solie

The white leather booth Paige was sprawled across curved around a glowing table littered with half-empty glasses, melting ice, and the remains of what had once been three very full bottles of liquor. Now they sat mostly drained in silver buckets sweating onto the tables, casualties of a long night.

Paige swirled her Dirty Shirley and watched Nika aggressively throw back another shot of tequila that she absolutely did not need. Honestly, she hadn’t needed the last three, but Paige wasn’t going to try to make that point again. It was a lost cause. The Croatian didn’t even wince. 

“I’m serious,” Nika declared for probably the tenth time in the last hour, leaning forward so abruptly her dark ponytail whipped over her shoulder. “She knew exactly what she was doing.”

Across from them, Napheesa Collier, Paige’s Lynx teammate, snorted into her vodka soda.

“Oh my god,” Phee laughed. “You are obsessed with this girl.”

“I am not obsessed with her,” Nika shot back. “I fucking hate her.”

Paige bit back a smile behind the rim of her glass. There was an important distinction in Nika’s mind. Obsession implied admiration. Hatred was apparently noble. And Paige knew better than to question the logic after all these years. This feud ran all the way back to college. 

Phee raised a brow. “You’ve said her name at least twenty times tonight.”

“That’s because she’s a fucking bitch.”

“She’s literally just a soccer player,” Paige corrected lazily, her brain, thankfully, a bit fuzzy from the alcohol. “Why you so pressed about her all the time, bro?”

“She’s the devil in shin guards,” Nika argued. “Seriously. Did you see how tiny her shin guards are? Like why even wear them?” 

Paige laughed, sinking deeper into the absurdly soft white leather. The booth was tucked in the corner of the VIP section overlooking the dance floor below, giving them a clear view of the entire club. The place was decent size, and about as trendy as you could find in Minneapolis, where the Lynx and the newer NWSL team, Twin Cities FC, were based. 

Honestly, Paige kind of loved it. Mostly because she was perfectly drunk enough for the pulsing music to feel pleasant instead of overstimulating as it hummed through her body. And the Lynx had off the next day, a nice reprieve from the gauntlet of games they’d been in to clinch a playoff spot.

Nika, meanwhile, was still fully locked into her postgame spiral after her team had lost to the Washington Spirit. Yet again. 

“She took my legs out,” Nika continued, pointing accusingly at nobody. “No attempt at the ball whatsoever.”

Phee tilted her head. “You sure you’re not just pissed she got by you and scored? ”

“Who’s side are you on, Phee?” Nika hissed before turning her attention to Paige. “Get your girl in line, Bueckers,” Nika scoffed, thrusting her thumb over her shoulder. Then she turned, glancing back at Phee through half-open eyes. “Seriously, did you even watch the game? She coulda broke my leg.”

Paige rubbed a hand over her mouth to hide another grin. It had been a hard challenge, but Nika was being a bit dramatic.

The game itself had admittedly been entertaining as hell. Twin Cities FC versus the Washington Spirit always got nasty fast, mostly because their captains seemed biologically incapable of behaving normally around each other for more than five consecutive minutes. 

There had been shoving. Bewilderment. Screaming. A few dramatic flops that Nika was still furious hadn’t gotten called. And, okay, maybe Azzi had baited Nika into at least half of them. 

In her defense, Nika was extremely easy to bait. Paige was working with a small sample size, but she was pretty sure Croatians came out of the womb ready to commit mild acts of violence over sports. That Balkan temper activated faster than Caitlin Clark fans on Twitter when Paige was mentioned in MVP talks. 

Paige had watched the game from the sideline with Phee and a few of her other Lynx teammates. She spent most of the second half trying not to laugh every time the broadcast camera caught Nika and Azzi chirping at each other. 

“You know what the worst part is?” Nika groaned.

Phee sighed. “I feel like you’re going to tell us anyway...”

“She acts all smug after. Like she’s funny. She’s been like that since college.”

Paige hummed into her drink. Because Azzi was kinda funny. Even if she was her best friend’s nemesis, Paige enjoyed how Azzi played with a competitive fire that bordered on cocky. It was how Paige played too. And Nika. Maybe that was part of the problem; they were all too similar.

Nika narrowed her eyes. “Why are you making that face?”

“What face?”

“That face,” she huffed, swirling her finger inches from Paige’s smirk. 

Paige shrugged one shoulder, entirely unbothered and happy to goad her twin on. “I’m just saying. You can only get so mad when somebody looks that good cooking you.”

Nika stared at her in betrayal while Phee let out a laugh so loud a couple people turned toward the booth. Paige could tell from Nika’s shocked expression that she may have taken it a step too far.

“You’re sick in the head,” Nika informed Paige flatly.

Paige grinned, completely unashamed, but still eager to stay off Nika’s bad side. “Okay, okay,” she chuckled, tossing her hands up in surrender. “You know I support you, twin.”

Nika sighed and dropped her head back dramatically against the booth. “I can’t believe this is the support system I have.”

Phee checked her phone and groaned, her lips pulling into a tight line. “Speaking of support systems, I have to go home and get some sleep. Mila is going to be up so early.” 

Paige laughed as Phee slid off the couch, grabbing her purse and jacket off the seat beside her.

“Tell Mila I said hi.”

“She likes you more than me at this point,” Phee muttered.

“That’s because I bribe her with candy all the time.”

“I know,” Phee huffed, shaking her head. “You are literally the reason I have problems.”

Paige accepted the quick side hug Phee leaned down to give her before she turned to Nika.

“And you,” Phee pointed before dapping her up, “need to stop acting like Azzi keyed your car.”

“She’d probably fucking enjoy it.”

“Goodnight, drama queen,” Phee chuckled. 

Nika flipped her off affectionately as Phee disappeared through the crowded VIP section toward the exit.

The booth settled into quiet for a moment as they watched Phee leave. Well. As quiet as a nightclub could be.

Holding her sweating glass in one hand, Paige stretched her other arm along the back of the booth, letting her gaze drift lazily across the crowd below while Nika continued muttering under her breath about missed calls and corrupt referees and apparently the moral collapse of professionalism in soccer.

Honestly, Paige only half listened. She loved Nika like a sister, but sometimes post-loss-Nika was like listening to a bad podcast with no pause button. Especially if she lost to Azzi.

Their feud started years ago. Nika and Paige went to UCONN, Azzi to UCLA. They didn’t cross paths much, at least, not enough to think there was time to become bitter enemies. Somehow, Azzi and Nika found a way. If Paige really thought about it, it made sense. The first time Nika and Azzi met was sophomore year when UCONN played UCLA in the national championship game. And maybe, Azzi took a dive in the box that led to a game winning penalty kick for UCLA. 

That was where it started but certainly not where it ended. Since then, the two had played countless times. In college tournaments, in subsequent national championship games, in the NWSL, in charity matches. And every time there was pushing and shoving, and cheap shots and swearing, and derogatory names mumbled under their breath. At least, that’s what Nika told her and Paige, ever the supportive friend, didn’t doubt her for a second. 

“And then,” Nika continued, drawing Paige’s attention back in, “she had the audacity to wink at me afterward.”

Paige smirked into her drink, trying not to choke on the sip she just took. “That’s kinda funny, bro.”

Nika whipped toward her. “Don’t act like you don’t hate her just as much as me.”

Paige opened her mouth to respond but stopped as a raucous laugh pulled her gaze away. 

A group of women had entered the VIP section, full of smiles and what Paige assumed must be postgame adrenaline. Security waved them through with immediate recognition of either their beauty or talent. She wasn’t sure which. 

Paige instantly recognized them too. Washington Spirit players. And right in the middle of them… 

Oh this is gonna be good, she thought with a wry smile. 

Paige slowly leaned back against the booth cushions, manspreading a bit further, eyes narrowing just slightly as Azzi stepped fully into view.

She was wearing black baggy jeans and a tiny red top. A silver chain reflected against her caramel skin and her hair was half up, half down in loose curls. 

Nika noticed Paige had gone quiet and followed her line of sight. Her entire face twisted in disdain when she recognized who was there. She drew in a deep breath like she was trying to fill herself with all of the patience she’d need to get through this encounter. Paige knew there wasn’t enough of that in the entire world. 

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Nika spat. 

Paige bit the inside of her cheek hard enough to hurt, mostly to stop herself from smiling at the new development in their evening. 

“Absolutely not,” Nika muttered, sitting forward so fast she sloshed some vodka onto the table. “She’s stalking me now. She’s a legitimate psychopath, Paige.”

Paige made a vague sound of acknowledgment, but honestly, her attention had already drifted back. Azzi was laughing at something one of her teammates said, head tipped back, and it hit Paige square in the chest in that irritatingly familiar way it always did.

Azzi was hot. 

Objectively. 

Subjectively.

All-the-jectivelys.

The club lights caught the cross pendant around Azzi’s throat every few seconds, tiny flashes of sparkles against warm brown skin, and Paige’s eyes tracked the movement before she could stop herself. Her top was cropped just enough to show a strip of stomach when she moved, toned abs in full view. 

Throat growing dry, Paige quickly averted her gaze before she got caught staring. By Azzi or Nika. To be honest, she wasn’t sure which would be worse. Probably Nika. She was at least close enough to wrap her hands around Paige’s neck and squeeze. 

“She’s looking over here,” Nika complained, glaring back at the Spirit striker.

Paige took another sip, eyes slowly roaming across the club before settling back on Nika. “Maybe because you’re staring at her like you’re planning a murder.”

“That’s because I am planning a murder,” Nika scoffed. “Hers.” 

Paige snorted softly as Azzi’s group settled into one of the booths further across the VIP section. Azzi didn’t sit right away. She lingered near the edge of the booth, scanning the room while one of her teammates talked in her ear. Then her fingers tugged briefly under the chain at her throat, adjusting it.

Paige’s brain short-circuited for approximately half a second, gaze locked on her long, slender fingers and the way Azzi bit her lip in concentration at whatever story her teammate was telling. It seemed enthralling. 

She blamed the vodka.

“You know,” Paige said casually, finally dragging her attention back toward Nika before she got caught, “there’s only like two places around here people go after games.”

Nika looked horrified. “Are you defending her?”

“I’m just saying it’s not exactly shocking they ended up here.”

“Suprised she didn’t just stay in her hotel room cooking up another social media post. Fucking bitch.”

And, okay. Nika had a point there. The hatred might have started as a rivalry on the pitch all those years ago, but it had turned personal. The fire already burned between them, but Azzi was the one who threw the gasoline. Like a whole can of it. Maybe even two. Nika’s senior year, UCONN lost to UCLA in the national championship game, ending her season and collegiate career. Azzi, in the pure definition of pettiness, added a picture of Nika sitting on the field, knees to her chest, head in her hands, crying, to the end of her natty dump on Instagram. The picture was tagged—maybe next time. 

It got taken down shortly after she posted it, but the damage had been done. Nika was ready to board a plane to Los Angeles to rip Azzi apart, and Paige was ten toes down right behind her. Battling it out within the lines was one thing, but that had been a low blow and Paige was heated.

Paige nodded as her pulse ticked up a notch at the memory. “Yeah, that was trash, bro.”

She didn’t mention how Nika got her payback by purposely seeking out Azzi’s ex at a draft-party and posting a video of them making out on her story. That’s really where it reached the point of no return. 

“What a terrible human,” Nika slurred. “She probably has a fur coat made out of puppies.”

Paige laughed at the insinuation before taking a long sip of her drink. She flicked her gaze up to Nika, catching the way she clenched her jaw. The Croatian was clearly worked up. 

“I dunno, twin,” Paige sighed after a moment. “All that shit started in college. Maybe she grew up…” 

Nika narrowed her eyes. “Are you just saying that ‘cause she’s hot?” 

Paige leaned back against the booth cushions, very much trying to hide her amusement. 

Well.

Yeah.

Anyone with eyes could see that. 

Azzi was the kind of hot that made people walk into furniture. She probably got out of parking tickets just by smiling, and maybe even some petty crimes. Paige had spent years pretending she didn’t notice it quite as much as she did, mostly because Nika reacted to Azzi’s existence like a bull seeing red. 

Sighing, Paige let her eyes drift back across the room again, watching Azzi grin at something before finally sliding into the booth beside one of her teammates.

Then she shrugged.

“I mean,” Paige admitted easily, “she is hot.”

Nika stared at her like she’d just confessed to owning a Sophie Cunningham jersey.

“You are the weakest soldier I know.”

“Bro, all I’m saying is, aren’t you getting tired of keeping this grudge alive? Maybe she isn’t that bad if you both just gave it a chance.” 

“She tried to break my ankle like four hours ago.”

Paige winced. It didn’t seem like Nika had a penchant for forgiveness. Or even acting mature for two fucking minutes. 

“Okay, but in fairness, you almost ripped her jersey off near the sideline,” Paige argued. 

“That was tactical,” Nika countered in a bewildered tone. “She was going to break with the ball and they had numbers.” 

“That was literally almost assault, twin.”

Nika pointed accusingly at her, and Paige realized this was a lost cause. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“I am on your side.”

“You just called my nemesis hot.”

Paige grinned into her drink, letting the warm and fuzzy feeling caused by the alcohol sloshing around in her veins smooth the edges of Nika’s harsh tone. 

“Multiple things can be true at once,” Paige mumbled under her breath. 

It drew a dramatic groan from Nika. Then she dragged both hands down her face.

“She might be hot but you ever notice how she’s always single? Bet no one can deal with that fucking attitude.” 

Paige didn’t mention that Nika also had a similar attitude and was also single. Things had already spiraled far enough and she was happy to live in the land of delusion with her best friend for a bit longer. 

After a moment, Nika shot Paige a look before abruptly shoving out of the booth.

“You know what? I’m leaving before I accidentally see her flirting with somebody and have to gouge my eyes out.”

Paige’s brows lifted slightly. It was barely eleven and they both had a rare day off tomorrow. “Already?”

“Yes, already.” Nika threw back the last of her drink that she didn’t need and took a step back, swaying slightly. “Some of us have emotional wounds to recover from.”

Paige laughed, but didn’t move to follow when Nika jerked her head toward the exit expectantly.

“You coming?”

Paige shook her head. “Nah, not yet. I’m meeting some people out.”

Nika sighed in annoyance, but she didn’t push. 

“Fine,” she muttered, leaning down to dap Paige up before pulling her into a tight hug. “But if she slide tackles somebody in this club too, don’t call me. I won’t help.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Paige chucked, drawing back. “You good with your Uber?” 

Nika nodded. “Should be here in five. I’m gonna wait outside and get some fresh air. I’ll see you at brunch in the morning.” 

She shot one final, deeply offended glare across the VIP section toward Azzi’s booth before making her way toward the exit.

Paige watched Nika disappear into the crowd, then leaned back with a slow exhale, one arm curling behind her head while the other held her half-empty glass. 

After another sip, her eyes lifted across the VIP section and landed directly on Azzi.

Who was already looking at her.

Oh. 

Azzi sat tucked into the corner of the opposite booth, one arm draped along the back cushion while one of her teammates talked animatedly beside her. But Azzi wasn’t paying attention anymore. Or at least she didn’t seem to be. Her warm brown eyes were fixed straight on Paige, amusement already curling at the edges of her smile like she knew exactly what kind of trouble she’d just caused.

Paige smirked, and shook her head.

That, apparently, was enough of an invitation. Without breaking eye contact, Azzi slid out of the booth.

