#cyfabh

The second the plane landed, there had only been one place her mind would let her go. One person she needed to see, a conversation that had been sitting on her chest for days now, pressing and pressing until she couldn’t ignore it anymore. She’d grabbed her bag, brushed off a couple teammates asking about brunch in the morning, and walked straight to her car.

Typing the address into her phone without hesitation, she peeled out of the airport, nearly taking out a few traffic cones in the process. And okay, maybe, she wasn’t totally focused. It’s not that she was a questionable driver. Not that at all. Despite the teammates she caught doubled over with laughter in her rearview mirror. 

Azzi’s focus remained loose as she drove the streets of Seattle, until she turned down a road that made her pulse tick up. 

The familiar truck came into view at the end of the block, parked crookedly in the driveway. Typical. Azzi’s stomach twisted, but she didn’t slow down or hesitate. She turned the wheel and pulled in, letting the engine idle for a few seconds.

After pulling in a deep breath, she slipped out of the car, the rain immediately dotting her green flannel as she slammed the door and strode up the short walkway.

Her pulse was pounding in her ears as she reached the porch. She lifted her hand and knocked hard against the wood. 

No answer.

Azzi shifted her weight, blowing out a shaky breath as she glanced back toward the driveway at the truck again. Irritation flashed through her. 

“I know you’re in there,” she called, voice carrying through the door. She knocked again, a little louder this time, but not enough to seem completely crazy. Showing up unannounced at this hour was already bad enough. “I see your truck in the driveway.”

A few more tantalizing seconds of silence passed, then the faint sound of movement inside. Azzi crossed her arms, foot tapping against the damp wood of the porch. She wished she had an umbrella as rain dropped down the back of her neck and sent a chill down her spine.

The lock finally clicked and the door opened just enough for a sliver of warm light to spill into the dark night. Then it swung wider and Azzi found herself staring at a familiar blonde wearing a shocked expression.

For a split second, something in Azzi’s chest stuttered, the image aligning too easily with something else, someone else. 

Then Azzi’s gaze lifted, meeting wide green eyes, and her expression flattened. A dry, unimpressed expression settled over Azzi’s features as her brown eyes narrowed.

“Nice to see you again, Chloe.”

The woman blinked, clearly caught off guard, her mouth parting slightly before she recovered. “It’s Cindy.”

Azzi tilted her head just a fraction, a humorless smile pulling at the corner of her mouth.

“Yeah, I actually don’t give a shit,” Azzi shot back, tone laced with indifference. “Can you get the fuck out so I can talk to Mark?”

Cindy scoffed, her shoulders stiffening as her eyes flicked over Azzi and her face drew into a scowl.

Azzi didn’t bother looking at her anymore. Cindy wasn’t worth another second of her time. Her gaze had already moved past the blonde’s shoulder, landing on the man standing a few steps back inside the house.

Mark looked exactly how she expected him to.

Disheveled, shirt wrinkled, hair messy like he—or someone else—had been running hands through it too many times. There was tension in his posture, his jaw set with irritation. 

For a second, neither of them said anything. They just started blankly, a silent showdown unraveling between them. 

Cindy shifted uncomfortably, turning toward Mark, silently asking the question that Azzi already knew the answer to. This wasn’t a contest Cindy was going to win. Five years down the road, she probably still wouldn’t. He might be a complete asshole, but Azzi always did have a hold over him.

Mark exhaled through his nose, seemingly annoyed by his own inability to turn Azzi away. Then he gave a short, clipped nod and mumbled, “I’ll see you at work in the morning, okay?” 

The words were directed at Cindy, but his attention was already back on Azzi.

Unable to hide her growing annoyance, Cindy stomped to the couch to grab her purse, then back to the door to yank her pink jacket off the hook with more force than necessary, nearly taking it off the wall. The tantrum was comical, really. Azzi would usually have a good laugh about it, but she knew that as soon as Cindy was gone, things were going to get even more tense. 

Cindy brushed past on her way out, her shoulder clipping Azzi’s in a move that was far from accidental, and borderline hilarious seeing as Cindy was the one who had fucked her husband. But Azzi was a built WNBA player and she didn’t budge, instead holding her ground. And this time she really did let out a laugh when Cindy bounced off her into the doorframe.  

With an eye roll, Azzi stepped into the house as Cindy slammed the door behind her with a loud crack, the noise echoing through the entryway. Azzi glanced over her shoulder for a second, then let out an unimpressed breath as she turned back toward Mark.

“She seems lovely,” she said, stepping further into the room and shaking a bit of rain from her flannel.

Mark scoffed, dragging both hands through his already messy hair. It seemed like he was trying to pull himself together, but if anything, it made him look more unraveled. He looked like shit if Azzi was being honest, though she didn’t feel any guilt. This was his own doing. 

“What the fuck are you doing here, Azzi?” he snapped.

His tone bordered on hostile, but she didn’t flinch. While Azzi hadn’t been particularly surprised to find Cindy, or really any woman here, Mark was clearly caught off guard by her sudden presence. Despite the fact that he’d been trying to summon her for weeks. 

Instead, she turned fully toward him, throwing her arms out wide in a loose, exaggerated gesture.

“You wanted to talk so bad, Mark,” she huffed. “So let’s talk and get this over with.”

His teeth ground together, reaching to the end table next to him where a whiskey glass sat. He studied her over the rim while taking a sip of the amber liquid.

“You can’t just show up at my house,” he muttered, eyebrows drawn together putting creases in his forehead. 

Azzi pushed out a disbelieving breath, dropping her arms as she took a step closer. Like he hadn’t done that exact thing several times over the months. The only difference was Azzi had gotten better at slamming the door in his face. 

“You called my phone ten times in a row tonight. Seems like you really needed to talk.”

That set him off.

“You don’t get to just go and release a statement like that without even consulting me!” Mark shot back, frustration bleeding into every word. “Do you have any idea what that looks like?”

Azzi cut him off before he could build any more momentum, her already limited patience snapping.

“I stopped needing to consult you when you started fucking another woman during our marriage!”

Mark’s face twisted, anger flaring up instantly. Azzi knew that look all too well. It was one that had become quite common over the more recent years, and it wasn’t especially comforting. 

“And what, Azzi? You’re okay with just throwing our marriage away because I made a mistake?”

“A mistake you’re still making, Mark,” she laughed, pointing to the door Cindy had just exited for emphasis. “You clearly seem real shaken up about our marriage ending.” 

“I have needs!” he yelled, throwing his hands out like that justified anything.

Azzi actually laughed then, shaking her head incredulously as she watched the whiskey slosh out of his glass. 

“Oh my god,” she groaned.  

Azzi exhaled before glancing back at him. He looked dead serious, like that was a valid excuse for having his mistress over all the while he was begging Azzi for another chance. It was pathetic, and she wasn’t going to let him get away with it. 

“You know what, Mark? So do I,” she shot back. “Like a partner who actually respects me and can give me a goddamn orgasm.”

The reaction was immediate. Mark swore under his breath and slammed his glass down on the table, the whiskey splashing out in every direction and soaking the cream carpet. 

Azzi didn’t even blink, though she did wonder if coming here had been a bad idea. She wasn’t worried Mark would actually hurt her, he wasn’t stupid enough to do that. But she’d been subjected to enough of his drunk tirades over the years to know he was easier to manage in the daylight hours. Well, at least before Happy Hour struck. Still, she’d come here and set this chain of events in motion so she wasn’t going to back down now. 

“Seems like we both have our needs being met now,” Azzi said evenly, tilting her head just slightly. “So why don’t we just call it.”

That stopped him completely. Mark went still, the anger on his face shifting into something else, something madder. His dark, beady eyes narrowed back in on her.

“Who is he?” Mark demanded, his voice a low growl. 

Azzi waved a hand dismissively, knowing the question itself wasn’t worth answering.

“It doesn’t matter, Mark. Look at us.” She gestured vaguely between them, the space, the stained carpet. “This is never going to work. We’re both miserable, we can’t even stand to be in the same room, and honestly…” she exhaled, the fight draining just a little. “I want more for myself. More than you can give me.” 

He shook his head, stepping closer looking like a kicked puppy, holding his hands forward, grasping for something to hold onto. It certainly wasn’t going to be Azzi, who took a step back to keep distance between them. Not that she was worried about being pulled back into his orbit, but she certainly didn’t want to give him the impression that it was possible. 

“It wasn’t always like this,” he tried, his voice shifting and softening as if he hadn’t just erupted in a fit of rage. “We were good, Az. We were really good. I moved here for you. I left my family, my life, everything to support your career…” Azzi opened her mouth to respond, but the words caught for a second as she really looked at him. Not the version of him she’d been fighting with or the one that cheated on her or the one who showed up every couple of weeks banging on her door. Just… Mark.

He looked older and tired. But most of all, sad. The easy confidence he used to carry, the charm that had drawn her in all those years ago at UCONN, wasn’t there anymore. His shoulders sagged, his eyes dull from more than just the whiskey. Dejection had settled into his features, like something had worn him down over time. 

If Azzi was being honest with herself, she probably didn’t look all that different.

Somewhere along the way, they’d both changed. Maybe they held on too tightly in some places and not enough in others, but if Azzi really let herself think about it, it hadn’t just been one thing or one mistake. Cindy was the catalyst, sure, the reason she gained the confidence to make the step she’d been thinking about for at least a year. But in reality, their marriage suffered from a slow unraveling, piece by piece, until this was what was left.

Azzi swallowed, pushing out a deep exhale and she felt some of the anger fall away too. 

“I know,” she sighed.  

The words came out gently, cutting him off in a different way than before. Azzi nodded, bobbing her head a few times, her gaze trying to hold his wild eyes steady, trying to inject some calm into the situation. Holding onto the hate and animosity was only going to drag them both down. 

“I know, Mark,” she repeated, uncrossing her arms. “And I’ll always be thankful for the support that you showed me and the good times that we had. Because it was real and there was a time when you were my person.”

She paused and blew out a deep exhale through her nose. 

“But we grew apart,” she said quietly. “And this isn’t what I want for the rest of my life. It’s not.” Her voice turned firm again. “And no amount of talking or begging or threats or whatever you’re trying to pull is going to change my mind.”

She didn’t wait for him to respond. Instead, she turned, reaching into her bag and digging around before pulling out a thick stack of papers. The weight of them felt heavy in her hand as she stepped forward and dropped them on the coffee table in front of him with a flat, final thud.

“So please just sign the papers,” she pleaded, meeting his eyes again. “Sign them so we can both get on with our lives.”

Mark stared at them, his jaw working like he wanted to argue, to push back again, but something in his expression eased. Not entirely, he was still clearly on edge, but it was enough that some of the fight in him seemed to drain out.

“Who is he?” he asked again, more resigned this time.

“She,” Azzi corrected without hesitating. 

Mark’s eyes widened, something clicking into place behind them as realization set in. He’d always known she’d dated women before him. It was something Azzi had been open about when they first started dating in college so it wasn't new information. It did seem to make him less angry as his shoulders dropped a fraction. Azzi supposed it stoked his misogynistic ego. At least he hadn’t lost Azzi to another man. Which was a pathetic thought, but she was trying to placate him for the time being so she let it go. She chose not to tell him that Paige fucked her better and kept her more satisfied than Mark ever had.

“Is she good to you?”

Azzi nodded, holding his gaze. “She’s more than I deserve.”

Mark let out a quiet sound of displeasure, but it wasn’t mean this time. If anything, it sounded tired. Which was exactly how Azzi felt too. Tired of the hurt. Tired of the back and forth. Tired of the bullshit. 

“Don’t sell yourself short, Az,” he said, the fight finally gone as he turned toward the wet bar, pulling open a drawer and rummaging around for a pen. He found one after a second, tapping it once against the white marble counter before plopping down on the leather couch and dragging the papers closer.

“Can we at least put out a joint statement now that you’ve blown this all up?” he asked while flipping through the pages.

Azzi leaned back against the wall, arms folding loosely across her chest. “Yeah. I already have Amanda drafting something,” she said. “I kinda caught her off guard.”

“That makes two of us,” he muttered, eyes still scanning the documents.

“Well, imagine my surprise when Cindy opened the door this fine evening.”

He clicked his tongue, not bothering to look up as he started to sign. Page after page, initials, signatures, the scratch of pen against paper filling the quiet between them.

Azzi watched him in silence, feeling…strange.

Surprisingly, there was lingering guilt there. Sadness, too, threading through her chest. This had been her life. He had been her life. For years. And now it was ending in a series of signatures, documenting their failure in a rented house after the internet exploded with Azzi’s truth bomb. But underneath all of it, Azzi felt relief settling further into her bones with every page he signed.

He finished after a few minutes, sliding the stack back across the table toward her.

“I take it you’ll get these over to the lawyers?”

Azzi nodded, pushing off the wall as she gathered the papers and slid them carefully back into her bag. 

“Yeah,” she said. “They’ll be in touch.”

“I’m sure they will.” Mark nodded, heading toward the front door and pulling it open with little fan fare as she walked past him. “Take care of yourself, Az.” 

Azzi paused just briefly on the threshold, glancing back over her shoulder. Her eyes traced over his face one last time, taking in the familiarity of it, the history, all the things that had once meant something. Then she stepped forward and pulled him into a hug. Mark stiffed for a moment, but then she felt his body relax, arms wrapping tightly around her. 

“Take care of yourself too, Mark,” she mumbled before taking a step back and fixing his wrinkled collar one last time. 

And with that, she gave him a tight lipped smile, an amalgamation of the good and the bad and the ugly, and stepped back out into the rain.

The second the car door shut behind her, Azzi sank back into the driver’s seat, her head dropping against the headrest. A long, shaky breath that had been sitting in her chest for months finally broke free. Her fingers tightened around the steering wheel as she exhaled.

“Fucking finally,” she whispered.

The tears came a second later. Warm against her cheeks, the stream slipped down in quiet streaks, her breathing uneven. Her hands trembled slightly as she reached for her bag, pulling it into her lap and digging through it until her fingers found the papers.

She slid them out carefully, her eyes scanning over the pages until they landed on his signature. Her throat tightened as she stared at it, and the reality settled in. 

It was over.

A rogue tear slipped from her chin and landed on the page, leaving a faint, uneven mark as she let out a quiet breath. She didn’t even think to wipe it away. Didn’t care that her lawyers would see it later, that it would be there permanently, a small, messy reminder of how this all ended.

Azzi just sat there, staring at the pages, letting her mind drift.

Not to the end. No, she didn’t think about the anger or the shouting or the slow unraveling of everything they had built. She thought of the beginning, the version of them that had once made sense. Nights at Ted’s, dancing and drinking into the waning hours. Late nights on the couch with takeout containers scattered across the coffee table because they’d packed up everything. Cuddled in bed, laughing at something stupid while the Seattle rain pounded on the roof of their apartment. The way he used to look at her like she was everything. 

Despite the ending, the beginning had been real. At one point, it was good. Losing that still hurt, even now, even after everything that followed.

Azzi dragged the back of her hand across her cheeks, blinking hard as she looked down at the papers again. If Azzi was honest with herself, knowing what she knew now, she could finally admit what she had been avoiding for a long time—he had never been it.

There had always been something missing, something maybe she couldn’t name back then. She had pushed it aside because everything else made sense on paper. He loved her and supported her. He showed up when it mattered. He moved across the country.

But it had never felt like what it should have.

Azzi let out another breath, longer this time, as she set the papers on the passenger seat beside her and let her thoughts drift to Paige.

To the way Paige looked at her, the softness in it that Azzi hadn’t fully let herself lean into. The way Paige laughed. How she made everything feel infinitely lighter. The care she showed without Azzi even needing to ask for it. 

The way Azzi had left things between them made her heart hurt. Paige didn’t deserve that and Azzi didn’t want another minute to pass with Paige thinking Azzi wasn’t choosing her..

Azzi grabbed her phone, hitting her contact as she started the car and backed out of the driveway. It rang a few times before going to voicemail.

“Fuck me,” she muttered, immediately jamming her pointer finger into the call button again, as she took off on the dimly lit street.

Straight to voicemail again. Fucking great. Azzi was really feeling blessed and highly favored right now. 

She glanced at the clock on the dash and saw it was just after 9 o’clock. Maybe Paige was out. Maybe she had gone to bed early. Maybe she… didn’t want to talk? 

Azzi shook her head, pushing that ridiculous thought aside as she stepped on the gas, leaving Mark’s house far behind. 

Thankfully, the drive didn’t take long. Fifteen minutes later she pulled onto Paige’s street, the tightness in her chest easing a fraction when she saw Paige’s red truck sitting in the driveway. A warm light glowed from the living room window, a telltale sign that the blonde was up and probably watching tv. 

She barely brought the car to a stop before throwing it in park and pushing the door open. The rain was falling harder now, soaking her clothes as she jogged up the walkway. She didn’t care. 

Climbing the steps of Paige’s front porch, her pulse spiked, but she pushed down the anxiety and knocked hard against the door.

“Paige,” she called out. 

When there was no answer, Azzi knocked again with a bit more force. She felt a bit crazy. This was the second porch she’d stood on, banging on the front door unannounced, but that was something she could unpack in therapy another day.

She just needed to see Paige. To hold her and kiss her and tell her that she was hers. Completely. Openly. Unashamedly.   

Letting out a sigh of frustration, Azzi stepped to the side to peer through the curtain. She knew this was increasing her level of crazy, but whatever. A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. 

The living room looked as it always did. The lamp was on, everything exactly how she expected it to be, except for no brightly lit television. No Paige.

Without caring who might overhear, she knocked loudly again, urgency creeping into her voice. “Paige, it’s me!”

Still nothing.

Doubt began to slip in. Maybe Paige was ignoring her. Maybe she had seen her name on caller ID and decided she didn’t want to deal with it tonight. And honestly? Azzi couldn’t blame her. Not after how they’d left things, with Azzi not able to give Paige what she needed or even the reassurance she deserved. 

“Paige,” she called again, her voice more pleading and desperate. 

A door creaked open to her left.

Azzi turned, her body tensing as she spotted an older man stepping out onto the neighboring porch. His expression was cautious but not unkind as he looked her over.

“Can I help you?” he asked.

Azzi swallowed, again very aware of how this must look. Standing on someone’s porch in the pouring rain, banging on the door and shouting like she’d lost her mind.

Which, okay. To be fair, she had. 

“I’m… a friend of Paige’s,” she said, forcing herself not to laugh at how stupid that sounded. She was more than that, sure, but also, no one bangs on a friend's door in the middle of a storm late at night like this. “Do you know if she’s home?”

The man studied her for a moment, his gaze lingering as if he was trying to place her. Azzi braced for him to tell her to leave, or worse, to call someone, like the cops, because this was crazy. Lock her up in an asylum, honestly. 

Instead, his eyes widened slightly. “Are you… Azzi Fudd?”

That was certainly not the response she was expecting but it was infinitely better than the alternatives. She gave a small, almost sheepish smile as she nodded. 

“Yeah, I am.”

“And you’re friends with Paige?” 

She nodded again, laughing internally at the heady mix of disbelief and pride in his tone.

“Well I’ll be damned,” he chuckled, shaking his head, the skepticism gone now. “I’m sorry, but you just missed her.”

Azzi’s stomach dropped like the floor had disappeared. “What?”

“Her friend… Nina, I think? She picked her up maybe an hour ago. They carried out a big cooler, a couple duffel bags. Her little brother was with her too.”

Azzi exhaled, pulling her phone out and opening her calendar as the realization settled in.

Of course. 

The trip.

Paige must have left early, which Azzi didn’t blame her for. She probably needed space as the anniversary of her dad’s death approached. Probably needed space from Azzi too. 

“Oh,” she said quietly, trying to keep the complete disappointment from her tone. This poor man had already seen enough. “Okay. Thanks.”

The man nodded. “Yeah, she said she’ll be back in a couple weeks. Asked me to keep an eye on the house while she’s gone.” He hesitated for a second before adding, “Said she won’t really have her phone on her though so not sure how I’m supposed to reach out if anything happens.”

He let out a soft laugh, but the words weren’t funny to Azzi. Instead, they smacked her square in the chest.  

No phone. No way to reach Paige. No way to fix this for weeks. And she’d only missed her by an hour. 

The thought taunted Azzi. She had barely made it a week without Paige in her life and now there was nothing she could do to repair what had been broken. Worse, Paige was going to be dealing with the anniversary of her father’s passing, still thinking Azzi hadn’t chosen her. That she wasn’t enough. 

It was a nauseating thought. 

“Got it,” she finally managed, forcing a weak, “Thank you.”

He gave her a sympathetic look before stepping back inside, the door closing softly behind him.

Azzi stood there for a moment longer, staring at Paige’s front door. She sighed, then turned, the walk back to her car feeling longer as the rain continued to fall around her. It wrapped her in a blanket of chill, soaking into her clothes, her hair, everything.

All she wanted was to be in Paige’s arms.

But Paige was gone.

Paige knew that. She really really did. She thought about how crazy it was as she shoved the paint can back in the garage, before squinting at the windows wondering if she should get the squeegee out and clean those quickly too. 

Despite deciding against cleaning the windows, only, admittedly, because she didn’t have time to do it right, Paige made another lap around the living room. She stopped in front of the couch. The throw pillows were arranged neatly, but not too neatly, because too neat would make it look like she was trying too hard. And she definitely didn’t want that. But she fluffed one anyway, then the other, finally stepping back and assessing the arrangement with the intensity of Bill, the formidable home inspector she absolutely despised.

She decided the couch was passable, then moved back to the frames hanging above the console table, scanning them one by one. 

There was a shot of her and her and Drew and their dad at a summer cookout, the three of them grinning after a game of pickup. A picture of her and Nika on a hike, both of them squinting at the sun, merely an hour before a torrential downpour caught them. A group picture of her friends at a Storm game from a few years ago, Paige wearing her Fudd jersey with no idea of what was to come. Then, finally, one of Theo as a toddler, covered in spaghetti sauce, a goofy smile etched on his face. That one was crooked, or at least she thought it was. So Paige nudged the frame into a straighter line, even though no sane person would have noticed the difference. 

Paige noticed. 

Then again, Paige noticed everything right now.

And okay, maybe Paige was actively spiraling. But Azzi Fudd was coming over to her house. So. 

