “Then maybe stop hiding.”

Paige laughed bitterly. “And say what? That I ended things because I loved her too much, but seeing her with someone else makes me want to throw up? That’ll sound really healthy.”

“You could start with the truth.”

“The truth doesn’t fix what I did.”

“No,” Nika said. “But lying about not caring guarantees nothing changes.”

Paige looked down at her hands.

“I want her to have a good time,” she whispered.

“I know.”

“I just don’t want her to have a better time with Riley than she ever had with me.”

Nika groaned. “That is deeply embarrassing.”

Paige covered her face with one hand. “I know.”

“But honest.”

“Unfortunately.”

Riley took Azzi to a small Italian restaurant tucked between a bookstore and a flower shop. It wasn’t fancy. It was warm.

Candles flickered in little glass holders on the tables. Strings of lights crossed the ceiling. The walls were covered in framed photos and handwritten notes from customers.

Riley had reserved a booth near the back.

Azzi noticed.

“You planned this,” she said as they sat down.

Riley picked up her menu. “I told you. Carefully constructed smooth image.”

Azzi smiled. “You also brought flowers.”

“I did.”

“And arrived early.”

“Only by eight minutes.”

“You checked?”

Riley looked embarrassed. “Maybe.”

Azzi laughed.

It felt easy.

That was what surprised her most.

Riley asked about training camp but didn’t turn it into an interview. She wanted to know which drill Azzi hated most and which teammate had the worst music taste. She told Azzi stories about customers who ordered impossible drinks and one man who had tried to pay with arcade tokens.

Azzi laughed until her cheeks hurt.

For almost an hour, she barely thought about Paige.

Then Riley asked, “So how are you liking the building?”

Azzi’s smile faded slightly.

“It’s nice.”

“That sounded convincing.”

Azzi looked down at her plate. “It is nice. It’s just complicated.”

Riley took a sip of water. “Because of Paige?”

Azzi looked up quickly.

Riley lifted one shoulder. “I have internet access.”

Azzi sighed.

“I’m sorry,” Riley said. “I wasn’t trying to bring her up.”

“No, it’s okay.”

“You don’t have to explain anything.”

Azzi traced the edge of her napkin with one finger.“We were together,” she said.

Riley nodded. “I figured.”

“It wasn’t public.”

“I figured that too.”

Azzi looked at her. “You’re good at figuring things out.”

“I make coffee for strangers. Most of the job is noticing what people don’t say.”

Azzi gave a small laugh.

Riley’s expression stayed kind. “Is it over?”

The question was gentle.

That made it harder to answer.

“Yes,” Azzi said. “It has been for a while.”

Riley waited.

Azzi looked away.

“Or it’s supposed to be.”

Riley nodded slowly.

There was no judgment in her face.

No disappointment either.

Just honesty.

“Do you still love her?” Riley asked.

Azzi’s throat tightened.

The answer arrived immediately.

She hated that.

“Yes.”

Riley looked down for a second.

Azzi’s chest sank. “I’m sorry. That definitely wasn’t the right thing to say on a date.”

“Don’t be.” Riley looked back up. “Feelings don’t disappear because they’re inconvenient.”

“You should probably leave now.”

Riley smiled faintly. “And miss dessert?”

Azzi blinked. “That’s it?”

“What do you want me to do? Throw wine in your face?”

“We don’t have wine.”

“I could use water, but it would lack drama.”

Azzi laughed despite herself.

Riley leaned back in the booth.

“I like you,” she said. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. But I’m not asking you to pretend your past doesn’t exist.”

Azzi’s smile faded into something softer. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Then be honest with me.”

Azzi nodded. “I can do that.”

“Good.” Riley picked up the dessert menu. “Now help me choose between tiramisu and cannoli like the emotionally available adult you aspire to become.”

Azzi laughed again.

They ordered both.

After dinner, Riley drove them to the park she had mentioned.

The famous hiding spot turned out to be exactly what she promised: a quiet bench beneath a huge oak tree, tucked far enough from the path that passing runners barely noticed it.

The city lights glowed beyond the branches.

They sat close but not touching.

For a while, neither of them spoke.

Azzi looked up through the leaves.

“This is nice.”

“I know.”

“You sound smug.”

“I am smug.”

Azzi turned toward her.

Riley was already looking at her.

The air changed.

Not dramatically, but enough.

Riley’s gaze dropped briefly to Azzi’s mouth, then returned to her eyes. Azzi’s heart sped up. She knew what was about to happen. She had imagined it earlier while getting dressed. She had told herself she was ready.

Now that the moment was here, Paige’s face flashed through her mind.

Paige in the elevator.

Paige pretending not to care.

Paige saying her heart wasn’t in it.

Riley noticed Azzi hesitate.

She leaned back slightly. “We don’t have to, I don’t want to rush you.”

Azzi released a breath. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.”

“I wanted to.”

Riley smiled gently. “Wanting to want something isn’t the same as being ready.”

Azzi looked down at her hands. “You’re making it really hard for me to find something wrong with you.”

“Give it time. I leave mugs in the sink.”

Azzi smiled.

Riley bumped her shoulder lightly against Azzi’s. “No pressure,” she said. “I mean it.”

Azzi leaned into the contact for a moment. “Thank you.”

“You still owe me a second date.”

Azzi looked at her.

Riley’s eyebrows lifted. “Unless tonight was terrible.”

“It wasn’t.”

“So?”

Azzi smiled. “I owe you a second date.”

Riley nodded, satisfied. “Good.”

It was nearly eleven when Riley pulled up outside Azzi’s building.

Paige knew because she had checked the time nine times in the last twenty minutes. She had tried watching a movie. Then a game. Then film. Then nothing. Now she sat in the dark near her window, the city glowing beyond the glass.

She was not waiting.

She was simply awake.

Near the window.

Looking down at the entrance.

Completely different.

A car pulled up.

Paige’s entire body went tense. Riley got out first and walked around to open Azzi’s door. Paige rolled her eyes before she could stop herself. “Of course she opens doors,” she muttered.

Azzi stepped out holding the flowers Riley had brought earlier.

They stood beside the car talking.

Paige leaned slightly closer to the window.

She immediately straightened again.

This was none of her business.

Below, Riley said something that made Azzi smile.

Then they hugged.

Paige stopped breathing.

It wasn’t a long hug.

But Riley’s arms went around Azzi’s waist, and Azzi rested one hand between Riley’s shoulder blades.

Paige looked away.

Her chest felt tight enough to bruise.

She waited for the car to pull away before moving from the window.

Then she walked into the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, and stared inside without seeing anything.

The apartment was silent.

A few minutes passed.

Then came the faint mechanical hum of the elevator somewhere beyond the walls.

Paige pictured it stopping at sixteen.

It wouldn’t.

Azzi would go straight to eighteen.

Of course she would.

Paige closed the refrigerator.

The elevator hummed again.

Then stopped.

Paige stood very still.

A soft knock came at her door.

Her heart slammed against her ribs.

She crossed the apartment too quickly, then forced herself to slow down before opening it.

Azzi stood in the hallway.

Still holding the flowers.

Paige’s eyes went to them before she could stop herself.

Then to Azzi’s face.

“Hey,” Azzi said.

Paige gripped the edge of the door. “Hey. You okay?”

Neither spoke.

Azzi shifted her weight and ignored the question. “I saw your light was on.”

Paige glanced toward the window behind her. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Azzi nodded.

Paige wanted to ask everything.

How was dinner?

Did Riley make you laugh?

Did she kiss you?

Do you like her?

Did you think about me at all?

Instead, she asked, “Did you have fun?”

Azzi looked at her carefully.

“Yeah.”

Paige forced a smile. “Good.”

Azzi glanced down the hallway. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Do what?”

“Pretend.”

Paige’s hand tightened around the door. “I’m not pretending, Azzi.”

“Paige.”

“I said I hoped you had fun.”

“You did.”

“And I meant it.”

Azzi’s expression softened with frustration. “Those aren’t the same thing.”

Paige looked away.

Azzi took one small step closer.

“Why are you awake?”

“I told you.”

“You could’ve slept.”

“I wasn’t tired.”

“You were exhausted after camp yesterday.”

Paige gave a humorless laugh. “Do you want me to admit I was waiting for you?”

Azzi went still.

The words hung there.

Paige wished she could pull them back.

Azzi’s voice dropped. “Were you?”

Paige stared at the floor between them.

She could lie.

She had been lying for weeks.

“I wanted to know you got home safe, that’s all.” she said.

Azzi looked at her for a long moment. “That’s not an answer.”

Paige finally raised her eyes. “Yes.”

Azzi’s breath caught.

Paige’s chest rose and fell too quickly now. “I waited,” she admitted. “I watched you leave. I saw the flowers. I saw you come back.”