Oh fuck. 

Paige watched her weave through the crowded VIP section. The black jeans sat low on Azzi’s hips, exposing the upper half of her v-line. Paige tried very hard to focus on her curls instead. It wasn’t going particularly well, considering they landed softly on her collarbone and left Paige wondering what would happen if she sunk her teeth in there. 

Heart thundering against her rib cage, Paige shifted in her seat and pulled in a deep breath. 

Get it together. 

Heads turned as Azzi passed, which wasn’t surprising. The annoying part was how Azzi kept her gaze locked on Paige while she walked. Like nothing else was as important as watching Paige crack. And she was cracking. 

By the time Azzi stopped in front of the booth, Paige’s pulse was already beating way too hard despite trying to play cool. She wondered if Azzi could see it through the black collared shirt she was wearing. 

Azzi tilted her head slightly, curls brushing her bare shoulder. “You know,” she said smoothly over the music, “usually when people stare at me this hard, they at least offer to buy me a drink.”

Paige’s grin widened slowly, infinitely grateful Nika wasn’t here to witness the interaction.

“Thought about it,” she admitted, gaze dragging slowly down Azzi’s perfectly toned body before settling back on her perfectly pretty face. “But then I figured you deserved to work for it.”

Azzi’s eyebrow lifted. “Oh, is that what we’re doing tonight?”

Paige shrugged lazily, entirely too entertained by the little spark in Azzi’s eyes already. Playing indifferent certainly had its perks. “You’re in my city.”

“Oh it’s your city?” Azzi echoed.

Paige nodded once. “Yep,” she said, popping the last letter before licking her lips. She didn’t miss the way Azzi’s gaze dipped. “Last I checked we’re in Minneapolis. Means I can stare if I want to.”

Azzi laughed softly under her breath, the sound dangerous to Paige’s self-control.

“That confidence is crazy,” Azzi murmured incredulously.

Still, she stepped closer.

Paige spread her legs a bit further. It was out of habit. Not at all a reaction to the way Azzi had stepped into her space. Not at all an offering of sorts. 

“Hasn’t failed me yet,” Paige said coolly before taking a sip of her drink. 

Azzi watched, her eyes locked on the way Paige’s throat bobbed as she swallowed the cool liquid. 

“Mmm.” Azzi stepped closer, one hand reaching forward to pluck the glass from her grip. 

Paige let it go easily, watching the way Azzi’s lips wrapped around the straw, the way her cheeks hollowed as she pulled the last of the liquid into her mouth, the way her eyes twisted shut and her lips puckered as she swallowed the last sips of vodka.

“I see,” Azzi hummed, voice like velvet. She set the empty glass down on the table before leaning forward to place her hand onto the back of the booth beside Paige’s shoulder. “Does that shit work on all the girls?” 

Up close, Paige caught the faint smell of Azzi’s perfume underneath the lingering traces of sweat and expensive vodka. The effect it had on her body hit embarrassingly fast.

Azzi knew it too. It was apparent from the smug little look that settled onto her face.

“Works on the ones that matter,” Paige shot back, regaining some semblance of cool. 

That was apparently the correct answer and a coy smile tugged at Azzi’s lips as she climbed into Paige’s lap, sliding one knee onto either side of Paige’s hips. She glanced around theatrically before her soft brown eyes settled back on Paige, pupils blown wide. 

“So,” Azzi asked innocently even though they both knew she was anything but, “Nika done pouting yet?”

The club was packed. Azzi’s teammates sat fifty feet away and a who’s who of Minneapolis littered the VIP section, but Azzi didn’t seem to care. And Paige was way too many Dirty Shriely’s deep to really process anything but the beautiful woman sitting in her lap. Who could honestly blame her. Besides Nika.  

Blinded by the blissful fog in her brain and the weight of Azzi in her lap, Paige just chuckled, her hands shifting to Azzi’s waist. She stroked the skin peeking out from below the cropped top, relishing its warmth, as Azzi settled. The movement pressed them flush together, and Paige was sure now Azzi could at least feel the way her heart was racing even if she couldn’t see it.

“You’re gonna get me in trouble,” Paige muttered, though she was grinning.

Azzi looped her arms loosely around Paige’s shoulders. “You love trouble.”

Paige hummed at the truth in the statement, blue eyes dropping to Azzi’s mouth for a second before meeting her gaze again. “It does seem to have a way of finding me.”

“Funny,” Azzi murmured, fingertips drifting behind Paige’s ear before trailing down the side of her neck, where they found the collar of Paige’s shirt. She absentmindedly smoothed it flat. “I was thinking the same thing.”

She found the cross pendant resting on Paige’s chest next, adjusting it even though it hadn’t actually needed fixing. Then her palm settled flat in the valley between Paige’s breasts.

They were in the middle of a crowded club, but Paige wasn't complaining. She was too turned on to recognize the alarm bells ringing.

Seemingly emboldened by the way Paige’s heart hammered against her touch, Azzi slid her hand further, fingers grazing a taut nipple through Paige’s shirt.

Jesus Christ. 

Paige bit her lip and sucked in a deep breath. It didn’t help settle her. She wasn’t sure anything could at this moment besides a bucket of cold water. 

“You tryna get in some real trouble tonight?” Azzi asked, voice soft against her ear. The words were almost swallowed by the crowded club around them, but Paige swore they rattled around her skull louder than the bass.

Paige laughed at the implication but she couldn’t deny the way it settled low in her belly. “It is my specialty.”

“I know.”

“Yeah?” Paige’s hand slid higher along Azzi’s waist, fingers pressing in harder before beginning to stroke back and forth. Two could play this game. And despite not knowing the rules, Paige was certainly enjoying it. “That why you came all the way over here?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

Azzi shrugged one shoulder, but the smile threatening her lips gave her away. It was small but sinister.

For a second neither of them moved. 

The music pounded through the club. Lights flashed across the crowd below them and Paige suddenly felt hyperaware of every inch separating them. 

Which wasn’t much.

Some would even argue it was too much. That someone being Paige. 

“You look this good tonight just for me?” Paige asked, hopeful at the answer.

A soft laugh escaped Azzi and Paige tried to ignore the way her eyes sparkled when she tipped her head back. 

“That’s a terrible line.”

“Do I need a line?”  Paige arched a brow, a hint of challenge in her tone. “You’re the one who came over here.”

Azzi’s eyes dropped briefly to Paige’s mouth before darting back up. The movement was quick but not quick enough. Paige caught it, and apparently Azzi realized she had too because a faint blush immediately crept into her cheeks before she looked away.

“You looked lonely,” Azzi surmised, tone implying a casualness that didn’t exist.

“Lonely, huh?”

Paige smirked. They both knew it was bullshit. She could have any woman in the club if she wanted. It wasn’t lost on either of them what was happening. 

“Mhm,” Azzi hummed playfully, fingers returning to the collar of Paige’s shirt, and running along it until they found the baby hairs at the nape of her neck. “Thought you could use some company. Pretty confident I’d be better company than you’ve had all night.”

That was a direct shot at Nika. 

Paige knew it. Azzi knew it. Azzi knew Paige knew it. Paige knew Azzi knew it.

But Azzi’s legs were bracketed around Paige’s hips, one arm draped loosely across her shoulders and before Paige could defend her friend’s honor, Azzi’s fingers cinched in the hair at the base of her neck and it sent a jolt straight through Paige that settled right between her fucking legs. 

Willpower gone. Out the door. On vacation with no idea when it’d come back. 

She was fucked. 

Or at least that’s all she could think about. 

Paige’s hands had a mind of their own, sliding along the narrow strip of exposed skin beneath Azzi’s top before dipping lower to palm her ass through the soft fabric of her jeans. Azzi let out a soft moan that made Paige’s cunt throb. Somehow, she maintained enough composure to resist the urge to buck up into Azzi. 

This felt dangerous. 

Then again, most things about Azzi were.

The smile.

The confidence.

The history with Nika. 

The way she was somehow managing to make direct eye contact feel like fucking foreplay.

All of it. 

A pretty little bomb, wrapped with a bow, ready to detonate at any second. 

Azzi tilted her head slightly, studying her with a look that felt entirely too knowing.

“What?” Paige asked.

The coy smile widened because Azzi knew exactly the kind of effect she was having on Paige. The kind that had Paige thinking about what she tasted like. Tequila from her drink earlier? Maybe vodka and grenadine from the waning sips of Paige’s Dirty Shirley? 

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit.”

A soft laugh escaped Azzi and Paige felt it more than heard it.

The lights swept across the room again, briefly illuminating Azzi’s face, and the faint smudge of lip gloss near the corner of her mouth.

Without thinking, Paige reached up.

Azzi went still as Paige brushed the pad of her thumb lightly against the corner of her lips, catching the smear and dragging it away.

“There,” Paige said, voice not entirely steady.

For a second, Azzi’s eyes tracked the movement of her thumb and Paige knew she had her. It was a look she’d gotten many times over the years from various women. None as enticing as Azzi, though. It was doing wonders for Paige’s ego. 

Smirk growing, she slid her thumb back along Azzi’s bottom lip, pulling it down, but resisting the urge to push into her mouth. Then slowly, she looked back up and met Azzi’s gaze. The soft brown was gone, instead replaced by wide, dark pupils, and a hunger that was mirrored in Paige’s own eyes. 

The expression on her face made Paige’s pulse kick against her ribs. The air between them was thick with tension. She was in trouble and there was nothing she could do about it. Even if she wanted to. Which she obviously didn’t. 

“Thanks,” Azzi whispered, before using her grip on Paige’s hair to pull her in. 

The kiss landed hard enough to steal the cocky response from the tip of Paige’s tongue. 

Azzi kissed like she played soccer: aggressive, confident, a little cocky about it. Same as Paige, which left them fighting to establish dominance. Azzi’s fingers tightened into the hair at the back of Paige’s neck, nails sliding and scraping against her scalp as Paige’s hands slipped lower and groped her ass.

Azzi made a soft little sound when Paige slipped her tongue into her mouth, and Paige felt it zip straight down her spine. The club blurred around them into bass and flashing lights and distant bodies moving somewhere outside the booth. But all Paige could focus on was the way Azzi kissed her, like she was staking a claim.

After a couple minutes, maybe even more because Paige had honestly lost track, Azzi pulled back just enough to breathe, lips pink and swollen. Paige leaned forward to chase her lips but a firm hand against her chest stopped her. 

Paige whined, not caring how pathetic it sounded. She’d had a taste and now it was all she could process. Unfortunately, the striker sent her a pointed glare that deflated Paige instantly.

“I thought,” Azzi started, a slight pout tugging at her mouth, “you were gonna tell her about us tonight.”

Paige groaned, dropping her forehead briefly against Azzi’s shoulder before pulling back to meet her dark gaze.

“Bro,” Paige laughed, “you literally took both her legs out with a slide tackle. You think tonight was the night to tell her?”

“First of all, don’t call me ‘bro’,” Azzi scolded in mock offense. “Second… did you not see her drag me down by my jersey in the first half?”

Paige snorted. “You provoked her.”

“I did no such thing.” 

“So you weren’t shit talking her in Croatian?” 

Azzi grinned proudly, which was really the only answer Paige needed. “I was just trying to be inclusive.”

Paige laughed again, unable not to. “You’re right, Az,” she admitted, really just hoping to move things along so she could get her mouth back on Azzi.

God, Paige had missed her.

They’d only been apart a couple of weeks—since Paige had played the Mystics—but still.

Unfortunately, the smugness that overtook Azzi’s face was immediate.

“Oh. I’m definitely telling her you said that.”

Paige pointed a warning finger at her, wagging it slightly. “Don’t even think about it. She’ll kill me.”

Azzi grabbed it, interlacing their fingers instead, and Paige felt the resistance seep out of her pores the way it always did when she had Azzi wrapped around her.

“She loves you too much to kill you.” 

“She might actually hate you more than she loves me, though,” Paige countered. “You were supposed to chill today so I could talk to her, Az. Not rile her up even more.” 

Azzi giggled, and Paige swore that sound alone had probably taken years off her life. 

Then Azzi kissed her again. Slower this time, but also a little bit meaner. It was a kiss clearly designed to ruin Paige’s ability to think and it was fucking working. Especially when Azzi shifted in her lap, grinding down enough to make Paige’s grip tighten. A sharp breath caught in Paige’s throat and Azzi smiled against her mouth, pulling back just enough for Paige to see the mischievousness flicker in her eyes. 

“You’re evil,” Paige muttered.

“And yet, you’re going to take me back to your house and fuck me anyway.”

“Oh, am I?” Paige shot back with a cocky smirk.

It was rhetorical, laughable even, that Paige even asked the question. They both knew exactly how this evening was going to end—breathless and sated, wrapped around each other in Paige’s bed. And at some point, God willing, Azzi’s legs wrapped around Paige’s shoulders, around her head. 

Azzi pulled back and let her eyes rake over Paige. Clearly liking what she saw, she traced a finger up Paige’s arm, sending goosebumps scattering across her skin, before her long fingers wrapped around Paige’s jaw and lifted her chin so their eyes met.

“Yes. You are.”

Then Azzi’s grip on Paige’s jaw tightened. She held Paige in place, leaning forward to whisper in her ear, “Especially on if you want to see what I’m wearing underneath this.” 

Paige gulped, swallowing down the cotton in her throat. “Which one is it?” she asked hoarsely, eyes half-lidded. 

“Your favorite,” Azzi mumbled coyly into her ear, her warm breath spreading through Paige like wildfire. “The one I wore for your birthday last year.” 

Paige’s hand slipped under the waistband of Azzi’s pants, grinning with pure joy when she felt lace beneath her fingertips.

She could picture it now. Azzi in that lavender lingerie set, spread out on Paige’s bed, writhing with pleasure as Paige buried her face between her legs. It sent a flood of wetness to her already soaked boxers. 

“Mmm,” Paige hummed against Azzi’s lips. “Yeah, I think we should call an Uber soon, baby.”

Azzi rolled her hips again, slower this time, but definitely intentionally. 

“Fuck, baby,” Paige breathed against Azzi’s mouth as she lost the last functioning brain cell she had left.

All she could think about was getting her fingers in Azzi’s cunt. Or her tongue. Or her strap. Paige didn’t care, she was an equal opportunity employer. 

And Azzi? She just looked unbearably pleased with herself. She leaned back slightly, fingers tracing teasingly along the chain around Paige’s neck, a soft smile replacing the smug one.

“You know,” Azzi said gently, “you are gonna have to tell her eventually.”

Paige sighed dramatically already knowing where this was headed.

“Or I can just fuck you right here and cause enough of a scene it floods social media by morning and she can find out that way…”

Paige winced at the thought, picturing how wide Nika’s eyes would blow. And then the slew of curse words that would slip from her lips, likely trailing off in another language. Which would probably be good because at least Paige wouldn’t know how Nika was planning on killing her. Sometimes not knowing was better. 

In her defense, she had been meaning to tell Nika. For months now, actually. But every single time she tried to bring up Azzi, Nika would say something like “If Azzi Fudd has no haters left on earth it means I’m dead,” or something along those lines, and Paige would lose her nerve.

Which maybe made her a little bit of a coward. But she valued her life. So. Whatever. 

Azzi’s fingers slid to Paige’s chain, tugging lightly to pull her back to reality. “Paige.”

She was serious now, the playful banter dissipating and Paige knew why. 