She dragged a hand through her hair and let out a deep breath, casting another look around. Paige liked her house, loved it most days. Her house was nice. That’s why she bought it five years ago. Tucked away on a cul de sac just outside the city, it was warm and inviting. She spent a lot of time and money fixing it up, though there were still a few half-finished projects she never got around to. Things that the untrained eye wouldn’t even notice, but to Paige, felt as obvious as holes blown into the wall. 

And, oh my God, Azzi was coming over. To her house. The thought just kept circling. 

Azzi, who lived in a stunning, historic home in the city where everything matched, and the pillows looked like they’d been bought from a high-end store, and the kitchen was a scene straight out of Architecture Digest. Azzi who had an interior designer on speed dial, and, if Paige was being honest with herself, probably a whole staff of people whose job was to make sure Azzi’s house looked great. Azzi, who had money and fame and a life Paige still didn’t fully understand, even after weeks of late-night texts and photos and calls started shifting into something else. Not that Paige knew how to define what that ‘something else’ actually was. 

Paige had told herself she didn’t care. She wasn’t the type of person who got insecure about square footage and furniture and whether her kitchen towels matched. The reality was, her brain was acting like Azzi would walk in, see a crooked pillow or scuffed baseboards, and file Paige into the category of ‘Women Who Are Not Worth Loving.’ It was wildly unreasonable. She was well aware. It was also just how Paige’s mind worked sometimes.

And okay, maybe she was fully losing it because Azzi wasn’t the kind of person who would judge a house. Paige knew Azzi had never once given off “snobby rich girl” or “I’m better than you” energy. Quite the opposite actually, she seemed to treat everyone with genuine care, which is part of what Paige found so endearing. 

And if Paige really let herself think about it, she wasn’t nervous because her house wasn’t nice enough, even though it was a little intimidating compared to Azzi’s. She was nervous because Azzi was coming over at all, and that felt like a really big deal. Especially since it was the first girl she had invited over, during the daylight hours at least, since… Elle. 

Paige wandered into the kitchen like she had a purpose. She didn’t. She opened the pantry, stared at the shelves of organized chaos, and shut it again. Then she opened a drawer, rearranged a stack of dish towels that didn’t need rearranging just because, and shut it with a thud.

Finally, she blew out an exhale and leaned both hands on the sparkling clean counter. The house was eerily quiet. She’d put an Olivia Dean playlist on earlier just to fill the space, but the music had ended and she hadn’t even noticed during her panic-induced cleaning spiral. 

Needing something to do with her fidgety hands, Paige tugged open the fridge. The steaks from the butcher down the street were on the second shelf, wrapped and waiting. They were expensive enough that Paige had made a face at the price but bought them anyway because she wanted tonight to feel special, not just a thrown-together meal. 

She pulled the package out and set it on the counter to rest, then glanced at the clock on the microwave. Azzi would be here in… thirty minutes. Although, probably more since she was notoriously late. 

Thirty minutes, give or take, until Azzi was standing in Paige’s kitchen, looking around, taking her in. Taking her house in.

God, Paige was nervous. 

She’d done dates before, wasn’t a stranger to romance. She’d been in love, hell, she was about to propose to Elle before that all went to shit. This felt different, though. It was the anticipation, sure. And the fact that their chemistry and sex had been incredible, honestly. Paige still wasn’t sure how it was possible for one person to be that sexy and also laugh at Paige’s dumb jokes like they were actually funny, but life was unfair and God had favorites, apparently. 

Still, it wasn’t only about sex.

It would be easy if it was only about sex. Paige understood sex. Paige excelled at sex. Loved sex, especially with Azzi. Paige could keep sex in a neat little box and set it on a shelf and pretend she was in control of it.

But Azzi didn’t fit in a neat little box, and Paige didn’t want her to. 

A few weeks ago, Paige would have said this was a fling. A convenient accident that started with a repair job and somehow turned into Paige learning the exact cadence of Azzi’s moans right before she came, the way she tasted on Paige’s tongue, the quiet, involuntary sounds she tried to swallow down indignantly when Paige pinned her somewhere. 

Paige had tried to keep it in that box, tried to convince herself it was mostly physical because that was safer. That was manageable.

But then something shifted the night after the Storm lost to Connecticut. The night Azzi had asked Paige to tell her about her day, and they had an interaction that didn’t center on flirting or teasing photos or getting each other off. And after that night? Things had hovered in a vague gray area. Azzi had started texting her about the stupidest things, like the bad coffee in the hotel or Sarah saying something completely unhinged on the bus. Paige had caught herself smiling at her phone in the middle of Home Depot, on job sites, while sitting at her kitchen table. And she’d started saving memes to send to Azzi or texting her little jokes throughout the day just to let her know she was thinking about her. Because… Paige usually was. 

Now, Paige found herself standing in her kitchen, thinking about what WNBA-star Azzi Fudd would say when she walked in for the first time. The thought made her stomach flip in a way that had nothing to do with sex.

And okay, it still had something to do with sex. Paige wasn’t going to pretend it didn’t.

She’d been fantasizing about Azzi in her bed since the moment they’d scheduled this dinner. She’d been imagining the way Azzi would sound when Paige kissed her slow, the way she’d melt when they finally had nowhere to be and no reason to rush. Some of the texts they’d exchanged over the last two days had been borderline criminal, and Paige had spent more than one afternoon trying to work with a perfectly straight face while her boxers were wet and her phone continually buzzed in her pocket.

But it wasn’t just that.

She’d also been imagining Azzi sitting at her table, drinking wine or beer or whatever it was that Azzi preferred, and laughing at her dumb jokes. She thought about Azzi kicking her shoes off by the door, and curling up on the couch under the throw blankets she definitely hadn’t washed and then put through the dryer with lavender essential oils twice. Mostly, Paige had been imagining spending time together that didn’t end with one of them slipping out, rushing off to one commitment or another.

She ran a thumb along the edge of the counter, scratching off a stray fleck of food she’d missed earlier in her cleaning spree, then forced herself to move. 

One more lap, she told herself. Just one more.

After a quick peruse of the living room, Paige tried to distract herself by getting changed, which was a hilarious plan considering she’d already changed twice. Once into something that felt too casual, and then again into something that felt like too much. Now she stood in her bedroom staring at her closet, weighing the pros and cons of every shirt she owned as if the wrong choice would fundamentally alter her future. And who knows, maybe it would. 

Her phone buzzed on the bed.

Paige glanced at it, expecting Azzi, and instead saw Marta’s name flashing across the screen.

She hesitated. Marta never called for no reason. On the other hand, Marta had the kind of uncontrolled energy that could turn a simple question into a full-blown hour-long conversation if given enough runway. Paige wasn’t in the mood nor did she have the time to be emotionally kidnapped tonight, so she let it ring.

She would call Marta back tomorrow. Tonight she had a date to focus on. 

Maybe. Probably? Paige still wasn’t entirely sure what they were calling tonight. Dinner at her house, with just the two of them, planned in advance and anticipated for days. If it looked like a date and smelled like a date—which Paige lit her ‘cozy summer night’ candle so it definitely did smell like one—it was probably a date. Paige just didn’t want to be the only one calling it that.

She was reaching for the hem of her shirt to change for the second time when the phone rang again.

She froze, hand still gripping her shirt. The second ring wasn’t Marta being annoying. The second ring was Marta being serious.

Paige snatched the phone off the bed and answered. “Hey, Marta.”

“Paige.” Marta sounded like she’d been running and was out of breath. Her voice carried none of the usual sarcasm or charm. “It’s Stewie’s mom. She had a heart attack.” 

Her voice cracked on the last word and Paige went completely still. Her brain tried to reject the sentence like it was just a bad joke. Maybe Marta was about to follow it up with, got you, and laugh into the phone. She could hope for that, at least. But the silence that followed was too heavy.

“Oh my god.” Paige sat down on the edge of the bed with a sigh. “Is she… is she okay?”

“I don’t know,” Marta said, and Paige could hear Stewie in the background saying something she couldn’t make out, the sound muffled. “The ambulance already took her. We have to go. Theo’s here and we can’t take him, and my mom’s out of town, and everyone else is—” She took another shaky breath. “Please, P. I’m sorry. I know this is last minute, but can you come watch him?”

Paige’s mouth opened.

Her first thought was absolutely awful. Immediate and selfish and so out of character it almost made her puke.

I can’t. Azzi’s coming over.

A reflexive flash of disappointment rose in her chest, so hot it almost bordered on anger. Not at Marta or at Stewie’s mom, just at the timing, at the universe for finally giving her something good and then snatching at it with both hands. But then again, Paige was used to it. Basketball. Her dad. Elle. 

And then the guilt hit her hard enough to make her regret even the millisecond of hesitation. 

Stewie and Marta were family. They were the people who always showed up, who had handed her Theo and told him, this is Aunt Paige. Paige loved them. She loved Stewie’s mom too, for opening her home and arms to Paige so many times over the years. 

More than that, Paige could hear the fear and desperation in Marta’s voice. Saying no wasn’t an option at all. 

Paige exhaled and forced her thoughts back into place. “Yeah,” she said, voice calmer than she felt with the nerves and bile fighting to claw their way out. “Yeah, no problem. I’ll leave right now.”

Marta’s breath hitched. “Are you sure? I know you had—”

“I’m sure,” Paige cut in, gentle but firm, trying to hold Marta together through the phone with sheer confidence. “It’s not a problem.”

“Thank you,” Marta whispered, and Paige could hear tears creeping into her voice. “Thank you, P.”

“I’m leaving now. Be there in twenty.” 

She hung up before Marta could say anything else, because if she stayed on the line long enough to hear her break, Paige might break too, and right now there wasn’t time for that.

Paige stood in her bedroom for a few seconds, phone still in her hand, staring through the skylight  like the wispy clouds might offer some divine wisdom, or better yet, an alternate option. Maybe this was something she could negotiate with the universe, keeping her dinner plans with Azzi and also being the person Marta needed.

Unfortunately she couldn’t, and Paige knew that.

She made her way down the hallway, into the living room, and blew out the candle flickering on the coffee table. The smoke curled upwards like a sad little funeral for the date that wasn’t meant to be. 

Then she turned toward the kitchen where the steaks sat on the counter, preparing for a night that suddenly didn’t exist anymore. Paige grabbed the dish, shoved it back into the fridge without bothering to cover it properly, and slammed the door harder than she meant to. The sound echoed through the quiet house.

For a moment she stood there, hand still on the fridge handle, staring at the blank stainless steel and letting the anger pass. 

Then she was moving again, grabbing what she needed and tossing it into her backpack. She slipped her Nikes on, not even bothering to lace them up, then yanked the door open, and jogged down the front steps to her truck.

Five minutes ago, Paige had been worried about throw pillows and dust and getting the perfect sear on some ribeyes. Now she was backing out of her driveway too fast, her heart in her throat, worry seeping into her bloodstream. And somewhere in the back of her mind was the thought of Azzi, and how their plans would have to be canceled.

The road flew past her windshield in soft streaks of streetlights and taillights, and Paige kept her hands at a very disciplined ten and two, trying to focus and keep her head from spinning. 

But the guilt sat high in Paige’s throat, like she’d swallowed glass. She couldn’t wait any longer, because like it or not, there was no way to salvage this. She hit the call button on the steering wheel.

“Hey, Paige!” Azzi answered so cheerily that Paige could actually feel her smiling through the phone. Great. “I’m running a few minutes behind, but do you need me to grab anything on my way over?”

Paige’s grip tightened on the wheel.

The excitement in Azzi’s tone made the longing surge so hard, Paige had to fight to swallow it down. She let out a breath that apparently sounded too much like a sigh.

Azzi’s voice shifted immediately, the cheer fading into alertness. “Are you okay?”

Paige absolutely hated the universe, with a passion, for denying them this night. 

“No…” she said quickly, tripping over her words. “I’m so sorry, but I'm going to have to cancel tonight.”

“Okay,” Azzi said. She didn’t seem mad, but the confusion in her tone was enough to rattle Paige even more. “What’s going on?”

Paige licked her lips, and tried to keep her voice from cracking. “Marta just called me,” she explained, the words tumbling out fast. “Stewie’s mom had a heart attack. They’re going to the hospital right now and they need someone to watch Theo. I’m on my way over there.”

“Oh…” 

Paige could hear the disappointment anyway, subtle but there. It made her feel even worse, which she hadn’t thought was even possible.

“I feel awful,” Paige rushed on, hoping if she said it enough times could change reality that she was cancelling on Azzi. Even if it was for a good reason. “I know we’ve both been looking forward to tonight and I…I had everything set up and then they called and—” 

She cut herself off, because she didn’t want to sound like she was comparing the two things. She wasn’t. But she was still human, and she still wanted Azzi, and she still hated that she had to cancel.

“Hey. Don’t apologize, Paige,” Azzi said firmly. “Your friends need you. I absolutely understand.”

Paige blew out a shaky breath, some—but not all—of the tension easing from her shoulders. “Thank you,” she murmured, eyes flicking to the speedometer and back to the road as she pressed harder on the gas. 

“Can we please rain check?” Paige asked, the hopeful part of her pushing through the panic. “Maybe tomorrow night? I’ll make it up to you.”

There was a longer pause on the line than Paige wanted, followed by a long drawn out sigh.

“I’m pretty tied up with team stuff the next few days,” Azzi admitted.

There was an apology tucked into her voice, even though Azzi didn’t need to apologize for having a life, a job. Paige’s heart sank anyway. 

“Right,” she said, trying not to sound crushed. 

She clearly failed, because Azzi followed up immediately with, “Are you okay? I’m sure it’s not easy to hear about Stewie’s mom.” 

“Yeah,” Paige said, because it was easier to lie. “I’m just worried about her,” she sighed. 

She stared at the stretch of road ahead, her throat tightening again. She could have left it there. She should have left it there, because now they were getting into uncharted territory. But something in her chest felt putrid, like if she didn’t say it, didn’t let it out, it would sit there and rot.

“And I miss you,” she added, quieter. “I’ve really been looking forward to tonight.”

There was a moment of silence that followed. Then Azzi’s voice came back. “I know,” she breathed out. “Me too, P. So much.”

Paige blinked again. She didn’t trust herself to say anything else, so she just filled her lungs with air, letting the quiet hang between them. It wasn’t awkward, but it felt loaded.

A few seconds passed, and then Azzi spoke again. “Can I…” She paused, clearly weighing the words carefully. “Can I maybe come help you with Theo?”

Paige let out a startled laugh, half disbelief and half something else. Because yes. The answer in her head was an immediate yes, absolutely, please, I want you here, but she also felt the urge to protect Azzi from the chaos she was about to walk into.

“Az,” Paige said like she was warning her, laughing softly as she shook her head. “Watching Theo is about the most stressful, least romantic thing on the planet. He’s like a rabid raccoon with no impulse control. That’s not how you want to spend your first night back. I know you just wanted a lowkey hang.”

Azzi’s laugh was immediate, because apparently Paige had handed her an opening she couldn’t resist. “Is what we were planning to do to each other after dinner considered lowkey?”

Paige snorted, the sound surprising her. No. Not even remotely. Their texts over the last few days had made it very clear that “lowkey” was not on the menu, especially with Paige’s recent purchase. She could practically feel Azzi’s grin through the phone, that knowing lilt in her voice that always made Paige feel like she was being dared.

“Well, no,” Paige conceded, trying not to smile too hard. “But still. Are you sure?”

Azzi made a thoughtful humming sound. “I’m sure,” she said. Then she added, smug and infuriating, “And you need the help.”

Paige narrowed her eyes even though she was alone in the car. “I most certainly do not.”

“You absolutely do,” Azzi said, like she was reciting a simple fact. “Didn’t you lock yourself in his room one time?”

“That was the first time I ever watched him,” Paige argued instantly, because she would defend her honor even if it killed her. Her delusion truly knew no bounds. “And it was Nika’s fault. I’ve gotten better.”

Azzi laughed again. “Right. I’m so sure.” 

Paige rolled her eyes and turned onto Stewie and Marta’s street, her pulse evening out a little, knowing she was close. “Okay,” she said, the word softening. “If you really want to, I’m not going to stop you. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“I want to.” 

“I’ll text you the address,” Paige managed, as she pulled into the driveway.

“See you soon,” Azzi said, and ended the call.

Paige barely had the car in park before she was out, slamming the door and jogging up the walkway, keys still in her hand.

The front door swung open before she could knock.

Stewie stood there in sweatpants and a crewneck, hair pulled back messily, her face pale in a way Paige had only ever seen once—Paige's freshman year, when Stewie found out at practice her dad had gotten into a serious car accident. Behind her, Marta was moving through the living room like a tornado, phone pressed to her ear, one arm already shoving a hoodie over her head as she walked.

“Thank God,” Stewie said, and it came out like a breath she’d been holding too long. Stewie’s eyes were shiny. Not crying yet, but close. She looked frazzled, which was rare for her. 

“I’m here,” Paige replied, reaching for her immediately. 

Stewie walked right into her outstretched arms, wrapping around Paige in a tight, desperate hug.

Paige held on, squeezing back, letting the brunette draw on her strength. “You guys just go,” she mumbled into Stewie’s mess of curls. “Don’t worry about anything. I’ve got Theo. I’ll handle dinner.”

Stewie pulled back just enough to look at her. Her hands stayed on Paige’s arms, not quite ready to let go. “Okay,” she said, and her voice wobbled. Then she drew in a deep breath, trying to shove the emotion back down where it belonged. “Okay. Remember, there’s no sweets after dinner.”

Paige nodded. “Got it.”

Stewie’s expression tightened with something that was almost a laugh but not quite. “And please don’t let him tie you to a chair again.”

Paige’s eyebrows shot up. “It was a joke.”

Stewie’s mouth twitched, but she shook her head. “Yeah, well. Nika won’t be here to bail you out this time.”

Paige opened her mouth to argue again, mostly out of habit, and then stopped. She rubbed the back of her neck, her toe digging into the ground. “Actually… um.”

“What?”

Marta appeared in the hallway again, hair messy, face pinched with worry. She shoved her phone into her pocket and started patting down the counter for her keys like they evaporated.

Paige hesitated, because she hated feeling like she was making anything about her right now. But she also didn’t want to just bring Azzi into their house and around Theo without saying something. 

“Well,” Paige started, clearing her throat again. “I was supposed to have Azzi over for dinner tonight.” The words felt strange in her mouth, admitting to something more serious than she meant to. “And when I called her on my way over to cancel, she… volunteered to come help… with Theo.”

Stewie stared at her blankly for a second. Marta, who had just found her keys and was shoving them into the pocket of her hoodie, stopped mid-motion and slowly turned her head like she couldn’t believe the words she just heard. 

The pause was brief, but Paige felt it like a hot spotlight.

“Is that… okay with you guys?” Paige asked, desperate for one of them to say something. “I can tell her no if you’re not comfortable. It’s totally fine.”

Marta stared at her like Paige had just said something wildly obvious and somehow still missed the point. “Girl,” she said, voice disbelieving, “she’s offering to help babysit now?”

Paige nodded. 

Marta’s eyes widened, and then she made a sound that was halfway between a laugh and a scoff. “Oh, she’s down bad.”

Paige felt heat crawl up her neck. “No, it’s not like that.”

Stewie, to her credit, didn’t laugh. Although, to be fair, she was exhausted and probably didn't have the energy to care about Paige’s romantic life at the moment. Which…Paige selfishly appreciated.

Marta, unfortunately, did not have that same restraint. She stepped forward, hands coming up to Paige’s shoulders like she was physically trying to shake the truth into her. “Paige,” she said, dead serious, “she likes you.”

Paige’s stomach flipped. “Marta—”

“No,” Marta cut her off. “Listen to me. You don’t offer to help watch a feral toddler for someone you’re just fucking.”

Stewie snapped her head up, eyes wide, scandalized. “Marta!” she hissed, gesturing to the living room. 

Marta waved a hand without looking away from Paige. “He can’t hear me,” she said. “He’s locked in on the TV.”

Stewie’s eyes flicked in Theo’s direction, then back to Marta. “Still,” she said, clinging to the last shred of parental dignity she had left.

Paige swallowed, fingers tightening around her keys. She didn’t really know what to do with the words Marta was saying, and she certainly didn’t have time to unpack it. She barely had time to breathe right now.

“So,” Paige said quickly, “you guys are cool with it?”

Marta’s gaze sharpened. “Of course it’s fine,” she said, like Paige was ridiculous for even asking. Then her mouth curved. “Just remember Breanna installed nanny cams in like every room in this house.”

Paige let out a laugh, wishing she had something to throw something at her. “Bro,” she said, shaking her head, “you are so unserious. Chill.”

Marta smirked as Stewie stepped forward again and pulled Paige into another hug, tighter this time. Paige felt her friend tremble on the exhale. “Thank you,” Stewie murmured. “Seriously.”

Paige squeezed back. “Of course. Now go.” 

Marta leaned over the back of the couch and pressed a kiss to Theo’s hair, her voice turning soft for the first time. “Be good, baby,” she told him, even though he didn’t look away from the TV. “Aunt Paige is in charge.”

Theo hummed something that might have been agreement as Stewie crossed the room and knelt in front of him, hands cupping his cheeks. “I love you, bud,” she said, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “We’ll be back as soon as we can.”

Theo finally glanced at her, brows furrowing as he tried to understand why her eyes looked weird. “Okay,” he said, quiet.

Stewie stood up quickly after that, and Paige knew she was worried about not falling apart in front of him. Marta grabbed her hand and they headed for the door in a rush, shoes untied, keys jangling, fear propelling them.

Paige followed them to the entryway, one hand already on the doorframe. “Take whatever time you need,” she told them. “Seriously. I’ve got it covered.”

Marta paused just long enough to look back, eyes glossy. “Text me if you need anything,” she said, voice cracking for the first time all night as she gave Paige a quick hug. Then she pointed at Paige and winked. “And if I see you on any nanny cam footage doing something questionable, I’ll delete it before Stewie sees.”

Paige laughed again, because it was either that or cry. “Go,” she said, waving them out. “Just go.”

Stewie squeezed Paige’s shoulder one last time, then they were gone, the door closing behind them with a final, heavy click.

Paige stood there for a second in the sudden quiet, listening to the muffled TV noise from the living room. Then she turned toward Theo, inhaled slowly, and prepared for battle.

She walked into the living room and lowered herself onto the couch beside Theo. He didn’t look at her.

Paige leaned her elbow on the armrest and studied the side of his face, the soft curve of his cheek, the way his lips were parted slightly in concentration. Her stomach twisted again, because even if he didn’t fully understand what was happening, he was still a tiny human who could probably feel the tension hanging in the air.