Azzi’s eyebrows pulled together. “You watched us?”

“That sounds worse than it was.”

“It sounds pretty bad.”

“I know.”

Azzi looked down at the flowers in her hand.

Paige’s jealousy twisted again.

“Did she kiss you?” The question escaped before Paige could stop it.

Azzi’s head lifted.

Paige closed her eyes briefly.

“Forget I asked.”

“No.”

Paige looked at her.

Azzi’s voice was quiet. “She didn’t.”

Relief hit Paige so hard it made her feel ashamed.

She tried to hide it.

Azzi saw anyway.

“Why do you care?” Azzi asked.

Paige looked past her toward the elevator. “You know why.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Don’t play dumb.”

“I want to hear you say it.” Azzi said.

Paige’s eyes snapped back to hers.

Azzi stood just outside the doorway, flowers in one hand, waiting.

Paige could feel every excuse she had ever used crowding her throat. Bad timing. Too much pressure. Trying to protect you. Not fair to you.

All of it true.

None of it enough.

“Because I’m jealous,” Paige said.

Azzi’s lips parted.

Paige continued before fear could stop her. “I’m jealous that she gets to take you to dinner. I’m jealous she brought you flowers. I’m jealous that she gets to make you smile without all this history sitting between you.” Her voice cracked. “I’m jealous because I still love you, and I know I don’t have the right to ask you not to move on.”

Azzi stared at her.

The hallway seemed to disappear.

Paige’s eyes burned, but she refused to look away now.

“I ended things with Maya because it was wrong to keep pretending I could give her something when every part of me still—” Paige swallowed hard. “Still comes back to you.”

Azzi’s expression crumpled slightly.

“You broke up with me,” she whispered.

“I know.”

“You didn’t let me choose.”

“I know.”

“You made me feel like I was too much.”

Paige shook her head immediately. “You were never too much.”

“That’s how it felt.”

“I was the one who wasn’t enough.”

Azzi’s eyes filled.

Paige stepped forward, then stopped herself at the doorway. “I was scared,” she said. “You were right at the draft. I made it sound like I was protecting you because admitting I was scared felt worse.”

Azzi wiped beneath one eye. “What are you asking me for?”

Paige’s face tightened. “Nothing.”

Azzi laughed softly, painfully. “Of course.”

“No.” Paige shook her head. “I’m not asking you to end anything with Riley. I’m not asking you to forgive me because I finally told the truth. I just couldn’t keep standing in front of you acting like I didn’t care.”

Azzi looked down.

The flowers rustled softly in her hand.

“She’s nice,” Azzi said.

Paige swallowed. “I know.”

“She’s honest.”

“I know.”

“She didn’t pressure me tonight.”

Paige’s jaw tightened, but she nodded.

“She deserves someone who’s actually available,” Azzi continued.

Paige’s voice was barely audible. “Yeah.”

Azzi looked at her again. “So do I.”

Paige’s eyes filled completely. “I agree.”

For a moment, neither moved.

Then Azzi stepped forward.

Paige held her breath.

Azzi didn’t kiss her.

She didn’t hug her.

She simply reached out and placed the flowers in Paige’s hands.

Paige blinked down at them. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t know where my vase is.”

Paige looked at her.

Azzi’s mouth trembled slightly. “And I don’t want to look at them tonight.”

Paige’s chest hurt.

She accepted the flowers carefully. “Okay.”

Azzi turned toward the elevator.

“Azzi.”

She stopped.

Paige gripped the flowers too tightly, forcing herself to loosen her hands.

“I meant what I said.”

Azzi kept her back to her. “I know you did.”

“I’m sorry it took seeing you with someone else for me to stop hiding.”

Azzi looked over her shoulder. “So am I.”

The elevator doors opened.

Azzi stepped inside.

Paige stood in her doorway holding flowers another girl had bought for the woman she loved.

Before the doors closed, Azzi met her eyes. “I’m still going on a second date with her.”

Paige’s throat tightened.

She nodded. “You should.”

Azzi looked surprised.

Paige forced herself to continue. “You should figure out what you want without me making the decision for you again.”

The elevator doors began to slide shut.

Azzi’s face softened. “That might be the first right thing you’ve done in a while.”

Paige gave a sad smile.

“I’m trying.”

The doors closed.

Paige remained in the hallway for several seconds.

Then she went inside and placed Riley’s flowers in a glass pitcher because she didn’t own a vase.

Upstairs, Azzi leaned back against the elevator wall.

Her heart was racing.

Paige loved her.

Still.

The words should have fixed something.

Instead, they had opened everything again.

When Azzi reached her apartment, she stepped inside and locked the door behind her.

Her phone buzzed.

Riley: Home safe?

Azzi stared at the message.

Then she typed back.

Azzi: Yeah. Thank you for tonight. I had a really good time.

Riley replied quickly.

Riley: Me too. Second date still on?

Azzi looked toward the window.

Two floors below, Paige was awake.

Honest, finally.

Too late, maybe.

Or not.

Azzi didn’t know.

She looked back at Riley’s message.

Then typed:

Azzi: Still on.

She sent it.

Her chest hurt, but she didn’t regret it.

Paige had finally stopped deciding for her.

Now Azzi had to decide for herself.

Summary: They broke up a long time ago. Azzi told herself not to go back, not after everything. But she can’t resist Paige Bueckers.

a/n: i love writing angst ❤️

Warnings: angst

A Couple Minutes Masterlist

Main Masterlist

——————————————————

Chapter Seven

Dallas, TX

The last day of training camp started with Azzi awake before her alarm. She lay beneath the covers, staring at the faint morning light spreading across her bedroom ceiling while the city slowly came alive beyond the windows.

For once, she hadn’t woken up thinking about basketball.

She had woken up thinking about Riley.

Azzi reached for her phone on the nightstand and squinted at the screen.

There was already a message waiting.

Riley: Good luck on your last day of camp, superstar. Try not to make the rest of the team look too bad.

Azzi smiled into her pillow.

They had been texting for almost a week now.

Nothing serious. Nothing too deep.

Mostly jokes, coffee recommendations, and Riley sending pictures of terrible latte art she claimed was intentional. But it had become something Azzi looked forward to. Something uncomplicated.

Riley didn’t ask about Paige.

She didn’t treat Azzi like half of a famous duo or like a storyline waiting to happen. She simply talked to her.

Azzi liked that.

Maybe more than she was ready to admit.

She typed back.

Azzi: No promises.

The reply came before Azzi could set her phone down.

Riley: Coffee before camp?

Azzi glanced at the time.

She would have to leave earlier than usual, but she could make it work.

Her smile widened.

Azzi: I’ll be there in twenty.

Azzi moved through her morning routine with more energy than she had felt all week. She tied her hair back, pulled on her team-issued sweats, grabbed her bag, and stepped into the hallway.

The elevator arrived empty.

Azzi released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

No Paige.

That should not have disappointed her.

It did anyway.

She pressed the lobby button and stared at her reflection in the elevator doors.

She had spent the entire week pretending that practicing beside Paige felt normal.

It didn’t.

They had fallen back into their old rhythm on the court almost immediately. Paige knew where Azzi wanted the ball before Azzi called for it. Azzi knew when Paige was about to drive, when she would pull up, when she needed someone to cut backdoor.

Their chemistry made the coaches happy.

It made their teammates tease them.

It made Azzi’s heart ache.

But off the court, they kept their distance.

Polite greetings in the elevator.

Short conversations after practice.

Nothing personal.

Nothing dangerous.

Azzi was trying to move forward.

Riley felt like forward.

The coffee shop was nearly empty when Azzi walked inside. Soft music played overhead, and the smell of espresso and warm pastries wrapped around her immediately.

Riley stood behind the counter, writing something on a cup.

She looked up when the bell above the door chimed.

Her entire face brightened.

“There she is,” Riley said. “Dallas’ most exhausted rookie.”

Azzi walked toward the counter. “That’s a terrible nickname.”

“You keep coming back, so clearly my charm is working.”

“Or your coffee is good.”

Riley pressed a hand dramatically to her chest. “That hurts.”

Azzi laughed. “I’m kidding.”

“I know.” Riley leaned forward against the counter. “Your usual?”

Azzi nodded. “Please.”

Riley turned toward the espresso machine.

Azzi watched her move around behind the counter, comfortable and quick, humming quietly beneath her breath. There was something calming about being here.

At the practice facility, everything was pressure.

Make the roster.

Learn the system.

Prove you belonged.

Here, Azzi could just breathe.

Riley glanced over her shoulder. “Nervous about today?”

“A little.”

“Why? You’ve survived the whole week.”

“Today’s when they finalize everything.”

Riley’s expression softened. “You’re going to make the team.”