“I’ll tell her, Az,” Paige promised, kissing along Azzi’s jaw before she could keep arguing. “I swear I’ll tell Nika soon.”

The attempt at distraction worked. Azzi giggled quietly when Paige’s mouth brushed her neck, settling her weight back down and titling her neck to give Paige more room to work.

“You’ll fucking tell me what soon?”

The blood drained from Paige’s face so fast, chilling in her veins and freezing her in place. 

One second Azzi was giggling as Paige kissed along her neck, warm and smug and entirely too comfortable in her lap, and the next Paige was staring over her shoulder at Nika standing beside the booth with wide eyes and her forgotten leather jacket dangling limply from one hand.

For one spectacular moment, nobody spoke.

Paige could only hope Nika permanently lost the ability to speak as her brain scrambled uselessly for literally anything helpful to say. It was to no avail. Every possible sentence immediately sounded incriminating. 

On top of her, Azzi had gone still too, though not nearly with the same level of panic. Probably not with any panic at all. Paige could practically feel the amusement simmering under her skin.

Of course she was entertained. It was yet another win to hold over Nika’s head. And Azzi wasn’t the one about to be murdered by her best friend. Although if Paige got murdered, Azzi’s chances of multiple orgasms that evening dropped significantly. So really, it wasn’t a great situation for either of them.

Then Azzi, because apparently self-preservation meant absolutely nothing to her, tilted her head slightly and looked up at Nika with a soft, innocent expression that would’ve been believable if Paige hadn’t witnessed the decade-long feud between them firsthand. 

“Sup Mühl,” Azzi said way too fucking casually. 

Nika looked physically unwell. Behind the bewilderment, Paige knew rage was simmering. A deep seeded, festering rage. 

Paige opened her mouth instinctively. “Nika—”

“No,” Nika cut in immediately, pointing at Paige without taking her fiery gaze off Azzi. “Absolutely not. Don’t even speak right now, P.”

Paige sank deeper into the booth cushions, wishing the couch could swallow her whole. 

Nika’s wide-eyed gaze bounced between them, visibly trying to process the image in front of her. Paige knew exactly how bad it looked. Azzi was fully straddling Paige’s lap, Paige’s hand still rested beneath the waistband of her jeans, both of them flushed and disheveled enough that there was absolutely no chance of talking their way out of this. 

Nada. Zero. Zilch. 

Nika drew in a deep breath, held it a few seconds, and then released it. She suddenly looked entirely too calm. It was unsettling. 

Finally, she met Paige’s gaze.

“You,” Nika said slowly to Paige, like each word physically pained her, “are making out with my opp.”

Azzi snorted from Paige’s lap, moving her hands from Paige’s neck to rest gently on her shoulders. “Opp is crazy, Nika.”

“Was I fucking talking to you, Fudd?” 

Apparently Azzi didn’t take too keenly to the finger Nika was pointing in her face because she laughed. It was low and cold, a sound Paige had never heard but that made her chest cinch. This might be the worst possible position Paige had ever been in. And she’d found herself in some cataclysmic ones over the years. 

“Still pissed you lost, Muhl?” 

Nika’s eyes grew impossibly wider and Paige really really wished she had the power of invisibility and could nope herself right the fuck out of there. Even missing out on the chance to fuck Azzi would be better than having to sit through a scolding from Nika when her hands were still down Azzi’s pants. 

Oh shit. 

That certainly wasn’t helping the matter. 

Paige quickly withdrew her hands, not missing the way Nika’s gaze flicked down and cataloged the movement. Luckily, she seemed to be more interested in the bait Azzi was dangling in front of her. 

“You literally slide tackled me into another dimension tonight.”

“Okay, that’s a bit dramatic. I got the ball.”

“You got a yellow card!”

“And yet,” Azzi replied smugly, “we still won.”

The strangled sound that left Nika’s throat nearly made Paige laugh. Nearly. Despite the fluidity of her body from the alcohol and its longing for Azzi, it seemed her body also remembered Nika could probably snap her neck before she even saw it coming. 

Unfortunately, Nika’s brain was working faster now, piecing together details Paige really wished she wouldn’t piece together. Paige watched the exact moment her eyes dropped to the way Paige’s thumb was absentmindedly rubbing against Azzi’s side. Then Nika clocked how naturally Azzi was tucked against her chest, how comfortable they looked together, how neither of them seemed remotely awkward.

And then came the look. The one Paige recognized instantly. One she knew all too well. 

Absolute horror.

“Oh my god,” Nika whispered, eyes widening further as she moved her finger between the two in shock. “How long?”

Nobody answered fast enough. Which was apparently answer enough.

In Paige’s defense, she simply could not bring herself to say years. The words were right there on the tip of her tongue, but they were stuck. Call it self-preservation. 

“Paige!”

“Okay,” Paige started carefully, because she suddenly felt like she was diffusing a bomb with her bare hands. Honestly, that might be a more relaxing experience than the one she was currently embroiled in. “Before you react—”

“Before I react?” Nika repeated incredulously. “How long have you been fucking Azzi Fudd behind my back?”

The way she said Azzi’s name with so much disdain felt like a knife to the chest. A couple people at a nearby table glanced over briefly, curious at the sudden yelling.

Paige lowered her voice. “Can you maybe not announce that to the entire club?”

Nika ignored her completely, still staring like she was debating if her entire friendship with Paige had been a lie. “How long?”

Paige hesitated. Which, again, was apparently a mistake because it gave Azzi a chance to open her fucking mouth. A beautiful mouth, but a problem for Paige nonetheless. 

Azzi turned, leaning comfortably against Paige’s chest and looking entirely too pleased with herself.

“Why don’t you have a seat, Nika,” Azzi said, inviting her to the couch across from them with a flick of her wrist. In the VIP booth that Nika had booked and paid for that evening. “Grab a drink and we can all talk like adults. For once.” 

Nika looked like she might actually combust. Honestly, at this point, Paige genuinely couldn’t tell whether Nika wanted to scream or cry. Probably both and maybe the thoughts were just so conflicting it was making her brain short circuit, which was why Paige and Azzi were still alive. 

Paige finally let out a helpless laugh, rubbing a hand down her face. “Okay, baby, you are not helping.”

Silence followed. Nika blinked once, then again, much slower this time. Finally, she closed her eyes and let out a deep sigh before looking back at Paige. 

“Baby?”

Ah.

Right.

That sounded bad.

Nika had been around long enough to know Paige didn’t do pet names. At least not with random hookups. The only time she’d used any sort of term of endearment in front of Nika had been in college, when she’d dated Brooke for a couple of years.

Azzi, meanwhile, looked absolutely delighted. Chuffed, if you will. She shifted slightly in Paige’s lap, practically radiating smug satisfaction while Paige mentally drafted her own obituary. The only thing worse than Paige fucking Azzi Fudd, would be actually liking Azzi Fudd.

“Are you… like not just fucking?” Nika asked carefully, like she was scared of the answer. “Like… are you… dating?” 

By now the outrage had softened into confusion. The question hit differently than Paige expected. Suddenly the issue wasn’t just the hooking up or the secrecy or even the rivalry. It was the fact that this might be something serious. Something that mattered. 

Paige felt Azzi glance at her briefly before she answered.

“Kinda?” Paige said cautiously.

Azzi immediately scoffed, looking offended. “Kinda?”

In all of the romcoms Paige had watched over the years—which was a lot because Nika fucking loved them—none had prepared her for being trapped between her best friend and girlfriend. There was no winning. And literally, Paige’s favorite thing to do was win. 

She blew out a shaky breath, remembering the night a few months ago when she had nervously confessed to Azzi that she wanted to be exclusive. 

It certainly hadn’t started out that way. They’d met two years ago at an ESPY party. Paige beat Azzi for Best Championship Performance and had sauntered over to her at the bar, wearing a custom Louis Vuitton suit and a smug little grin. Her intention was to gloat, to rub it in a little bit so she could tell Nika all about it.

And she had gloated and she had rubbed it in, and the interaction had confirmed that Azzi Fudd was the terrible little shit she and Nika always thought she was. But Azzi Fudd was also hot, and Paige apparently liked it when a woman was mean to her, because suddenly she was eating Azzi out in the back of a limo, and they were hate fucking in Paige’s hotel room, and she’d woken up in the morning with Azzi’s head between her legs already halfway to an orgasm. 

She thought that was that. It was easy enough to chalk up to a drunken night where two people that hated each other fucked. Until she got a “You in my city?” text from Azzi a few months later when the Lynx were in DC playing the Mystics. Followed by an address. 

Paige had debated whether or not to go. She wasn’t sure she wanted to see Azzi, sober at least. And she also wasn’t entirely convinced Azzi hadn’t sent directions to a crack house. But then she remembered how Azzi tasted. How she felt writhing underneath her. How she sounded—so breathless and needy and whiny—when she came. And Paige figured one more time wouldn’t hurt. 

The next time, Paige happened to be staying in the same hotel as Azzi at New York Fashion Week. A month later it was a Nike event in Los Angeles. Two weeks after that, Azzi was in Minneapolis for a game. 

Every time was more of the same. They’d fuck and then one of them would leave. Part of Paige did feel guilty keeping it from Nika, but it was a small part. There was really nothing to tell. No feelings involved. Just two people who didn’t particularly like each other, doling out mind blowing orgasms.

Except, it didn’t stay that way. Somewhere along the way, it stopped being about hate fucking, and just became fucking. Then it became more than fucking, and Paige knew Nika would implode but she was honestly already in too deep.

And as much as Paige knew it was risking life and limb to admit to Nika, this was serious. It did matter. 

“Okay, yes, we’re dating.”

Nika stared at both of them like she was trying to keep herself rooted in place, hands shoved in her pockets because if she stepped forward there was no telling what she’d do with them. 

“When did this start?” she asked weakly.

Paige grimaced. Unfortunately for her, Azzi looked thrilled by the question.

“When did we start fucking?” Azzi asked sweetly. “Or when did we actually start dating?”

Nika’s soul visibly exited her body.

Paige grabbed Azzi’s thigh, giving it a firm squeeze. “Okay, chill,” she warned, though not unkindly. “You did not need to say it like that.”

Nika dropped heavily onto the edge of the booth beside them like her knees stopped functioning altogether.

“I hate both of you.”

Azzi leaned slightly toward Nika, curls slipping over one shoulder. “To be fair, you hated me before this too.”

“That’s true,” Nika grumbled immediately before grabbing the almost empty bottle of tequila from the bucket of melted ice and taking a big swig.

Then she pointed the bottle accusingly at Paige. “But your girlfriend being so fucking smug right now is making this significantly worse.”

Azzi grinned wider. “I’m trying really hard to be normal actually.”

“Shut up, Fudd.”

That finally broke Paige. She laughed hard enough her shoulders shook, because the entire situation had become so catastrophically stupid that there was nothing else to do anymore.

Nika looked at her like she’d lost her mind. “You’re laughing right now?” 

Paige’s heart rate had ticked down a few notches now that it seemed Nika wasn’t planning on killing either of them. At least for the moment. Maybe she did love Paige more than she hated Azzi. 

“I never planned for this to happen, Nika,” Paige said exasperatedly, before blowing out a deep sigh. “I’m sorry for keeping it from you. Whatever you want to know I’ll tell you.”

Nika rubbed both hands over her face before groaning toward the ceiling. She opened her mouth, then closed it and shook her head. 

“You know what?” she huffed. “I’m too drunk for this shit.”

Paige bit the inside of her cheek to stop smiling. Nika stood again, grabbing her jacket before pointing firmly at both of them.

“I’ll see you at brunch tomorrow.” Then, more aggressively, she added, “Both of you.”

Azzi saluted lazily from Paige’s lap. “Can’t wait.”

Nika made it approximately two steps before whipping around one final time.

“And by the way,” she snapped, pointing directly at Azzi now, “that was a shit tackle and you know it, Fudd.”

Azzi looked deeply unrepentant and Nika’s eyes immediately cut toward Paige.

“Tell her it was a shit tackle, Paige.”

Paige inhaled slowly because this, right here, was the actual trap. She could already feel Azzi watching her, waiting to see which side she’d pick. Her heart slammed against her ribcage and she honestly wished it’d break free. At least then they’d have to call an ambulance and she wouldn’t have to answer, right? Although the two of them would probably start arguing about who got to ride in it with Paige to the hospital and she could only imagine how that would go... 

“Nika, I—”

Azzi grabbed Paige’s jaw before she could finish, kissing her hard enough to completely derail the sentence. Paige laughed against her mouth, one arm tightening around Azzi’s waist automatically as Nika let out the most exhausted groan Paige had ever heard in her life.

“See you tomorrow, Nika,” Azzi hummed against Paige’s lips, waving her hand dismissively. 

“My best friend,” Nika muttered while walking away, “is fucking my opp.”

Paige didn’t have it in her to fight, instead grabbing Azzi’s hips and pulling her in closer.

She probably should’ve felt more concerned about the impending doom waiting for her at brunch. There was a very real chance Nika would spend the rest of the night drafting a list of crimes she’d like to commit against both of them.

Azzi sighed, scraping her omelet around her plate. They were out to breakfast (Azzi’s treat as an attempt to apologize) and Azzi felt like the biggest piece of shit in all of New York City (maybe besides West Wilson and Amanda Batula - but that was besides the point). “I’m really sorry, Liv. What can I do to make it up to you?”

“First off, you can drive us to mom and dad’s for the party next month.” When Azzi opened her mouth to interject, considering she’d rather do just about anything else, Liv raised a hand, “Nope, end of discussion. Don’t even try fighting me on this one.”

“Yeah, okay.” Azzi conceded, making a note to get gas at some point before they left. She rarely drove that car unless it was to go visit her parents or to go down the shore or something. 

“Second,” Olivia continued, setting her mug down with a soft clink, “you’re going to promise me you’ll get along with Paige. At least leading up to the wedding, after the fact, I don’t really care. That’s not my business.”

Knowing that was damn near impossible, Azzi once again considered putting up a fight, but she knew she could suck it up for the sake of her sister. Besides, her and Paige made a pact to avoid each other the night of anyway, whenever that would end up being down the road, so it didn’t matter in the long run. “I can do that.”

Their waitress approached the table a few minutes later, “Can I get y’all anything else?”

Azzi smiled up at the woman, “Just the check - -”

“Actually,” Olivia cut in, eyes focused on her sister from across the table. “Can I please get a pint of tuna fish to-go?”

“Sure, is that all?”

“Throw in a pint of chicken salad, too. Thank you so much.”

“You’re such an asshole.” Azzi grumbled after their waitress left, “First I’m paying for food you don’t even like and now I’m bouta drop a bag on gas for your party.”

“You’re the reason I don’t have any pictures of my fiance proposing to me, and you’re going to fight me right now?” 

That shut Azzi up real quick.

——

The month following the night of the engagement had a different feeling to it. Once she wrapped her mind around the fact that her sister was actually getting married, Azzi couldn’t stop thinking about it. 

She had already received at least twenty reels from Olivia with ideas for the wedding. They spent that first few weeks planning the engagement party, in which their mother enthusiastically offered their backyard as the venue. 

Like the good sister she was, Azzi scheduled her lift for six o'clock sharp the morning of the party. It meant waking up at an ungodly hour, but it also meant she'd have enough time afterward to shower, get herself together, and pick up Olivia and Jared without being rushed.

By the time she made it into the locker room after lift, she only had a few minutes to spare before the Liberty’s regularly scheduled practice started.