“Hey, buddy,” Paige said softly. 

Theo’s eyes flicked toward her and then back to the screen, barely acknowledging her presence. Paige nudged his socked foot lightly with her own. 

“You can finish the episode,” she told him, keeping her voice casual. “But then it’s dinner. Deal?”

Theo let out a dramatic sigh, like the kind Paige made when she had to pay her business taxes at the end of the year. It sounded overly dramatic coming from someone who still needed help wiping his butt. “Fine,” he muttered.

Paige nodded, somewhat satisfied. “Great. Thank you for that very enthusiastic cooperation.”

Theo didn’t laugh, but the corner of his mouth curved up, which Paige counted as a win. Small victories tonight. 

She stood up and wandered into the kitchen, rubbing her palms down the front of her jeans, trying to wipe the nerves off. The kitchen was spotless, but it was Tuesday, so their cleaner had been there. Paige opened the cabinets, knowing exactly what she could feed Theo that wouldn’t result in a full-blown revolt.

She didn’t have to look far to find the bright blue box of Kraft mac and cheese. Paige grabbed it, then opened the freezer, cold air spilling out. She immediately spotted the bag of chicken nuggets tucked beside a box of frozen waffles.

Paige put the nuggets on the counter as she got to work making dinner. She kept one ear tuned to the living room, listening in case Theo decided to launch a counteroffensive. This wasn’t her first rodeo. Thankfully, he stayed on the couch, locked in on Paw Patrol.

Paige tried not to think about how worried Stewie had looked. She tried not to picture them sitting in a hospital waiting room, Marta tapping her foot too fast, pretending she wasn’t terrified. It was coming up on the anniversary of losing her dad, and she couldn’t imagine Stewie going through that. 

The air fryer beeped, tugging her back to reality, and Paige shook the basket before putting them back in. She was just finishing the mac and cheese when there was a knock at the door.

Paige went still.

She’d been so caught up in worrying about Stewie’s mom and making dinner that she forgot Azzi was coming. Her brain rerouted her back to her own house; back to the candles and the steaks and Azzi showing up for dinner. Back to the version of tonight that made Paige’s pulse race for completely different reasons—the ones that involved wine and laughter and breaking the simmering sexual tension. 

Paige’s heart kicked hard in her chest, rattling against her rib cage, and she wiped her hands quickly on a dish towel, even though they were already clean. She walked to the front door with her stomach fluttering in a way that felt inappropriate considering the circumstances. She just couldn’t help it.

When she opened the door, Azzi was standing on the porch with a small bag slung over her shoulder. Her hair was pulled back, cheeks flushed like she had rushed over. Still, Azzi somehow managed to look put together. Paige supposed she just never had to try.

When their eyes met, Azzi’s soft pink lips curved into a smile. It wasn’t the teasing one Paige was used to from their previous encounters, though. Azzi looked worried too.

“Hey,” Azzi said quietly.

Paige’s throat went dry, and for a second, the awkwardness hit her all at once. Admittedly, this was a little weird. They’d been sexting and sending each other filth that would’ve made Paige’s teenage brain self short-circuit, and they’d been hooking up in stolen pockets of time, with not a whole lot of words. But now Azzi was here to help babysit a feral toddler in the middle of a family emergency. Maybe Marta was right, because this felt like what people did when they were… something. 

Paige didn’t let herself hesitate long enough to overthink it. She stepped forward and pulled Azzi into her arms. Azzi went still for a fraction of a second, then melted into it, her arms sliding around Paige’s back and clinging just as tightly.

The contact hit Paige like a deep breath after being underwater. She closed her eyes and let herself revel in the warmth, in the feeling of Azzi being here, with her, regardless of the circumstances.

“I missed you,” Paige murmured, the words slipping out.

Azzi’s answer was muffled against Paige’s shoulder, but it was there. “Me too.”

Paige’s hands tightened slightly as if she could imprint the feeling into her skin.

Then, from the kitchen came the shrill beep of the air fryer.

Paige jerked back, blinking like she’d forgotten where she was. “Shit,” she said, half laughing, half panicked. “The nuggets.”

Before she could second-guess herself, she leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to Azzi’s cheek. It was brief, but felt loaded anyway. Then, before Azzi could catch the flush creeping up her cheeks, she turned and hurried down the hall.

Azzi stepped inside behind her, closing the door gently as Paige whisked into the kitchen. 

After she spent about five minutes getting the mac and cheese dished into a bowl and the nuggets carefully arranged on a plate, Paige wiped her hands on the dish towel and called out, “Dinner’s ready!”

Nothing.

Paige frowned, then turned down the music playing on the kitchen speaker. With it lowered, she heard something else—laughter. The full body kind. 

It was Theo’s familiar laugh, high-pitched and breathless, but underneath it, a deeper laugh that Paige had come to know. 

She set the dish towel down and walked toward the sound, stopping when she reached the living room. Paw Patrol was still on the TV, but Theo wasn’t paying attention to it at all. He was in the middle of the room, feet planted wide, clutching a tiny basketball. His little plastic hoop stood near the couch, one of those mini sets that came with a flimsy net and backboard.

Azzi was crouched in front of him like she was guarding him in a real game, knees bent, hands out, body loose. Theo tried to dribble, he feinted left, then right, then took off toward the hoop with the confidence of someone whose mom let him win more often than not. Azzi allowed Theo to get two steps past her, then she slid in front of him, quick and smooth, and Theo shrieked with laughter like he’d been personally betrayed.

“No!” he yelled, giggling. “You can’t do that!”

Azzi grinned. “I can,” she said, voice playful. “I’m literally Azzi Fudd. Basketball superstar, remember?”

Theo gasped and Azzi took the opportunity to poke the ball away gently with an exaggerated flourish. He chased her, arms flailing, laughing so hard he could barely breathe.

Paige stood there watching as butterflies erupted in her stomach. Azzi could have sat on the couch and checked her phone while Paige handled everything like Elle always used to do. Instead, Azzi was in the middle of the living room, eyes bright, letting a toddler think he had a shot at beating her one-on-one.

After Azzi slammed it down into the mini hoop with the kind of dramatic force that made the entire plastic thing wobble before toppling to the ground, Paige cleared her throat and stepped into the room. 

“Alright, you two,” she called, leaning her hip against the doorway. “It’s time to eat some dinner.”

Theo jerked his head toward her, face flushed from laughing or the extreme workout he just went through. His eyes narrowed. “You didn’t tell me you were friends with Azzi Fudd, Aunt Paige!” he blurted, genuine outrage in his tone.

Paige was caught off guard for many reasons, mainly the emphasis on friends. “Oh, I didn’t?” she said, tone dry, because she was incapable of not being herself even when her internal organs were doing gymnastics.

Theo scrambled to his feet and pointed at Azzi. “She said she’ll get me an autographed jersey!”

Paige turned her gaze slowly to Azzi, one eyebrow lifting. “Did she now.”

Azzi’s cheeks turned a shade of light pink, but she didn’t look embarrassed. She just smiled at Paige and shrugged.

“I said if he beats me,” Azzi said, and her eyes flicked down to Theo with mock seriousness.

Theo didn’t wait for further discussion. The word dinner had finally registered and he bolted past them toward the kitchen, yelling, “Mac and cheese!” like a rallying cry.

Paige watched him disappear down the hall, then turned back to Azzi. The brunette started to follow, but Paige reached out, fingers around Azzi’s wrist, stopping her mid-step.

Azzi turned, brows lifting slightly, questions shimmering in her warm brown eyes. Paige tugged her closer, just enough to steal a quick kiss. It was soft and sweet and somehow more intimate, or at least more domestic, than anything they’d done with their clothes off.

When she pulled back, Paige kept her hand wrapped around Azzi’s wrist and leaned in just enough to murmur, “Thank you for this.”

Azzi’s gaze held hers, her smile turning faintly smug. She squeezed Paige’s hand once, before leaning back in for another kiss.

“What are friends for?” Azzi said, voice light, but her eyes and the lingering kiss still tingling on Paige’s lips said something else entirely.

Snorting under her breath, Paige shook her head, lacing her fingers with Azzi’s as she led them toward the kitchen, filling her in on everything.

Dinner went about as smoothly as Paige expected dinner with Theo to go. Which meant it didn’t go smoothly at all.

The mac and cheese was apparently “too cheesy,” and the nuggets were “not the right shape,” as if Paige had personally molded them by hand herself and they weren’t in the usual dino shapes. He ate three bites, said he was full, then immediately tried to slide off his chair and sprint back to the living room to resume Paw Patrol.

Paige put her forearm out in front of him and shook her head.  “Nope. You’re not done, mister.”

Theo’s eyes narrowed, a glower spreading across his face. “I’m not hungry.”

“You were hungry ten minutes ago.”

“Okay and now I’m full,” Theo shot back, dead serious.

Azzi, seated across from him, pressed her lips together, trying not to laugh. Her elbow was on the table, her chin resting in her hand, watching the standoff unfold. 

Paige shot her a look that said don’t encourage him. Azzi’s eyes danced with mischief, but she stayed quiet.

Theo folded his arms dramatically. “I’m done.”

Paige inhaled slowly through her nose. Stewie’s voice echoed in her head—no sweets after dinner— but Paige stared at Theo’s stubborn face and made an executive decision.

“Okay,” she said, tone casual, pretending she wasn’t about to betray her best friend’s one rule. “If you eat five more bites, you can have a little ice cream.”

Azzi’s head whipped toward her.

Theo’s eyes lit up like he’d just won the lottery. “Ice cream?”

Paige nodded, holding her hand up, fingers extended for emphasis. “Five bites.”

Theo immediately started shoveling mac and cheese into his mouth with renewed purpose, chewing like his life depended on it, eyes locked on Paige like she might change her mind.

Azzi leaned back in her chair, eyebrows raised. “No sweets after dinner,” she murmured, just loud enough for Paige to hear.

Paige kept her face neutral and shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Azzi’s mouth twitched. “I seem to remember Stewie and Marta saying it was their one rule...”

Paige shrugged, the picture of innocence. “And yet here we are.”

Azzi’s laugh was quiet, and fond in a way Paige refused to read too closely.

Theo finished his five bites with theatrical flair, slammed his fork down, and announced, “I did it.”

“You sure did,” Paige said, getting up to hold up her end of the bargain.

She spooned a small scoop of ice cream into a bowl and set it in front of him, throwing a sheepish look at Azzi who just shook her head in response. But fuck it, what Marta and Stewie didn’t know, couldn’t hurt them. 

Theo dug in, and by the time he was done ten bites later, he had a little smear of chocolate at the corner of his mouth and the satisfied glow of a toddler that knew they successfully manipulated two adults.

Paige wiped his face with a napkin. “Okay, bud,” she said. “Now you can play.”

Theo slid off his chair and immediately pivoted to Azzi, grabbing her hand. “Hide and seek,” he demanded.

Azzi looked at Paige as Theo dragged her toward the living room, like she was asking permission to be kidnapped, or maybe to be saved. Paige wasn’t sure, but waved them off all the same. 

“Sure,” she said. “Let’s burn off the sugar I definitely didn’t give him.”

Azzi smirked. “Bribery is a bold parenting choice.”

“I’m not parenting,” Paige shot back, following them. “I’m surviving.”

Azzi just laughed as Theo launched into a tirade of his very specific hide and seek rules. After a few rounds of Theo finding Paige and Azzi, Theo planted his hands on his hips and announced, “Now Paige has to look for us.”

Paige nodded. “Fine. Go hide.”

Theo grabbed Azzi’s hand again and started pulling her away. Azzi stumbled half a step, laughing. As Paige watched them disappear down the hall together, for a split second, her brain offered up an absurd thought that made her want to laugh—he’s trying to steal my girl.

Paige followed them toward the hallway, smirk playing on her lips, and Azzi glanced back at her over her shoulder like she’d heard the thought. The smug grin that crossed her face made Paige’s stomach flip, but Azzi just lifted one shoulder in a helpless shrug as she let herself be dragged away.

Traitor. 

Still, they had a game to play. Paige turned toward the wall, pressed her palms over her eyes, and started counting loudly. “One… two… three…”

Theo’s giggling echoed faintly as they ran. 

By the time Paige hit twenty, the house had gone quiet. She turned around, scanning quickly, and started her exaggerated hunt, the way Theo liked it. She checked behind the couch, then behind the curtains.

“I’m gonna find you,” she called out, making her voice spooky. “I’m gonna find you so fast.”

A small snort came from the hallway closet, and sure enough, when she tugged it open she found Theo and Azzi were crammed inside. Theo burst out laughing the second Paige opened the door.

Paige made a dramatic gasp. “I gotchu little one.”

Theo screamed and Azzi just peered up at Paige with that same amused look, eyes crinkled at the corners as Paige extended her hand and helped her out. 

They played a few more rounds before Paige’s eyes flicked to the clock and she realized it was getting late.

“Last game, Theo,” she warned, having learned he needed ample time to accept that the fun was ending.

He pouted, but nodded as he grabbed Azzi’s hand and dragged her away to hide. 

Paige stood facing the wall again, hands over her eyes, counting. When she hit twenty, she turned around and started looking.

She found Azzi almost immediately, tucked under the dining room table, knees drawn up, her face half-hidden behind the edge of the chair. She held one finger to her lips in a playful shush, but Paige pointed at her and laughed. “Really? Under the table? What is it, amateur hour?”

Azzi shook her head. “I was letting you win.”

Paige laughed under her breath and then looked around the dining room. “Okay,” she said. “Where’s Theo?” 

Azzi shrugged and they walked back into the living room together, scanning the area.

“Theo?” she called out.

Still nothing.

Her heart started to beat faster, her brain immediately running down every worst-case scenario. Theo was small. Theo was fast. Theo could get into literally anything if given a thirty-second window.

Paige moved back into the hallway, checking the bathroom, the laundry room, the coat closet. Her voice rose without her meaning it to.

“Theo, come on,” she said, forcing brightness into her tone even though inside she was kind of panicking while tearing through the house. “Game’s over. Come out.”

The panic hit her in a rush, even if slightly irrational. She pictured him slipping out the back door, climbing something, getting into cleaning supplies even though she knew those were kept locked away. Still, Paige’s mind painted horrors in vivid, unnecessary detail.

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Azzi said.

Paige shook her head, already moving again. “What if he got into something?” she said, voice tight. “What if he—”

“Paige,” Azzi interrupted, stepping into her path without blocking her completely. “He can’t leave the house. The doors are locked.” 

Paige swallowed hard. “You don’t know him,” she muttered. “He’s… he’s inventive.”

Azzi’s expression softened, but she didn’t panic with Paige. She stayed level, which Paige clearly needed. Then again, Azzi was used to keeping her composure in high pressure situations, in front of thousands of people. “Relax,” she said, nodding once. “We’ll find him together.”

Paige took a shaky breath. Azzi reached for her hand briefly, squeezing once, and Paige felt a rush of calm wash over her. 

“Theo,” Paige called, trying to keep her voice calm as they moved through the house. “This isn’t funny.”

When that was again met with silence from the usually giggly boy, Paige’s heart rose to her throat. She moved toward the pantry, yanking one cabinet open, then another. Azzi glanced toward the lower kitchen cabinets, where one was slightly ajar. She crouched, tapping the cupboard door lightly. 

“Theo,” she said, voice suddenly gentle and coaxing. “If you’re in there, you’re really gonna freak Aunt Paige out.”

For a second, nothing happened. Then the cupboard door creaked and Theo’s face appeared in the narrow opening, eyes wide and mischievous. 

Paige made a sound that was half sob, half laugh, and dropped to her knees so fast she knew there’d be a bruise on them come morning. 

“Oh my God,” she breathed, and before Theo could even fully crawl out, she was pulling him into her arms.

Theo giggled, wrapped his small arms around her neck like he hadn’t just shaved a literal year off her life. “You found me,” he said proudly.

Paige squeezed him tight, eyes closed, relief flooding her veins. “Yeah,” she murmured into his hair. “I found you, but you scared me, bud. Quit being so good at hiding, okay?”

Theo pulled back just enough to look at her, still smiling. “Okay.”

Paige wasn’t sure she believed him. Actually, she was sure she didn’t, but that was a problem for another day. 

She finally lifted her gaze over Theo’s shoulder and found Azzi watching them. Her expression had softened, a small smile on her mouth that wasn’t smug this time. 

Paige held Theo a bit longer than necessary and tried not to think too hard about the way Azzi’s smile made her feel. She already had too many thoughts swirling in her head, she didn’t need to add this to the mix. 

As Paige stood and announced it was bedtime, Theo reacted like she’d told him the world was ending.

“I’m not tired,” he whined, throwing himself to the ground. 

Azzi shot Paige a look, clearly assessing how she would handle yet another showdown. 

Paige just sighed, then softened her voice. “Sorry dude,” she said, crouching down so she was closer to his level. “You can stay up late for your moms tomorrow night but right now you gotta go brush your teeth.”

Theo’s eyes narrowed, but Paige held her ground. After a long beat, he sat up with exaggerated slowness, and finally dragged himself to his feet.

After at least double the amount of time required to brush teeth, Theo finally finished and spit in the sink dramatically. 

Paige nodded in approval, then pointed down the hall to his bedroom. “Time for jammies.”

Theo inched himself into his bedroom and immediately went limp again, collapsing onto the floor near his dresser like he had no bones. “I’m not going to bed,” he repeated, as if saying it another time would suddenly convince Paige. 

Paige stepped into the doorway and surveyed the room while Azzi hovered behind her. She smiled as an idea flashed through her head.

“Okay,” Paige said with a chipper tone. “Game time.”

Theo’s head lifted off the carpet a fraction. Paige knew him too well. He always was a sucker for games. “What kinda game?”

Paige pointed at his dresser. “The game where you try to get dressed in your pajamas before Azzi does ten pushups.”

Theo sat up completely now, interest sparking at the thought of a race. Then his eyes narrowed mischievously. He looked at Azzi, then back at Paige. “Fifty pushups.”

Paige didn’t even hesitate. “Deal.”

Azzi made a sound of immediate protest, sighing from the doorway. “Paige,” she groaned. 

Paige shrugged like she was helpless, and really, they were at the mercy of a tiny dictator so what choice did she actually have. “He set the terms.”

Azzi shot her a glare, but she dropped down onto the floor nonetheless. Despite having a cross-country flight in her bones that day, coming off a three game stretch on the road. 

“You’re ridiculous,” Azzi muttered.

Paige just half lifted a shoulder and smiled. “Gotta be creative sometimes.”

Azzi rolled her eyes and started banging out pushups like it was part of her nightly routine.

Theo shrieked with joy, scrambled to his feet, and yanked his pajamas out of the dresser. He pulled his shirt over his head so aggressively it got stuck around his elbows. Paige watched him fight with it, biting back a laugh, while Azzi kept going, counting reps, her hoodie bunching at her waist as she moved.

By the time she hit twenty-something, Azzi paused, blew out a breath, and tugged the hoodie up and over her head. The motion revealed the hard lines of her abs under the soft bedroom light, and Paige’s mouth went completely dry. Azzi tossed the hoodie aside and dropped back down in a short-sleeve shirt, and now there was nothing to hide the muscle in her arms as she kept going, triceps and shoulders working with each rep. 

Paige had to press her tongue to the inside of her cheek to keep her face neutral. She bit her lip again, because apparently her body didn’t care that they were in a kid’s bedroom and she was technically supervising bedtime. Azzi looked hot and it had been a week since Paige had her hands on her. 

Theo finally freed his arms, his gleeful shout pulling Paige’s brain out of the gutter. He shoved his arms through the sleeves of his pajamas, then hopped awkwardly as he tried to pull his pants on without sitting down.

Paige leaned against the dresser and watched Azzi, her chest doing that strange warm squeeze again. Azzi didn’t even look strained. She just looked fucking hot and Paige really wished Theo would just go to bed so she could find the two square feet of this house that there wasn’t a nanny cam on. 

Finally, he yanked his pants up and thrust his arms in the air. “I win!”

Azzi dropped her knees to the floor and sat back on her heels, breathing a little heavier now. She glared at Paige but there wasn’t real anger behind it. “You are never allowed to set terms again.”

Paige grinned. “It worked,” she shrugged. “He’s dressed, isn’t he?”

Azzi pointed a finger at her in warning, but there was laughter dancing in her warm brown eyes.

Theo scrambled into bed with a satisfied huff, burrowing into the dinosaur sheets. Paige pulled the blanket up to his chest and smoothed it down, but he didn’t even look at Paige. He turned his head toward Azzi instead.

“I want Azzi to read my book.”

Paige pressed a hand to her chest, feigning offense as she sank onto the bed. “Wow,” she said dramatically. “I see how it is.”

Theo giggled, then leaned closer to Paige, whispering, “She’s a literal superstar Aunt Paige.”

Not that Paige needed the reminder, nor could she litigate the point because he was one hundred percent correct. Plus, the sight of Theo lighting up around Azzi was doing something to her that felt too vulnerable to examine.

“You got that right,” Paige said, ruffling his hair as she watched Azzi pick a book from the shelf and climb onto the edge of the bed.

Theo immediately scooted closer, snuggling into her side like he usually did with Paige. Paige rolled her eyes as Azzi opened the book and began reading in the dim glow of the bedside lamp.

Halfway through, Theo glanced toward Paige with a serious expression. “Aunt Paige,” he whispered.

Paige raised her eyebrows. “Yeah?”

“There’s not a lot of room,” Theo informed her, like Paige hadn’t noticed. “Can you sit on the floor?”

Paige stared at him, then mumbled under her breath. “Oh, can I?”

Theo nodded loosely, his head bobbling, already snuggling back into Azzi like the matter was settled.

Paige shook her head, amused, but lowered herself to the floor beside the bed all the same. The carpet was soft under her legs, so at least that was one thing going for her as she watched Theo get cozier with her girl. And from down here she could see the curve of Azzi’s profile as she read, the way her eyes tracked the words, the subtle curve of her perfect lips.

Paige suddenly didn’t mind the floor. Not really.

She sat with her back against the wall, listening, letting the sound of Azzi’s soft voice fill the room. It was different than hearing it over the phone. Different than the low, breathless way it sounded when Azzi was in Paige’s ear, when Paige’s hands were on her and Azzi was trying not to make too much noise. 