Azzi smiled faintly. “You sound very confident.”

“I’ve seen exactly zero minutes of training camp, so I’m basically an expert.”

Azzi laughed.

Riley finished the drink and placed it in front of her. A small basketball had been drawn beside Azzi’s name.

Azzi looked at it. “Is that supposed to be a basketball?”

Riley frowned at the cup. “Obviously.”

“It looks like an orange with stitches.”

“That is incredibly rude.”

Azzi took a sip, still smiling. “The coffee makes up for it.”

Riley rested her elbows on the counter.

“So,” she said.

Azzi looked up. “So?”

Riley suddenly seemed nervous.

It was subtle. A tiny shift in her shoulders. Her fingers twisting around the edge of the towel in her hand.

Azzi noticed anyway.

“I was thinking about that exclusive Dallas tour I promised you,” Riley said.

Azzi’s stomach fluttered. “Okay.”

“I’m off tomorrow night.”

Azzi waited.

Riley’s cheeks turned slightly pink.

“And I know you’re probably busy, and training camp just ended, and maybe you’ll want to sleep for twelve straight hours, but I thought we could get dinner.”

Azzi’s smile softened.

“Dinner?”

“Yeah.”

“As part of the tour?”

Riley looked at her carefully. “More like a date.”

There it was.

Simple.

Direct.

Azzi looked down at her coffee, trying to hide the smile pulling at her mouth.

A date.

She hadn’t been on one since Paige.

The thought of that should have made her panic.

Instead, she felt nervous in a good way.

She looked back up.

“I’d like that.”

Riley blinked. “Really?”

Azzi laughed. “You look surprised.”

“I had a backup speech prepared for rejection.”

“How dramatic was it?”

“I was going to claim I meant a date as in a calendar date.”

“That’s terrible.”

“It was all I had.”

Azzi shook her head, smiling.

“What time?” she asked.

Riley’s face brightened again. “Seven?”

“Seven works.”

“I know a place nearby. Nothing too fancy.”

“Good.”

“And then I can show you the park.”

“The exclusive hiding spot?”

“Exactly.”

Azzi nodded. “It’s a date, then.”

Riley smiled at her.

Something warm settled low in Azzi’s chest.

For the first time since the breakup, she felt like maybe she was allowed to be excited about someone new.

The bell above the door chimed behind her.

Azzi didn’t think anything of it until Riley looked past her shoulder.

“Morning,” Riley said.

Azzi turned.

Paige had just walked into the coffee shop.

She stopped the moment she saw Azzi standing at the counter.

Her eyes moved from Azzi to Riley.

Then to the smile still lingering on Azzi’s face.

Something flashed across Paige’s expression.

It disappeared almost immediately.

“Hey,” Paige said.

Her voice sounded normal.

Too normal.

Azzi tightened her grip around her cup. “Hey.”

Paige stepped forward, her hands tucked into the pockets of her hoodie. “I didn’t know you came here before practice.”

Riley glanced between them.

Azzi forced herself not to overthink it. “I’ve been a few times.”

Paige nodded.

Her eyes landed briefly on the basketball drawing on Azzi’s cup.

Then she looked at Riley.

“Can I get a black coffee, please?” Paige asked.

“Sure,” Riley said.

Azzi checked the time.

“I should go,” she said. “I don’t want to be late.”

Riley smiled. “I’ll text you the details for tomorrow.”

Paige’s shoulders stiffened.

Only slightly.

Azzi noticed.

She looked toward Paige, but Paige was studying the menu board with exaggerated interest.

“Okay,” Azzi said. “I’ll see you then.”

“Good luck today.”

“Thanks.”

Azzi started toward the door.

Paige followed a moment later after taking the coffee Riley handed her.

Outside, the morning air was already warm.

They walked toward the team car parked down the block.

For several seconds, Paige said nothing.

Azzi waited.

She knew Paige.

She knew when Paige was holding something in.

Paige took a sip of coffee and immediately grimaced.

Azzi glanced over. “You hate black coffee.”

Paige swallowed painfully. “It’s fine.”

“You put so much sugar in your coffee that it barely counts as coffee.”

“I wanted to try something new.”

Azzi gave her a look.

Paige stared straight ahead.

Azzi’s mouth twitched. “You heard us,” she said.

Paige nearly tripped over the curb.

“Heard what?”

Azzi stopped walking.

Paige took two more steps before realizing and turning around.

Azzi crossed her arms. “Riley and me.”

Paige’s face stayed carefully blank. “You were standing five feet away, obviously I heard you.”

“We’re going on a date.”

There.

Azzi said it directly.

Paige’s fingers tightened around her coffee cup.

But her expression remained calm.

“That’s nice.” She said.

Azzi studied her.

“Nice?”

“Yeah.” Paige shrugged. “She seems nice.”

It sounded rehearsed.

Azzi tilted her head. “Are you okay?”

Paige laughed softly, but there was nothing amused in it. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know.”

“We’re not together, Azzi, what happens with your personal relationships is none of my business.”

The words were gentle.

That somehow made them sting more.

Azzi looked away. “I know.”

Paige’s face softened immediately. “I didn’t mean—”

“It’s fine.”

“No, I just meant you don’t have to worry about how I feel.”

Azzi looked back at her.

That was exactly what Paige wanted her to do.

Stop worrying.

Pretend she didn’t see the jealousy in the tightness of Paige’s jaw. Pretend she didn’t notice how Paige had walked into the coffee shop happy and walked out barely holding her cup together.

Azzi nodded slowly.

“Okay.”

Paige smiled.

It didn’t reach her eyes. “For what it’s worth, I hope you have fun,” she said.

Azzi’s chest tightened.

“Thanks.”

They continued walking.

Paige stayed half a step ahead the rest of the way.

The final day of training camp was brutal.

The coaches pushed them harder than they had all week. Full-court drills. Scrimmages. Defensive rotations until everyone’s legs felt like they were made of concrete.

Azzi loved it.

The exhaustion gave her something else to focus on.

During the scrimmage, Paige played like she was trying to outrun something.

She pushed the pace relentlessly. Drove through contact. Hit difficult passes. Took a charge that sent her sliding across the floor.

She was sharp.

Aggressive.

Quiet.

Azzi noticed Paige didn’t joke with her between drills.

She didn’t offer encouragement.

She didn’t look at her unless she had to.

It should have made things easier.

Instead, Azzi found herself watching Paige more.

Late in the final scrimmage, Azzi came off a screen and Paige found her with a pass from nearly half court.

Azzi caught it in rhythm and hit the shot.

The whistle blew.

Coach shouted his approval.

Azzi turned toward Paige instinctively.

Paige gave her a quick nod.

Nothing else.

No smile.

No soft look.

Just professional.

Exactly what Azzi had asked for.

She hated it.

When practice ended, the team gathered at center court.

Coach gave a short speech about effort and identity. Then he announced the final roster.

Azzi’s name was called.

She released a breath and smiled as her teammates clapped around her.

She had known she was probably safe.

Still, hearing it made everything real.

She had made it.

The WNBA.

Dallas.

Her dream.

Alysha hugged her from the side. “Told you, rookie.”

Azzi laughed.

Across the circle, Paige was clapping.

Their eyes met.

This time, Paige smiled.

It was small, but genuine.

Azzi felt the familiar warmth of it immediately.

“Congratulations,” Paige mouthed.

Azzi nodded.

“Thank you.”

For one brief second, the coffee shop and Riley and Maya disappeared.

It was just them.

Then Paige looked away.

After meetings and media obligations, Azzi returned to the locker room. Her body was exhausted, but her mind buzzed with everything that had happened.

She checked her phone.

Riley had already texted.

Riley: Tomorrow at 7. I’ll pick you up unless famous basketball players require secret transportation.

Azzi smiled.

Azzi: I think I can risk being seen in your car.

A second later:

Riley: Bold. I drive a very intimidating Honda Civic.

Azzi laughed under her breath.

“Must be funny.”

Azzi looked up.

Paige stood in front of her locker, pulling on a clean hoodie.

Her tone was casual.

Her eyes were not.

“Riley,” Azzi said.

Paige nodded like the name meant nothing.

“Right.”

Azzi watched her carefully. “You really don’t care?”

Paige paused.

For half a second, Azzi thought she might be honest.

Then Paige looked back down at her bag. “Why would I?”

Azzi’s chest sank.

She didn’t know what answer she had wanted.

Not that one.

“Forget it,” Azzi said.

Paige’s head lifted. “Azzi—”

“I said forget it.”

Azzi grabbed her phone and headed toward the showers before Paige could say anything else.

Paige stood alone by her locker long after Azzi disappeared.

Her hands shook as she zipped her bag.

She had spent the entire day telling herself she was fine.