"Damn, Azzi! Looking good!" Natasha whistled from across the room.

Azzi rolled her eyes, knowing damn well she looked rough post workout, all sweaty and puffy. Then she caught Natasha gesturing toward her hair and remembered the blowout she'd spent entirely too much money on the night before. Her loose waves had been pulled into a ponytail for lift, and she'd secured a thick headband across her forehead to keep sweat away from her hairline.

"Thanks, Tash." Azzi dropped onto the bench in front of her locker and bent down to swap her slides for sneakers. "It's the big day later, so I had to look decent, y'know."

"The actual wedding isn't gonna be in Jersey, right?" Sabrina called from the neighboring locker. "Because I love your family, but I don't know if I love them enough for that drive."

Azzi nudged Sabrina’s leg with the tip of her sneaker,  “Actually I think it’s gonna be a destination wedding, last I heard.”

An invitation to the engagement party had been extended to the entire team, with Olivia’s permission of course. Ever since she arrived in New York the season prior, her sister had become extremely close with most of Azzi’s teammates (mainly due to the constant baked goods she brought by both the practice facility and Barclay’s itself from her bakery). 

“Ooo she should so get married in Paris.” Sabrina practically went bug eyed at the thought. “That’s where I wanted to go, but we didn’t have the funds for it.” 

Azzi laughed, shaking her head as the three women stood and started making their way back toward the hallway that led to the gym. She waited a second before glancing over at Natasha, who was already looking at her with an unreadable expression. “Um, you good?”

“Oh, I’m great.” Natasha looked away, now moving to fidget with the straw of her water bottle. “So is Jared’s family all coming in for this?” 

Knowing exactly where the conversation was headed, Azzi decided to keep her answer as vague as possible. "Some of them, yeah."

“Does that include a certain six foot blonde that you can’t stand?” 

“Way to be subtle, Tash.” Sabrina elbowed her in the side.

“What? I’m just askin’ a question!” 

"I'm not talking about this with you." Azzi shot back. "Don't trust that you're not gonna go say anything to her."

"Bro, I'm not."

"You absolutely are."

"I'm absolutely not." Natasha repeated Azzi’s words, throwing her hands up in surrender. "P might be my girl, but you're my sister. Hope you know that."

Truth be told Azzi did know that, she felt like Natasha had her back from the moment she got traded to New York. Still, having one of Paige's good friends also become one of her good friends made things complicated sometimes. She never really knew what she should and shouldn’t say in front of the older woman. 

Azzi nodded solemnly, “I know, I just don’t like talking about it in general.” 

Sabrina, like the angel she was, opened the door to the gym with a dramatic shove. “What we should be talking about is who Azzi’s taking to the wedding as her date.” 

“Okay that’s way down the line. We’ve got time.” Azzi caught the ball Sabrina tossed to her, resting it on her hip. “Who’s to say I won’t be dating someone by then?”

“Me.” Natasha slapped the ball off her hip, causing it to roll across the gym floor. “I do.” 

Azzi scoffed, calling over her shoulder as she chased down the loose ball, “You’re about to end up on my list, asshole!” 

“I’m going based on your track record!”

—---

If Azzi had reservations about driving from Brooklyn to Manhattan, you can imagine what her thought process was regarding making the trip to her parents house in Jersey of all places. Normally she convinced her sister to do the drive, and Olivia usually caved as she really was a much better driver than Azzi, but the younger Fudd was on ‘thin fucking ice’ after the dibacle that was the engagement.

She arrived at Olivia’s apartment a little after eight in the morning, tasked with driving both her and Jared to Jersey. Naturally, Olivia didn’t lift a finger, exiting her apartment building with Jared carrying four different bags and a the dress she was wearing on a plastic covered hanger. 

Azzi helped the poor guy, opening the trunk for him, “The hell is all this for? We’re only staying one night.”

Jared, checking that Olivia was secure in the car first, shook his head with a grumble. “Tell me about it. I didn’t ask any questions, though.”

Azzi just laughed, closing the trunk door when he was done and returning to the driver's seat. “Your coffee’s back there, Jared.” Azzi called into the backseat. 

“Thanks, you’re a saint.” 

Thankfully, Olivia only mentioned the lack of engagement pictures twice on the hour-long car ride, which was certainly less than Azzi was anticipating. They arrived at her parents house with a car full of decorations that Olivia had spent the last few weeks gathering, but even if she hadn’t, the house looked beautiful.

Clearly, their mother was prepared, and Azzi’s jaw literally dropped when she took in the backyard. There were circular tables covered in crisp white linens scattered across one section of the yard, each topped with simple floral arrangements and flickering candles. A makeshift bar sat near the fence, stocked and ready for the bartender they had hired, while strings of warm lights stretched overhead despite the fact that the sun hadn’t even started setting yet.

The patio beside the pool had its usual furniture decorated to the max. White and gold balloons were tied to nearly every available surface, fresh flowers lined the railing, and a large framed sign rested on an easel near the entrance. It featured a black-and-white photo of Olivia and Jared as little kids, both grinning at the camera, with elegant script above them that read:

These kids are engaged! And beneath the photo, in smaller lettering: Jared & Olivia.

“Oh my God,” Azzi breathed, turning slowly in a circle. “Mom went insane.”

“In the best way possible,” Olivia corrected, though Azzi could hear the emotion creeping into her sister’s voice.

Before either of them could say anything else, the back door flew open. “There are my girls!”

Their mother practically sprinted down the patio steps, arms already spread wide. Olivia barely had enough time to set her purse down before being pulled into a hug. “The bride to be!”

“Mom, you just saw me at Az’s game!” Olivia giggled, letting out an ‘oof’ when the hug made her stumble backwards a step.

Their father was not far behind, pulling Azzi into a hug when he reached her. “She already had a glass if you couldn’t tell.” He called toward them, then he lowered his voice as he kissed the top of Azzi’s head. “Hi, sweetheart.”

“Hey Dad.” She beamed up at him. 

Her father looked around the yard for a second, before whispering to Azzi, “Where’s the bum?”

‘The bum’ in question would be Jared, who was tasked with making a last minute trip to the liquor store. Azzi rolled her eyes, biting back a laugh. “Dad! You have to be nice tonight, it’s their party.”

“I’m not being nice until after the wedding.” He responded, face dead serious. Then, in typical Tim Fudd fashion, he moved on within seconds, face lighting up again as he asked, “Want me to make you a drink?”

The rest of the afternoon was spent getting ready for guests to arrive. Azzi, having her hair pre-blown out, only had to do light makeup and put on her dress. It was a long lavender colored sundress, one she had just bought for the occasion. She was in the process of putting on her strappy white heels when a knock sounded at her door, “Can I come in?”

“Yup!” Azzi called, still struggling to get the buckle around her ankle. When she looked up, she saw her sister standing in the doorway, wearing a satin halter-style white dress, the hem resting on her upper thigh. “Wow, Liv. You look so pretty.”

“Thank you.” She smiled back brightly. 

Azzi had always admired her sister’s smile. It was one of her favorite things about Olivia. In fact, it was the reason she knew that Jared was really Olivia’s soulmate. One - - because she smiled that full, bright smile more around Jared than maybe anyone else ever. 

Two - - because of a night that took place a few years back.

Azzi had been visiting Liv at Uconn a little more than a week before she and Jared were graduating. They had been at Ted’s, and Azzi had been having a shitty night, so she excused herself out back to have a smoke.

Jared found her a few minutes later, and instead of pressuring her to talk about what was wrong, he talked about pretty much the only thing he ever did; Olivia. “I swear ‘m gonna marry your sister. And soon.”

Azzi laughed, though she fully believed him. She took the cigarette right from his fingers, ignoring his disgruntled reaction to her doing so. “Hmm, I still don’t know if you’ve won over my approval yet.”

“That’s fair, I certainly haven’t won over your dad yet, so.”

They both laughed at that, because unfortunately he was correct, Tim Fudd was not a fan of Jared. It didn’t necessarily have to do with him himself, but rather the fact that Tim didn’t think anyone was good enough for either of his daughters. 

Azzi decided to test him, to see if he really deserved the incredible person that Olivia was. “Okay, say you were proposing tomorrow and asking for my permission. What would you say?”

“Um,” He started, his mouth twisting as he got lost in thought. After a moment, he smiled, putting the shrimpled cigarette out against the sidewalk. “I’d say that I probably don’t deserve Liv, but I’m gonna do my best to be everything she needs.” He paused for a second, looking back over at Azzi. “Then I’d tell you that I’ve been a sucker for her smile since the second I saw it first, and I’d probably die if I went the rest of my life never seeing it again. Because God doesn’t give out smiles like that to just anyone. That’s how I know her heart is gold.”

“Can you help me with the zipper?” Olivia gestured to the back of her dress, snapping Azzi out of her memory.

“Yeah, if you can help me with these stupid heels.”

——-

Azzi knew throughout the wedding process she would end up seeing people she didn’t want to. Family members that annoyed her, hometown ‘friends’ that are only interested in her amount of followers or stints in the press. 

Or, possibly at the top of her list, Paige fucking Bueckers. She wanted to go back in time and slap herself from a month ago, wanted to tell her she’s a dumbass and that of course Paige would be at the engagement party for her literal brother. 

But, God must be on her side of something, because less than an hour before the guests were set to arrive, Jared came back from the liquor store with a solemn look on his face. “Paige can’t make it. Her game went into overtime so she missed her flight.” 

Azzi had been periodically checking the score of the Sparks game against the Mystics, even taking note of Paige’s performance (last she checked the shooting guard had 24 points and the fourth quarter hadn’t even started yet.) (No, she didn’t actually care, she simply took note when one of the announcers mentioned the stat. Obviously.) 

Olivia gave Azzi a look as she walked past her, “Could you at least try and act like you’re not thrilled about this?”

The thing was, Azzi wasn’t over the moon the way she thought she would be. As much as fighting with Paige drove her insane, she had been slightly (like the smallest bit) looking forward to giving her shit about their respective teams playing each other the following week. 

She even prepared a couple lines about how much shit her fans (God bless New York) would give Paige, considering their distaste for one another had now gained new traction after Olivia and Jared announced their engagement. 

Page Six Exclusive: Wedding Bells and Bad Blood? Paige Bueckers and Azzi Fudd's families are officially merging - - but sources say the stars can't stand each other.

Read the full story here: 🔗 

→ @lasparksssbeliever guys you need to read this… cuz this is the most wnba thing i’ve ever heard

         → @wbbfan420: not paige and azzi having to attend the same engagement party, bridal shower, bachelorette, rehearsal dinner AND wedding 💀

→ @libertyornowhere someone better leak all the wedding footage to deuxmoi

→ @diehard97 what i would give to be a fly on the wall for this…

→ @wnbagirlie why don’t they get along again?

      → @allthingsssbball: i think people are making this a bigger deal than it is. sure they have a basketball rivalry, but who’s to say they don’t get along irl? 

                →  @wbbfan420: there’s a whole reddit post about this, you should go read it. unfortunately they def hate each other lol.                      

                → @wnbagirlie: wait can you post the link???

And, being preoccupied by Paige would have distracted her from the amount of people she didn’t have any desire to socialize with from Olivia’s guest list. Whatever, she’d survive, and at the end of the day it was a relief not to have Paige’s dumb presence bothering her all night. 

Janelle, Olivia’s best friend from college, and her boyfriend were the first to arrive. Azzi had been helping her mother set up one of the charcuterie boards in the backyard when she felt a tug on her hair, “Boo!”

Azzi jumped, nearly dropping the sleeve of crackers she was about to open. “Dude, you scared me Jay.” 

Janelle just laughed, pulling her in a hug. “Sorry, it was an accident.”

“It so was not.”

“Yeah, it really wasn’t.”

They both giggled, and another small wave of emotion took over Azzi. She’d been feeling that way a lot since Olivia got engaged, and it certainly hadn’t helped when she'd come across a tik tok of a woman giving her maid of honor speech to her sister. At one point, the woman had looked at the groom and said, I hope you love growing old with her the way I loved growing up with her.

Azzi quite literally bawled like a baby at that, once again reminded that they were getting so fucking old. Seeing Janelle, someone who brings out the best in Liv (which was evident each time Azzi went to visit her sister at UConn during the offseason) was another reminder of how much had changed in the past few years. How much was going to continue to change. 

“She ask you to be maid of honor yet?” Janelle asked a few minutes after they started catching up.

Azzi, preoccupied with perfecting the spread she was laying out on the table, shook her head. “Not officially, no.” Truthfully, she had known since she was probably five years old that they were going to be one another’s maid of honor, but they hadn’t had a proper sit down about it yet. When another thought emerged in her head, Azzi looked around the backyard, then back at Janelle. “Where’s the new boyfriend? I wanna meet, uh, what’s his name.” 

“His name is Ben, you bitch. And you did meet him, remember? He was at the bar the night Liv got engaged, silly.”

Oh, right. That doomed night where she tried to make peace with Paige, and when that inevitably backfired, she got so fucked up that she almost didn’t make it to practice the next morning. She was lucky Sabrina used the luxury of having Azzi’s spare key to let herself in and drag a hungover Azzi, who forgot to set an alarm the night prior, out of bed. 

Azzi shuddered at the memory, “Yeah, I don’t remember too much of that night if I’m being honest.”

Janelle laughed, “Okay, well he’s taking the train straight from work, so he won’t be here ‘til a little later. I’ll reintroduce you two.” 

More friends and family started to trickle into the backyard not long after. Azzi, despite having so many family members show up to her games in countless cities over the years, was always shocked out how many of them would drop everything for her and Olivia. The sheer number that flew in for the engagement party was heartwarming, especially since most of them didn’t really live in the area.

Her parents bought this house in Jersey when she was drafted to New York, following her across the country. They retired a little more than two years ago, spending most of their time exploring the cities that Azzi had games in. Eventually, though, they grew tired of what they called city life. They bought a home just outside the city instead, taking the train in for home games and occasionally staying at a hotel when the Liberty had back-to-backs.

Reuniting with everyone was nice, but Azzi’s small social battery ran out quickly. She excused herself inside, needing a break from the backyard that was becoming more and more crowded by the minute.

She decided to hide out in her parents' kitchen, perched on one of the chairs at the island, nursing her drink and watching the party through the window above the sink. She didn’t think she’d have to worry about anyone coming inside, given that no one was supposed to be with her grandfather guarding the back door. 

Until, a voice sounded from behind her,  “Long time no see.” 

Azzi’s spine straightened in her seat, not needing to turn around to know who it was. “Why’re you in here?” 

Tyler, her high school ex boyfriend, pulled out the stool beside her, sitting casually. “Couldn’t find you out there, figured you were hiding in here somewhere. Probably from me.”

Azzi, refusing to look at him, kept her gaze locked on the party going on in the backyard. She watched as Olivia and Jared danced together underneath the massive tent, and some of her hostility lessened. Seeing people she loved in love always did that to her. “‘m not hiding from you. I didn’t even know you were here.” 

“And now that you know?” 

Azzi scoffed, “We’re fine, Tyler. We have been for a long time. I jus’ needed a break from everything out there.” She finally turned her head to look at her ex-boyfriend, shifting in her seat and playing it off like she was about to get up. He looked good, older in the years since they last saw each other. 

He stood too, outstretching his hand as an offering. “I can keep you company, darling.” 