Azzi finished the book after a minute and closed it gently. Theo yawned, a big one, and Paige felt relief roll through her like a wave. They were almost there. Almost at the part where Theo went to sleep and Paige could exhale, but more importantly, finally get a minute alone with Azzi.

Paige stood up and smoothed down her hoodie. “Okay,” she said, keeping her voice gentle. “You can listen to two songs. Then it’s time to sleep.”

Theo held up three fingers immediately. “Three.”

Paige shook her head. “Two.”

Theo looked at Azzi like she would negotiate for him. The corner of her mouth curled, but she stayed quiet, seemingly content to let Paige and Theo battle it out themselves. 

Theo sighed dramatically. “Fine,” he grumbled as Paige queued up his bedtime playlist. 

As the first notes bled from the speaker, Azzi slid off the bed and gave Theo’s hair a gentle ruffle. “Goodnight,” she whispered.

Theo smiled sleepily. “Night, Azzi.”

Paige slipped onto the bed, settling in next to Theo. “I’ll be right out,” she murmured to Azzi who nodded, gaze lingering on Paige’s face like she wanted to say something but didn’t. 

Paige watched her go, and two songs turned into three, because Theo somehow had the power to extend bedtime by sheer force of will. And then there was a request for the potty and then another for water. By the time Paige finally tucked him in for real, the room was dim and quiet and Theo’s eyes were heavy.

Paige leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Goodnight, buddy,” she whispered. “Love you.” 

Theo mumbled something sleepy in response, his small hand reaching for her for a second, before dropping back to the blanket.

Paige tucked the sheets around him carefully, turned on his sound machine, and stood there for a moment, watching his chest rise and fall until she was sure he was drifting.

Then she turned off the lamp, stepped out of the room and pulled the door shut. She tiptoed down the hallway quietly because she didn’t want to tempt fate after finally getting Theo to sleep. Thankfully, socked feet muted her steps as she plodded down the hall. 

When she wandered back into the main area, Paige expected to find Azzi on the couch, maybe scrolling her phone or half asleep with her head tipped back after an exhausting day of travel. 

Instead, Paige followed the faint sound of running water and found her in the kitchen. 

Azzi stood at the sink with her sleeves pushed up, shoulders relaxed, hands submerged in soapy water as she scrubbed the pot Paige had used. The soft overhead light cast a warm glow over the counter, over the mess Paige had left behind in the scramble of bedtime.

Paige stopped in the doorway, just watching for a moment.

It hit her in a strange way, the sight of Azzi in the kitchen doing something so ordinary. Paige had spent the last few weeks holding Azzi in her head as something bright and untouchable, the kind of person who existed on televisions and magazine covers and arena jumbotrons and in her phone. 

But here Azzi was, standing barefoot in a hoodie, washing dishes. 

A weirdly domestic feeling settled into Paige’s chest, a complex mix of emotions coursing through her veins because her mind drifted to Azzi in her kitchen, and Azzi washing dishes after them eating together. Not that Paige would actually let her but she could certainly try. Paige didn’t want to read too much into it though, so she crossed the kitchen in a few silent steps and slipped in behind Azzi.

Azzi didn’t startle or stiffen. She just hummed softly as Paige wrapped her arms around her waist and pressed her forward gently into the counter, enough to make her intentions clear. Paige lowered her face to the side of Azzi’s neck and kissed her slowly, letting her mouth linger and her breath warm Azzi’s skin.

Azzi’s hum deepened, a sigh of content slipping from her mouth as she tipped her head to the side in invitation, giving Paige more room. Paige smiled against her neck as Azzi rocked back into her, just enough to make Paige’s grip tighten.

“Mm,” Paige murmured, kissing the curve beneath Azzi’s ear. “You’re trouble.”

Azzi’s hands kept moving in the water, but her body melded into Paige’s. “Says you,” she replied, voice low.

Paige slid her hands down to Azzi’s wrists, fingers closing over them gently. She guided the pot and sponge out of Azzi’s grip, lifting them free like she was disarming her, then set them in the sink. Pressing her mouth back to Azzi’s neck, her voice turned soft. “You don’t need to do that, baby.” 

The word slipped out and Azzi went still for half a beat, before letting out a quiet breath and leaning back into Paige again. “I’m just trying to be helpful. I know you had a long day at work.”

And my God this was so domestic. Paige wanted to punch herself. 

Instead, she snorted softly against Azzi’s skin. “Coming from the woman who had a cross-country flight after a week-long road trip.”

Azzi’s laugh was soft as she dropped her head back against Paige’s chest. “It wasn’t that bad.”

Paige kissed Azzi once more, then loosened her arms, letting her go with reluctance, and trying to nudge her out of the way. She turned toward the sink to finish the dishes herself, but Azzi caught her hands before she could.

“No,” Azzi said simply, slapping her hands gently and grabbing the sponge. “Grab a towel,” she instructed, her tone leaving absolutely no room for argument. “You can dry.”

Paige stared at her for a second, then laughed under her breath. “Yes, ma’am,” she threw out with a mock salute.

Azzi’s smirk grew. “Love a woman that can take directions.”

Paige’s heart seized at the words, her mind glitching for a second because they both knew she would absolutely take directions from Azzi. Any and all. 

Now wasn’t the time to get into that though, so Paige just rolled her eyes and reached for a dish towel. She stood beside Azzi at the counter, close enough that their shoulders brushed. Every time Azzi handed her a dish, the feeling came rushing back. That unsettling warmth. Paige’s body was cataloging this as something it wanted, despite trying to keep it in check because she wasn’t sure it was something she could actually have.

She tried to treat it like what it was: a weird night, a one-off, a moment. 

But honestly, it didn’t feel like a one-off thing. Or maybe Paige just didn’t want it to be.

Azzi scrubbed, Paige dried, and the whole thing felt intimate in a different way. More intimate than the heavy kisses and wandering hands, even more intimate than the way Azzi had sounded when Paige had her pinned to a wall.

When they were done washing the dishes, Paige loaded and shut the dishwasher, leaning against the counter. Then she cleared her throat and opened the fridge, mostly to give herself something to do with her hands. “You want a drink?” she asked, keeping her tone casual.

Azzi glanced over her shoulder. “Sure,” she said. “A beer sounds good.”

Paige nodded, grabbing two IPAs from the top shelf. She popped the caps with ease and handed one to Azzi, gesturing toward the living room. “C’mon,” she said. 

Azzi followed her, walking side by side, both of them moving slowly like their bodies had finally remembered exhaustion existed.

Paige sank into the couch first, letting her shoulders hit the soft cushions and her head fall back for a second. The beer was cold in her hand, the living room dim except for the lamp in the corner. She let out a deep sigh that felt like it came from her bones.

Then she turned her head toward Azzi, who had curled into the far end of the couch with her legs tucked up, hoodie sleeves pulled over her hands. She looked tired in a way that made her seem even more human, although Paige hated that she was so far away.

Paige exhaled softly, a laugh catching at the end. “I love Theo,” she said, shaking her head like she couldn’t believe she’d ever volunteered for this job, “but I always forget how much work it is.”

Azzi’s smile broke across her face immediately. She lifted her beer in a small toast. “Yeah,” she agreed with a chuckle. “I feel the same when I watch Julien.”

“Before or after the shooting clinic that you put him through?” Paige said with a smirk.

“Fuck you,” Azzi laughed, palyfully nudging Paige’s knee with her foot. 

And Paige certainly had been trying to do just that before the universe intervened and kidnapped their night.

Instead of responding to the loaded statement, Paige took a sip of her beer and let the bitter bite settle on her tongue. Azzi shifted beside her, adjusting her position on the couch. The movement was small, but Paige tracked it anyway, hyperaware of the way she subconsciously shifted closer. 

Azzi stared at the floor for a second, then lifted her gaze and asked, almost casually, “Do you want kids one day?”

The question landed like a stone in still water, sending ripples through Paige’s brain. She blinked, caught completely off guard. It wasn’t that she hadn’t thought about it. Paige had thought about everything, usually at three in the morning when her brain turned into a disaster machine and she couldn’t shut it off. But it was the way Azzi said it that was most unsettling. 

She swallowed, trying to keep her face neutral even as her mind scrambled. “Uh… Yeah. I definitely do.”

Azzi’s eyes stayed on her, steady and attentive. Then she nodded in understanding. 

Paige shrugged, rolling her beer bottle between her palms. “I always pictured having kids. Maybe two or three,” she admitted. “I don’t know about right now,” she added dryly, “but… yeah. Definitely one day.”

Azzi nodded again and Paige tried really hard not to think about what it meant that Azzi wanted to know. 

Paige glanced at her. “What about you?”

Azzi didn’t answer right away.

She brought her beer to her mouth, took a sip, and stared at the bottle. The quiet stretched, heavy with something unspoken.

“Yeah,” Azzi said finally. Her voice sounded a little different now, less playful. “I do.”

Paige’s stomach tightened at the way Azzi’s eyebrows knitted together like she was in deep thought. 

Azzi took another sip. “A couple years ago, Mark and I were actually trying.”

Paige hated the name Mark the way she hated nails on a chalkboard and a last minute shot rimming out. Most of all, she hated the thought of someone who didn’t deserve Azzi having that kind of history with her. Paige kept her face calm anyway, because she wasn’t going to make this about her jealousy when Azzi was opening up. 

Still, the bitterness hit the back of Paige’s throat like a second swallow of IPA.

Azzi’s fingers tightened around the bottle. “But it just wasn’t in the cards for us,” she continued, voice tight, almost measured. “And then… he stopped really trying… in all facets of our marriage.” Her mouth twisted slightly as she chewed the inside of her cheek. “So I took that as a sign and just put it on the back burner.”

Paige watched her, gut churning, wanting to reach across the couch, pull Azzi into her lap, and tell her she deserved so much better than someone who made her feel like that. 

Azzi exhaled, shaking her head. “In hindsight, I’m glad it never happened,” she added quietly. “Because I wouldn’t want to be saddled with him for the rest of my life.”

Paige nodded slowly. Her jaw ached from how hard she was clenching it, trying to keep her true thoughts on the matter in.

“How is that all going?” Paige asked after a beat, carefully, like she was stepping onto thin ice. “The divorce and all.”

She tried to keep her voice neutral, but was pretty sure she failed. There was an edge in it that Paige couldn’t fully sand down. She wanted Azzi free. She wanted her untethered from a man who didn’t appreciate her or deserve her. She wanted her available in a way Paige didn’t even know how to ask for yet.

Azzi shrugged one shoulder like the whole thing was annoying rather than life-altering. “No new developments,” she said. “Just Mark being an asshole still.”

Paige’s lips pressed together. She wanted to ask more; what that meant, what it looked like, what Azzi needed, how Paige could help. But she also knew there were lines she didn’t have the right to cross yet. They were still figuring out the shape of each other and what this really was. Paige didn’t want to push too hard and make Azzi retreat.

So she swallowed the questions and instead said the truest thing she could think of.

“I’m glad you didn’t…” Paige murmured, voice low.

“Didn’t what?” Azzi hummed, eyes on the label of her bottle. 

“Have a kid with him.”

Azzi’s gaze snapped to Paige’s, and Paige held it, even though her chest was pounding, and didn’t pull the words back. Because she was glad. She was selfishly, fiercely glad Azzi wasn’t tied to Mark forever. Paige didn’t want to share Azzi with him in any capacity. She didn’t want him to be a permanent thread through Azzi’s life.

She wanted Azzi tied to her.

The thought came unbidden, loud in Paige’s head, vivid enough that it made her stomach do a few sommersalts. A house. A family. A kitchen where they washed dishes together after bedtime, where Paige kissed Azzi’s neck and Azzi laughed and swatted her away after a long day of work. Paige could see it so clearly it scared her, a redo of tonight a thousand times over but with the life they built together. 

Paige didn’t know how to ask for that, though. So she didn’t.

She just held Azzi’s gaze and tried to read what was in her eyes, tried to figure out if Azzi was thinking anything even remotely similar or if Paige was alone in her delusion.

Finally, Paige cleared her throat, the moment stretching too long as she fumbled for a way out of this seriousness. “Thank you again,” she said, forcing her voice lighter, like she hadn’t just imagined a future between them that Azzi was not even remotely aware of. “For tonight. I’m sorry things got derailed. I know it wasn’t exactly what either of us were planning.”

A small smile curled onto Azzi’s lips. “Don’t apologize,” she said immediately, waving her off.

Paige opened her mouth to argue out of habit, but Azzi kept going.

“I know how much they mean to you,” Azzi said, her tone steady and sure. “And it says a lot about you that you always show up for the people you love.”

Paige’s heart stuttered.

The people you love.

She tried to tell herself it was a normal phrase. But truthfully, the way Azzi said it felt weighted. Paige didn’t get a chance to respond, which she was honestly grateful for, not sure that anything that slipped from her lips would be anywhere near coherent.

Azzi reached over, took Paige’s half-empty beer right out of her hand, and drank the rest of it in one easy chug. Then, she set their bottles on the coffee table with a soft clink, and shifted her body toward Paige.

Before Paige could even process what was happening, Azzi climbed onto her lap, knees bracketing Paige’s hips, straddling her with undeniably sexy confidence. Paige’s hands lifted automatically, finding Azzi’s waist easily.

Azzi looked down at her, eyes dark and searching, smirk tugging at her lips as her thumb traced Paige’s bottom lip. “If you really want to thank me, though, I can think of a few ways…” 

The playful note was gone now, replaced by something edgier. All she could do was swallow down the dry knot in her throat, fingers tightening at Azzi’s sides.

The night had been nothing like they planned, but Azzi didn’t give Paige time to overthink anything.

Azzi leaned in first, closing the space between them with a kiss that felt like she’d decided they’d spent enough time talking. Paige’s hands pressed into Azzi’s waist, and the soft pressure of Azzi’s body molded to hers made Paige’s brain short-circuit in the exact way it always did around Azzi. It didn’t matter how tender the conversation had just been. It didn’t matter that they’d been talking about kids and divorce and futures Paige wasn’t ready to name.

Azzi kissed like she was desperate for it. 

Paige groaned quietly into it, tugging Azzi closer. Azzi shifted on her lap and Paige’s palms slid down, finding the curve of Azzi’s ass through the soft cotton of the sweats, squeezing. Azzi made a soft sound against Paige’s mouth and rocked forward just enough to make Paige’s pulse spike.

Paige’s thoughts scattered, messy and hungry, but one stupid practical thought cut through the haze like a neon warning sign.

Nanny cams.

Marta’s voice echoed in her head about the nanny cams she knew were scattered throughout the house. 

Paige half laughed into Azzi’s mouth, breathless, as if the absurdity might save her from the fact that she was about to become blackmail material in her best friend’s living room. She tried to pull back just enough to say something, but Azzi chased her, kissing her harder, hands sliding up Paige’s neck, fingers tangling lightly at the base of her hair.

Paige gave up, not that she really tried to fight the urge or that she physically could when Azzi was sitting in her lap like that, and kissed her back like she intended to make good on the promises they’d made to each other over text the last few days. 

It got sloppy fast, the kisses turning frantic and messy enough to make Paige forget there was a world outside this couch and this girl straddling her. Azzi’s mouth was warm and insistent, and Paige couldn’t stop her hands from roaming, one palm sliding beneath the hem of Azzi’s hoodie, skin hot under her fingertips.

Azzi pulled back just enough to breathe, their foreheads touching.

Paige’s eyes flicked to Azzi’s mouth, swollen and shiny. Her own heartbeat was a loud, ridiculous thing in her ears.

“You’re going to get us arrested,” Paige murmured, and it came out rough, half a joke and half a plea.

Azzi smiled like she liked the idea. “For what?”

“For indecent exposure,” Paige shot back, fingers slipping under the back of Azzi’s sweatpants to meet lace. “They got nanny cams.”

Azzi laughed softly, shrugged, then kissed her again, deeper, and Paige lost her train of thought entirely. 

For a few perfect seconds, it felt like they might actually get away with it. Like Theo would stay asleep and the night would finally tilt back into what it was supposed to be—Paige and Azzi, alone in the quiet. Her mind raced ahead to all of the obscene things she could do to Azzi to make up for the week they lost. Things she’d trade a week of babysitting for if Marta promised to delete the nanny came footage before Stewie found it.

Then, because the universe literally could not get the fuck out of her way tonight, the hallway door creaked open.

The sound was quiet, but Paige heard it like a gunshot.

She froze so fast her body went rigid under Azzi. Azzi seemed to sense the shift instantly, pausing mid-kiss, brows drawing together in confusion.

And then… little feet, barefoot on the hardwood, running down the hall. 

Paige’s eyes went wide. Azzi barely had time to blink before Paige’s hands were guiding her off her lap with urgent, frantic speed, all but tossing her sideways onto the couch cushions in a not-gentle, extremely unromantic, heave. Azzi landed with a surprised huff, eyes still wild. 

Paige wiped her mouth hard with the back of her hand trying to erase the evidence. She sat up straight in record time, smoothing down her clothes just as Theo appeared in the doorway, pajamas rumpled and very awake, clutching his blanket in one fist.

“I can’t sleep,” he whined. 

Paige’s heart was pounding so hard she could barely hear him over it. She forced her face into something calm, something normal, even though her lips were still tingling and Azzi was right beside her, breathing a little too fast.

“You can’t?” Paige repeated, like this was not the most predictable outcome in the history of babysitting.

Theo shook his head solemnly. “No. I tried.”

Paige glanced at Azzi, who was still slightly wide-eyed, hoodie crooked, cheeks flushed, hair messy in a way Paige would’ve liked to appreciate under different circumstances. Azzi’s mouth curved like she was fighting a laugh.

Paige narrowed her eyes at her, a silent warning of do not encourage this.

Theo trudged over to the couch, climbing up without waiting for permission. Paige knew immediately it was a losing battle. Theo had tasted victory tonight. He had eaten ice cream after dinner. He had made Azzi Fudd do pushups. He was not going to be easily defeated and there really wasn’t any point in trying.

Paige exhaled, resigned. “Okay,” she sighed, scooching over. “Come here.”

Theo crawled between them without hesitation and Paige reached for the throw blanket draped over the armrest and pulled it around him, tucking it at his sides. Azzi shifted closer too as Paige grabbed the remote and scrolled until she found his favorite movie.

She hit play and Moana filled the screen. Theo immediately settled, his body relaxing as the opening music started. He scooted closer until his head ended up in Paige’s lap and Paige’s hand found his hair automatically, fingers combing through it in slow, soothing strokes.

Her other arm lifted and draped around Azzi’s shoulders, pulling her in just slightly.

Azzi smiled and leaned into the contact, her head tipping toward Paige, her body pressing close as she pulled Theo’s legs onto her lap. 

Paige stared at the TV for a moment before pulling her gaze away. She looked down at Theo’s face, soft and sleepy now, lashes already drooping. Then she glanced at Azzi, tucked against her side, eyes on the screen but expression distant.

It was such a strange picture. Paige, in her best friends’ living room, a child that wasn’t hers sprawled in her lap, a woman she was trying not to fall for tucked into her side, Moana playing in the background.

Her throat went dry again. She kept stroking Theo’s hair, kept her arm around Azzi, and let herself sit in the moment without trying to ruin it with questions or fear or what-ifs.

Those were problems for another day.

Because as Theo’s breathing evened out and Azzi’s head dropped onto her shoulder, Paige realized—quietly, almost reluctantly—that this might be the happiest she’d ever been.

Of the arm draped over her waist and the heat pressed firmly against the subtle curve of her back. Paige’s chest rose and fell evenly behind her, evidence of deep sleep, and Azzi felt it press against her shoulder blade with every breath. 

Azzi sighed in bliss, shifting to settle further back into Paige’s warmth. The movement earned her a small murmur, and a sleepy adjustment in return. Paige’s arm tightened around her middle, pulling her closer without fully waking. 

The movement curled Azzi’s lips into a smile. God, she’d missed this.

Not just Paige, though that was obviously a given. She missed this feeling of contentment. The ability to just exist, of feeling… safe. 

The word circling in her groggy mind caught Azzi off guard a bit. She hadn’t realized how long it had been since she’d actually felt that. Certainly not in years, which was really a bit pathetic if she let herself think about it. 

There was a brief feeling of security when Mark moved across the country with her after she got drafted. A wedding followed not even a year later—the start of their future, Mark had said. That was short lived, though, when the fights started breaking out and the trust eroded during her second season with Seattle.

And she had fought. Fought him. Fought for him. Fought for them. But then she’d just stopped fighting. Stopped caring, really, resigned to let the numbness creep in and settle deep in her bones because it was admittedly much easier. 

Her fingers drifted absentmindedly over the back of Paige’s veiny hand where it rested against her stomach, tracing along her knuckles, minding the cuts and scrapes residing there. She briefly wondered where they came from, what job Paige had gained them at, or maybe they were from her time in the woods over the last week. It was hard to know. 

Behind her, Paige made a soft sound, a mix between a hum and a sigh. It Azzi smile and tuck herself back into the blonde. She was perfectly content to stay wrapped up in this quiet little bubble for as long a possible. 

The outside pressures and threats and responsibilities didn’t exist in the confines of her bed. At least, it certainly felt that way with Paige draped around her, holding tight. 

She was safe, shielded from all of it.

So Azzi let her eyes fall closed again, her body melting deeper into the mattress, into Paige, into the moment she wished could stretch on forever and ever and ever. 

Her breathing slowed, syncing unconsciously with the rising and falling chest behind her, and before Azzi realized it, she drifted off again. 

Azzi woke the second time just as gently, from feather light touches trailing up and down her arm. They were barely there, the motion unhurried, Paige’s fingertips brushing over the same path again and again, sending goosebumps popping across her arm.

Her brows pulled together as she came to, stretching her body subtly against the soft cotton sheets, her mind catching up piece by piece.

Then, she felt a kiss, pressed softly at her temple. Followed by another. 

A deep breath left Azzi as she shifted in Paige’s arms, rolling just enough to turn toward the blonde. The movement loosened Paige’s hold for a second but she quickly adjusted, her hand sliding from Azzi’s hip to her back to keep her close.

Azzi blinked her eyes open and was met with the most beautiful sight. 

Paige was already looking at her, propped half-up on one elbow, golden hair tousled in every direction. Her blue eyes were softer than Azzi was used to seeing them, still hazy with sleep, and her mouth tipped into that familiar, lopsided grin that always disarmed Azzi. 

It was unfair, honestly, that she could look like that without even trying. Straight out of sleep. God just had favorites apparently. 