Azzi deserved to move on.

Azzi deserved someone who didn’t hurt her.

Azzi deserved a girl who made her smile over coffee instead of cry in hallways.

Paige knew all of that.

It didn’t stop the jealousy from clawing at her chest.

It didn’t stop her from imagining Azzi across a dinner table from Riley.

Laughing.

Flirting.

Letting someone else learn all the things Paige still remembered.

Paige pressed her palms against the edge of the locker.

She had no right to feel this way.

No right at all.

That didn’t make it hurt less.

Her phone buzzed in her bag.

A message from Maya.

Maya: Dinner tonight? We could celebrate the end of camp.

Paige stared at the screen.

Maya had done nothing wrong.

That was the problem.

Maya was kind. Patient. Easy to talk to. She didn’t demand more from Paige than Paige could give.

But every time Maya smiled at her, Paige compared it to Azzi.

Every time Maya touched her arm, Paige remembered Azzi’s hand there.

Every conversation felt like Paige trying to convince herself she could build something new while her heart still lived two floors above her.

That wasn’t fair.

Not to Maya.

Not to anyone.

Paige typed a response.

Deleted it.

Typed again.

Deleted that too.

Finally, she called.

Maya answered after two rings.

“Hey,” she said warmly. “How was the last day?”

“Good,” Paige said.

Her voice sounded hollow.

“We made the roster.”

Maya laughed. “I assumed you would.”

Paige closed her eyes.

“Maya, can we talk?”

The silence on the other end changed.

“Okay.”

Paige sat down on the bench in front of her locker.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

Maya sighed quietly. “This is about Azzi.”

It wasn’t a question.

Paige looked at the floor. “I didn’t want it to be.”

“But it is.”

Paige’s eyes burned.

“Yeah.”

Maya was silent for a moment.

Then she said, “You were never really here with me.”

Paige swallowed hard.

“That’s not because of anything you did.”

“I know.”

“You’re amazing.”

“Paige.”

“I mean it.”

“I know you do.” Maya’s voice was gentle. “But you don’t have to give me the breakup speech.”

Paige rubbed a hand over her face.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’ve said that.”

“I never wanted to hurt you.”

“I know.”

Paige laughed bitterly under her breath. “That seems to be my specialty.”

Maya paused.

“Did something happen with Azzi?”

“No.”

“Then why now?”

Paige looked toward the locker-room entrance.

She could still hear Azzi’s voice in her head.

We’re going on a date.

Paige’s chest tightened.

“She’s moving on,” Paige said quietly.

Maya understood immediately.

“And you realized you haven’t.”

Paige’s eyes filled.

“I thought I could.”

“But you can’t.”

“No.”

Another silence.

Maya exhaled.

“I like you, Paige. I do. But I knew from the first time you talked about her that there wasn’t room for me.”

Paige wiped quickly beneath her eye.

“I’m sorry.”

“I hope you figure it out,” Maya said. “Whatever that means.”

Paige nodded even though Maya couldn’t see her.

“You deserve someone who’s all in,” Paige said.

“So do you.”

The words landed harder than Paige expected.

The call ended a few minutes later.

Paige sat alone in the empty locker room, staring at her phone.

Things with Maya were over.

But nothing with Azzi had changed.

Azzi still had a date tomorrow.

Azzi still believed Paige didn’t care.

And Paige was still too afraid to admit that the thought of Azzi with someone else made her feel like she was losing her all over again.

When Paige returned to the apartment building that evening, she stayed in the lobby for several minutes before getting into the elevator.

She pressed sixteen.

The doors began to close.

Then someone called out.

“Hold it!”

Paige reached forward automatically.

The doors opened again.

Azzi stepped inside.

Her hair was still damp from a shower, and she wore soft gray sweats with an oversized hoodie. She looked tired.

Happy, too.

Paige wondered if that was because of making the roster.

Or Riley.

“Thanks,” Azzi said.

Paige nodded. “Yeah.”

The doors closed.

For once, Paige wished she lived on a higher floor.

The elevator started upward.

Azzi leaned against the wall. “Maya coming over tonight?”

Paige looked at her.

Azzi’s tone sounded casual, but she was picking at the sleeve of her hoodie.

“No,” Paige said.

Azzi nodded. “Okay.”

Paige could have left it there.

She should have.

Instead, she said, “I ended things with her.”

Azzi’s head snapped up.

“What?”

Paige stared at the floor numbers.

“It wasn’t fair to keep talking to her.”

Azzi studied her face.

“Why?”

Paige’s heart pounded.

Because I’m still in love with you.

Because you smiled at Riley and I couldn’t breathe.

Because every time I try to move on, I end up measuring everyone against you.

Paige forced a shrug. “It just wasn’t working out.”

Azzi kept watching her. “Did something happen?”

“No.”

“Did she do something?”

“No. She was great.”

Azzi’s brow furrowed. “Then why end it?”

The elevator reached sixteen.

The doors opened.

Paige stepped toward them.

She paused in the doorway but didn’t turn around.

“Sometimes someone can be great and you still know your heart isn’t in it.”

The words hung between them.

Azzi went very still.

Paige’s fingers curled at her sides.

She wanted to look back.

She didn’t.

“Good night, Azzi.”

Paige stepped out.

The doors closed behind her.

Azzi stayed frozen inside the elevator as it carried her toward eighteen.

Her heart was beating too fast.

Paige had ended things with Maya.

The same day she found out about Riley.

Azzi told herself it didn’t mean anything.

Paige had said it wasn’t working.

That was all.

But she could still hear Paige’s voice.

You still know your heart isn’t in it.

The elevator doors opened.

Azzi didn’t move right away.

Tomorrow night, she had a date with Riley.

A girl who was kind and funny and uncomplicated.

A girl who made Azzi smile.

Two floors below, Paige was alone.

vote for which one you guys like better

it’s a little different but i think you guys will really like it!

Summary: Paige comes home not feeling well and falls asleep to her girlfriends soothing voice.

a/n: the long awaited sick fic that shouldn’t have taken this long 😭

Warnings: just pure fluff

My Masterlist

—————————————————————————

The first sign that something was wrong was that Paige didn’t complain.

Normally, when Azzi told her to sit down, Paige had something to say. A dramatic sigh. A teasing little, Yes, ma’am. A halfhearted argument about how she was “literally fine” even while limping, shivering, or holding an ice pack to some part of her body like it was a personality trait.

Tonight, though, Paige just listened.

She came through the apartment door with her hoodie pulled up, shoulders rounded forward, backpack hanging off one arm like she’d forgotten it was there. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold outside, but not in the usual way. Not in the way that made her nose pink and her eyes bright.

This was different.

Her eyes looked heavy. Her mouth was pressed into a tired line. And when she kicked her shoes off, she missed the mat completely and just stared down at them like she didn’t have the energy to care.

Azzi looked up from the couch immediately.

“Paige?”

Paige blinked, slow and unfocused. “Hey.”

Azzi set her book down on her lap. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Paige nodded, then winced like even that small movement had cost her. “Just tired.”

Azzi didn’t believe her for a second.

Paige was tired all the time. Paige practically ran on exhaustion, iced coffee, and stubbornness. But this wasn’t Paige after a long practice or film session. This was Paige moving like the room was too loud, too bright, too much.

Azzi stood and crossed the room, her socks quiet against the floor. She reached Paige before Paige could try to escape to their bedroom and pretend she wasn’t miserable.

“Come here,” Azzi said softly.

Paige let out a faint breath. “Azzi, I’m fine.”

“There she is,” Azzi murmured. “I was waiting for the lie.”

Paige tried to smile, but it barely made it onto her face.

That was enough to make Azzi’s heart twist.

She lifted a hand and brushed the back of her fingers against Paige’s cheek, then her forehead. Paige’s skin was too warm.

“Baby,” Azzi said, her voice dropping.

Paige closed her eyes at the contact.

That gave her away more than anything. Paige was affectionate, always had been, but she usually melted into Azzi on purpose. This time, it was automatic. Like the second Azzi touched her, Paige’s body gave up pretending.

“You’re warm,” Azzi said.

“I’m always warm.”

“Your forehead is hot.”

“Maybe your hands are cold.”

“My hands are normal.”

Paige opened one eye. “Debatable.”

Azzi gave her a look.

Paige sighed, defeated. “Okay. Maybe I don’t feel amazing.”

Azzi slid the backpack off Paige’s shoulder and set it by the wall. “How bad?”

“Not bad bad.” Paige leaned back against the door, eyes closing again. “Just… headache. Chills. Kinda achy. My throat’s weird.”

“Did you eat?”

Paige hesitated.

Azzi narrowed her eyes. “Paige.”

“I had a granola bar.”

“When?”

Another pause.