Here she was, harshly reminded of the reason she broke up with Tyler in the first place. He didn’t evoke any feelings out of her. He didn’t make her hot, she didn’t want him like that. Sometimes she worried that her expectations for a partner, someone that would make her burn with passion, were too far fetched. She considered making a pact with herself that by the time she was thirty if she still never felt that way, she’d find someone nice enough and settle. 

Someone like Tyler, who, if she were being honest, she had a tendency to string along as a backup plan. “Keep me company outside, then. They’re ‘sposed to give a speech soon.” 

Sure enough, Tyler trailed behind her like a lost puppy. Azzi led them through the sliding glass doors and down the deck stairs, weaving between guests as they made their way back into the party. “Jared’s a good guy,” Tyler commented, helping himself to one of the charcuterie boards. “Met him when I got here earlier.”

Azzi hummed in agreement. “He’s a saint for putting up with Liv, is all I have to say.”

Tyler laughed at that, “Remember when she made you feed her while she drove us to school that time you almost made us late?”

“Well I was only late ‘cause I was being a good sister and helping her study late the night before.” Azzi laughed at the memory. Her sister had grown plenty since high school, but she still had her moments where she would make Azzi do something insane like that (okay maybe not as insane, but it still happened on some levels.) 

Beneath the tent on the other side of the yard, Olivia and Jared stood next to the dj booth, clinking their glasses to get the parties attention. Jared had the mic in his hand, starting with, “I won’t take too much of your time, ‘specially since I know you’re all anxiously awaiting the cake Liv hasn’t shut up about.”

“The bakery was on cake wars!” Olivia added, her voice faint since she wasn’t speaking into the microphone. The partygoers laughed, and even though Azzi was tired of hearing about this stupid cake, she did in fact know how damn excited her sister was for it. 

Jared smiled down at her before continuing, “And we want to say the biggest ‘thank you’ to Mr. and Mrs. Fudd for letting us use their beautiful home for tonight.” 

Olivia leaned over, "Although I think this might be one of the best days of my dad’s life, who for anyone that doesn’t know, his favorite movie is ‘father of the bride.’”

Azzi laughed to herself at her sister's words, but as she turned to grab herself another drink, she stilled when she noticed a car pulling up beside the house. 

Who the hell is showing up almost two hours late? Azzi thought to herself, eyes squinting as she looked to see who was getting out of the backseat. 

“Oh you’ve gotta be fucking with me.” She said, more to herself than anything.

“What is it?” Tyler asked.

“Nothing, I jus’ have to deal with something real quick. Can you hold this for me?” Azzi asked, handing over her glass to Tyler and not really waiting for a response. 

She pushed open the latch to the white picket fence and slipped through, letting it click shut behind her. Her heels smacked against the pavement as she speed-walked up the driveway, moving about as fast as her sundress would allow.

“I thought you missed your flight.” 

Paige’s head shot up as she closed the back door to her uber. She had one hand wrapped around the handle of a rolling suitcase and the other holding what looked like a garment bag protected by clear plastic. A few loose strands of blonde hair had escaped whatever rushed attempt she'd made to tame it, and there were faint shadows beneath her eyes. (The first thing Azzi thought before any of that was how the blue crewneck she was wearing brought out her eyes in an almost breathtaking way. No, she did not admit this to herself).

“You really never just say ‘hello’, do you?” 

Azzi crossed her arms with a huff. “Answer my question.”

“You didn’t ask me a question.”

“What?” 

“You said, and I quote, ‘I thought you missed your flight.’ That ain’t a question.”

Azzi scoffed, trying to fight off a blush from the embarrassment churning in her stomach. She was never off in their banter, or at least she usually started off much stronger than that. “Whatever. How’re you here?”

Paige adjusted her grip on the suitcase handle, looking way too amused for someone who had supposedly spent the entire day stranded in airports. “Found a way to fly private.” 

“That’s terrible for the environment, you know.” 

“I know, I usually don’t.” Paige shrugged, looking toward the house. “But I wanted to be here.” 

“Why?” she shot back quickly. “So you could make a grand entrance and take the attention off Liv and Jared?” 

Paige smirked, her mouth turning to the side in a way that was so smug Azzi wanted to force it right off of her. “I usually don’t need to make a grand entrance to get people’s attention, Fudd. Y’know that.”

Azzi, still standing at the top of her driveway across from the blonde, took another step forward. “They’re in the middle of making a speech now. At least have the decency to wait until it’s done before this entire night becomes about you.”

Azzi felt like an asshole as soon as she said those words, especially after Paige’s smirk turned into something of a wounded bird or puppy or something. She knew Paige wasn’t like that. She was a lot of things, and she might have thrived off attention, but she didn’t seek it. Azzi knew her well enough to know that.

Plus, she clearly still had to get changed and settle in. Azzi didn’t know why she went for the jugular so quickly, but she didn’t have time to focus on that anyway. “The front doors unlocked. Stay inside ‘til they’re done at least.” 

She spun back on her heels before Paige could respond, holding her dress in her hands so as not to trip going downhill. 

Right as she closed the fence again, Olivia and Jared wrapped up their speech, the dj starting to play music again. Her mother noticed her at the edge of the lawn, walking over to her with a slightly puzzled look on her face. “Where were you? Is everything okay?”

“Fine. Paige is here.” She tried to force a smile, but the monotone of her voice was definitely doing nothing to hide her disdain. 

“Oh good, she was aiming for around eight, so this is actually a little early.”

Azzi stopped short, confusion flooding her features. “You knew she was coming?”

Her mother nodded. “Yes, she called a couple hours ago to make sure it was still okay for her to stay the night.”

Azzi swallowed thickly to hide how much she was not looking forward to sleeping under the same roof as Paige. But the last thing she needed was to ruin another wedding event by doing something stupid like that, so she simply offered a tight lipped smile. “That was nice of her.” 

“It really was. Jared comes from such a sweet family.”

Sweet was probably the dead last adjective she would use to describe Paige, but she kept that one to herself too. 

She made eye contact with Tyler, who was stuck talking to Azzi’s blabber-mouthed Aunt Pat. She scanned the rest of the party, not really looking to socialize with her ex boyfriend any longer, when she found Olivia talking in a hushed tone with Jared. She made her way toward them, offering a supportive smile, “Everything okay?”

Olivia nodded, taking a long sip from her drink first. She handed the empty cup over to Jared once she was done, “Can I actually talk to you real quick?”

“Sure. Did you wanna go inside?”

“Yes please.” 

The sisters crossed the backyard, with Olivia gripping onto Azzi’s left arm for support. The much shorter girl was sporting one of the highest pairs of heels Azzi had ever seen her wear before. That coupled with the state of drunkenness she was bordering on meant she desperately needed the help to walk on the uneven grass.

They went through the door to the basement, with Oliva leading them to the bathroom down there that was thankfully unoccupied. “This is sort of a serious conversation, but I really need to pee.”

Azzi giggled, waving her off. “Do what you need to do, it’s okay.” She focused on touching up her makeup, first grabbing lipgloss out of her small clutch. “Seriously though, is everything okay?”

She avoided looking at her sister, but she could practically see the furrow in her brow that Azzi also always bore when she was nervous. “Yeah, it’s fine. I just… like I know I should ask you this more formally, but I really want to - - okay I’m just gonna do it.” Olivia took a deep breath, and then continued, “Will you be my maid of honor?”

“What?!” Azzi practically shrieked in excitement, trying not to poke herself in the eye considering she was in the middle of fixing her mascara. It’s not that she was necessarily surprised, they had forged a pact to be each other’s maid of honors when they were like four and six years old, she just didn’t expect to be asked so casually. “Um, of course?!” 

Olivia let out a bubbly laugh, “Perfect, just checking.” She moved past Azzi to wash her hands, yelling through the door, “Jared!”

“Yeah?” A voice sounded from the other side of the door. Of course he had followed them in here, Azzi should have known that this was a set up. “You can come in!” Olivia yelled again. When he opened the door a crack, she smiled at her fiance through the mirror. “Azzi said yes.”

He lifted up his beer in a toast, “Aye, that’s amazing!”

Azzi looked at Olivia through the mirror, “Have you thought about your bridesmaids yet?” 

She could see her sister nodding in her periphery, “Yeah, but I’m planning on asking everyone more formally. Making it special.”

Azzi huffed, “Oh, so I’m just chopped liver then.” She met Jared’s eyes in the bathroom mirror, cocking her head to the side slyly, “Jared did you pick a best man? He better be single.”

Despite how cliche it was, Azzi wouldn’t mind being the stereotypical maid of honor that hooked up with the best man, not in the slightest. It had been awhile since she last got laid, and having a best man to flirt with (then hopefully fuck) would make things much more interesting. 

“Um - -”

“Liv! Are you in here?” The sound of their mother’s voice cut him off.

Azzi looked past Jared, seeing her mom (once again) in a rather frazzled state scanning the perimeter of the basement. When she noticed the three of them, she ran a hand through her hair, “You good?” Azzi asked, stepping past Jared. 

“No, your sister needs to come get a slice of this cake she hasn’t shut up about before it’s all gone.”

Olivia’s (beyond dramatic) gasp echoed out from the bathroom, followed by her practically tripping over her own feet as she rushed out of it. “Babe, go get one for me!” 

Jared just laughed, taking a hold of Olivia’s hand. “Alright, let’s go together.”

Azzi mingled again after that, and was now standing at one of the high top tables with Janelle, catching up from the last time they had seen one another. “When’s your next home game? Was hoping to catch one soon, maybe bring Ben.” 

A weird smile broke out on Azzi’s face, which was extraordinarily confusing, because she was smiling while thinking about playing Paige. Why on earth was she smiling while thinking about playing Paige? Maybe because she was motivated as hell to beat her? Or because she was actually going to get to give the girl shit at some point tonight about it?

Azzi snapped herself out of it, that weird smile transitioning into something more natural as she said, “Next thursday. You should lemme know if you really do want to come, I can send you guys tickets.”

“Who’s it against?” Janelle asked as she opened up her phone calendar. 

“Um, the Sparks.”

“What city is that again?”

“LA.”

“LA?” Janelle repeated, brows raised. “Isn’t that Paige’s team?” When Azzi nodded, Janelle let out a dry laugh. “Oh now I have to be there. I’m sure as hell not missing that.” 

Although his presence was usually unwanted, Tyler interrupting  her conversion to bring Azzi over a drink was possibly the highlight of her evening. “Here, I freshened it up for you.” 

“Thanks Ty.”

“Oh my gosh, speaking of.” Janelle looked past where the other two were standing, “Paige!” 

Azzi’s head whipped to the side, watching as Paige started making her way toward them. Azzi brought her voice to an angry whisper, “Why the fuck did you just do that?”

Janelle pretended to be all innocent, cocking her head to the side with a smirk. “I’m sorry, am I not allowed to catch up with an old friend?” 

“Old friend my ass.” Azzi grumbled, knowing damn well the two had limited interactions in the short time both Janelle and Paige were at UConn together. 

Paige had changed since arriving. The travel clothes were gone, replaced by dark slacks and a white button-down with the sleeves rolled to her elbows. She was still carrying a drink she'd probably been handed by Jared the second she walked into the party. “Wassup J.” Paige said once she finally approached the group, leaning down to pull Janelle into a quick hug. 

Azzi stood awkwardly to the side as the two girls embraced one another. “I totally forgot she’s Jared’s sister.” Tyler leaned down to whisper in Azzi’s ear, “You guys don’t really get along, right?”

At that question, Azzi’s eyes involuntarily found Paige, who was already looking at the pair. She watched as Paige’s gaze flicked between Tyler and where he was leaning toward her. It only lasted a second, but Azzi caught the way the blonde’s jaw tightened, “And who’s this?”

Tyler transferred his drink from his right hand to his left in order to offer a greeting to Paige, “Sup, ‘m Tyler. I grew up with the Fudd’s.”

“Paige. ‘s nice to meet you.” She accepted his handshake, although from the slight grimace Tyler let out, her grip was iron tight. She looked back at Azzi, “Can I talk to you alone for a second, Fudd?”

Caught off guard, Azzi’s brain scrambled for an excuse, knowing that if they stayed near each other too long there was a solid chance something would go wrong. And, once again reminding herself about the thin ice she was on, Azzi was not willing to risk that. “Uh, actually I need to go check on - -“

“Please.” Paige interjected, “It’ll just be a second.”

Azzi conceded with a sigh. “Yeah, sure, I guess.” As they walked away, she resisted the overwhelming urge to flip off Janelle, who was watching the entire thing unfold with a look that suggested this was the most entertaining part of her evening. They made their way toward one of the empty outdoor couches at the edge of the yard. Far enough away that nobody would overhear them, but close enough that they could still hear the music drifting from the speakers.

Azzi sat down first, tucking her dress beneath herself. “What’s up?” 

Only once Azzi was situated did Paige sit too. “What you said earlier… about me making things about myself. Is that really how you see me?”

When she worked up the courage to meet Paige’s gaze, she felt her own eyes widen at the sincerity looking back at her. Blue orbs were impossibly vast, like the things Azzi had said earlier actually hurt her. But that couldn’t be the case, right? Everything she knew about Paige stemmed back to the fact that the blonde didn’t feel; she didn’t ‘do feelings.’ She told Azzi as much that stupid fucking night that changed everything between them.

She couldn’t fathom that Paige was being so upfront with her, and Lord knew she had no clue what to say back to that. If she admitted the truth, their dynamic would shift into something that could hurt her again. If she held up this idea, this thought that she viewed Paige as an egotistical attention seeker - - Azzi just really didn’t like seeing that look welling up in her eyes, okay?

“No, Paige. That’s not how I see you.” She didn’t have the nerve to wait for a response, not when her tipsiness was on the precipice of becoming flat out drunk and the last thing she needed was to start spewing more truth bombs. So, she stood quickly and cleared her throat. “I needa go find Liv.”

Paige stood too, her expression turning back into that stupid face that worked a crowd unlike anything Azzi had ever seen before. “Yeah, I should find my dad or somethin.’ See ya.”

Janelle was at her side seconds after Paige had left their general vicinity, “So, what was that all about?”

“Nothing.” Azzi rushed out, but she couldn’t pull her focus away from Paige’s back, something about whatever just happened making things all fuzzy again. She hated that. “Should we do another shot?”

—-

A few hours later and most everyone that wasn’t spending the night had left. The only people left outside were the engaged couple, Azzi, her cousin Kayla, and their neighbors Shawn and Yyvonne. 

And Paige.

Paige, who was sitting across from her at the firepit, refusing to make eye contact. It shouldn’t bother Azzi this much, she isn’t really sure why she even made that observation in the first place, but once she noticed it started driving her insane. Not even after she launched into the story of Jared drunk off his ass accidentally knocking Azzi into the pool at the hotel in Miami during last Unrivaled season. 

That story should have all of the components to make Paige laugh - - Azzi being humiliated at the expense of Paige’s brother, it being during Unrivaled, her having to deal with being made fun of for the rest of the week by the other basketball players that had witnessed said event. 

But Paige kept her eyes locked on the Heineken she was nursing, not even breaking a smile. Azzi wondered if she was even listening in the first place. Feeling herself about to slip into her anger stage of drunk (a stage no one wanted to be on the receiving end of), Azzi decided to excuse herself back inside and call it a night. 