“Good morning, beautiful,” Paige murmured, her voice raspy like she hadn’t fully woken up either.

Before Azzi could respond with anything but a goofy smile, Paige leaned in, pressing another kiss to her temple before tucking Azzi back into her chest. Azzi let herself be pulled, not having the energy or the inclination to fight it. 

“Morning,” Azzi mumbled, brushing her lips over the warm skin of Paige’s neck, fighting the urge to sink her teeth in.

Paige let out an amused sound and her hand started moving again. This time with steady strokes up and down Azzi’s back, leaving a trail of heat. Head laying on Paige’s chest, Azzi let her fingers trace lazy circles along the soft skin of her arm, enjoying the hum of satisfaction that rumbled from Paige’s chest. 

They stayed like that, relishing being wrapped in each other’s warmth again, but Azzi knew both of them were keenly aware of everything they hadn’t said yet, the things they needed to say. 

Saying them would break this perfect little bubble, though, and Azzi wasn’t in any hurry to do that. It seemed Paige wasn’t either, as her other hand slipped under the hem of Azzi’s shirt, slowly scraping against her abs before dipping lower.

Azzi’s stomach flipped, her fingers slowing against Paige’s arm, digging in slightly.

“I missed you, baby,” Paige whispered, voice no longer full of sleep as she teased along the waistband of Azzi’s boxers. 

Yeah. They definitely needed to talk. Obviously. Preferably before she lost the ability to form words. Although the post-orgasmic high might make it easier…

No. 

No. 

With all of the will power she possessed, Azzi grabbed Paige’s hand and stilled her movements. She tilted her head back and met a pair of hazy blue eyes. 

“We should talk, P.”

It wasn’t phrased as a question, but her tone certainly left some room for negotiation. Azzi wasn’t really sure she had the will power to resist, should she meet even the slightest hint of resistance. 

Paige hummed low and noncommittal and pulled her hand back. Though some would call it a groan, it was an agreement, technically, just not an enthusiastic one. Azzi certainly couldn’t blame her.

There was a brief pause, like Paige was seriously considering whether or not to push her luck, and then her hand slid up Azzi’s back, fingertips curling at the nape of her neck as she nudged her chin upward.

“Fine, but first things first…” 

Azzi barely had time to process it before Paige’s lips were on hers.

It started soft enough, with the gentle press of their lips. Then Paige leaned back in, chasing Azzi’s lips and the shift was immediate. They’d been held back for too long, the resistance between them snapping easily like a dry-rotted rubber band. Azzi felt like she was on fire.

Paige’s hand tightened in Azzi’s hair, and Azzi moaned as Paige licked into her mouth. Her hand came up instinctively, gripping desperately at Paige’s cutoff, fingers curling into the soft fabric of the Carhartt shirt as she let herself get lost in the kiss. Paige’s lips were softer than she remembered, but she kissed Azzi hard, like she was trying to make up for the lost weeks in a single moment.

It sent something electric shooting down Azzi’s spine. She wanted more. Then again, she always wanted more when it came to Paige, so she shut out the thoughts in her head that they needed to talk, and let herself feel it fully. The heat, the pull, the way Paige’s hand slid from her neck down her back, settling on her ass, fingers digging in like she wasn’t going to let Azzi go anywhere.

“Lemme make you feel good, baby,” Paige whispered against her lips.

The words broke the spell and Azzi finally forced herself to press a hand against Paige’s chest. She pulled back, her breath uneven and her boxers absolutely soaked.

Paige didn’t retreat right away, just hovering there, and Azzi could feel her racing heart beating against her palm. 

The blonde was flushed, lips and a little swollen, and her hair was even more of a mess. Paige looked good, though. Which was annoying because it made it even harder for Azzi to say the next words. 

“Talking,” Azzi reminded, heart hammering in her chest in a rhythm she was sure matched the frenzied one she felt against her palm. “Remember?”

Paige blinked slowly, like she was being pulled back into the same reality. Flush crept up her neck, spreading across her cheeks as she leaned back slightly.

“Right,” she said, loosening her grip on Azzi as she blew out a shaky breath. “Right. Talking.” She nodded slowly, probably trying to convince herself. “That’s definitely what we should do.”

Azzi laughed as she shifted, pushing herself onto her elbows before swinging her legs over the side of the bed. If she stayed there any longer, the conversation they desperately needed to have was not going to happen any time soon.

She had just planted her feet on the plush gray carpet when there was a rustle of sheets behind her, followed by long fingers wrapping gently around her wrist. 

Azzi glanced back to catch the sly grin on Paige’s face. Before she could ask what she wanted, Paige tugged with just enough force to pull Azzi back into the bed, landing half on top of her again as Azzi  shrieked.

“Paige!” she warned, though there was literally no bite in the words. 

Paige just smiled with that same cocky, infuriating grin that always managed to rile Azzi up a little. “Just one more,” she pleaded, leaning up for another kiss. 

It was a quick peck this time, but Azzi’s heart fluttered all the same. Paige pulled back on her own accord this time. 

“Thanks, baby,” Paige murmured against her mouth.

Azzi stared at her, a little disoriented, struggling to keep up with the whiplash of the many versions of Paige Bueckers that morning. Soft Paige. Endearing Paige. Sexy Paige. Cute Paige. Confident Paige.

Paige. Paige. Paige. 

And then Paige was gone, sliding out from under her and hopping off the bed like she hadn’t just had Azzi unraveling, stretching her long, lanky arms over her head as she headed toward the bedroom door.

“I’m gonna start some coffee for us,” she tossed over her shoulder casually, glancing back once more with a dopey grin before disappearing into the hallway.

Azzi stayed exactly where she was, staring at the doorway pretending she wasn’t rendered incapable of speech by the sight of the blonde in boxers and a faded cutoff tank top. Which meant, admittedly, she was lying to herself. 

Then she dropped against the pillows with a groan, dragging a hand over her face.

Yeah.

They definitely needed to talk. Preferably quickly because Azzi was feeling less and less capable of standing on business. 

She lingered in bed for another minute, soaking up the remaining warmth and the intoxicating smell of Paige on her pillow before heading to the en-suite bathroom. 

The light flicked on, bright but not harsh—thanks to the dimmers Paige had installed a month ago—and Azzi peered at her reflection in the mirror before stepping closer to the sink. Her hair was a mess, sleep-tousled and sticking up in different directions, her face still a little flushed, her eyes filled with fog from not enough sleep. 

But as she stared at herself, Azzi was unable to fight the grin splitting her lips. Trying to tamp down the butterflies in her stomach, she reached for the faucet and let the stream run over her hands.

Let’s not spiral before coffee, she thought, splashing some cool water over her face. The chill of it helped to clear some of the lingering fog from sleep and… everything else. She grabbed a towel, patting her skin dry before reaching for her toothbrush, going through the motions automatically.

She spat into the sink, rinsing her mouth and setting the toothbrush into the holder. The sight of another toothbrush tucked there made her stomach twist. She’d never gotten rid of Paige’s, so confident in what they had despite the distance that the thought never crossed her mind. And now here Paige was—back in her life, her house, her constant stream of thoughts. Almost like the weeks of distance and longing and hurt never existed. 

Almost. 

Azzi sighed, bracing against the veiny calcutta marble counter that she thought was exorbitantly priced at the time when the designer had first presented it to her years ago. Paige had complimented her on it, though, so she’d found a new appreciation for it. Gripping the cold counter, she looked at herself again and blew out a deep breath through her nose. 

There wasn’t anything in their way anymore. The realization that had been lurking just under the surface rose up fully now, impossible to ignore.

Mark was gone. The papers were signed. A statement was made. The narrative, for once, was hers.

And Paige had shown up the second she found out, making her intentions crystal clear. There were no more half-answers or dodging questions or pretending this wasn't something important.

All thoughts that were both equal parts exciting and terrifying. Azzi had just gotten out of a marriage. Maybe she hadn’t actually felt anything for Mark for a while now, but that still mattered. Just because ending things with him didn’t hurt now, didn’t mean that it hadn’t. She remembered all too well the feeling of him drifting, of fighting to get back what they had, to stop—or at least undo—the slow unraveling of their relationship. And then, the gut wrenching feeling of finding the fucking text messages to Cindy. The relationship had already deteriorated, probably past the point of repair, but that’s when Azzi confirmed how little regard Mark had for her.

The thought of throwing herself back into something was scary. Especially because Paige holding Azzi’s heart felt infinitely more dangerous. Not that she didn’t feel it would be protected, but if something did happen, Azzi wasn’t sure she’d survive this wreckage. 

Her insides twisted. Excitement and fear sat side by side, impossible to separate.

If this worked, it would be everything she always wanted. And if it didn’t… 

She cut the thought off before it could fully take root, physically shaking it from her head. 

God, Jackie would have a fucking field day with all of this.

“Identify the feeling, Azzi,” she muttered under her breath, mimicking her therapist’s perfectly calm tone. “Sit with it. Don’t avoid it.”

Azzi rolled her eyes at her own reflection and sighed.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m sitting with it,” she murmured to herself.

Honestly, she should probably send Jackie a fruit basket or something for the miracle she’d been working. Or a gift card. 

Growth was possible. Who knew.

She grabbed her phone from the edge of the sink and walked back into her bedroom. The screen lit up with a handful of notifications.

The group chat with Sarah and Gabby had multiple messages stacked on top of each other, the most recent one from Gabby reading: well????

Azzi exhaled, clicking on the chat. There were more messages above it.

Sarah: did you survive your impromptu trip to the woods? 

Gabby: blink twice if you need help

Gabby: actually don’t blink just fucking text us back girl

She smiled as she read message after message, most of them comical, some slightly worried, some encouraging. Even an x-rated one inferring that Azzi’s hands were too busy doing something else to text back.  

She hadn’t answered them last night, or anyone actually. Even her mom, who had texted about the game, completely unaware of everything else that had happened. There were a few other unrelated messages from friends, her agent, and the team’s physical therapist. 

A slight wave of guilt flooded in over her lack of response, but Azzi only had the bandwidth to tackle one thing at a time. Figuring out whatever this was with Paige sat at the top of the list so she dropped her phone onto the bed.

Glancing down down at herself, Azzi suddenly became very aware of the fact that she was still wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt.

Yeah. 

No.

This might have been her typical morning outfit, but trying to have a serious conversation with Paige like this felt like setting them up to fail in the most predictable way possible. They could barely keep their hands to themselves fully clothed. If the only  barrier between Azzi’s cunt and Paige’s fingers was a thin layer of cotton, they’d never even start their conversation. 

She pulled out a pair of black Nike joggers and tugged them up her hips with a slight shimmy. That was marginally better, she thought, while pulling her hair back. 

She made it two steps into the hallway before she stopped short.

Paige was still in boxers… and a cutoff shirt…

Azzi closed her eyes and sighed because that certainly wasn’t going to work. If they were actually going to have this conversation, she was going to at least give herself a fighting chance.

With a huff, she turned back into her room and grabbed another pair of sweats and a sweatshirt from her closet before heading downstairs, this time feeling a little more prepared.

When Azzi stepped into the kitchen, she paused,  against the doorframe as she took in the scene.

Paige stood at the counter with her back half-turned, fiddling with the coffee maker, clearly trying to remember how it worked. A few mumbled curse words slipped from her lips and Azzi just smiled, feeling the domesticity of it all wash over her. 

Her gaze drifted then, catching on the broad line of Paige’s shoulders and the way the cutoff shirt exposed her defined arms. Azzi’s eyes lingered, imagining—very unhelpfully—those same arms braced on either side of her, lifting her up onto the counter.

Her breath hitched, and she forced herself to look away, dragging her attention back up. Right. That was exactly why she’d brought the clothes. Because she was just a girl who was apparently not immune to the hot girl standing in her kitchen making her coffee. 

Paige must have felt her presence because she glanced over her shoulder, and then fully turned, her signature crooked grin already forming. 

Her eyes dropped immediately, scanning Azzi head to toe before pausing at the clothes clutched in her hand. Blonde eyebrows raised and Paige literally laughed. 

“Don’t,” Azzi warned playfully, holding out the sweats before Paige could say anything. “Just…” she wiggled the hoodie a little in offering, “humor me, please.”

Paige’s eyes narrowed into slits, her mouth working into a smirk that Azzi wanted to kiss right off her stupidly perfect face.

“You know,” Paige started slowly, pushing herself off the counter as her gaze flicked over Azzi once more, “I liked it better when you weren’t wearing pants.”

Azzi rolled her eyes immediately, even as her smile widened. Confident Paige always made her feel like a girl with her first crush, but she needed to maintain some dignity. “I’m sure you did.”

“I’m just saying,” Paige shrugged, completely unfazed as she stepped closer, taking the clothes from Azzi’s hands. “You’re the one making this harder than it needs to be.”

Azzi let out a soft, incredulous laugh, crossing her arms over her chest. “Put the clothes on, Casanova.”

The blonde let out a scoff, though she gave in with only mild resistance.

“Unbelievable,” Paige muttered. “I come over here, wake you up with sweet kisses, make you coffee, and this is the treatment I get.”

Azzi moved to the fridge. She yanked it open and grabbed a container of fresh strawberries as Paige pulled the gray pants and oversized black Storm hoodie over her head. “You’ll survive.”

Though Azzi wasn’t sure she would survive. Seeing Paige in her Storm clothes would never get old. 

“Debatable,” Paige shot back, but there was a teasing tone in her voice.

Azzi began slicing the strawberries one by one. It gave her something to do, something to focus on that wasn’t the fact that Paige was standing just a few feet away, watching.

She could feel the intense gaze, was hyperaware of the unbroken attention fixated on her. Azzi didn’t have to use too much imagination to figure out what Paige was probably thinking about while waiting for the coffee to finish brewing. Probably the same thing Azzi was trying not to think about so she could keep a level head. 

As Azzi reached for another strawberry, she felt warm arms sliding around her waist from behind. Her breath hitched and she let herself get pulled flush against the blonde’s chest. 

“Paige,” she warned. 

They both knew it wasn’t actually a warning by the way Azzi sank back into the embrace, tipping her head to the side to actively give Paige room to work.

Paige’s lips found her neck, pressing just below her ear, and Azzi felt it shoot all the way down her spine. She relaxed her shoulders and leaned back, even further. 

God.

This was exactly what she’d been trying to avoid.

Paige hummed against her skin, pleased with herself, tightening her grip as she pressed one more kiss against Azzi’s neck before pulling back.

“You’re just so beautiful in the mornings,” she mumbled, her voice warm against Azzi’s ear. “I can’t help it.”

Azzi let out a laugh and turned in Paige’s arms so she was facing her. “You’re insufferable,” she shot back, though there was no real conviction behind it.

Paige just grinned, unfazed as always, one hand sliding to rest at Azzi’s hip while the other brushed past her to pluck a strawberry from the wooden cutting board. 

Holding it between her fingers, Paige brought the strawberry back up, her gaze locked onto Azzi’s, watching for the reaction she knew she was going to get. She tilted it toward Azzi’s lips in quiet invitation, her expression calm but unmistakably laced with the same teasing confidence that’d been getting under Azzi’s skin all morning.

Azzi leaned forward, maintaining eye contact, her lips parting just enough as she took the fruit from Paige’s fingers. Her mouth closed around it, her lips brushing against Paige’s fingertips before she bit down, slow and intentional.

The sweetness hit, but it barely registered. All she noticed was the subtle change in Paige, how her eyes darkened as she watched. Azzi pulled back just as slowly as she’d leaned in, her gaze still locked on Paige’s, the tension between them thickening.

Paige knew exactly what she was fucking doing. That was evident from the way her mouth curved into a smirk as Azzi pulled back. Before she could say anything, Paige popped the rest of the strawberry into her own mouth, her gaze never breaking.

Azzi swallowed, shoving at Paige’s shoulder when she caught her eyes tracking the movement. “Go get me my coffee.”

Paige raised an eyebrow. “Bossy,” she muttered, but she turned anyway, reaching for the mugs in the upper cabinet. 

Azzi turned back to the counter, forcing her brain to refocus. She slid the cut pieces of fruit into a small bowl with the knife then tucked the container with the rest back into the fridge. When she turned around, Paige was leaning casually against the counter with a mug in her hand, the other one extended toward her like she’d been waiting.

Azzi stepped forward, accepting it. She brought the mug up, letting the steam hit her face before taking a deep inhale. The smell alone was enough to loosen her up a bit, and after taking a small sip, she felt like this conversation might be something she could actually handle. 

“Mm,” the sound slipped out as she closed her eyes briefly. “Thank you.”

Paige’s mouth jerked up at the corner, her usual teasing falling by the wayside. “Of course.”

Azzi took another sip, peering curiously at Paige over the rim of her mug. She shifted her weight back on her heels as she wrapped both hands around her mug and let the warmth seep into her palms. She wasn’t entirely sure where to start, what to get off her chest first, or how to take everything that had happened and put it into words that didn’t feel too big or too small or just not right.

Paige didn’t seem to have the same problem. She looked completely at ease, her posture loose, her gaze drifting toward the window like none of this was weighing on her in the same way. Even if Azzi knew that wasn’t the case. 

“Want to talk in here,” Paige asked, the embodiment of cool, calm, and collected, “or go out on the back patio?”

Azzi followed her gaze, her eyes landing on the stretch of bright blue sky just beyond the glass. It was nearly noon now, the sun high overhead without a single cloud in sight. She could feel the lingering grogginess still sitting in her head, the remnants of sleep—or lack of it—and everything that had come with it. The thought of stepping into the warmth felt like exactly what she needed. 

“Let’s go out back.”

Paige hummed in agreement, grabbing the bowl of strawberries off the counter and popping another one into her mouth. The casualness of it made Azzi smile as she followed the blonde through her own house and out onto the patio.

The air was warm as they stepped outside and eyed the side by side chaise longues that Azzi bought for herself a year ago when countless hints to Mark had gone unnoticed. At least it meant she got exactly what she wanted. Paige sat down first, and Azzi fought the urge to sink down on her lap. If she couldn’t focus just because the blonde wasn’t fully clothed, surely physical contact wasn’t going to help.  

Luckily, the backyard was quiet. It was a random Tuesday in June, which meant most of her neighbors were at work. And while there would usually be the roar of lawnmowers or landscaping equipment at this point in the season, they were either working in another neighborhood or taking lunch. The only sound Azzi caught was the rustling of leaves swaying gently in the breeze, the bubbling fountain, and the occasional chirp of a bird. 

It was peaceful, just how Azzi dreamed the backyard would be when she designed it, and they spent the first minute sipping their coffee and enjoying the loveliness of the day. Then came the small talk; a few comments about the weather, a discussion about how Azzi’s bed was much more comfortable than the air mattress with a slow leak that Paige had been sleeping on, and a few jokes about her coffee-making skills that Azzi rolled her eyes at but didn’t argue.

It eased them in, and Paige was the one who finally broke the bubble of bliss, shifting them into something more serious.

“I’m really proud of you, Az,” she said, voice devoid of its usual teasing edge, eyes holding a sincerity that Azzi felt inside her soul. “I know making that statement couldn’t have been easy.”

The words pulled at Azzi’s heartstrings. It had been hard. Physically saying the words, dealing with the aftermath, the public fallout. That was all necessary, though, for more reasons than one. 

“I didn’t do it for you,” she replied, more on instinct than thought. 

She wondered if it had come out too harsh, but Paige didn’t react or flinch. She just lifted her coffee again, taking a slow sip as if giving Azzi the space to say what she actually meant. And Azzi appreciated it; after months of ignoring the painfully obvious truth between them and tiptoeing around difficult subjects, blunt honesty was what they really needed. 

“I did it for me,” Azzi added. She adjusted her grip on the mug, her fingers tightening as she worked through the thought and how to word it the way she intended. “Mark dictated everything in our marriage. Every decision, every move, and I hated that. I hated feeling like I didn’t have a say in my own life.” Her gaze drifted for a moment out to the swaying trees along the fence line, unfocused, before she pulled herself back. “And I think I just… hit a point where I couldn’t keep letting that happen. I needed to take that power back. It was the right thing to do, for me.”

The weight of the statement hung between them for a moment, heavier than anything they’d said so far.

Paige nodded briefly, then shifted closer, her hand finding Azzi’s. She brushed her thumb over her knuckles and met Azzi’s gaze. “I understand,” she said. “And I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you were going through that. I just… I didn’t know how to show up for you without crossing my own lines. I was trying to figure out my boundaries at the same time.”

“I get it,” she said, releasing Paige’s hand and reaching for a strawberry. She chewed for a moment before adding, “And I wasn’t alone.”

That earned a small twitch of a smile from Paige. “Remind me to build Gabby and Sarah something. A table, maybe. Or a bookshelf.”

Azzi laughed and shook her head. “Don’t bother. Gabby still owes me for how many times you’ve had to come over here and fix things she or her offspring have broken.”

Paige scoffed, the idea absolutely offending her. “Please,” she drawled. “Like I’m ever going to charge you a penny for working on your house.”

Azzi arched a brow in challenge, studying the blonde. “You remember what I told you would happen if you didn’t, right? I’d just make up a number myself.” A small smile pulled at her mouth as she took another sip of her coffee. “And it was going to be very generous.”

Paige smirked over the rim of her mug before lowering it. “Don’t worry, baby. I take other forms of payment.”

Of course she did. 

Azzi laughed, delighted. She could only imagine all the various forms of payment Paige would accept. “I’m sure you do.”

“I’m just saying,” Paige added with a shrug. “I can be very accommodating.” 

“You think you’re so smooth, huh?” 

Paige considered it like it was an actual question and not a rhetorical one. Even though they both knew what it was. 

“I don’t know, Az…” she started. “You’re the one who made me put on a full pair of sweats this morning just because you can’t keep your hands to yourself. So whatever I’m doing…” She let the sentence trail off, her expression shifting with a little more intention. “I think it’s working.”

Azzi opened her mouth to argue, already forming a comeback, but it died before it could make it past her lips. Because Paige was right, annoying so. She had made Paige put clothes on this morning because she was too hot and honestly, she was okay with admitting that. Everyone had their weaknesses, and Azzi’s was a hot blonde with limited clothing.  

She pulled her attention back before it could spiral too far, lifting her mug and taking another slow sip, letting the warmth of a good cup of coffee settle in her chest. She shifted in her chair, turning to face Paige and meeting her gaze. As easy as this felt, as natural as it was to slip back into their rhythm like nothing had changed, she knew there was still something bigger sitting just beneath the surface.