“Morning-ish.”

Azzi inhaled slowly through her nose, trying not to fuss too hard right away because Paige already looked like she might crumble if Azzi raised her voice even a little.

“Okay,” Azzi said gently. “Bed.”

Paige opened both eyes. “I should shower first.”

“You can shower later.”

“I’m gross.”

“You’re sick.”

“I’m both.”

Azzi stepped closer, placing both hands on Paige’s waist. “Paige.”

The way she said it was soft, but firm. The kind of voice that usually made Paige stop fighting just to listen.

Paige looked down at her. Her eyes were glassy, blue and tired, and for a second she looked younger somehow. Smaller. Like all the energy she used to be loud and bright and impossible had been drained out of her.

“Bed,” Azzi repeated.

Paige’s shoulders dropped. “Okay.”

Azzi guided her down the hallway with a hand on her back. Paige moved slowly, one hand coming up to rub at her temple. Every few steps, she swallowed like her throat hurt.

By the time they reached the bedroom, Paige was shivering.

Azzi’s concern sharpened.

“Sit,” she said, pulling back the covers.

Paige sat on the edge of the bed and immediately hunched forward, elbows on her knees, hands covering her face.

Azzi crouched in front of her.

“Hey,” she whispered.

Paige dragged her hands down her face. “I hate being sick.”

“I know.”

“I had stuff I needed to do tonight.”

“It can wait.”

“No, it—”

“Paige.”

Paige stopped.

Azzi reached up and gently tugged the hood back from Paige’s head. Her hair was messy underneath, loose strands falling around her face. Azzi smoothed them back with careful fingers.

“You don’t have to earn rest,” Azzi said.

Paige swallowed again, looking away.

Azzi knew that look. Paige got it when she was too exhausted to argue but still felt guilty for needing anything. Like being human was something she had to apologize for.

Azzi softened even more.

“You’re allowed to feel bad,” she said. “You’re allowed to let me take care of you.”

Paige’s eyes flicked back to hers.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then Paige whispered, “Can you stay?”

Azzi’s heart practically folded in half.

“Of course I’m staying.”

Paige nodded, small and relieved.

Azzi helped her change out of her hoodie and into one of the soft oversized shirts Paige always stole from the laundry before Azzi could fold it. Paige lifted her arms with a dramatic little groan, and Azzi smiled despite herself.

“You sound like you’re ninety.”

“I feel ninety.”

“You’re twenty-four.”

“Not tonight.”

Azzi tucked her into bed, pulling the comforter up to her shoulders. Paige immediately curled onto her side, one hand tucked under her cheek. She looked miserable, but she also looked safer now, surrounded by blankets and pillows and the dim amber glow from the lamp on Azzi’s nightstand.

“I’m gonna get you water and medicine,” Azzi said.

Paige’s hand slipped out from under the blanket and caught Azzi’s wrist.

Azzi paused.

Paige’s fingers were warm against her skin. “Don’t take long.”

Azzi’s expression softened. “I won’t.”

Paige let go reluctantly.

Azzi moved quickly. She filled a glass of water, grabbed medicine from the cabinet, found a sleeve of crackers because Paige needed something in her stomach, and turned off the harsh kitchen light on her way back. When she returned, Paige hadn’t moved.

That worried her even more.

“Baby,” Azzi said quietly, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Sit up a little.”

Paige made a noise into the pillow.

“Very convincing. Come on.”

With effort, Paige pushed herself up. Azzi helped her drink some water, take the medicine, and nibble at two crackers before Paige turned her face away like the thought of more food personally offended her.

“That’s enough for now,” Azzi said.

“Thank God.”

Azzi set everything on the nightstand and brushed her thumb across Paige’s cheek. “Do you want me to turn the lamp off?”

Paige shook her head. “Not yet.”

“Okay.”

Azzi started to stand, but Paige caught her sleeve this time.

Azzi looked down.

Paige was staring at the book Azzi had left on the other side of the bed.

“Can you read?” Paige asked.

Azzi’s face softened instantly.

It had started months ago by accident.

Paige had come over after a brutal day, the kind that left her too wound up to sleep but too exhausted to talk. Azzi had been reading, and Paige had laid her head in Azzi’s lap, claiming she just needed five minutes. Azzi kept reading aloud because Paige had asked what was happening in the chapter, and halfway through the page, Paige had fallen asleep so deeply that Azzi had barely been able to move without waking her.

After that, it became a thing.

Not every night. Not even most nights. But on the nights Paige was anxious, overtired, hurting, or too stuck in her own head, Azzi would read to her. Sometimes Paige would pretend she cared about the plot. Sometimes she’d ask ridiculous questions just to make Azzi laugh. Sometimes she’d be out in less than five minutes.

Azzi had never told Paige how much she loved it.

There was something about Paige trusting her enough to shut her eyes. Something about Paige letting Azzi’s voice be the last thing she heard before sleep took her.

“You want me to read to you?” Azzi asked.

Paige nodded, her cheek pressed into the pillow. “It helps.”

Azzi’s chest warmed.

“Okay,” she whispered.

She changed quickly, climbed into bed beside Paige, and grabbed her book. It was one of the novels she’d been working through that week, the spine already creased, a bookmark tucked about halfway through.

Paige shifted closer immediately.

Azzi lifted her arm, and Paige tucked herself against her side, careful and slow. Her forehead pressed near Azzi’s shoulder. One of Paige’s legs tangled weakly with hers beneath the blankets.

Azzi adjusted the comforter around them both.

“Comfortable?” she asked.

Paige made a small sound. “Mhm.”

Azzi kissed the top of her head.

Paige let out a breath that sounded like relief.

Azzi opened the book, found her place, and started reading.

Her voice was quiet in the dark bedroom, soft enough to blend with the low hum of the heater and the occasional sound of a car passing outside. Paige stayed still beside her, breathing uneven at first, like her body couldn’t decide whether it wanted to shiver or sleep.

Azzi read slowly.

She didn’t rush the sentences. She let them stretch out, warm and steady, her fingers moving lightly through Paige’s hair between paragraphs.

At first, Paige tried to listen.

Azzi could tell because every now and then Paige would hum faintly or shift her hand against Azzi’s waist, like she was reacting to something in the story. Her eyes were closed, but she was still there, still following enough to stay tethered.

Then, little by little, Paige started to fade.

Her grip on Azzi’s shirt loosened.

Her breathing evened out.

The crease between her brows softened.

Azzi kept reading.

She turned the page as quietly as she could and glanced down. Paige’s face was tucked into her, lashes resting against flushed cheeks, lips parted slightly. She looked exhausted. She looked peaceful. She looked like someone who had finally stopped running.

Azzi’s throat tightened with affection.

She kept her voice steady anyway.

Another page.

Then another.

Paige shifted once, pressing closer in her sleep, her hand sliding across Azzi’s stomach like she needed to make sure Azzi was still there.

“I’m here,” Azzi whispered, though Paige was already gone.

Paige sighed.

Azzi smiled softly and continued reading for a few more minutes, just in case. She knew Paige well enough to know that stopping too soon could make her stir, could pull her right back from the edge of rest. So Azzi kept going, voice barely above a whisper, letting the story fill the room.

Eventually, Paige was fully asleep.

Deeply asleep.

The kind of sleep where her body went heavy against Azzi’s side, all that stubborn tension finally gone. Her fever-warm forehead rested against Azzi’s shoulder, and every breath came slow and even.

Azzi closed the book carefully, sliding the bookmark into place.

For a while, she just looked at her.

Paige Bueckers, who could light up any room she walked into. Paige, who talked too much when she was nervous and pretended she wasn’t soft even though she loved harder than anyone Azzi had ever known. Paige, who pushed herself past empty and still tried to smile so nobody would worry.

Paige, who trusted Azzi enough to fall apart quietly.

Azzi set the book on the nightstand and turned the lamp down until the room was nearly dark.

Paige stirred.

“Az?” she mumbled.

Azzi froze, then immediately brought her hand back to Paige’s hair. “I’m here.”

Paige didn’t open her eyes. “You stopped reading.”

Azzi smiled. “You fell asleep.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You absolutely did.”

Paige’s nose scrunched faintly. “Keep going.”

“You’re asleep.”

“Still.”

Azzi bit back a laugh. “You want me to keep reading even though you’re asleep?”

Paige nodded against her shoulder, barely conscious. “Like your voice.”

Azzi’s heart melted completely.

She reached for the book again with one hand, awkwardly opening it while keeping Paige tucked against her.

“Okay,” she whispered. “I’ll keep going.”

Paige relaxed instantly.

Azzi read in the dark.

She read even though Paige was asleep before the first sentence was over. She read because Paige had asked, because Paige loved her voice, because Paige needed rest and Azzi would do anything to give it to her.