She hugged Shawn and Yyvonne goodnight, promising to send them tickets for the sparks game that everyone was apparently now dying to come to (Azzi absolutely loved whenever any of her people came to a game, she just couldn’t help but question if the opponent had anything to do with some of their sudden interest). Everyone else she would see in the morning, so she simply waved them off before entering her parents home through its backdoor.

Most of her nighttime routine was omitted due to the combination of her drunkenness and exhaustion from the long day, but she did make sure to at least take off her eye makeup and pull the waves of her blowout into a loose braid. 

Realizing she forgot to pack pajamas, Azzi went to sneak into Olivia’s room and see if she could snag something from one of the many suitcases her sister brought. Hearing voices still echoing from outside, she figured she was in the clear of not having to engage with her sister and receive a lecture about ‘borrowing’ something to wear for the night. 

Her entire body froze involuntarily when she walked past the guest room. The door was open about halfway, and inside stood Paige in just a sports bra and low hanging sweats. God, it’s not fair for someone to look that good at this time of night. Azzi’s drunk mind couldn’t help but take in the sight of Paige exposed like that, abs flexing as she took her hair out of its slicked back bun. She hadn’t noticed Azzi at first, but she caught her staring when she glanced up in the mirror above the vanity in the corner. “Like what ya see, Fudd?”

Azzi blushed, her eyes dropping to the floor in embarrassment. She didn’t move after that though, she simply waited for Paige to say something else. When the other girl remained silent, Azzi worked up the courage to glance up again, a small smile pulling at her lips when she noticed Paige checking her out. 

Which, yeah. That might have been her own fault, considering she was in only her skin-colored lace bra and boy shorts. Give her a break, she had planned on wearing one of Olivia’s shirts to bed. “I think you like what you see, is more like it.”

Paige crossed the guest room, stopping at the doorframe and propping her forearm against it. “Wanna tell me why you're outside my door half naked?”

Azzi feigned casualty, “Forgot to pack pajamas, I was gonna steal one of Liv’s shirts.”

Paige smirked, “I have somethin’ you could wear if you want.”

“Yeah, like I’m falling for that.”

“Fallin’ for what?”

“You’re gonna give me a Uconn shirt or something.”

Paige’s smirk only widened, “Here, I’ll show ya.” 

Azzi had no clue why she was entertaining the very girl who usually made her skin crawl in agitation, but she followed her inside the guest room fully. She stood at the foot of the bed while Paige dug through the suitcase on the floor, catching the tshirt that was chucked at her at full force. 

When she unfolded it, she was greeted by the sight of a neon yellow and purple Los Angeles Sparks logo etched into a grey tshirt. Azzi raised a brow, entirely unamused, “This is almost as bad as giving me a UConn shirt, ‘m not gonna lie.”

“I mean, Ion think so. You played for the Sparks at least, you never played for Uconn.”

Azzi simply hummed, “I’m not wearing this.”

“I’ll tell Liv you took one of her shirts then.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

“You’re so fucking annoying.” Azzi grumbled, but somehow she found herself throwing on the shirt with a huff. “What time are you leaving in the morning?”

Paige moved to sit on the edge of the bed, hunched over so that her elbows rested on her knees. “Uber’s coming at eight.”

“Oh, that’s not too bad.” She stood there awkwardly for a moment, and when it seemed like Paige didn’t have anything else to say, she exhaled lowly. “Alright, well. Goodnight then. Thanks for the shirt.” She was mid-turning back toward the door when Paige shot up from the bed, grabbing her wrist and halting her movements. Azzi turned just her head to look back at the blonde, the rest of her body facing the door like she was preemptively in fight or flight. “What?”

With her hand still gripping Azzi’s wrist, Paige took a small step closer. “You hurt my feelings earlier, out in the driveway.”

Azzi sighed, “I thought we went over this already.”

“I know, but - -”

“And I thought you didn’t care about shit? So why is this bothering you so much?”

“Cause I’m still a fucking human! And I didn’t like hearing you say that.”

“Why? Why did it matter that it came from me?” Azzi’s words slurred into one another, and she hated that she sounded drunk. It took away some of the leg she had to stand on, and that was the last thing she needed tonight. 

“You know why.” Paige’s hand made contact with her hip, just barely brushing the hem of her tshirt, her other hand hovering above Azzi’s shoulder, like she was afraid to make any sudden movements.

Azzi’s voice was barely a whisper, “And why does it matter if we’re fine? Why can’t we be, like, us? The way we normally are?” It wasn’t that she necessarily liked fighting with Paige all the time per se, but at least it was something she could count on. Something consistent that didn’t give her emotional whiplash the way Paige had been at the bar after the engagement last month.

Paige responded in a similar cadence, this time with her hand more firmly on Azzi’s hip, the other bracketing the back of her neck, “Because - -”

A large echo of what sounded like someone falling came through from the stairs, followed by Olivia’s infectious laugh - - a sound that ripped the two girls apart. 

They jumped apart, each dropping their hands to their sides as if they had been burned by the illicitness of the moment. 

It was so fucking confusing being around Paige sometimes. One second it seemed like they were actually going to acknowledge the complexity of their dynamic, and the next they were acting like nothing happened. 

She felt like she saw a glimmer of the Paige she thought she once knew. Her intoxicated brain was suddenly a fiend for all things Paige, the scent of her earthy cologne, or the way her chain rested across her exposed chest; it was like everything that usually drove her crazy only turned her on now. 

Paige cleared her throat, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her sweats. “Because Imma be around you a lot soon. Y’know, with you bein’ maid of honor and me being best woman - -”

“You’re what?!” Azzi interjected, brows furrowing in confusion. “That’s not even a thing!”

“Um, yes it is. And Jared asked me tonight, so.” 

Suddenly Olivia’s urgency to discuss Azzi’s official title of maid of honor earlier in the night made a lot more sense. And of course God just had to punish her further for whatever she had done wrong in a past life by making Paige the fucking best man. Or, excuse her, best woman. 

“You’re never fucking here, Paige! How’re you ‘sposed to be helping out with everything then?” Azzi was grasping at straws, but that was the only explanation she could verbalize as to why she was so bothered that didn’t incriminate her further. “Jared’s dumb for this, you’re too unreliable.” She muttered under her breath. 

Paige’s eyes widened the same way they did earlier, but this time it was like her full body had a reaction, her words were rough as she barked out, “The fuck does that mean?”

“Watch your tone.” Azzi brought her fingers to nervously toy with the ends of her braid, “Nevermind, I shouldn’t have come in here.”

Paige scoffed, “You’re so fucking bipolar sometimes.”

“I’m the bipolar one? You go from acting like whatever that was,” She gestured loosely between them, “To hating me in like thirty seconds.”

“I dont - -” Paige cut herself off. “Ion know why I thought you changed. But you’re exactly the fucking same.”

“At least I didn’t - -” Somehow, even in the state she was in of both inebriation and emotional whiplash, Azzi was able to catch herself before she said something she would regret. “It’s late, let’s just go to bed and leave it at that.”

She stood there like a dumbass for a few solid seconds, waiting for Paige to say something at least. When she didn’t, Azzi gave up, tugging the shirt back over her head and throwing it in Paige’s general direction. She didn’t wait to see the reaction, she just exited the guest room and shut the door behind her. 

Back in her designated bedroom at her parents house, Azzi shut off the lightswitch as soon as she entered, squeezing her eyes shut so as not to cry over Paige of all people. This was one of the many (many) reasons why she hated being around Paige, she turned into someone she didn’t recognize. Someone who let another person have such a hold over her for no reason other than the fact that they couldn’t stand one another. 

Her bedroom door opened a few minutes later, and Azzi opened her eyes again with a groan. She literally felt like her eyeballs could have popped out of her head from the sheer shock of Paige being the one to enter unannounced, making her way across the room with her phone flashlight guiding her. 

Azzi sat up on her hands, “The fuck are you doing in here?”

Her confusion only heightened when she saw Paige now covering her eyes with her hand, “Are you naked?”

“What? No? Why would I be?”

“Cause you just threw my shirt back at me.”

Azzi huffed out a puff of air in annoyance, “I kept my bra on.”

Paige lowered her hand slowly, then held out a bundled up tshirt. “Here, you can have this. It’s not Sparks merch. Or Uconn.”

“I’m good.”

“Fudd - -”

“I’m really fine - -”

“Just take the fucking shirt Azzi.” 

Her actually using Azzi’s first name, which she had probably heard exit the blonde’s mouth maybe a handful of times in the years that they had known one another, made Azzi concede. She took the shirt from Paige’s outstretched hand. “Turn around.”

Paige did as she was told, and Azzi unhooked her bra, tossing it to the side before slipping the shirt over her head. The only reason she could make out what was on the shirt was from the light of Paige’s phone flashlight, and she let herself smile at it for less than a second, before neutralizing again. 

“You had my shirt with you and you still gave me a fucking Sparks one?”

It was a tshirt she bought at Drake’s concert years back, one that she lent Paige a long time ago, and never received back. “Cause it was funny.”

“Sure it was.” Azzi rolled her eyes, adjusting so she was sitting more upright, hugging her knees to her chest. “Was that all?”

Paige nodded, “Yup. See ya next week. You’re going down, Fudd.”

“We’ll see about that.” 

Paige paused at the door, grabbing the knob to close it behind her. She stopped just as she was about to step in the hallway, looking back over at Azzi. “I could never hate you, y’know.”

She didn’t wait for a response, just closed the door fully. 

Only when Azzi heard footsteps moving down the hallway did she relax, taking a deep breath and tipping her head back. Then, because she never could leave things easily when it came to Paige, she opened up her phone. 

azzi fudd🤓

i know 

"that you'll never forget..."

------------

Paige has grown to accept Dallas. Not love it. Accept it. It’s just become one of life’s many truths to her: she’s blonde, she’s good at basketball, she lives in Dallas. She’s gotten good at accepting truths over the course of her life. She accepted at three that her parents were divorcing. She accepted at sixteen that she was a lesbian. She accepted at nineteen that she was deeply and irrevocably in love with Azzi Fudd. And she had accepted at twenty-three, just three months ago, that her and Azzi were over.

It was a blowout. One she’s not proud of, but one she has accepted as the truth. They had been on-and-off their entire time at UConn and it was messy and juvenile and fun. Paige really did love her. She’s pretty sure Azzi loved her back, but she doesn’t know if that’s a truth, so she can’t accept it. Paige knows, though, that she really did love the time she had with the girl.

But then she got drafted to Dallas, and little fights became bigger with distance, and eventually she was standing in her apartment on the phone with Azzi in Virginia and yelling down the receiver at her that maybe things would be easier if they didn’t feel trapped with each other. And Azzi had yelled right back that she had agreed, that breaking up and going no contact was the best choice for them. Paige had just hung up the phone.

That last thing Azzi had said is not a truth, Paige doesn’t think. But she’s accepted it anyway. It’s now September, the Dallas heat mellowing out to something almost like autumn, and they haven’t spoken a single word since that last phone call in June. It hurts, but at the same time, Paige had known they were messy. She had known things weren’t going to always go well for them. It was only a matter of time before they had broken up again, even if it was for good.

It’s late. Paige’s curtains are drawn in her bedroom, but she’s certain they serve almost no purpose at this point. The sky is dark and hangs heavy with the weight of the nighttime. There’s no moon tonight. The street lights are artificial and hang below the level of her apartment. The only light in her room is that of her phone screen, shining TikToks at her as she scrolls to try to get herself tired enough to fall asleep. She has a game tomorrow that she’s nervous for. She knows she should shut the phone off, but she gets wound up like this sometimes. Distractions work better than rest when she’s like this.

She’s been laying in bed in silence for hours. She’s in her boxers and a ratty t-shirt, hair down and splayed across the pillow. Her lids are heavy despite the nerves swirling low in her stomach. She wants to fall asleep but knows she’s not tired enough to try, and so she allows herself to lay there in her slightly disgusting pajamas and continue to scroll on social media. She tries to manifest fatigue for herself as she does so.

Paige is joining an ASMR TikTok live when she hears it: a low, almost mechanical hum from the side. Paige perks up, confused. Her phone continues to shine light into her face. She looks out into her dark bedroom but sees nothing. It sounds almost like a muffled buzz, like something has been switched on. She looks to the side she hears it on. The only thing there is her nightstand, sandwiched between her mattress and the wall of her apartment.

She frowns. The buzzing doesn’t stop. She leans out and gropes into the darkness until she finds the string of her lamp, tugging on it. Light spills out and drenches her. She squints a little bit through it before leaning farther over to the side to see if she can sense where it’s coming from.

It really does sound like it’s from her nightstand. Which is odd, because she hasn’t used the drawer in months. The surface of the piece of furniture has been too cluttered for her to care about opening the drawer for a while. But it’s somewhat tidy right now, enough that she can open the drawer, and the weird humming is continuing.

Paige reaches out and tugs on the drawer. It gets stuck for a moment and she screws her face up, pulling harder. It gives and opens like a wide mouth. Within said mouth are many things she has gone months without: a package of cough drops, a few bracelets she doesn’t remember losing, a book she’s been looking for. And another item that she immediately clocks as the source of the buzzing, an item that makes her entire body flush.

It’s a vibrator. The one Azzi had bought her nearly a year ago, the one Paige had bought a duplicate of for Azzi. The one that is linked to an app on Azzi’s phone. Her mouth goes dry. Her face warms. Her ex-girlfriend is all the way in Storrs. Here, in Paige’s nightstand in Dallas, the vibrator she had bought her while they were dating is on.

It’s a soft pink Azzi had picked out for her. The shape of it is familiar, something Paige not only recognizes with her eyes but also immediately remembers the feeling of when it’s inside of her. She can feel herself start to sweat. Azzi is the only one with control of the vibrator. Her phone is the only one they had synced up to it. She turned it on. Paige reaches out towards the lamp again, scared, and turns it off. She plunges herself into darkness again. The vibrator doesn’t stop.

Paige’s first thought is to text her about it. Not to just hit the off button like a normal person, but to text her and ask her to turn it off herself. Or maybe asking why she had even turned it on in the first place is a better question. The question itself doesn’t really matter. She just wants an excuse to text Azzi, to break their no contact. She misses her a lot more than she’d like to admit.

Azzi was the one to break the no contact first, if Paige really is thinking about it. Turning on her vibrator has to be some form of communication. And if anything, it’s probably worse than just texting or calling her, because it’s honestly weird she still has the app and has it linked to Paige’s vibrator. Not that Paige doesn’t also still have the app with it still linked to Azzi’s. But she hasn’t gone around turning Azzi’s on.

So despite maybe her better judgement, still leaning over her ajar nightstand with her vibrator buzzing in the drawer, she texts Azzi. Her skin feels warm. Her breathing picks up a little bit. The vibrator stays making an even noise in front of her.

paige bueckers: azzi

Azzi answers immediately. Paige sits up in bed.

azzi fudd: call me

paige bueckers: are you sure?

azzi fudd: do u not want to?

paige bueckers: i do

Her hands are nearly shaking. With anticipation or with nerves, she doesn’t know, but she’s immediately moving to FaceTime Azzi either way. Adrenaline starts to jump under her skin. Her phone screen shines up at her as she clicks the button to call her. When it starts to ring in her hands, she feels her entire body start to hum, her want for sleep very quickly forgotten as she calls Azzi.