Something they couldn't leave unaddressed for much longer.

Azzi let the quiet stretch for another few seconds before she finally exhaled and set her half-empty mug down on the small table beside her. Her heart picked up just enough for her to notice, the shift subtle but there.

“So…” she started, still looking over at Paige. “Where does all of this leave us?”

Paige didn’t answer right away. She shifted in her seat instead, her gaze moving over Azzi’s face like she was reading her. Or at least trying to. Azzi liked to think she maintained at least a little mystery. 

“Can I go first?”

Azzi nodded, lifting a hand in a small gesture. “Yeah. Of course.”

Paige exhaled, her shoulders dropping like she was letting something go before she spoke. “These last few weeks…” she started, her jaw tightening briefly before she pushed through it, “being without you has been awful.”

Her voice was devoid of the normal teasing tone, and Azzi could sense the sincerity. “I missed you so much,” Paige added, her eyes lifting to meet Azzi’s. “You can ask Nika and Drew, I literally wouldn’t shut up about you. They probably wanted to throw me off a fucking cliff.”

Azzi laughed, remembering the stories shared when she showed up at the campsite. She’d been able to sit back and enjoy a drink while stretching her legs before getting back into the car for the nearly three hour drive home. And the duo had caught her up on their trip. “So I heard.”

Paige’s eyes widened and the roll of them could probably be caught by a neighbor if they were looking hard enough. Then a scoff slipped out as she leaned back in the chair. “Okay, chill. I don’t think I even want to know what those two idiots said.”

“No you definitely don’t,” Azzi chuckled. “There was something about you dropping the bear spray because you were too distracted thinking about me?” 

“I’m gonna kill Nika,” Paige grumbled, dropping her head back against the chair and blowing out a long, exaggerated sigh. Then she sat up, adding, “Okay, that’s besides the point. I just want you to know that I’m in this, Az. Whatever that looks like in your mind.”

Azzi nodded slowly, as she let the words sink in. Her eyes dropped to a warped board on the porch, one she’d thought about asking Paige to fix for weeks but didn’t have a chance to do so before everything went sideways for them. “I guess we were so caught up in everything that we never really had that talk, huh?”

Paige shook her head once, simple and honest. “No. We didn’t.”

Pressing her lips together, Azzi brushed her fingers lightly against the edge of the seat cushion as she gathered her thoughts. She knew where she needed to go next, even if saying it still felt a little uncertain.

“I don’t want to go super public about this.”

She placed the words down between them carefully, one at a time, unsure where they would land.

She saw the subtle shift in Paige’s expression. It wasn't quite fear or hurt that slipped in, but Azzi’s stomach dipped nonetheless. 

“Hey,” she added, reaching out and lacing their fingers together. “I don’t want to keep you a secret. That’s not what I’m saying at all.”

She squeezed Paige’s hand, hoping it was as reassuring as she meant it to be. 

“We can be together. I want to be together. We can go out, hold hands, kiss, whatever we want. I just…” She exhaled, searching for the right way to say it. “I don’t want it to turn into this whole public thing. Not right now. Not with everything so fresh.”

Unable to stay still, her thumb brushed over the back of Paige’s hand, a nervous habit she’d picked up over the years. Call it a coping mechanism for all the time spent in media scrums and probing interviews.

“I just want it to be ours. Just ours and the people we care about. At least for a little while. Private, not secret.”

She let the words trail off, her eyes fixed on Paige’s face, trying to read every flicker of reaction and not spiral when nothing came right away.

Paige leaned back into the chaise and sighed, her posture loose but her expression thoughtful as she stared out across the yard. She looked stunning, her golden hair glistening under the summer sun as she processed the words.

The silence stretched just a little too long, broken only by the chirp of a bird that had nested somewhere in the line of hedges that stretched 10 feet up along the back fence. Life was going on around them. 

“How does that sound?” Azzi asked, uncertainty creeping back in despite her effort to keep her voice steady. “What do you think?”

A few more painful seconds ticked by, long enough for more doubt to find its way into the cracks. Then Paige looked up at her and a slow grin spread across her face, certain and sure and so Paige that it cut straight through the tension.

“I think,” she said slowly, “I want to be with you, Azzi. Every part of you. Through all of it.”

Her voice didn’t waver.

“I’m all in.”

Azzi felt whatever had been wound tight in her chest finally loosen, giving way so she coud fucking breathe again. It was hard to think with Paige looking at her like she hung the fucking moon. 

“Yeah?” Azzi inquired, still a bit bashful under Paige’s stupidly soft gaze. The rush of happiness made her feel almost lightheaded. 

“Hell yeah, girl.”

And that was that. Azzi watched Paige set her coffee on the table beside her, the ceramic clinking against the glass. Then  she reached forward and tugged Azzi by the wrist with that impossibly attractive confidence that didn’t leave room for second-guessing.

Azzi let herself be pulled. One moment she was sitting across from her, the next she was shifting forward, a carefree laugh slipping out as she ended up straddling Paige’s lap, her knees pressing into the soft cushion on either side of her.

The chaise dipped slightly under their weight, the fabric warm. Paige’s hands found her immediately, sliding up her back, mixing with the warmth of the sun beating down. She pulled her closer and Azzi had to fight the urge to grind her hips down.

“I want to be at your games,” Paige murmured, lips brushing against Azzi’s. “Wearing your jersey.” Another kiss. “Cheering for you.”

Something hot and wonderful sparked in Azzi; it spread outward before she could stop it. She leaned in, desperately chasing Paige’s lips. 

“And I want to come home after a long day,” Paige continued, her mouth finding Azzi’s again, this time deeper, “and have a drink with you right here.”

Azzi could almost see it as she said it. The two of them curled up right here, watching the sun sink lower in the sky.

Another kiss pulled Azzi back to reality, and by this time, she could feel the wetness between her legs. 

“And I want to take you out,” Paige added, her lips trailing along her cheek, teasing, “and then bring you home…”

Her voice dropped as her mouth moved along the line of Azzi’s jaw, lips warm against her skin.

“…and make you feel so good. On my mouth. On my fingers.” She leaned up just a little so she could whisper in Azzi’s ear. “On my strap.”

Azzi’s breath caught, her body going hot at just the thought. Her fingers tightened against Paige’s shoulders, and this time she couldn’t fight the way her hips moved against the blonde.

The heat of the sun, the warmth of Paige’s hands, the rasp of her voice—it all layered together until it was almost too much to separate. Too much to bear. Azzi’s head was fucking spinning. 

Paige’s lips worked along her neck, and Azzi couldn’t see it but she knew she was smirking. She fucking knew the blonde was relishing the way she was making Azzi come undone. This was mutual destruction, though, and they were both fully aware of that. 

“And wake up in the morning next to you,” Paige murmured as her hands slid lower, big hands palming Azzi’sass before squeezing, “and fuck you again.” 

Azzi tipped her head,  giving Paige more room to work as the breeze sent a chill where her lips had just been. Her head was spinning, thoughts in an absolute fucking tailspin as Paige sucked gently on her neck.  

“Yeah?” Azzi rasped out, too turned on to care that her voice cracked on the word. It was honestly a wonder she could form a coherent thought. 

Paige’s mouth curved against her skin, her lips brushing lightly along the shell of Azzi’s ear before she bit down gently on the lobe.

“Yeah, baby.” 

Azzi couldn’t stop the small, indignant sound that slipped out, pressing her body down more intentionally this time, the friction pulling an involuntary reaction from her. Paige’s hands tightened, guiding the movement and thrusting up into Azzi enough to send an all-consuming fire radiating through her body. She felt Paige everywhere. 

“How does that sound?” Paige asked, her voice velvety smooth against Azzi’s ear. 

Azzi nodded immediately, dragging Paige forward and pressing their lips together. Because she wanted Paige to stop talking and fuck her already. 

Infuriatingly, Paige shifted beneath her, grip firming, tamping down Azzi’s movements. She groaned in annoyance, the level of which grew when she pulled back and saw the stupid little smirk on Paige’s lips. 

“Use your words, baby,” Paige teased. “How does that sound?”

Azzi let out a quiet breath, her forehead dropping lightly against Paige’s. She tried to gather enough focus to answer, even as everything in her wanted to skip ahead.

Never one to back down, Azzi rocked her hips forward. Paige was strong, but Azzi was a professional basketball player. The moan Paige let out was absolutely worth the strained effort. 

“I want all of that,” Azzi said, her voice confident when it finally came. “I want you, P.”

Paige pulled back just enough to look at her, her eyes darker now, more intensity and less early morning haze. 

“You want me right now, baby?” 

Her voice was softer, but no less sure. Azzi didn’t hesitate this time.

“Fuck yes,” she breathed, her fingers curling tighter against her shoulders. “It’s been so long. I need you, P. ”

Azzi’s words barely settled between them before Paige’s mouth found hers with a different kind of urgency. There was no hesitation anymore. No distance left to bridge. After standing at the edge of it for weeks, tiptoeing around the truth, they were holding hands and jumping. Head first. 

Azzi leaned into her fully, her hands sliding from Paige’s shoulders up into her hair, fingers threading through it as she kissed her back with equal insistence. The world around them narrowed. The quiet patio, the sunlight, the coffee cooling on the table; all of it faded into the background until there was nothing but the way Paige’s hands moved over her.

She felt it everywhere.

The heat of Paige’s palms through the fabric of her shirt, the way her fingers pressed into Azzi’s back, pulling her closer like she couldn’t quite get enough. It unraveled her, and Azzi shifted without thinking, grinding against Paige, desperately needing relief. She didn’t care that she was in her backyard or if  that Mrs. Connelly from next door could peer out her bedroom window and get a free show. 

“Fuck, Az,” Paige murmured against her mouth, her voice rough, informing Azzi she was right there with her.

Azzi answered by kissing her again, deeper this time There was no second-guessing, no voice in the back of her mind telling her to hold back or pull away or protect herself.

It was just Paige. Just this. Just them. Finally. 

Paige’s hands moved with more intention now, tracing along her sides, her back, mapping her out like she’d been dying to do this again. Every touch felt deliberate, like she was reminding Azzi that she was there, that she wasn’t going anywhere this time. 

It settled something in her that had been longing and restless for weeks.

Azzi brushed her forehead against Paige’s as she tightened her grip on the fabric of her hoodie. “I need you inside, P,” she murmured, not caring how desperate she sounded. “Please.”

Paige stilled at the words. She pulled back just enough to break the rhythm, her hands still firm on Azzi’s hips as she created a little space between them.

Azzi let out a quiet groan, chasing her immediately, her lips finding Paige’s again like she could pull her back into it. Paige only pulled away further, an almost pained look in her eyes. 

“Wait,” she whispered. “Not like this, baby. I want to take my time on you.”

Azzi knew Paige’s boxers were probably soaked too. If she snaked her hand between them and slid two fingers between Paige’s folds she knew they’d come back covered in slick. And if she slid those fingers in a little further, she knew Paige would become an incoherent mess underneath her, driven mad by Azzi’s touch and the fact that it’d been weeks since she’d had it. 

But as Azzi looked down at Paige, the heat still there, still pulling at her, still taunting her to do something about it, there was something else threading through it now. Paige looked almost shy, her cheeks a pink hue that wasn’t entirely from what was about to go down.

God, that was…

Azzi wondered if Paige could be any more endearing. 

She lost the fight against the smile threatening to split her face, her fingers loosening against Paige’s shoulders to let the blonde back up.

“You make me so happy,” Azzi whispered. “I missed you so much.” 

A dopey smile washed across Paige’s lips, one Azzi knew was likely mirrored in her own expression. They stared at each other, grinning like fools, blinking slowly. Then Paige’s confidence slipped right back where it always resided and she smirked. Azzi just knew the next words out of her mouth were going to be some type of bullshit. 

“Let’s go inside,” Paige said, her tone an equal mix of smug and cocky, “I don’t want the neighbors hearing what I’m about to do to you.”

Yep, that was expected. 

Azzi giggled, shaking her head as she leaned back just enough to look at her properly, incredulous. “You’re unbelievable.”

Paige just shrugged like she knew it. They both knew it. 

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it, baby.”

“You didn’t seem too concerned about what your client’s neighbors might think when you fucked me in your truck bed a few weeks ago,” Azzi shot back. 

Paige’s cheeks flushed, just a little caught off guard. “Yeah, but—”

She trailed off, and the shift in her demeanor caught Azzi’s attention immediately, Even with the heat simmering under her skin, curiosity layered under it. 

“What?” Azzi pressed.

Paige hesitated, her grip on Azzi’s hips tightening, almost like she needed to confirm this was real. That Azzi was, in fact, sitting on her lap and not intending to disappear.

“I care about making a good impression on your neighbors,” she said, her voice a little more uncertain still. “Since I’m going to be around more.”

Azzi grinned, her heart lurching into overdrive as it slammed against her rib cage. She’d known what this was, but hearing that confirmation again and again would never get old. 

Still…

Azzi would be remiss if she didn’t seize the opportunity to mess with Paige during this uncharacteristically soft moment. They only came around so often. 

“Oh,” she grinned, full set of white teeth on display. “So you think I’m going to let you come around more now?”

“Well,” Paige started, her lips curving, cheeks still twinged with crimson, “I would assume I’d be spending a good amount of time at my girlfriend’s house…”

The sentence trailed off at the end, Paige’s gaze dipping briefly. It was subtle, but Azzi was perceptive. 

Oh. 

Her stomach somersaulted at the words, but it wasn’t driven by fear. Or maybe it was, but there was also an overwhelming sense of unbridled joy mingled with it. Azzi sucked in a deep breath  to settle her racing heart. This was okay. The muddled feelings were expected. Holding the both/and or whatever Jackie always said.

Azzi exhaled, finally bringing her gaze back up. When she met those fierce blue eyes again she saw how sure Paige was, how that hadn’t wavered at all. And for all the noise of the last few weeks, Azzi realized she’d never once looked into those stunning blue eyes and felt the need to brace herself. Never felt anything but safe. Paige had always looked at her like that, like she wasn’t something fragile or temporary; Azzi relaxed her shoulders,  deciding to give in to the inevitable. 

“So I’m your girlfriend now?” she asked, drawing out the word as she leaned in closer. 

Paige straightened beneath her, the question snapping something back into place. Her confidence returned in full force as her hands pressed more firmly into Azzi’s hips. She closed the space between them again, her lips brushing Azzi’s in a slow kiss that made it very clear she had no intention of backing down. Then again, Azzi had learned that Paige Bueckers never backed down. That worked well, because neither did Azzi. They were well matched. 

But Azzi melted into the embrace anyway, unable to resist the charm that always drew her in. 

Paige pulled back just enough to speak, her mouth still close enough that Azzi could feel her warm breath against her lips.

“I mean,” she shrugged, her tone shifting back to playful, “if you want to be, I guess that’s fine.”

Azzi stared at her for a moment, then laughed at the act she was putting on, one surely worthy of an Oscar. This was a game—always a game with Paige—and one she’d willingly play for the rest of her life. Azzi shook her head as she pressed her palm against Paige’s chest and guided the blonde back.

Paige let herself fall back with only the slightest resistance, her grin widening, clearly enjoying this just as much. They both knew how it was going to end anyway. 

“Ask me nicely,” Azzi demanded as she hovered over her.

Paige’s eyebrows lifted in surprise, thinking she was being pushed back for another reason, but she recovered quickly. “Will you be my girlfriend?” 

A smug smile graced her lips like she already knew the answer. But Azzi didn’t answer right away. Two could play that game. Instead, she tilted her head, pretending to consider it.

“Hmm,” she hummed non-committably. “I don’t know.”

Paige chuckled, shaking her head. “Are you serious right now, bro?”

“Sell it to me, bro,” Azzi shot back, her lips curving into a devilish grin. “What’s in it for me?”

Paige rolled her eyes, but she played along, her hands sliding back up to Azzi’s hips, fingers slipping under her oversized hoodie to rub against the soft skin there.

“First of all,” she started, “I make really good breakfast. And I’m usually up first because of my schedule, so you can expect coffee in bed.”

Azzi nodded slowly, pretending to take in the information very seriously. “Okay. And what else?”

Paige huffed out an incredulous laugh. “I’ll be your biggest fan at your games,” she said. “And when we’re ready, I offer top-tier WAG status.”

Azzi’s expression softened just slightly. “Okay,” she said, nodding once. “I’m liking that. And how are you with car maintenance?”

“You’ll never have to change your oil, fill your windshield washer fluid, or pump your own gas if that’s what you’re asking.” 

Azzi hummed, nodding. “What else you got?” she pressed.

Paige’s grin returned, a little brighter this time. “Free home repairs and renovations for life.” 

That pulled a laugh out of Azzi, her mind drifting to how they met in the first place. How the busted faucet Mark couldn’t be bothered to fix had led to this. To maybe the best thing to ever happen in her life. Maybe some day the home repairs and renovations would be on a home of their own. Things had a funny way of working out. 

“Okay,” she accepted casually. “You’re really starting to win me over.”

Although it didn’t need any inflation, the words seemed to go straight to Paige’s ego. Her eyes flicked up to Azzi’s, darkening as she leaned in closer.

“Honestly,” Paige added, her voice sultry and so full of herself, “the real selling point is probably all the orgasms.”

Azzi laughed at the absurdity of that being the top selling feature when Paige had so much to offer. Although, it was certainly near the top of the list. 

“Is that so?” 

Paige nodded, confidence back in full, as evidenced by the coy smile. 

“Fuck yeah.” Paige leaned up, her hands sliding under the waistband of Azzi’s sweats to give her ass a rough squeeze. “Unlimited, baby,” she murmured against Azzi’s lips. “All the time. I wanna fuck you so hard that the trainers wonder why you keep coming in with a limp. I’m yours to use.”

Azzi let out a soft, undignified sound at the thought of using Paige in all the ways she’d been dreaming of. The list was quite long and she briefly wondered how much stamina Paige had after only a few hours of sleep. 

“Take me inside and show me, then,” she demanded. 

Paige certainly didn’t need to be told twice. She shifted beneath Azzi, lifting her easily. Azzi squealed and wrapped her arms around Paige’s neck and they stumbled back inside together, their kisses breaking into giggles.

“Paige, you’re going to drop me,” Azzi hissed, locking her arms tighter around Paige’s neck.

“Never,” Paige promised against her mouth as she ungracefully slid the door shut behind them. 

Paige carried her through the house, her lips not leaving Azzi’s until they reached the bedroom. She gently laid Azzi on the soft comforter, her blue eyes never leaving Azzi’s own. 

The laughter faded, replaced by a charged and reverent silence as Paige stood over Azzi, her six-foot frame towering and her hair a messy halo around her face. There was a half-smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, tucked into the dimple that Azzi always had a weakness for. 

Azzi registered the change in her expression, the way Paige was looking at her in awe, like something precious she had lost and just found again. And it was the truth—at least partially. Whether or not Paige knew it, she’d never lost Azzi. But the uncertainty of their situation was enough to pull the same feeling from Azzi as she peered up at Paige, blinking through long eyelashes.  

Finally, Paige leaned down and captured Azzi’s lips in a kiss that was different from the frantic embrace outside. This kiss was deep, and tender, full of weeks of unspoken words. Her hands found the hem of Azzi’s hoodie and she paused, waiting for Azzi to give a small nod even though they both knew permission had already been granted.

Paige lifted the black Storm sweatshirt slowly, slower than she probably wanted, dragging her palms up the curve of Azzi’s waist, her knuckles brushing against Azzi’s stomach. Goosebumps raised on Azzi’s skin in the wake of Paige’s touch.  As Paige tossed the fabric aside, her gaze was locked on sight of Azzi’s bare skin. Azzi watched as Paige sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and bit down slightly. Watching the way Paige watched her was wild. 

Always needing to even the playing field—and maybe get a little bit ahead—and also desperate to see Paige again, Azzi sat up. She grinned as she pulled her own hoodie off Paige’s tall and built frame, appreciating the smooth skin of her stomach. Paige was breathtaking. She always was, but the way the afternoon sun filtered through the window painted her in shades of gold that made her look almost ethereal. But, she was also painfully, brain-melting hot. Even though it had only been a couple weeks, it felt like an eternity since Azzi had been able to marvel at and appreciate Paige’s body.

She let her gaze rove over Paige, taking in the tanned skin that glowed in the soft light, and the way her chest was starting to rise and fall just a little faster. Every inch of Paige was cut and strong, and somehow still soft in all the places that made Azzi’s throat go dry. She traced the hardened lines of Paige’s abs. And then the little scar on her forearm, and the one on her shoulder from when she ran into a rogue nail on a work site a few years ago. Azzi ached to put her lips there, so she did. And then she shifted her touch to the other small bruises and scrapes, the newer ones that Paige had likely picked up at work. She kept her caress light, worshipful.

Paige was perfectly imperfect. And she was all Azzi’s.

They undressed the rest of each other in silence. Piece by piece was stripped away, shedding any layer of distance until they were lying skin to skin. 

Then Paige leaned forward, capturing Azzi’s lips in a soft kiss as her hands began to roam. Not with the frantic need of before, but with a slow, exploratory reverence. She moved like she was reacquainting herself with every inch, even though Azzi was certain nothing between them had  ever been forgotten. Paige had her memorized from the start. 

Azzi felt stupid for how good the feather light touches made her feel, the way she arched her back when Paige’s fingers circled her nipples, how she let out a gasp when Paige’s fingers skimmed the inside of her thigh. How fucking wet Azzi was already. When Paige began to kiss her way down Azzi’s body, her lips warm against her neck, a soft moan slipped from Azzi’s throat. She knew Paige was smirking against her skin but her head was so foggy with lust and maybe even something that might kind of, sort of, resemble love, that all Azzi could bring herself to do was drape an arm over Paige and pull her closer. 

Paige continued her slow, tantalizing journey downward, sucking Azzi’ belly button piercing into her mouth, and sending a jolt of arousal through Azzi. They’d done this before, more times than Azzi could count, and she knew the pleasures that awaited when Paige’s tongue finally sunk into her cunt. But as the blonde’s lips drifted lower, a sudden, overwhelming need for closeness washed over Azzi.

“Hey,” she breathed out, her voice barely a whisper—and even that took effort—as she gently grabbed at Paige’s shoulder.

Paige stilled, looking up from where she rested against Azzi’s hip. Those brilliant blue eyes were dark with lust, but she peered up with an expression so soft and luminous that it made Azzi’s fucking heart ache.