Outside, the night settled quiet around the apartment.

Inside, Paige slept curled into Azzi like she belonged there.

And Azzi kept reading until her own eyes grew heavy, until the words blurred softly on the page, until she finally let the book rest against her chest and turned her face toward Paige’s hair.

“I love you,” she whispered.

Paige, still asleep, shifted closer.

Azzi smiled.

Then she closed her eyes too, one hand still tangled gently in Paige’s hair, the book resting between them like a promise.

i honestly have no idea 😅😅

Summary: They broke up a long time ago. Azzi told herself not to go back, not after everything. But she can’t resist Paige Bueckers.

A/N: thank you for all the support this fic is getting!! love you guys

Warnings: angst

A Couple Minutes Masterlist

Main Masterlist

—————————————————————————

Chapter Six

Dallas, TX

Training camp started before the sun came up.

Azzi learned that quickly.

Her alarm went off at 5:15, sharp and cruel, slicing through the silence of her apartment before her body had even figured out where it was.

For a second, she didn’t move.

She stared at the ceiling, blinking slowly, the room still dim around her. The shape of her new bedroom was unfamiliar. The windows were in the wrong place. The air felt different. Even the quiet didn’t sound like home.

Then it hit her.

Dallas.

Training camp.

WNBA.

Paige two floors below.

Azzi squeezed her eyes shut.

“No,” she mumbled into the empty room. “Not starting with that.”

She rolled onto her side and reached for her phone, turning off the alarm before it could scream again. For a moment, she just held it in her hand.

No texts from Paige.

No texts from anyone except her mom, who had sent a good-luck message sometime around midnight.

Mom: First day tomorrow. Proud of you always. Be yourself. That’s more than enough.

Azzi read it twice.

Then a third time.

Her throat tightened, but she smiled faintly.

Azzi: Thank you. Love you.

She set the phone down and forced herself out of bed.

The apartment was still half unpacked, but she had managed to find everything she needed the night before. Practice gear folded on the chair. Sneakers by the door. A water bottle on the counter. Her team backpack leaned against the wall like it had been waiting for her longer than she had been waiting for it.

Azzi brushed her teeth, washed her face, and pulled her hair back carefully. She moved through the motions like structure could save her. Socks. Shorts. Shirt. Hoodie. Shoes.

Do the next thing.

Then the next.

Then the next.

She grabbed her bag and opened her apartment door.

The hallway was quiet.

Too quiet.

She stepped out and locked the door behind her, then walked toward the elevators.

Every footstep felt louder than it should have.

When she pressed the button, she found herself glancing at the floor indicator.

Eighteen.

Seventeen.

Sixteen.

Her stomach tightened.

The elevator stopped.

Of course it stopped.

Azzi stared at the closed doors.

She had approximately two seconds to prepare herself.

It was not enough.

The doors slid open.

Paige stood inside.

Because apparently the universe had jokes.

She was in team-issued sweats, a hoodie hanging loose around her shoulders, hair pulled into a messy bun that looked like she had done it in the dark. A duffel bag was slung across her body, and she held a shaker bottle in one hand.

She looked half asleep.

And devastatingly familiar.

Paige blinked when she saw her.

“Morning,” she said softly.

Azzi’s chest did that stupid little twist again.

She hated it.

“Morning,” Azzi replied.

She stepped into the elevator, keeping to the opposite side.

The doors closed.

The elevator began to descend.

For five floors, neither of them spoke.

Azzi stared straight ahead at their reflections in the shiny elevator doors. Paige stared at the floor. The space between them felt crowded with every conversation they weren’t having.

Finally, Paige cleared her throat. “You ready?”

Azzi glanced over. “For camp?”

“Yeah.”

Azzi looked forward again. “I guess I have to be.”

Paige nodded.

Quiet.

Then, “You’ll be good.”

Azzi laughed under her breath before she could stop herself.

Paige looked at her.

Azzi shook her head. “Sorry.”

“What?”

“You always do that.”

“Do what?”

“Say things like they’re facts because you want them to be true.”

Paige’s expression flickered.

Azzi immediately regretted how sharp it sounded.

But not enough to take it back.

Paige looked down again. “I wasn’t trying to make it weird.”

“I know.”

“I just meant…” Paige paused. “You’re built for this.”

Azzi swallowed.

That was worse.

That was so much worse.

Because Paige said it quietly. Honestly. Like she had never stopped believing it for a second.

Azzi tightened her grip on her bag strap. “Thanks.”

The elevator dinged.

Lobby.

The doors opened, and they walked out together, close enough that anyone watching might assume they were friends.

Or something more.

Or something ruined.

Outside, the team car waited near the curb. Azzi had expected to ride alone, but Paige walked toward the same black SUV and opened the back door.

Azzi stopped.

Paige noticed.

“They sent one car,” Paige said, looking almost apologetic. “I can sit up front.”

Azzi’s jaw tightened.

Of course.

Same building. Same team. Same car.

She wanted to ask if Maya ever rode in that car.

She hated herself for the thought.

“It’s fine,” Azzi said.

Paige hesitated. “Azzi—”

“It’s fine.”

Paige nodded once and climbed into the front passenger seat.

Azzi got in the back.

The drive to the facility was mostly silent. The driver talked a little about traffic, weather, and how early camp always started, but neither Azzi nor Paige offered much back.

Azzi looked out the window, watching the city wake up.

She was not going to let this ruin her first day.

She wasn’t.

She had worked too hard. Survived too much. Dreamed too long.

This was hers.

Not Paige’s.

Not theirs.

Hers.

When they arrived, the facility glowed under the morning light. Staff moved in and out of the entrance. A few players were already there, laughing near the doors with coffees in their hands.

Azzi stepped out of the car and took a breath.

Fresh start.

Beside her, Paige grabbed her bag from the front seat.

For a second, they stood shoulder to shoulder.

Not touching.

Still too close.

Then someone called Paige’s name.

She looked over, smiled faintly, and lifted a hand.

The team’s veteran guard, Alysha, walked over and clapped Paige on the shoulder before turning to Azzi with a warm grin.

“There she is,” Alysha said. “Rookie number one.”

Azzi laughed. “That’s one way to put pressure on me.”

Alysha waved her off. “Please. You were born under pressure. Welcome to camp.”

“Thanks.”

Alysha glanced between her and Paige, maybe sensing something, maybe not. If she did, she was kind enough not to show it.

“Come on,” she said. “Rookies have paperwork, gear check, medical screening, and then they throw you into conditioning because apparently joy is illegal.”

Azzi smiled for real this time. “Sounds perfect.”

Paige fell into step behind them, quiet.

Inside, everything moved fast.

Azzi got her locker.

That was the moment it felt real.

Her nameplate was already there.

FUDD

Clean white letters above a locker stocked with practice gear, shoes, towels, and a folded jersey.

Azzi stood in front of it for a second longer than necessary.

A dream.

A real one.

She reached up and touched the nameplate lightly.

Behind her, someone said, “Looks good up there.”

Azzi turned.

Paige stood a few lockers down.

Her own nameplate was already familiar, worn into the room like she had been part of the walls long before Azzi arrived.

BUECKERS

Azzi looked from Paige’s name to her own.

Two lockers apart.

Of course.

She almost laughed.

Paige seemed to realize it at the same time because her mouth twitched in a way that looked half amused, half pained.

“Two lockers apart?” Azzi asked.

Paige lifted both hands slightly. “I swear I didn’t do that.”

“I’m sure.”

“I didn’t.”

Azzi gave her a look.

Paige sighed. “Okay, I may have told them you like the end lockers because you hate being crowded.”

Azzi stared at her.

Paige froze.

“I mean—” Paige stumbled. “Not like that. I just—when they asked if anyone knew your preferences, I—”

Azzi looked away quickly because something in her chest had gone too soft.

“You remembered that?”

Paige’s voice was quiet. “I remember everything.”

Azzi hated that her eyes stung.

Before she could respond, Alysha appeared between them with a clipboard.

“Fudd, you’re with me. Bueckers, stop hovering.”

Paige blinked. “I’m not hovering.”

Alysha stared at her.

Paige took a step back.

Azzi pressed her lips together to keep from smiling.

Alysha winked at Azzi. “See? Rookie treatment comes with free entertainment.”

The morning stretched into hours of measurements, medical evaluations, drills, team meetings, strength testing, and a conditioning session that made Azzi briefly question every life decision that had led her to professional basketball.

By the time they finally got on the court for actual basketball, her nerves had burned away and instinct took over.

Catch.

Set.

Shoot.

Again.

Again.

Again.

The first three went in clean.

The fourth hit back rim.

The fifth splashed.

Azzi exhaled.

This, she knew.