She accepts on the third ring. Her screen is black. Paige’s is, too, the night cloaking both of them. She sits there on her bed with her phone gripped in both hands and her eyes wide and her nightstand open and she looks at Azzi’s screen. They’re both silent. Paige waits for the other girl to say something. The buzz of the vibrator is the only sound between them. Her heart is quick in her chest.

Paige glances up from her phone and towards her nightstand. She can just barely make out the shape of the piece of furniture through the dark, the shape of the sex toy sitting within it blurry from where she is. Azzi is still silent. Paige faces the phone again. “Did you turn my vibrator on?”

Silence, for another few moments. Paige’s stomach is starting to twist and fold over itself in an expectant way that she might start dreading if Azzi doesn’t say something soon. “Yeah.” The word is dry, spoken easily over the speaker.

Paige blinks at her phone. “What the fuck?”

Azzi scoffs a little bit. Paige immediately hears the almost harsh edge to the sound. It catches itself on her body, winding her up a little further. She squeezes her legs together under the covers. “I thought you liked that one. I can turn it off if you really don’t want it, baby,” Azzi says, voice smooth and low.

The pet name pangs in a way that makes Paige hungrier. Her brows furrow a little bit. She feels hot between her legs. “Wait- Wait, wait. No, don’t turn it off. But- Okay, so it was on purpose?” Her voice turns a little desperate at the edges. She can hear it. She doesn’t really do anything to hide it.

Azzi goes quiet for a moment like she’s musing. Paige is getting hornier by the second and she thinks if her and Azzi hadn’t been this way all four years they spent together at UConn, she’d be terrified at the way the younger girl still had such a firm grip on her body. “If you want it to be on purpose, then yeah,” she eventually says, the edges of her words curling up with a low tease.

Paige’s brows furrow. “That’s not an answer, Azzi,” she nearly mumbles. It’s already somewhat needy.

Azzi’s response comes quick, sharp. “I don’t need to give you an answer. I’m giving you enough turning that shit on for you. Are you gonna sit here and try to fight with me, or are you gonna be good for me and use your toy?” And it immediately hits Paige’s cunt, legs squirming underneath her sheets, her abdomen clenching a little.

She looks at the vibrator in her drawer again, at the way it’s still buzzing, the way her body is starting to react to its motions and to Azzi’s voice. “I wasn’t- I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I was just wondering,” she says. She’s already submitting. She’s already giving in, already wanting so badly.

Paige leans out of bed to grab the vibrator. The shaft of it is smooth, buzzing against her palm when she touches it, whole hand going a little fuzzy when she wraps her fingers around it to pick it up. “No, it’s fine.” Azzi’s voice is clipped. It’s stern. It’s punishing and Paige is already fighting the urge to whine at it, the wet spot in her boxers growing. “We can fight later. I’m busy now.” And then it stops vibrating.

Paige sits there in her bed, dumb, holding her no longer vibrating vibrator in one hand and Azzi’s black screen in the other. Something like desperation starts trying to claw itself up her, want and adrenaline pulsing through her and making her clit throb. “No, no, I’ll be good, please, I’ll be so good, please,” she says, voice quiet and almost hoarse.

Azzi tuts quietly over the phone. The vibrator is motionless in her hand still. Paige’s face twists up a little bit. “Are you sure? ‘Cause you’re being a little bit of a brat right now, Paige. I’m giving to you and you’re picking fights with me.” Paige’s grip tightens a little on the silicone in her hand.

She’d like to fight back. She’d like to think she still has the power to tell Azzi to give her what she wants or else. But she’s needy, and she hasn’t spoken to Azzi in months, and just hearing her voice as she scolds Paige has her so wet where she is in her bed. “No, please, I’ll be so good, I need it, please,” she says. Azzi is quiet for a few moments. “Mommy, please,” Paige whines.

She hears Azzi’s breath as she exhales softly into her phone. Paige tenses a little in the dark at the way it sounds like she’s giving in. “Okay. But you’re gonna be a good girl and do what I say, right?” Her voice is still low, but it’s almost a coo by the time she’s finished, and Paige tries not to squirm too hard at the way it already sounds like a praise.

“Yes, yes, please,” she breathes, looking down at the black screen of her phone with large eyes and parted lips. Azzi hums softly, the sound low as it slips through the speakers. Paige’s chest is quick to rise and fall as she breathes. They’re both quiet for a few moments. Paige’s body feels charged with want, but she waits for Azzi to say something to her.

The vibrator turns on again. Azzi hums again when Paige sucks in a soft gasp at the way the silicone starts moving in her grip, sending soft vibrations up her arm she desperately wants to feel somewhere else. The darkness makes it hard for her to make much of anything out, but she looks towards her hand and bites the inside of her cheek as she traces the shape of the toy with her gaze, vision a little fuzzy with her want.

“It’s on?” Paige hums an affirmative. The sound gets caught a little in her throat, turning slightly high pitched near its end. She hears Azzi laugh a little at this. The sound is low and teasing and makes Paige turn only hotter. “Are you wearing pants?”

She looks down at her legs despite the fact that they’re covered by her blankets and that she knows exactly what she’s wearing underneath them. The vibrator buzzes in her grip and she starts to kick the covers away just enough for her hips and thighs to be exposed, her legs pale shapes in the darkness. “Just boxers,” she says.

“Oh, good,” Azzi nearly purrs. Paige’s eyes threaten to flutter shut at the sound of her voice. Her clit is throbbing at this point, want running through her like the current of a winding river. It splashes up the sides and burns her from the inside out. “Don’t take them off. Put it on your clit through your boxers.”

Paige follows the directions because she’s nearly dizzy from want. She takes the baby pink vibrator and spreads her legs enough to find her clit with it through the dark. The pleasure comes immediately. “Oh,” she mumbles dumbly. The vibrations press into her bundle of nerves through the fabric and it immediately feels like relief.

Azzi hums a little bit. Just the sound of her voice makes Paige’s abdomen feel tighter, head tipping back into her headboard. She’s so, so warm, the buzz of the vibrator pressing against her heat and making her feel fuzzy. “Does it feel good?” Azzi’s voice cuts through the haze of pleasure. It’s a sharp hit of goodness instead, her mouth tipping open to release a soft sound just at the sound of her talking to Paige.

“Yeah,” she breathes, voice bordering on a moan. She already feels so wound up. She’s only hooked up with a few girls since their break up and none of them had satisfied her. Neither had her own hand. To be here, back in Azzi’s control, even if it’s only over the phone, drags her easily into the depths of pleasure. The feeling suddenly heightens itself. A small moan slips past Paige’s lips. “Holy shit, did you jus’ turn it up?”

Her legs don’t feel attached to her body. She’s nearly gawking at her phone this point, eyelids already heavy and body buzzing with bliss. Azzi hums again. The sound gets Paige every time. “You can take it. You’re gonna be good for me, right?” Azzi’s stern again as she says it. Paige arches her back a little. Her hips tilt down and the vibrator only grinds farther against her clit, waves of pleasure ebbing easily though her.

“Yes, yeah, Imma be good,” she says. Her breathing is already getting heavy. She uses her hand to try to press it against herself harder. It’s hard to get the peak pleasure she knows she can through the fabric still covering her soaked pussy. “Can I-” She cuts herself off with a moan, body twitching a little bit.

“You can’t do anything unless I say. I want you to sit there with it on you through your boxers until I say. Got it?” Paige’s eyes shut. Her spine arches a little again, body drenched in a warmth she knows Azzi will take from her if she fights back.

The vibrator continues to buzz against her underwear. “Yes, mommy,” she mumbles, hips rolling a little to grind her clit against the silicone of the toy. She can hear the way she already sounds so gone, the way she’s so easily folded for Azzi and what she asks of Paige.

Her bedroom is dark around her. Everything is quiet except for the vibrator against her clit and the soft moans spilling from her mouth. Azzi is calm on the other side of the line, her voice even every time she speaks to Paige. It makes Paige feel dirtier. Hidden, doing something she shouldn’t be. The vibrator presses against her and she feels like she’s being lapped at by the tide, body floating. “It feels so good, huh?”

She moans a little. Azzi makes a quiet sound of approval at the noise. Paige grinds herself down against the toy in her hand again at it. “Yeah, it’s so good,” she says, voice breathy. The hand holding the phone is starting to tremble. She sets it down on the pillow next to her head, keeping the hand there against the pillows. She rolls her hips again.

“You just love that shit,” Azzi says. It’s almost cooed again, a seemingly sweet voice saying dirty things close to her ear. Paige just moans softly in response. She spends a few moments here, quietly letting the vibrator dig into her clit, body fuzzy with the pleasure that gently finds her and jolting every once in a while with a want for more of it.

Azzi gives into her after only a little bit of this. “You’ve been good. You can take your boxers off, baby,” she says, voice spilling out of the speakers and leaking over her pillowcase to sticky her skin like honey. Paige immediately moves her other hand down to push at the waistband of her underwear. Her movements are almost frantic, messy, body gone loose and stupid with pleasure.

She gets her boxers down to her knees and then opts to just kick them off, legs shuffling under the covers. “Thank you, mommy,” she says as she does this. When they’re off enough for her to be able to spread her legs again, she does so, immediately settling the tip of the vibrator against her clit again. The pleasure that finds her from this is heightened from what she felt before, a direct hit that curls itself in her abdomen like smoke. “Oh my God, oh my God,” she moans.

She knows she’s not going to last for very long. Azzi makes a soft sound into the receiver, one that makes Paige throw her head back into the pillows and arch her back a little as she continues to press the buzzing silicone into where she’s sensitive. “Is that better?” Azzi’s voice is low.

Paige’s body shudders a little bit. “Yes, yes, it’s so good, oh my fucking God, Azzi,” she moans. Her bare cunt feels so wet and warm as the air of her bedroom hits it while she continues to press her vibrator against herself. Her eyes flutter a little and her abs flex.

“You sound so good, you’re being so good for me,” Azzi praises. Paige whines a little, rutting her hips again. The hand not holding the toy moves out to find her sheets and fists them. Her grip is tight. So is her gut, though, as she’s worked so close to her orgasm that she doesn’t know what to do with herself. Nearly every exhale borders on a moan.

Azzi is quiet again on the other side of the phone. Paige thinks she can probably hear the wet buzz of the vibrator against herself, the way her folds are so soaked that even her clit is lubricated with her slick. She moans a little louder than any other noise she’s made tonight. Her body is nearly writhing. “‘m gonna- I’m gonna cum, I’m so close,” she gasps.

“How close?” The questioning is immediate. Paige can’t do anything but moan without speaking for a few moments, lower body nearly spasming with the promise of her orgasm so near. Release is right there, teasing the tight knot that has settled itself into her belly, and she chases it as she holds the vibrator to her clit. “Answer me, Paige.”

She moans again. She’s so close to the edge, body fuzzy and on fire, mouth agape. The darkness of her apartment smothers her, drenches her in a secretiveness that heightens every beat of pleasure that washes itself over her body. “‘m gonna cum, ‘m gonna cum, ‘m gonna-”

Azzi cuts her off. “Take it off,” she says sharply. “Stop. Now. Take the vibrator off of yourself.” And even though it nearly hurts to do so, Paige immediately obliges. A soft cry tears itself from her throat at the loss of friction. Her pussy aches. Her abs contract again, lower body craving a release.

Paige holds the vibrator out to the side. She bites the inside of her cheek, brows knitting together. “Please let me touch myself, please, I’m so close, oh my God,” she babbles, words slurring a little. Her eyelids still feel heavy. Her body is both tired and buzzing with want, every inch of her skin flushed with the work of being so close to a release.

“Wait,” Azzi scolds, voice firm. Paige whines a little. She can feel her clit pulsing, puffy as it protrudes from its hood between her legs. She’s soaked with her own arousal, can feel her slick between her folds and climbing up to her clit and dripping down to her skin. “You can only cum when I say. Okay? You’re gonna be a good girl for me and only cum when mommy says?”

Paige’s entire face screws up. The vibrator is right there, still going, gripped tightly in her hand. Her pussy hurts from the sudden lack of attention. “Yes, okay, yes, I’ll be good, mommy,” she forces out, craving the orgasm she was so close to. Her leg twitches. Her mouth is still parted. She can’t get it to close, can’t stop herself from laying in bed and feeling useless as Azzi tells her what to do.

Azzi hums softly again. Paige’s stomach tightens impossibly. She blinks up at her ceiling through the dark and her eyes sting a little bit. “So good for me. You can touch yourself again, but tell me when you’re close,” Azzi says eventually. Paige wastes no time at all pressing the buzzing tip of the vibrator up against her clit.

Pleasure rips up through her like it’s tugged a zipper that runs along her body. She gasps out a moan, back arching off of the mattress again. “Holy shit, mommy, it’s so good,” she says, voice tight in her throat. Her toes curl. Her abdomen heats with the promise of an orgasm again. She feels dizzy with pleasure, floating on her mattress as she gets so close to the edge. “‘m close, ‘m close,” she gasps.

Azzi pauses for a moment, letting Paige soak up even more attention against her clit before she speaks. “Take it off,” she says firmly. Paige forces her hand away from her pussy. She whines, body spasming a little as her orgasm is torn away from her again. Her face scrunches again as pain ebbs through her right where bliss had just been softening her entire body.

Paige exhales and it shakes on the way out. Every inch of her feels so tight and wound up and Azzi keeps ripping release away from her right when it’s so close. Her eyes start to sting again and she feels them glass over, tears threatening to fall from them as she lays against her mattress with her vibrator buzzing uselessly in her hand as her clit throbs. “Good girl, Paige, you’re doing so good for me,” Azzi coos.

Paige makes a noise that’s a cross between a whimper and a grunt. “It hurts,” she breathes, her voice quiet and a little thick with the tears that are threatening to fall against her face. The heat between her legs is nearly blinding with all of its want, all of the ways her pussy is starting to spread its pain through her legs and abdomen and chest. “I wanna cum,” she whines quietly.

Azzi hums. Her voice is a little husky over the speaker. Paige squeezes her eyes shut further at the sound of it. “I know, baby.” She’s so close to sounding soft as she says it. Paige almost believes that she does feel bad for her, but there’s an edge to her voice, one she knows all too well. She’s having fun torturing Paige like this. “You can touch again,” she says.

Paige wordlessly presses the vibrator against herself again. A moan rips itself free from her mouth. Her hips shudder and start mindlessly rutting against the silicone. Her mouth falls open. She can’t speak, only chase the high she’s been promised so many times and had taken away just as many. It buzzes wetly against her. Her breathing is so quick she’s almost surprised she’s getting any air in, chest heaving and lips dry.

She doesn’t know when she had started crying, but she feels warm tears start to roll down the sides of her face, dripping off against the pillow. They leave salty streaks against her skin. She arches farther and her hips tilt to dip the vibrator deeper against her clit. “‘m gonna cum,” she forces out, voice tight, face wet.

“Take it off,” Azzi says. Paige chokes on a sob when she does so. Her cunt is weeping with her, precum soaking her between her legs, everything throbbing painfully and wet. She can’t move her legs. It hurts too badly. She just lays there on her mattress, crying, mouth parted as she shudders out breaths that hurt to take.

“Please,” she begs. It’s so quiet she thinks the buzz of the vibrator might drown it out. But Azzi makes a soft noise at hearing it, a small tone of acknowledgement that Paige clings to. “I need it, mommy, please let me cum, please,” she says. Her tears make her voice thick. Her chest shudders with each breath because it brings with it another sharp wave of pain echoing from her cunt and another warm tear streaking down the side of her face.