“What, baby?” Paige asked with a gentle voice.

“I want you up here with me,” Azzi said almost bashfully. “I missed you.”

The transformation was instantaneous. A brilliant smile slowly spread across Paige’s face, so full of pure, unadulterated joy that it looked like she’d just been told the Storm would win three back to back Championships in the near future. She didn’t say a word, just started her journey back up Azzi’s body, kissing a different but just as mind-numbing path as she went. 

Of course she had to tease Azzi at least a little. Paige stopped at her nipples, flicking her tongue and circling one before she closed her lips around it, sucking gently. Azzi let out a sharp gasp; it felt so fucking good, and she almost gave in and let her stay there. But the overwhelming need to have Paige’s lips on her own was stronger.

“C’mon, P,” Azzi pleaded, but she was laughing and breathless and arching into Paige’s perfect mouth.

“Okay, fine, “Paige mumbled. “But I’m coming back here,” she defiantly asserted against Azzi’s skin before continuing her ascent. She kissed up Azzi’s chest, her warm, wet tongue tracing the line of her collarbone before finding the sensitive spot on her neck that made Azzi absolutely melt into the cool sheets. Paige planted a few lingering kisses there, soft and sweet, but that still lit Azzi up from the inside out.

Her head was spinning with lust and tender affection and want when Paige pulled back, her face hovering just inches away from Azzi’s own. Her blue eyes were soft, searching.

“Hi,” Paige whispered, looking so soft Azzi could picture their entire future together. 

Breakfast in bed. Dinner dates to hole in the wall restaurants Paige’s always talked about. Nights out with their friends. Hoisting trophies. Hosting holidays. Maybe even a dog. Or two, if Paige had her way. Babies. Building a family together. Building a house together. 

“Hi,” Azzi whispered back, a smile playing on her lips at all the thoughts, and the fact that Paige wasn’t even remotely aware of the life Azzi was letting herself daydream about..

Paige’s thumb gently stroked Azzi’s cheek. “I missed you too, Az. So damn much.”

The words settled behind Azzi’s ribs, warm and comforting, making her feel something she hadn’t in years. Or maybe not ever. Then again, she was pretty sure no one had ever looked at her the way Paige was looking at her now. A look of reverence and unchecked desire that wound so tightly together Azzi wasn’t sure where one began and the other ended. A look that made it clear Paige was going to worship her body. A look Azzi hoped she’d see laced in those captivating blue eyes for the rest of her life. 

She grinned and looked up at Paige, fighting the tears pricking at the corner of her eyes. She grabbed the hand Paige was using to cradle her face and dragged it down her body. Over her chest, past her taut stomach, not stopping until she pressed it firmly between her legs.

“Show me how much, P.”

They both groaned in unison as Paige’s hand slipped into place, her fingers sliding through Azzi’s slick folds. The feeling was electric; a perfect, familiar homecoming that Azzi was resolved to never go so long without again. 

“Fuck, Az,” Paige hissed, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment, her head dropping against Azzi’s shoulder. “You’re so wet.”

It shouldn't have come as a surprise after their previous encounters, and the few weeks they spent apart had only added to her carnal desire. Still, Azzi flushed, and darted her gaze away. Spurred by the obvious reaction, Paige dragged her finger over Azzi’s center, gathering up the embarrassing amount of wetness before rubbing slow circles against her clit. 

“God, you’re so beautiful, Az,” Paige mumbled. “I love when you get like this for me. Wanna make you feel so good, baby.”

Azzi wanted that too. Desperate for more, she instinctively rocked her hips up, pleasure coiling low in her belly. 

But as good as it felt, she wanted to give just as good as she was getting. She slipped her hand between Paige’s legs, and to Azzi’s sheer amazement found her girlfriend just as wet, just as ready, and full of want. The sound Paige made when Azzi’s fingers found her clit was a choked, beautiful thing that Azzi would play on repeat in her head. At least until she got the blonde like this again. Which admittedly, she hoped would be less than 24 hours. Not even finished with round one and Azzi was already desperate for round two, three, four, and more. She’d missed Paige so much.

Paige leaned in to kiss Azzi again, deep and slow, swallowing the sound Azzi made when she slipped a finger inside. Azzi clenched around her, and had to bite back a moan of her own as Paige worked her slowly. Paige didn’t push, letting Azzi’s body guide her, watching her fall apart one breath at a time with those piercing blue eyes.

It was getting hard to focus. Azzi’s brain was turning to mush, consumed solely by the immense feeling of pleasure building in her core. But she wanted to take care of Paige, just like Paige was taking care of her. 

Somehow, she found the strength to slip two fingers into Paige’s wet cunt, curling them just right judging by the way the blonde’s breath stuttered. 

“Fuck, baby,” Paige moaned. “Right there. Right fucking there.”

Azzi pressed her forehead to Paige’s, her eyes half-lidded, mouth open against Paige’s cheek “Don’t stop, P,” she whispered, voice rough.

They moved together, their fingers working in a rhythm that felt both familiar and new after weeks apart. Azzi circled Paige's swollen clit with her thumb as Paige mirrored the motion on her. The only sounds in the room were their soft pants and the filthy, wet slide of their fingers. They kept their eyes locked, faces close, watching the pleasure build on each other.  

But there was something new in Paige’s eyes this time. Azzi's heart hammered against her ribs as she realized that everything was different. It wasn’t just casual sex between them, but deeper, more honest, layered with so many emotions she was still processing. This was Paige. Her Paige. And while they’d belonged to each other long before this moment, it still felt different. The knowing where they stood, what they meant to each other, made every touch and kiss and slide of their fingers feel heightened. 

It felt like her body was being lit up from the inside out. Every nerve ending was already firing when Paige slipped another finger inside her, curling them instantly to hit that spot that made Azzi’s vision go blurry at the edges.

“I missed this," Paige moaned against her lips, her voice thick with lust. “Missed you so much, Az.” 

“Yeah?” Azzi managed to get out. 

Paige nodded. “Your smile. Your laugh. Your perfect fucking pussy.” 

Azzi responded not with words, but by pushing another finger deep into Paige's cunt, feeling her walls clench tightly even as her own hips continued to rock, riding Paige’s fingers.

“Missed this too, P,” Azzi whispered. “I…” she trailed off, unsure how far to take it before deciding honesty was best. Besides, she knew what it’d do to Paige. “I thought about you at night… when I was here by myself.” 

“Fuck, Az,” Paige hissed, forehead dropping against her shoulder, clearly picking up on the insinuation. “Tell me.” 

“I thought about how fucking good you make me feel,” Azzi continued. “How badly I wished it was your fingers in me instead of my own. How you’re the only one I want touching me for the rest of my life. No one does it like you, baby.”

Paige's touch was driving Azzi wild now, her thumb circling Azzi's clit with just enough pressure to make her toes curl. Azzi arched into the touch, her body humming with pleasure, but she wanted more. She wanted to be completely ruined by Paige.

"Need more, baby?" Paige murmured in a husky voice against Azzi's ear. 

Azzi could only manage a tight nod, knowing Paige already knew the answer anyway. This was just Paige being considerate, checking in, but right now Azzi didn't want consideration. She wanted Paige to lose control, to fuck her with an urgency that matched the weeks they'd spent apart. But Azzi also knew this soft, intimate exploration was about more than just physical release. It was about reacquainting, about the promises they’d just made. There would be time for frantic, desperate fucking later.

Paige smiled, a soft curve of her lips, and slowly eased a third finger inside Azzi's cunt. The stretch was an overwhelming, delicious fullness, and Azzi couldn’t control the gasp that ripped from the back of her throat. 

“Fuck, P. Make me yours,” Azzi moaned. 

Her free hand shot up, tangling in Paige's strands of golden hair, and she pulled her down for a searing kiss that was just as filthy as the sounds of their fingers fucking into each other. 

As Paige's tongue met hers, Azzi also slid a third finger into her tight, wet pussy, swallowing the sharp moan that slipped past Paige’s lips. They moved together, each chasing their own release but determined to deliver one as well, their fingers buried deep inside each other.

Azzi felt it everywhere. Paige’s lips on hers, the tight heat of her cunt, the wetness all over her fingers. The pleasure wasn't building in a gentle wave; it was a tight coil of heat winding in her stomach, growing more intense with every stroke of Paige's thumb and every deep thrust of her fingers.

“Cum with me, baby,” Paige pleaded, voice so ragged and desperate Azzi barely recognized it.

She did recognize the way Paige rubbed at her clit, three fingers still buried inside her, twisting the coil in her gut even tighter.    

When it finally snapped, Azzi cried out, her orgasm ripping through her. She felt Paige clench around her fingers at the same time, a guttural moan escaping her chest as her own orgasm hit. They rode it out together, their fingers slowing but not stopping, drawing out every last pulse until they were both trembling and breathless. Azzi collapsed in the sheets, a sticky, satisfied mess as she tried to catch her breath.

The aftershocks were still rippling through them, their chests still heaving, when Paige leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Azzi’s shoulder.

“I need to taste you,” Paige murmured, her voice somehow still raspy with need. She started to shift, preparing to take her rightful place between Azzi’s legs, but Azzi tightened her arms around Paige.

“No,” Azzi said in a firm tone. “It’s my turn. I want to take care of you.”

Paige tried to argue, a playful protest already forming on her lips. “Az, c’mon, I—”

She didn’t get to finish. Azzi used her strength to her advantage; in one swift motion she rolled them, her hips bracketing Paige’s, pinning her to the mattress. Before a wide eyed Paige could react, Azzi grabbed her hands, lacing their fingers together and pressing them into the pillow on either side of her head.

Paige looked up, her blue eyes flashing with a mixture of surprise and challenge. A satisfied grin spread across Azzi’s face as she gazed down at the beautiful blonde beneath her.  

“C’mon, Az,” Paige pleaded weakly, looking like she was fighting against herself to even get the words out. “Let me make you feel good. Don’t be a brat.” 

“Thought you were mine to use?” Azzi shot back, biting her bottom lip as she stared down at the submissive blonde. She knew Paige could fight against her if she really tried, which made the way she relaxed back into the bed even hotter. 

“I did say that,” Paige began. “If you were my girlfriend. But don’t think I didn’t notice you not giving me an answer.”

Okay. Fair. Paige had her on that one. 

“Fine,” Azzi purred, leaning down so her lips hovered a breath away from Paige’s. She pressed a kiss to her lips, licking into Paige’s mouth and relishing the way the blonde bucked her hips up. She pulled back leaving Paige chasing her lips and pressed a palm against her chest to keep her in place. Meeting her hazy blue eyes, Azzi beamed. “I’ll be your girlfriend. Happy?”

“Fuck yeah, I’m happy.” 

Azzi was certain if she didn’t have her hands pinned above her head that Paige would be fist pumping right now. Then she watched the blonde’s eyes darken and felt Paige start to shift, her shoulders coming up off the mattress.  

“Nope,” Azzi warned, pushing her firmly back down into the bed. “Be a good girl and lie there for me, okay?” 

Paige’s breath hitched, her eyes clamping shut. She dropped her head back against the pillow with a look of pure, unadulterated lust on her face. “Fuck, you’re so hot.”

Azzi laughed triumphantly while Paige just grinned, shaking her head in disbelief. 

“What is my life,” she mumbled emphatically to the ceiling, a wide, happy smile on her face. “I have the Azzi Fudd in my bed. Two-time National Champion. WNBA Champion. Olympic Gold Medalist. Certified fucking baddie.” 

“Paige,” Azzi groaned at the listing of her accolades. 

“What?” 

“Shut up,” Azzi whispered, pretending she didn’t love how in awe Paige was of her. She did, but she also didn’t want to feel like she was at an awards dinner receiving a lifetime achievement award while she was trying to fuck her girlfriend through the mattress.  

“Make me,” Paige shrugged like a petulant child. 

Okay. 

Azzi shut her up the best way she knew how, leaning forward and capturing her lips in a deep kiss. She licked into her mouth immediately, commanding dominance as their warm tongues slid against each other. 

Satisfied by the newfound silence, a rare occurrence when Paige was around, Azzi released her hands and began her descent. She kissed a slow path down Paige’s body, paying special attention to the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, nipping and sucking until Paige was squirming beneath her.

“Please, Az,” Paige begged. 

If Paige was begging, Azzi knew she was pretty far gone.  Smirking with satisfaction, she lifted her head to take in the sight of her Hot Contractor Girl laid out underneath her. Paige looked fucked out. Beautiful, sure, but completely fucked out. Head pressed into the pillow, face flushed, eyes wrenched shut.

Azzi had half a mind to drag this out, and maybe if it hadn’t been weeks since she’d tasted Paige, she’d have done just that. But the scent of Paige’s arousal was intoxicating, and the need to make her come undone was too strong. 

Finally, Azzi settled between her legs. She didn’t tease. She flattened her tongue and licked a long, slow stripe up Paige’s center, groaning at the familiar, addictive taste as she dove in. 

A moan tore from Paige’s chest and it wasn’t long before her hands flew to Azzi’s hair, fingers tangling in the dark strands and twisting. It sent a jolt of electricity shooting down Azzi’s spine. She glanced up, her eyes meeting Paige’s as she swirled her tongue around her clit. “Use me,” Azzi commanded, her voice muffled against her. “Fuck my face like a good girl.”

The words were clearly Paige’s undoing. She let out another choked moan, this one almost feral, her hips bucking as she tightened her grip on Azzi’s hair and began to move, riding Azzi’s tongue with a desperate, uninhibited rhythm. Azzi held on, matching her intensity, her tongue and lips working the blonde closer and closer to orgasm. She watched as Paige grabbed fistfuls of the sheets with her free hand, her knuckles turning white as her body tensed. Finally, with a sharp, broken cry, Paige came, her body arching off the bed as the orgasm hit her.

Azzi stayed with her, gentling her movements but still intent on drawing out every last wave of pleasure. She didn’t stop until Paige was a boneless, panting mess beneath her. Only then did she crawl back up her body, capturing her lips in a deep kiss, letting Paige taste herself on her tongue.

Paige started to move, her hands beginning to roam again, but Azzi gently pressed a hand to her chest, pushing her back down onto the bed. “Relax, P.”

Paige groaned, but it seemed more a sound of contentment than any real protest. 

“I have an off day today,” Azzi continued in a soft voice. “We can stay in bed all day.”

A wicked grin split Paige’s face. She pulled Azzi down into another kiss, but as their lips met, she sassily mumbled against them, “Can’t a girl want to eat out her girlfriend these days…”

Azzi threw her head back and laughed, unable to fight the joy that rippled through her at hearing those words. 

“You know it’s in the contract, right?” Paige teased, her eyes twinkling with mischief. 

Azzi’s laughter subsided into a warm smile. “What is?”

“I can eat you out whenever I want,” Paige shrugged, aiming for casual but looking anything but. “It goes both ways too. So really whenever you’re down, I’m down.” 

Shaking her head, Azzi peered down at the blonde, blinking. “Is that so?” 

Paige nodded, her expression dead serious. “Yeah. You probably should have read the fine print. It’s all in there…”

Connections like dating the star shooting guard for the Seattle Storm, Paige thought. Her friends definitely didn’t need to know these seats were the result of a playfully heated argument a few weeks ago when Azzi demanded to be billed for all the work Paige had done around the house and Paige flat-out refused. The excuse that the “billing department” was backed up only worked for so long. Paige could ignore Venmo requests all day long. What she couldn’t do was reject courtside seats for her and her friends, especially once Nika found out they existed.

“Same difference,” DiJonai shot back, grinning as she nudged Marta forward. “Move, I’m trying to see where my seat at.”

The court opened up in front of them, the Storm logo stretched across the center circle, gleaming under the bright lights. The seats—according to the ticket on Paige’s phone—were along the sideline at half court. It felt like something out of a different tax bracket, and she briefly considered how many small jobs she’d have to add to her current backlog to pay for these seats under normal circumstances. 

Paige slowed to a halt, taking it all in, wondering how the hell a broken faucet had gotten her here. Sitting courtside, about to watch her amazingly talented and drop dead gorgeous girlfriend ball out.  

“Uh huh,” Nika hummed from behind her, catching the look on her face immediately. “Don’t act brand new now.”

“I’m not acting anything,” Paige scoffed, even as she stepped a little more carefully down the row of chairs, not wanting to make a scene. Or knock something over. Or bump into someone who made her annual salary in a month. “Just a fan getting ready to enjoy the game.” 

“You are literally wearing your girlfriend's jersey and sitting courtside,” Dijonai scoffed, eyes widening in exaggerated disbelief. “Like… let’s be real here.”

Paige looked down instinctively, fingers brushing the hem of the forest green jersey she’d thrown on earlier. The one with FUDD stitched across the back. Yes, she wore it every game, but mentioning that didn’t seem like it would help her case at all.

Instead, she rolled her eyes, dropping into her seat and bracing her elbows on her knees. 

This was fine. It was a completely normal experience to sit courtside at a WNBA game in your girlfriend’s jersey while all your friends judged you.

“She got you sitting in the best seats in the house,” Dijonai continued, settling in on Paige’s side. “How many orgasms did it cost you?” 

“I will leave,” Paige said flatly. “I will actually get up and walk out and leave you idiots here.” 

“Not too much on Paige,” Nika cut in, though Paige knew enough to know she wasn’t actually coming to her aid. Nika dropped into the seat on her other side and nudged Paige’s knee lightly. “Fudd is getting plenty of perks herself.”

Paige narrowed her eyes, suspicion confirmed. “Don’t—”

“Oh that’s definitely true,” Stewie nodded, leaning over from her seat, completely ignoring Paige. “I saw the before and after pics she posted of her back deck. I know that girl did not do it herself.”

And okay, that was true, but it was certainly not the perks Paige thought Stewie was about to list off. Thankfully. 

Dijonai let out a loud laugh, doubling over as she slapped her knee. “Oh, you down bad, Paigey. You rebuilt her deck?”

Marta peeked around Stewie with a proud smile. “It did turn out very nice, P. You really put in work.”

“Stop,” Paige groaned, dragging a hand over her face as heat crept up her neck. Thankfully the players weren’t on the court yet so Azzi couldn’t see her getting absolutely roasted. “She asked me for help.”

Technically, that was a lie. Azzi had mentioned needing to “find someone” to replace a rotting board on her back deck. 

“Mm,” Nika hummed. “And you said yes. Immediately.”

Well, obviously. The alternative was letting the crusty boy down the street who was home from college take a shot at it, as Azzi originally suggested. Which Paige had shot down immediately. She’d already caught him ogling Azzi while she was out for a run on several occasions. Not that Paige would have allowed it, regardless. No one was allowed to touch Azzi’s house but her. 

“Because it needed to get done,” Paige shot back, even though that wasn’t helping anything.

They didn’t need to know that the original request to replace a single rotted board had turned into a side quest where Paige rebuilt the entire deck because Azzi once mentioned wanting the railings to be bench height to add more seating. That was no one’s business but hers. 

“Because you’re whipped,” Dijonai corrected.

“I am not whipped,” Paige said, a little too quickly.

Which, of course, made all of them pause before erupting into laughter. Because she was absolutely whipped and they all knew it. It had become painfully obvious over the last few months just how bad it was. 

“Bro, you’re like whipped whipped,” Nika said with a playful laugh. 

Paige slumped into her seat and glanced out at the court where players were starting to trickle out for warmups.

“Y’all are so annoying,” she muttered under her breath.

“Yeah,” DiJonai agreed, patting Paige’s knee in a way that was only slightly patronizing. “But we’re right.

“Whatever,” Paige mumbled, the corner of her mouth tugging up as she tried to fight it. Because they weren’t entirely wrong. That wasn’t something she was going to admit out loud, though. 

And who could honestly blame her for treating Azzi like the princess she was? She deserved coffee in bed, and homemade dinners, and Paige flying across the country to surprise her at All-Star weekend. 

She certainly deserved the new kitchen table Paige had built her last month. The one their friends relentlessly teased her about, completely unaware it broke when Paige bent Azzi over it after she returned from a two-game away trip. How could she not replace it? Really, building the table saved her time in the long run because Azzi was perhaps one of the pickiest people on the planet, and Paige got tired of being dragged to furniture stores only to be told it “wasn’t the right shade” or “she didn’t like that little detail thingy” or whatever other excuse came out of Azzi’s perfect mouth. So Paige had taken her home and kissed her and told Azzi to tell her exactly what she wanted. And then she spent a week of late nights at the shop and made it happen. 

She’d also argue—in her head, of course, never aloud to her friends—that Azzi was not the only one being treated well. Paige had come home to find the latest version of the exorbitantly expensive Festool random orbital sander that she’d been eyeing for a while, sitting atop said table. Before she could even open her mouth to thank her girlfriend for it, Azzi had her shoved against it, and Paige was glad she had built the table so damn sturdy as Azzi laid her back, spread her legs, and ate Paige out on top of it to show her thanks. 

Azzi deserved the world and Paige would do literally anything to give it to her. Like fighting a child for the last pint of Half Baked at the gas station when Azzi had a late night craving after her fourth orgasm of the night. And, okay, she didn’t fight the teenager, but she did give him fifty bucks for it,  which might actually be worse. Still, she wasn’t going to let her friends know that.

“Whatever you say, P,” Nika laughed before bringing her drink up to her lips. 

Paige leaned back in her seat, her eyes tracking the tunnel for any sign of Azzi as more fans filtered in around them, music thumping through the speakers. Beside her, Dijonai was chatting with Stewie and Marta, laughing about something that probably involved her, but Paige chose to tune it out for the sake of her sanity. 

Her thoughts circled back to Azzi, as they always did these days. To how things had shifted between them over the past few months. 

The first few weeks after they stopped pretending this was something casual had certainly been interesting. They’d both been a little cautious. Almost like they knew exactly how much they had to lose now and were afraid of messing it up.

Not to mention that they were both extremely busy. Paige had her business, which meant early mornings, some late nights, jobs that ran over, and clients who called at the worst possible times. And Azzi had practices, travel, film, media, appearances, and games stacked on top of games. It wasn’t easy balancing their schedules by any means. There were days they didn’t see each other at all. Days where the only thing they managed were some brief text exchanges or a quick FaceTime before bed. 

They’d figured it out without guilt-tripping or scorekeeping or passive-aggressive comments about who canceled last or who forgot to text back. They were just open and honest, and always made sure to end the day with a check-in, no matter how short.