The ball in her hands. The rhythm of her feet. The snap of her wrist. The quiet before the net moved.

Basketball had always been the one language that made sense even when everything else didn’t.

Until Paige stepped onto the opposite wing.

Then everything got complicated again.

They ended up in the same shooting group.

Of course.

A coach fed Paige first. Paige caught, rose, and hit from the right side.

The ball barely touched the net.

Azzi looked away too slowly.

Paige jogged after her rebound, passed it back, then moved behind Azzi in line.

Azzi stepped forward.

Catch.

Shoot.

Make.

Paige’s voice came from behind her. “Good shot.”

Azzi closed her eyes briefly.

Not here.

She jogged after her ball, passed it back, and returned to the line.

For the next ten minutes, they worked in silence except for the squeak of sneakers and the sound of the ball hitting hardwood.

They did not talk.

They didn’t need to.

That was the problem.

Their bodies remembered before their mouths did.

When the drill shifted into partner reads, Coach paired them together without hesitation.

“Bueckers, Fudd. You two should already know each other’s timing.”

Azzi’s stomach flipped.

Paige’s jaw tightened.

Nobody else reacted, but Azzi felt the words land.

You two should already know each other.

They did.

They knew too much.

The first rep was a simple flare screen.

Paige handled at the top. Azzi started in the corner, cut hard, curled around the screen, and found the pass waiting exactly where her hands expected it.

She shot before thinking.

Swish.

A few players clapped.

Jose nodded. “That’s what I’m talking about. Again.”

Azzi jogged back into place, heart pounding for reasons that had nothing to do with conditioning.

Again.

Paige drove left, drew the defender, kicked it out before Azzi even cleared the screen.

Perfect pass.

Perfect shot.

Make.

Again.

Backdoor cut.

Paige saw it instantly.

Bounce pass through traffic.

Azzi caught it in stride and finished at the rim.

The gym buzzed.

Zah shouted, “Oh, that UConn connection is nasty!”

Azzi’s cheeks went hot.

Paige looked away.

Azzi wanted to be annoyed.

She was annoyed.

But underneath it, something else hurt worse.

Because playing with Paige still felt like breathing.

And Azzi didn’t know what to do with that.

By the end of practice, her legs were heavy and her shirt was soaked through. Her lungs burned. Her mind buzzed.

Coach gathered everyone at center court and talked about standards, effort, details, being early, being locked in.

Azzi listened.

She really did.

But every time Paige shifted beside her, Azzi’s body noticed.

When practice finally ended, Azzi stayed late to shoot free throws.

Not because she needed to.

Because she needed the room to empty first.

One by one, players headed to the locker room.

Paige lingered near the bench, pretending to fix something in her bag.

Azzi ignored her.

Shot.

Make.

Shot.

Make.

Shot.

Make.

Eventually, Paige walked over.

Azzi caught the ball and held it against her hip. “What?”

Paige stopped a few feet away. “You looked good today.”

Azzi looked at the rim. “So did you.”

The words slipped out before she could stop them.

Paige’s expression softened.

Azzi immediately hated it.

“I mean basketball,” Azzi said quickly.

Paige nodded, mouth twitching. “I figured.”

Azzi dribbled once. “Don’t make it weird.”

“I’m not.”

“You smiled.”

“I’m allowed to smile.”

“Not like that.”

Paige tilted her head. “Like what?”

Azzi shot the free throw.

It went in.

She caught the rebound and looked back at Paige.

“Like you remember me.”

Paige’s smile faded.

The gym felt too quiet.

“I do,” Paige said.

Azzi’s chest pulled tight.

She tucked the ball under her arm and walked past Paige toward the rack.

“I’m leaving,” she said.

“Okay.”

“I need coffee.”

“It’s almost noon.”

“Exactly.”

Paige looked like she wanted to say more, maybe offer to go with her, maybe make another mistake.

But she didn’t.

“See you tomorrow,” Paige said instead.

Azzi nodded without looking back.

“See you.”

By the time Azzi showered and changed, most of the team had cleared out. She slipped out of the facility alone, choosing to walk instead of taking the team car. It was warm outside, but not unbearable. The kind of heat that pressed against her skin and made the world feel slower.

She found the coffee shop on the corner two blocks from the facility.

It was small and bright, with hanging plants in the windows and a chalkboard menu written in messy handwriting. The smell of espresso and baked bread hit her as soon as she opened the door.

Azzi immediately felt some of the tension loosen in her shoulders.

There were a few people scattered at tables, laptops open, iced coffees sweating beside them. Soft music played overhead. Behind the counter, a girl looked up from steaming milk.

Azzi stopped.

The girl smiled.

And wow.

She was pretty.

Not in the polished, intimidating way Maya had been pretty. This was softer. Warmer. Curly brown hair tied back with a green scrunchie, freckles across her nose, sleeves pushed up to her elbows, a tiny tattoo of a crescent moon on her wrist.

“Hi,” the girl said. “What can I get started for you?”

Azzi remembered, after a second too long, that she was supposed to speak.

“Hi,” she said, stepping up to the counter. “Um, iced vanilla latte. Please.”

The girl tapped the order into the register. “Size?”

“Medium.”

“We call that a regular here because we refuse to be fancy.”

Azzi laughed.

It surprised her.

The girl smiled wider like she had won something. “Regular iced vanilla latte. Anything else?”

Azzi glanced at the pastry case. “What’s good?”

“Depends. Are you looking for emotional support or actual nutrition?”

Azzi blinked.

Then she laughed again.

The girl leaned her elbows on the counter. “Because the spinach feta croissant is technically food. But the cinnamon roll has saved lives.”

“Saved lives?”

“Mine, at least three times.”

Azzi smiled despite herself. “Then I guess I need the cinnamon roll.”

“Excellent choice. Emotionally responsible.”

Azzi shook her head, still smiling.

The girl grabbed a pastry bag. “Name for the order?”

“Azzi.”

The girl froze for half a second.

Then her eyes narrowed playfully. “Like Azzi Fudd?”

Azzi’s smile faltered.

Not because the girl recognized her. That was going to happen now. She knew that.

But for one blissful minute, she had just been a tired girl ordering coffee after practice.

“Yeah,” Azzi said. “Like Azzi Fudd.”

The girl’s face softened immediately. “Sorry. I promise I’m not about to be weird.”

Azzi relaxed a little. “Thanks.”

“I mean, internally I’m being very normal and definitely not thinking about the draft.”

Azzi laughed again.

The girl grinned. “But externally? Chill. Very chill.”

“I appreciate that.”

“I’m Riley,” she said, sticking out her hand over the counter like they weren’t in the middle of a coffee shop transaction.

Azzi looked at her hand, then shook it.

Riley’s hand was warm.

“Nice to meet you,” Azzi said.

“You too, Dallas Wings’ newest regular iced vanilla latte.”

Azzi shook her head. “That might be the worst nickname I’ve ever gotten.”

“Give me time. I can do worse.”

For the first time all day, Azzi felt light.

Not healed.

Not fixed.

Just light.

Riley started making the drink, moving easily behind the counter.

“So,” Riley said, glancing over her shoulder. “First day of camp?”

Azzi blinked. “How’d you know?”

Riley pointed vaguely toward the window. “Tall athletic people have been coming in here all week looking stressed and over-caffeinated. You fit the pattern.”

Azzi leaned against the counter. “That obvious?”

“A little. But in a cute way.”

Azzi’s eyebrows lifted.

Riley turned back to the espresso machine quickly, but Azzi could see her smile.

Azzi should have panicked.

She should have felt guilty.

She should have thought of Paige.

Okay, she did think of Paige.

But only for a second.

Then Riley set the drink on the counter and wrote AZZI on the cup with a little star beside it.

Azzi looked at it.

A tiny star.

Something about it made her chest soften.

Riley grabbed the cinnamon roll and slid it over too. “On the house.”

Azzi frowned. “What? No.”

“Yes.”

“Riley.”

“Ooh, full name already.”

Azzi tried not to smile. “I can pay for it.”

“You paid for the coffee. The cinnamon roll is a welcome-to-Dallas gift.”

“You give every new customer a free cinnamon roll?”

“No.” Riley leaned forward slightly. “Just the ones who look like they’re trying really hard not to cry in public.”

Azzi went still.

The joke softened immediately from Riley’s face.

“Sorry,” Riley said quietly. “Too much?”

Azzi looked down at the cup.

For some reason, she didn’t feel embarrassed.

Maybe because Riley wasn’t looking at her like she was fragile. Just like she had noticed.

“No,” Azzi said. “It’s okay.”

Riley nodded, gentler now. “New city?”

“Yeah.”

“New team?”

Azzi huffed softly. “Yeah.”

“New everything?”

Azzi looked up.

Riley’s eyes were kind.