Her abdomen feels like something molten. Azzi has forced her to leave herself hot for too long and now every inch of her skin is burning below her waist, gut on fire. “Oh, baby. So worked up, huh?” Paige whines at the question. She thinks she hears Azzi laugh a little and it sends another pang through her pussy. She inhales and it shakes with the wetness of her tears. “You can touch again.”

Paige moves to set the vibrator against herself again. She sobs at the relief, body still not able to protect her from the fact that she knows Azzi will tear it away from her again. She’s shaking before she’s even cumming. Her clit is swollen against the toy, eyes swollen with her tears. She moans more than she breathes. She doesn’t feel in control of herself anymore.

The familiar edge starts to press itself low into her abdomen quickly. Her spine arches and it hurts because of how good it feels to angle her hips that way against the vibrator. “I’m gonna fucking cum,” she chokes out. Her voice sounds so desperate. She doesn’t care to be ashamed. She just cares about chasing that release, body so wound up and shuddering.

Azzi coos a little at her over the phone. “You can cum, baby. Go cum all over yourself like a good girl. Make a mess,” she says, and her words are all Paige needs. She feels the white-hot tension of her entire body trying to curl in on itself right before her orgasm and then the release of being given it. Another sob rips itself out of her. Her ribcage opens.

“Oh my God,” she moans. She feels herself spilling out against her mattress, the warm and wet heat of her cum dripping from her slit as she releases against the toy on her. It courses through her harshly. She feels it in every inch of herself. More tears fall down her face. She can’t stop them, body shaking at the mercy of Azzi.

Azzi lets her ride out her orgasm in silence for a while. Paige’s body is so grateful to feel a release that she almost can’t breathe with it. It’s a lot of choked moans, a lot of jolting and curling and winding and stretching, a lot of Paige trying to say something and being unable to get her mouth to form the shapes necessary. The darkness of her apartment shoves itself down her throat and cakes against her eyes. She’s blinded, both by the lack of light and by the ecstasy that has dragged itself deep within her.

It starts to hurt after a little. The shaking in her legs gets worse. She whines a little to Azzi and then pulls the vibrator away from herself, turning her head to look towards her phone. Her hair is wet where her tears have been able to reach it. “Are you done?” Paige hums a slightly broken affirmative into the receiver. Azzi is quiet for a moment. “Do you still have the app for mine?”

Paige screws her face up a little bit again. “Yeah,” she breathes. Azzi hums a little. It sounds satisfied. Paige’s legs shudder a little again. Her skin prickles with chill now that the warmth of her orgasm is washing away from her.

“Good girl, Paige,” Azzi says. Paige’s eyes flutter a little at the praise. It tries to echo itself within her abdomen, but she’s so overstimulated that the pang of it just hurts when it reaches her cunt. She hears shifting from Azzi over the phone, the sound of something rustling and of weight shifting. “I want you to open it up and turn mine on. And I want you to fuck yourself with me right now.”

Paige’s eyes shut at this. “Azzi,” she breathes, voice tight. She can already feel herself winding up a little at the words and the way her voice is so low and sultry as she speaks them to Paige. Another bite of pain between her legs, like pressing against a bruise. She likes it. “Mommy, I can’t, it’s gonna hurt.” She’s turning to grab her phone and open the app anyway as she says it. The vibrator stays in one hand.

Azzi makes a noise of disapproval. Paige squints as her phone splashes more light over her than Azzi’s dark screen had as the app loads open on her phone. “You can take it. You said you would be good for me, you can take it,” she says. Her voice is firm again. And even though Paige knows her body will ache with it both now and when she wakes up, she’s already accepted that she stands no chance against Azzi. She’s going to give in.

She turns on Azzi’s vibrator through the app. She thinks she can hear the buzz of it through the call, can hear a soft laugh of something almost like delight from Azzi when she does so. She opens back up their call to soften the amount of light in her room again. “Good,” she says quietly. Paige’s hand curls a little around the pillow case her phone is resting on without having even been touched again. “Start fucking yourself. Put it in, baby,” she says.

Paige fights the urge to whine at the words. She looks down at the hand not already fisting her sheets, at the one holding her vibrator. The movements of it echo up her arm and make her body feel like jelly. She shuts her eyes, brows drawing together a little. “Okay,” she mumbles, and then she’s moving her hand between her thighs, skin there already sticky and muscles there already jittering, chest swelling a little with Azzi’s presence through the phone.

She presses the tip of it against her entrance. The vibrations immediately turn wetter against her slick, the sound of it filthy in the air. A soft moan slips into her mouth and she tries too late to swallow it. Her pussy is aching with stimulation, but her abdomen aches with the want for more, for her to press the shape all the way inside of herself and listen as Azzi does the same over the phone.

Paige pushes it a little farther into herself. She feels the stretch of it, feels the way her walls are warm and tight and the toy buzzes within her. Her head thrashes a little to the side, facing her phone. She can hear Azzi make a soft noise through the speaker and the low hum of her own vibrator. Paige mimics the sound herself as she continues the slow press of the toy inside of her.

She already knows that, whatever this orgasm looks like, the journey towards it won’t last very long. She’s already moaning as she adjusts to the feeling of having something inside of her and listening to Azzi’s breath hitch and release a little over the phone as she very clearly does the same thing. “Azzi,” she mumbles dumbly. The word wavers a little on its way out of her mouth.

Azzi exhales into the receiver. It comes out a little shaky. Paige’s brows knit a little at the sound, expression shifting as her mouth parts and her body warms itself with pleasure again at the feeling of the vibrator inside of her. “I know,” Azzi says, voice slightly drawn with the beginning of a moan. Paige makes a small whining noise. “Feels good, huh?”

“Yes,” she breathes. She pushes it farther within her and then pulls it out a little, starting a slow rhythm of pumping it in and out of herself. The fullness and the vibrations drag up against her walls and smooth pleasure into her entire body. She shudders a little at the feeling. “Holy shit, oh my God, mommy,” she moans, pushing it into herself again.

Azzi hums. It’s breathy and light, a sound of pleasure. Paige mimics it. The toy slips easily in and out of her, lubricated with her cum. Her legs won’t stop twitching. Her abdomen is wound tight. “Fuck, Paige,” Azzi says, voice pitched slightly up. Paige angles her head closer to her phone. She can hear the wet sound of something pulling in and out of Azzi’s clearly soaked cunt. It’s so filthy and erotic that she can’t help but clench a little around the toy inside of her, eyes rolling back a little.

Words stop spilling between them for a while. They’re replaced by noises, by soft moans and buzzing and the wet sounds of sex. The rhythm Paige has built up for herself quickens easily, warmth spreading through her where she pumps pleasure into herself. Her body feels like a candle with a lit wick. She’s hot and oozing and writhing a little on her mattress, body dripping.

The sounds Azzi makes as she fucks herself leave Paige so close to tipping over into her release. They’re quiet but still make Paige make similar ones. The speaker crackles a little with their shared pleasure. “Oh my God, Azzi, ‘m so close,” she forces out as she continues to fuck herself. Azzi moans a little in response. Paige’s head tips back farther into the pillows, neck cramping a little, face screwing up as her motions become sloppier and more desperate.

“Me too, fuck, Paige,” she rasps, voice a little muffled but still so needy. Paige likes it like this. She likes it when she gives into Azzi, but she also likes it when they’re both unraveling, both of them desperate and moaning as they get off. Her body hums with a raw pleasure she doesn’t think she’ll ever get tired of.

Her breathing speeds up. The knot in her abdomen draws itself tighter, the buzz of the vibrator fighting to let it release. Paige’s hands are shaking and each exhale is a moan. “‘m gonna cum, ‘m gonna cum, I can’t, I have to cum,” she says, and more tears are collecting at the corners of her eyes. She fists her sheets again. Her hips roll without her permission, spine aching to move with the waves of bliss trying to push through the contractions of her abdomen.

She thinks Azzi might deny her the release again, might push her to hold off for longer until she’s crying and begging again, but the younger girl just offers her a breathy moan through the speakers. “I’m right there, I’m gonna cum, too,” she says. Paige’s face screws up further. She feels like she’s fraying at the edges, like it will only take one tug at a loose seam for her to come completely undone and spill out onto her mattress and vibrator. A strangled cry rips itself from her throat. “Cum, Paige, let go,” Azzi breathes.

Paige does just that. “Fuck,” she says, probably too loudly. It draws itself out into a quiet whimper as her entire body tenses with her orgasm. It’s somehow even sharper than the previous one, more desperate, Azzi still moaning close to her ear through the phone. Paige continues to fuck herself through the high of cumming and feels the way the toy between her legs becomes impossibly wetter. The sound of it pumping in and out of her is almost disgusting and her spine won’t come undone from the arch it’s settled itself into.

“Paige, baby,” Azzi gasps, and then Paige can hear her cumming, too. A guttural moan strips itself from her chest. Paige groans a little at the sound of it, her own hand still working. Her body is spasming with pleasure, breath hitching and releasing, legs shaking against the mattress. Her eyes squeeze shut. 

She lets herself believe, as she’s still cumming on her vibrator, that it’s Azzi fucking it into her, that the speaker is really the raw heat of her mouth and that the sounds aren’t traveling thousands of miles to get to her. That it’s Paige’s actions getting Azzi to moan like that. She keeps shuddering with the rocking goodness of her orgasm.

Paige slowly pulls it out of herself when the pleasure gives way to an ache harder to ignore than the one Azzi had just forced her through. Her legs shake a little at the loss, a harsh exhale pressing itself out of her chest. “Holy shit,” she mumbles into the quiet between them, raising the toy a little to hit the power button. She thinks she hears Azzi laugh softly. The sound of it shakes a little with her uneven breathing.

She shuts it off and carelessly reaches up to set it on her headboard. And she knows that she’s sticky between her legs, knows that there’s probably a wet spot on her sheets where she’s just been laying, but she can’t get herself to care through the fatigue that has found her. She hears Azzi’s vibrator turn off just moments after her own. And then they’re just laying there, the night choking them out, the only sound their breathing.

Paige is so tired. So much more tired than she had been before Azzi had called. She rolls over onto her stomach where the bed is clean. Sighs into her pillow, feels her body sink into her mattress and her tangled blankets. Her lids are heavy and start to sink over her eyes.

azzi looked at her out of the side of her eye in performative judgment and then sighed, giving in as easy as she always did. she turned so they were facing each other and reached out to play with the collar of paige’s pajama shirt.

“when mila held up the lollipops, i looked up,” azzi recalled. her voice was low and soft.

paige closed her eyes, taking herself back to that moment. by then, she’d already fallen in love with azzi, she liked to say. but azzi hadn’t laid eyes on her yet.

azzi absentmindedly stroked the back of her fingers against paige’s chin as she continued the story. “and you were so tall. and good looking. and blonde. and obviously gay.”

paige snorted, eyes flying open. “stop adding details,” she complained.

azzi grinned at her, way too pleased with herself. “it’s true, though. i knew immediately.”

paige rolled her eyes, putting on a show of annoyance that was completely counteracted by the way she slipped her hand under azzi’s shirt to feel at the warm skin of her waist. azzi giggled and tapped her lip, pretending to need to think about what happened next. as if she hadn’t told paige this story once a month since they’d started dating.

“anyway,” she said, “don’t interrupt me.” paige blinked at her, patiently waiting for her to continue. “i looked up at you, and my heart, like, stopped in my chest.”

paige grinned, unable to help herself. this was her favorite part of the story.

“because i didn’t know what your personality was like yet,” azzi added.

paige scoffed. “stop, bruh. you’re so full of shit.”

azzi smiled at her again, little dimple peaking out to rub in just how much paige’s girlfriend loved ragebaiting her. then she took in a breath and let it out in a puff that was so cute, paige was overcome with the desire to kiss her senseless. but then she wouldn’t get the rest of her story. drawing on all her strength, paige refrained.

“and then i had to read the book and not look over at you because i would’ve stuttered or something,” azzi continued. “that was hard. i really wanted to look at you. i remember thinking that at least mila was sitting in my lap and you’d have to come back over to collect her. and i’d get to talk to you then. or at least look at you.”

“gay,” paige commented.

azzi gave her a flat look before continuing as if she hadn’t spoken. “and then you did come over, and you weren’t mila’s mom, and you were babysitting as a twenty-something year old, and i wanted to stay with the two of you as long as i could. so i asked mila if she wanted to see the other bluey books we had.”

paige nodded. “let’s skip this part because you don’t talk to me for the next fifteen minutes literally at all,” she said.

azzi laughed at her. “i was talking to mila! i was being a good librarian.”

“you were stealing my job and my kid,” paige corrected.

azzi rolled her eyes. then she shuffled a little closer to paige on the bed, and paige’s chest burst into a kaleidoscope of butterflies. “whatever.” azzi pursed her lips again in thought, presumably trying to remember the next interaction she and paige had. “oh, right,” she said, meeting paige’s eyes again. “then i lied and said you were good with her.”

paige groaned and turned her head to the ceiling. “you’re so annoying, bruh.”

azzi giggled, reaching out to hook a finger under the collar of paige’s shirt again. “well i didn’t know that to say,” she said. “i just wanted to talk to you.”

paige turned back to azzi and blew a sharp breath in her face. azzi scrunched up her eyes as it hit her. “continue,” paige said.

azzi looked away as she recalled the next events, her finger moving up to draw gentle lines down paige’s neck and collarbone. “you got all awkward and surprised,” she said. “and i laughed at you.”

she returned her gaze to paige’s with a smug little grin. paige pursed her lips, unable to argue with the objectively accurate account. azzi smiled wider.

“you looked really cute,” she said, placating. “and that’s when i started wondering if you liked me, too.” she moved her hand up to draw the pad of her thumb over the line of paige’s jaw. “but then you left the library, so i figured i was wrong.”

paige closed her eyes, cringing at her past self. “sorry,” she said.

azzi giggled. “it’s okay,” she said. “you came back. running.”

paige felt her face heat as she re-imagined what the scene must’ve looked like from azzi’s perspective. from the perspective of everyone else at the library. god. how embarrassing.

“and then you asked for my name, and you said it was pretty,” azzi said. for the first time since she’d started telling the story, azzi became visibly affected by the memory. her eyes turned distant and melty, and her face had softened into a whispered smile. paige felt the urge to kiss her senseless well up again.

“it is pretty,” she said instead. “you’re pretty.”

azzi looked up at her and smiled. “thank you,” she said softly. they looked at each other, sharing breath and warmth, and paige could tell azzi was debating whether or not she wanted to continue the story. she wondered what option azzi was weighing it against.

then azzi looked away and snapped back to herself with a quiet laugh. “and then you tried to leave,” she said. “again.”

paige closed her eyes against the embarrassment. “i didn’t know if you were even gay,” she said in defense. it was what she always said at this point in the story.

“i know, i know,” azzi said. “that’s why i told you when i got off work. and the rest is history.”

paige ran her hand up azzi’s shirt until it was splayed against her upper back. then she pressed azzi into herself until their chests were flush. “that’s a good story,” she said against azzi’s mouth.

“yeah?” azzi murmured, the corners of her mouth turning up. she slotted her knee between paige’s legs, joining in her girlfriend’s efforts to make them one body.

paige nodded. “you should tell it at our wedding.”

azzi’s face lit up, her brows raising as her grin grew into a full smile. “oh, really?” she asked. “that’s presumptuous.”