Azzi swallowed.

“Pretty much.”

Riley was quiet for a second. Then she said, “Well, for what it’s worth, this coffee shop is a good place to feel weird in a new city. Nobody bothers you too much, the plants are real, and I only judge people’s orders if they ask for six pumps of sugar-free hazelnut.”

Azzi laughed. “That’s oddly specific.”

“It happened yesterday. I’m still recovering.”

Azzi took her drink and pastry, but didn’t move away from the counter yet.

Riley noticed.

“So,” Riley said, wiping her hands on a towel, “do you have plans after this? Or are you doing the dramatic new-city thing where you wander around pretending you’re in a movie?”

Azzi smiled. “I hadn’t decided.”

“Wandering can be therapeutic.”

“Is that your professional barista opinion?”

“Yes. Very official.”

Azzi took a sip of her latte.

It was good.

Really good.

She looked at Riley over the lid. “This is amazing.”

Riley placed a hand over her heart. “That sounded sincere.”

“It was.”

“Careful. Compliments go straight to my head.”

“Noted.”

Riley leaned against the counter again. “So, Azzi Fudd, do you need recommendations? Food places? Grocery stores? Best place to sit when you want to avoid all human contact?”

Azzi smiled. “Actually, yes.”

“To all three?”

“Especially the last one.”

Riley laughed. “Okay. There’s a little park three blocks over. Not huge, but there’s a bench under this giant oak tree that somehow nobody ever sits on. Best hiding spot in the neighborhood.”

Azzi nodded seriously. “That’s valuable information.”

“I don’t give that out to everyone.”

“I’m honored.”

“You should be.”

Their eyes held for a second too long.

Azzi felt her face warm.

Riley looked down first, smiling to herself.

A customer came in behind Azzi, and the bell over the door jingled. Azzi stepped aside quickly.

“I should let you work,” she said.

Riley looked almost disappointed. “Probably. My boss loves when I remember I’m employed.”

Azzi laughed. “Thanks for the coffee. And the cinnamon roll.”

“Anytime.”

Azzi turned toward the door.

“Wait.”

She stopped and looked back.

Riley grabbed a napkin and scribbled something on it with a pen from beside the register. Then she slid it across the counter.

Azzi walked back slowly.

Riley’s cheeks were a little pink now, but her smile stayed playful.

“My number,” she said. “In case you need more official Dallas survival tips.”

Azzi stared at the napkin.

Then at Riley.

For the first time in months, someone looking at her made her feel nervous in a way that didn’t hurt.

Not completely.

She picked up the napkin carefully.

“Thanks,” Azzi said, softer now.

Riley smiled. “No pressure. Seriously.”

Azzi nodded.

“I know.”

But she slipped the napkin into her pocket.

And Riley saw.

Her smile turned brighter.

Azzi left the coffee shop with a latte in one hand, a cinnamon roll in the other, and a phone number tucked against her hip like a secret.

The Dallas heat met her outside, but it didn’t feel as heavy now.

She walked slowly back toward her apartment, sipping her coffee and letting herself breathe.

Maybe this was good.

Maybe this was exactly what she needed.

Not a relationship. Not a rebound. Not revenge.

Just proof.

Proof that the world was bigger than Paige.

Proof that someone could look at her and see who she was now, not just who she had been beside someone else.

Proof that maybe, eventually, her heart could do something other than ache.

She was still thinking about Riley’s smile when she reached the apartment building.

The lobby doors slid open.

Azzi stepped inside.

And there was Paige.

Again.

Standing near the elevator with her gym bag over her shoulder, hair still damp from a second workout or maybe a shower at the facility. She looked up the second Azzi walked in.

Her eyes dropped to the coffee cup.

Then to the pastry bag.

Then, finally, to Azzi’s face.

Azzi knew Paige too well.

She saw the question before Paige asked it.

“Coffee?” Paige said.

Azzi stopped beside her, pressing the elevator button. “That’s usually what comes in coffee cups.”

Paige gave her a look.

Azzi took a sip, hiding her smile behind the lid.

The elevator doors opened.

They both stepped inside.

For once, Azzi didn’t move to the opposite corner.

She stood in the middle, facing forward.

Paige noticed.

Of course she did.

The doors closed.

The elevator rose.

Paige glanced at the pastry bag. “You went to the place by the facility?”

Azzi’s eyebrows lifted. “You know it?”

“Yeah. Good coffee.”

Azzi nodded. “Really good.”

Paige looked forward.

Then, too casually, “Who was working?”

Azzi slowly turned her head.

Paige stared straight ahead like she had asked a normal question.

Azzi’s lips twitched.

“Why?”

“No reason.”

“Paige.”

“What?”

Azzi tilted her head. “Are you asking if I met someone?”

Paige’s ears turned pink.

Azzi felt a tiny spark of satisfaction.

Then a tiny spark of guilt.

Then she remembered Maya’s hand on Paige’s arm.

The guilt disappeared.

“Her name is Riley,” Azzi said.

Paige’s jaw shifted.

Azzi watched the numbers climb.

“She gave me a cinnamon roll.”

Paige looked at her then. “Did she?”

“Mhm.”

“That’s nice.”

“It was.”

Quiet.

Then Paige asked, “She give everyone free cinnamon rolls?”

Azzi looked at her fully now.

Paige’s face was carefully blank.

Too carefully.

Azzi smiled.

“No,” she said. “Just me.”

Paige looked away.

Azzi shouldn’t have enjoyed it.

She did anyway.

The elevator reached sixteen.

Paige stepped toward the doors, then paused.

“Azzi.”

Azzi looked at her.

Paige’s expression was unreadable, but her eyes weren’t.

Her eyes were jealous.

Hurt.

Trying not to be.

Azzi’s grip tightened around the coffee cup.

For one second, she almost softened.

Then Paige said, “Just be careful.”

Azzi’s whole face changed.

The doors opened.

Paige seemed to realize immediately that she had said the wrong thing.

Azzi laughed once, sharp and quiet. “Wow.”

Paige turned back. “That’s not what I meant.”

“No, it’s exactly what you meant.”

“I just—”

“You just what?” Azzi asked. “You can have Maya in the lobby, but I need to be careful because a girl gave me her number with a cinnamon roll?”

Paige froze.

The air went still.

Paige’s eyes dropped to Azzi’s pocket.

Azzi realized too late what she had revealed.

Paige looked back up slowly.

“She gave you her number?”

Azzi lifted her chin. “Yeah.”

Paige swallowed.

For a moment, she looked like she had no idea what to do with her face.

Good, Azzi thought.

Then Paige nodded once.

“Okay,” she said quietly.

Azzi expected anger.

A comeback.

Something defensive.

But Paige just stepped out of the elevator.

Before the doors closed, she looked back.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Paige said. “I know I don’t get a say.”

Azzi said nothing.

Paige’s voice dropped.

“I just don’t want anyone to hurt you.”

Azzi’s chest twisted.

The doors started sliding shut.

Azzi met Paige’s eyes until there was only a thin line of her left.

Then nothing.

The elevator carried Azzi up to eighteen.

When she got inside her apartment, she set the coffee and cinnamon roll on the counter. Then she pulled the napkin from her pocket.

Riley’s number was written in blue ink, with a tiny star beside her name.

Azzi stared at it.

Her heart still hurt from Paige’s face.

But it also fluttered a little when she remembered Riley leaning across the counter, smiling like Azzi was just a girl and not a headline, not a storyline, not Paige Bueckers’ ex-anything.

Azzi picked up her phone.

She typed the number in.

Then she hesitated.

For a second, her thumb hovered over the message box.

Part of her felt guilty.

Part of her felt scared.

Part of her felt free.

Finally, she typed:

Hey, it’s Azzi. Thanks for the cinnamon roll. It might’ve actually saved my life.

She hit send before she could overthink it.

The reply came two minutes later.

Riley: I knew it. Officially adding “lifesaving cinnamon rolls” to the menu.

Azzi smiled.

A real smile.

Small, but real.

She leaned back against the counter, coffee cooling beside her, rain clouds gathering faintly over the Dallas skyline.

Two floors below, Paige was probably hurting.

Azzi knew that.

She felt it like an old instinct.

But for the first time, she didn’t run toward it.

For the first time, she let Paige hurt without making it her responsibility.

Her phone buzzed again.

Riley: Also, you free later this week? I can show you that hiding spot I mentioned. Very exclusive tour.

Azzi looked at the message for a long time.

Then she typed back.

Azzi: Yeah. I’d like that.

She set the phone down and picked up the cinnamon roll.

Outside, Dallas stretched wide and unfamiliar beneath her window.

Training camp had officially started.

Her past lived two floors below.

But maybe, just maybe, something new was waiting around the corner.