It was a bit weird, at first. Paige was used to things exploding into something else if not handled right. A missed call becoming a fight. A late night turning into an accusation. A lack of texting turning into you don’t care, when really her hands were covered in paint or drywall mud or caulk and she literally couldn’t answer for hours. 

But with Azzi, it didn’t escalate or blow up. It stayed what it was—simple. Which, Paige had quickly learned, didn’t necessarily mean easy. It just meant steady and secure. That was still something she was adjusting to, even months later.  

Her eyes tracked absentmindedly across the court, landing on a rack of basketballs as a few of the Sparks players started working through a shooting drill. Kelsey Plum waved at Paige from across the court, basketball tucked under her arm. They’d met once, last month, when the Sparks were in town and she’d met Azzi out at the bar with some of them after the game. It still blew Paige away how their lives had started to overlap in the past few months. 

It started small. A random dinner that Azzi invited a couple teammates to join, to which Nika showed up unannounced with takeout because she “missed Paige” and then refused to leave when she saw Gabby and Sarah sitting at the table. And suddenly Paige’s house—or Azzi’s, depending on the night—was full of people who didn’t feel like they were from separate worlds anymore. 

Then there was the night that turned into them watching both Julien and Theo at the same time. Which, in hindsight, should’ve been a huge red flag the second it was suggested.

“Super easy,” Gabby had said.

“Just for a couple hours,” Marta added as she dropped him off at Azzi’s, handing over a sleepover bag even though they definitely hadn't discussed that.

Neither of those things turned out to be even remotely true. Paige had ended up elbow-deep in bath water trying to get the boys clean after a cookie-making incident, while Azzi tried her best to salvage the sticky explosion in the kitchen. And yet, when the boys climbed into their laps and passed out halfway through a movie with chocolate chip cookies clenched in their fists, a quiet thought flickered through her mind that maybe, someday, her everyday life would look like something like that.

Paige exhaled slowly, chewing on the inside of her cheek as she shifted in her seat and looked around the court for Azzi. She still wasn’t out, only Nneka and Dom goofing off by the bench. After a few seconds watching them, Paige’s gaze drifted down to her hands resting against her knees.

Her cuticles looked suspiciously healthy these days. Honestly, her hands in general did, a ridiculous feat considering she spent most days picking slivers out of her skin or trying to scrape paint or grout from her nail beds. The whole glamorous contractor experience and all.

Now, though, she had regular manicures because Azzi, horrified by the state of Paige’s hands one night while laying in bed together, insisted. The first appointment had been against Paige’s will, or at least that was the story she told her friends to save face. In reality, she’d folded embarrassingly fast the second Azzi started rubbing cream onto her hands while explaining the importance of cuticle oil. 

And don’t get Paige started on the lotion. It was truly offensive for something that essentially amounted to fancy smelling hand cream to be that expensive. Not that Paige paid for it. It had miraculously shown up in her bathroom one day, with replacement bottles arriving every few weeks. 

It was stupidly domestic, but then again, Azzi always paid attention to the little things. She’d slip sunscreen in Paige’s work bag if she knew she’d be outdoors on a job. She’d notice if Paige didn’t pack a lunch and show up with takeout because they both know she wouldn’t take the time to go herself. And sometimes, if Azzi noticed her grimacing or stretching weird, Paige would come home to a warm epsom salt bath drawn. All the better when Azzi was waiting in it for her. 

Her chest constricted a little at the thought, warmth settling behind her ribs. It took some time, but somewhere along the way, Paige had gotten used to someone paying attention to her in ways that went beyond surface level.

Though, if she was being honest with herself, it hadn’t all been easy. Not that she’d expected perfection. 

There had been a few moments. Small ones, mostly. The first real argument had been stupid. So stupid Paige would have laughed about it after, had Azzi not been glaring straight into her soul at the time.  

Azzi had canceled on her last minute, again. She was tied up watching film, and Paige, already running on too little sleep and too much work and missing her girlfriend, had snapped. A beat of silence followed on the other end of the phone, long enough to take the heat out of the argument. Long enough for her to realize the mistake. Then Paige apologized, they’d talked it through, and came up with a plan to make time.

There was another one about something even dumber. Well, depending who you asked. Nika had posted a video from the SZA concert they were all at. Unfortunately, it captured Paige behind Azzi with her arms wrapped tightly around the brunette, her head resting on Azzi’s shoulder. It wasn’t obvious, but it was enough that people noticed, and it spread fast because Nika might be the only person in the world who didn’t have a private Instagram account. 

The comments that followed had been curious. You couldn’t make out Paige’s face and it wasn’t completely obvious that it was Azzi. But Azzi had posted a story of the concert on her own feed earlier so it didn’t take much brain power to put two and two together. 

Paige hadn’t cared, but Azzi had. Not because she wanted to keep Paige a secret. She just didn’t want them to be dragged into something they weren’t ready for. Honestly, who could ever be ready for a media frenzy? Azzi had already endured one a few months ago and wasn’t in a hurry to repeat. 

“It’s too late. The damage is already done, P,” Azzi had said after Paige texted Nika to take it down. “Can you just talk to your friends and ask them to be more careful?”

That had started an argument that had lingered longer than the others. Mostly because it was something they hadn’t fully solved yet. They were keeping things low key on purpose, but that was proving harder and harder to do by the day. 

Fans didn’t need much to go on and they’d left enough breadcrumbs that Paige had seen plenty of comments along the lines of: that’s gotta be Azzi’s girl, right? Even worse were the clap backs about Azzi being straight because Paige knew that was decidedly not true. 

They hadn’t talked about it head-on, but they both knew it was coming. To Paige, it felt almost like they were waiting to get caught, which was both exhilarating and also a little annoying.

And Paige was currently sitting courtside in Azzi’s jersey amidst all the speculation, so. Maybe they weren’t being as subtle as they thought.

A sharp jab to her ribs snapped Paige out of her head.

“Look alive,” Nika muttered, elbow still pressed into her side. “Your girlfriend’s about to come out.”

Paige shot her a look, before turning toward the tunnel. “You’re so annoying.”

“I know,” Nika hummed. 

Sure enough, a few seconds later a ripple of cheers rolled through the crowd as the rest of the Storm players began jogging out onto the court. Gabby and Sarah were out first, grinning as they locked eyes with Paige. 

“Yo, look at this,” Gabby called, veering toward the sideline instead of heading straight to the bench. “We got upgraded seats now?”

Sarah slowed beside her, eyes sweeping over the row. “I see what’s going on.”

Dijonai leaned forward, pointing at Paige like she’d been waiting for this exact moment. “Tell them, P,” she said. “Tell them how you got us down here.”

“I didn’t—” Paige started, shaking her head, but it didn’t matter.

Marta, sensing where this was going, jumped in with a shrug that tried so hard to be convincing. “It was probably no big deal,” she said, waving a hand like it would smooth things over. “You know, just a couple extra tickets. Light work for Azzi.”

Paige gave her a grateful look for all of half a second until Gabby snorted. Apparently that was a crazy concept. 

“Girl,” she said, turning fully toward Paige, “I heard Fudd practically begging admin for these seats. Promised to do extra media shoots, extra promotion. Whatever they needed.”

Every head in the row turned toward her at the exact same time. Paige felt the heat hit her neck instantly. 

“Oh my god,” Paige muttered, dropping her head into her palms as Dijonai and Nika leaned back laughing.

“Guess Azzi is just as much of a sad lover girl as you, P,” Nika announced.

Paige shook her head, fighting the smile threatening to give her away. As much as she didn’t want to be teased, knowing Azzi had gone through all that made her feel some type of way. 

Before she could even think about formulating a coherent response, a familiar voice cut in. 

“Y’all are just making stuff up now.” 

A familiar pair of bright pink Jordans came into view from between her split fingers. Paige lifted her head, before standing and instinctively stepping forward as Azzi came to a stop in front of them. 

Up close, she looked so good that Paige had to force her brain to keep functioning as Azzi closed the gap. She slipped into an easy side hug as Paige’s pulse did its usual stutter when she made contact with her girlfriend. 

“Are we making stuff up, Fudd?” Gabby asked rhetorically, eyes narrowing because she was enjoying this a little too much. “Or do you have a special photo shoot with Carly tomorrow after practice?” 

Azzi scoffed and pulled Paige in tighter, conveniently choosing not to answer. 

“You didn’t tell me these tickets were so hard to get,” Paige murmured, ignoring Gabby. “I would’ve been fine in my regular seat, baby.”

Azzi just shrugged, like she hadn’t apparently signed her life away for five courtside tickets. “I had to treat my girl right for all her hard work,” she said with a lilt of amusement tucked into the words. 

Her eyes flicked down briefly, taking in the jersey Paige was wearing, before coming back up, warmer now. Paige briefly wondered if Azzi was thinking the same thing—them fucking in the back of Paige’s truck after Azzi’s game a few weeks ago. Apparently Paige “looked too good in her jersey” and Azzi couldn’t wait until they got home from the bar. 

“And you’re worth it,” Azzi added. 

Paige let out a quiet laugh, trying to fight the crimson forming on her cheeks as she pulled back. Azzi never ceased to make her blush. 

“Thank you, baby,” she replied softly. “Appreciate you.” 

Azzi smiled fondly before turning to the rest of the group, moving down the line with quick hugs and daps. Paige stayed where she was, watching the way Azzi moved through it all so easily, amazed at their worlds blending together so seamlessly. 

Then, just as quickly as she’d come over, Azzi was backing away, jogging toward the bench with her teammates as the coaches called them in.

“Don’t get too comfortable down here!” Sarah called over her shoulder as she followed. “Fudd can’t afford this every game!”

Paige laughed and dropped back into her seat, exhaling through her nose as she stared out at the court, trying to act like her friends weren’t absolutely about to start in on her again for the whole encounter. Judging by the way Nika leaned forward behind her, she had about three seconds. Maybe less. 

She was right about the teasing, but thankfully, Paige didn’t get roasted as bad as the LA Sparks. When the final buzzer sounded, the scoreboard read, 87 for the Storm and 68 for the Sparks. 

Paige stayed seated, elbows on her knees, watching the Storm players huddle up after the win. Pride flooded through her at Azzi’s twenty-six points. The feeling of watching her girlfriend light it up every night never really got old. A lot of things had changed the past few months, but the joy Paige felt watching Azzi play basketball didn’t. If anything, she loved it even more, her heart swelling with pride watching her girlfriend ball out. 

Around her, people were moving, some heading for the exits, others leaning forward because they knew something else was coming. 

Paige didn’t think much of it until the announcer’s voice cut through the noise.

“Alright Storm fans, don’t go anywhere just yet!” he called, drawing a fresh wave of attention back to center court. “It’s time for our annual Fan Appreciation Night grand finale!”

Paige straightened in her seat, glancing toward the jumbotron as it lit up with graphics and flashing text.

Oh fuck.

“We’re about to announce the winners of our Biggest Fan Competition,” the announcer continued. “So if you hear your name, find the nearest usher and make your way down to the court!”

Paige’s stomach dropped immediately. Like the floor had literally disappeared underneath her. Honestly, Paige wasn’t against that, as long as she went down with it and got buried in the rubble. 

“Oh my God,” she groaned, turning to glare at Nika. “I can’t believe your dumbass submitted an application in my name, bro.” 

Nika, who had been leaning comfortably back in her seat like she didn’t have a single fucking worry in the world, barely reacted. “First of all,” she said, sitting up straighter, “it was a beautiful application, Very heartfelt.”

Dijonai let out a loud laugh beside Paige, shaking her head. “Relax, P,” she added, nudging Paige’s shoulder. “They always pick little kids for this. You’re fine.”

Paige didn’t look convinced but the words settled her a little. DiJonai was right, at least from what she remembered from the other years. There was usually a steady stream of five to fifteen year olds being called down to meet the players. 

“But Nika was right,” DiJonai added. “That application was gold.”

Paige turned to her immediately. “You saw it?”

Dijonai’s grin widened. “Girl, she sent it around in the group chat.”

Paige blinked, looking between all of them. “Why didn’t I see it then?”

“The other group chat,” Nika said without hesitation.

Paige frowned. “What other—”

“The one without you in it,” DiJonai finished matter-of-fact.

There was a moment of silence where the words were registering before Paige’s head snapped toward her so fast it almost gave her whiplash. “Bro, what the hell? You have a group chat without me in it?”

From down the row, Stewie shrugged like this was the most normal thing in the world. “Yeah. It’s where we talk about how gay you and Azzi are behind your back.”

Paige threw both hands up in the air, incredulous. “You’re all dead to me.”

“It’s really not that active,” Marta cut in quickly, trying to de-escalate a situation that definitely required de-escalation. “We barely use it anymore. Don’t worry.”

“Anymore?” Paige waved her off with a flick of her wrist, turning back toward the court. “No, because now I have even more questions.”

“Ask them later,” DiJonai said, still laughing. “Right now, you need to relax and enjoy the show of little kids they’re about to trot out on the court to meet their idols.”

Paige blew out a deep exhale, forcing herself to look up at the jumbotron instead of continuing whatever this argument was about to turn into. She was irked, but it really wasn’t worth crashing out over. Even though her girlfriend had gotten them all courtside seats. Ungrateful. 

The screen cut to the first winner, a tiny redheaded girl no more than ten years old who looked like she might actually combust from excitement as her name was called. She shrieked loud enough that it cut through the speakers, bouncing in place as an usher hurried over to guide her down the aisle to take her place next to Gabby.

Paige couldn’t help it, smiling at her pure excitement.

“See?” DiJonai murmured beside her.

Paige nodded, settling a little deeper into her seat as the next name was called. And the next, and the next; each one exactly the same. Little kids, wide-eyed and ecstatic, practically sprinting down toward the court like they couldn’t get there fast enough. Some in jerseys too big for them, some clutching handmade signs, all of them buzzing with joy that was impossible to fake.

By the time they got to the second-to-last name, Paige was fully relaxed again, leaning back with her arms crossed loosely over her chest, one ankle casually hooked over the other like she’d been sitting like that all night.

“Last one!” the announcer called, voice lifting just slightly for effect.

Paige was barely paying attention, instead checking stats from her fantasy league that DiJonai had aptly named Hoop Girl Summer. She was currently crushing Nika in their head to head matchup, and did a little fist bump after seeing Azzi had gotten her nearly forty points that game. She would properly thank her later when they got home. Preferably several times. Starting in the car. And then the shower. Before ending in bed. 

“And now…” He paused for dramatic effect. “Please welcome to the court Azzi Fudd’s number one fan…”

Paige’s gaze drifted lazily from her phone to the jumbotron, excited to see the joy on some child’s face when they got selected. 

“Paige Bueckers!”

What. The. Fuck. 

The world didn’t stop. The floor didn’t drop. But Paige wished it did. She felt the blood drain from her face so fast it was almost impressive.

She didn’t move, blink or breathe. For a half-second, she was pretty sure she’d just imagined it. This had to be her imagination playing tricks on her because in what world would they call her to join a line of literal children on the court. Then the camera found her and the entire arena got a much closer look at exactly how horrified she was.

Paige’s head snapped to the side so fast it almost hurt. She was going to fucking kill Nika. The many ways she could do this riffled through her mind in rapid speed. Strangulation. Pushing her off a cliff on their next hike. Cutting her brake lines. So many options to choose from… 

Her eyes went wide, sharp, murderous, every possible threat she could think of packed into one look.

She didn’t even get the words forming on the tip of her tongue out because DiJonai grabbed her arm, hauling her up out of her seat with zero hesitation. “Get up. You’re on camera,” she hissed, half laughing, half shoving, clearly thinking this was the best thing that had happened to her all week. Maybe even all year.

Paige staggered to her feet, heart climbing into her throat as the realization fully hit her. It wasn’t just the announcement or the expectations that came with it, but the fact that the giant screen above them was very clearly locked onto her shocked, bright pink face.

“Nika,” she muttered through gritted teeth, letting herself get pushed forward onto the court because at this point there was no version of this where she sat back down and pretended it didn’t happen. “You’re dead. You’re actually fucking dead.”

“Worth it,” Nika called after her, not even trying to hide the grin.

Paige didn’t look back, instead locking her gaze ahead as the usher guided her across the floor. She  followed on autopilot, her brain still trying to catch up to her body.

And then she saw Azzi, standing at half court, jersey in her hands, looking… stunned. Like actually stunned.

Azzi stepped toward her first, arms opening instinctively, and Paige met her halfway, slipping into the hug because Azzi was the only steady thing in the middle of all of this.

“Did you do this?” Paige murmured. There wasn’t any real accusation behind it, just surprise, and a little disbelief still clinging to the edges.

Azzi shook her head almost imperceptibly, pulling back to look at her. “No,” she said, then leaned slightly to the side, eyes narrowing as she looked past Paige.

Gabby and Sarah stood a few feet away, both of them already laughing, shoulders shaking, completely unapologetic.

Azzi’s expression flattened, lips pulling together in a playful scowl. She didn’t even need to say words, the pointed look she shot them doing enough.

Gabby held her hands up like she was innocent, which she very clearly was not. “Hey,” she said, grin widening, “they had something to do with it too.”

She nodded toward the stands where Paige’s friends sat. Paige didn’t even need to turn to know exactly what they looked like right now. Probably wearing smug, pleased grins. Still, she did anyway. Sure enough all of them were laughing and very intentionally not making eye contact.

Paige narrowed her eyes, pointing at them briefly. “I’m going to kill them all,” she muttered under her breath.

Azzi laughed, unable to contain it and nudged Paige lightly with her shoulder.

“Hey,” she added, lifting the jersey slightly. “At least you get an autographed game-worn jersey.”

Paige glanced down at it, then back up at her. Her lips curled up despite everything going on around them as she realized Azzi was standing there in her black jordan compression tank, toned arms on full display.

She stepped just a fraction closer, leaning in toward Azzi’s ear. “I better get to fuck you in this game-worn jersey when we get home later to make up for this humiliation.”

She pulled back just enough to see Azzi’s cheeks flush. It never ceased to amaze her that she could make Azzi Fudd blush. 

“I think that can be arranged… if you win the contest.”

Paige’s eyes widened as her heart clenched in her chest. “The contest?” 

She’d already won the contest. The Biggest Fan Contest. And although it was a bit embarrassing to be standing in a line or pre-pubescent children, Paige wasn’t sure what else she had left to prove.

Azzi nodded, entirely too calm for someone who had just casually introduced new information to Paige that felt like it was going to be a personal attack. “Yeah,” she said, drawing the word out innocently. “Everyone plays a game of knockout. The winner gets courtside seats to the season opener next year.”

Paige stared at her, then glanced around before turning her attention back to Azzi. 

“Bro, I don’t need those,” she said quickly, shaking her head at the terrible optics of this entire situation. “I’m not about to be out here cooking a bunch of kids on national television.”

The corner of Azzi’s mouth lifted. She was trying not to smile and absolutely failing, and maybe she was enjoying this just as much as their friends. 

“Yeah,” Azzi shrugged casually, “but you need to win if you wanna fuck me in this jersey tonight.”

Paige’s eyes went wide, her gaze flicking automatically toward the line of children, toward Gabby and Sarah, scanning for literally anyone who might have heard that, even though it had been quiet. Thankfully, it didn’t seem like anyone caught on. 

The announcer’s voice kicked back in, explaining the rules for knockout, but Paige barely registered any of it. The words blurred together, background noise to the fact that she was currently standing on a professional basketball court, about to compete against kids, with an entire arena watching.

“Are you serious right now, Az?” she asked, leaning in just enough to keep it between them. “They’re literal children.”

Azzi just shrugged, completely unfazed. “My number one fan would win for me.”

From somewhere behind them, Sarah leaned in to interject her voice into the conversation. Because apparently she felt it was needed. It wasn’t. 

“Yeah,” she nudged Paige’s shoulder playfully, “if you’re her true number one fan.”

Paige didn’t even turn fully as Gabby and Sarah snickered beside her.

“I don’t wanna hear shit from the B Team over here,” she shot back, finally throwing a glare over her shoulder that landed squarely on Gabby, taking note of the smug grin on her face. At least Paige had something to hold over her. 

“See if we babysit Julien anytime soon,” Paige added.  

“Please, Bueckers,” Gabby scoffed, already knowing how this would go. “He’s got Auntie Azzi wrapped around his finger.”

Paige opened her mouth to argue, but stopped because it was unfortunately very much true. Just last week, she’d gone over to Azzi’s after a long, brutal day of work and found her stretched across the bed in a fucking lingerie set. Purple lace. Form fitting. Literally perfect. Azzi was leaving for an away game the next morning and had wanted to give Paige a little “surprise,” she’d said coyly while grabbing Paige by the shirt and yanking her down onto the mattress.

Unfortunately for Paige, the only surprise she ended up getting was aggressive banging on the front door five minutes later. Apparently Gabby had been taking Julien for ice cream, saw both their cars in the driveway, and decided they absolutely needed to stop by and invite them too. And while it had been painfully obvious from both Paige and Azzi’s disheveled state what had been happening—and even more obvious from Gabby’s smug little expression that she knew exactly what she interrupted—Theo had batted his little eyelashes at Azzi and she cracked immediately. Yes, Paige ended up with her favorite ice cream, but if she was being honest, she would’ve preferred eating her girlfriend out instead.

She shook her head in disbelief as she turned back toward Azzi, already feeling the competitive itch starting to creep in whether she liked it or not.

This was a setup. A very public, very embarrassing setup, but a setup nonetheless. Still, if there was one thing Paige wasn’t about to do, it was lose. It’d been years since she’d actually played and even though this was a contest against children, she could already feel the competitiveness pumping through her veins. 

The last time she’d felt this riled up was last month during her fantasy football draft. She and Nika had spent the hour leading up to it trash talking over who would draft the better quarterback, so relentlessly that Stewie eventually tried using the “who can stay quiet the longest” game she used on Theo just to get them to shut the hell up. Paige, three beers deep at her kitchen table, had honest-to-God laughed directly in Nika’s face when she picked Drake Maye over Josh Allen. The stupidity of that decision became painfully obvious over the first three weeks of the season, when Maye’s tendency for dumb turnovers lost Nika her first three fantasy matchups. Meanwhile, Paige was sitting comfortably at the top of the league, undefeated—just like the Buffalo Bills—and never failed to rub it in Nika’s face just how dumb it was to put faith in Drake Maye and the fuckass New England Patriots. Needless to say, Nika was a fucking idiot.

Wearing shit eating grins, the players cleared out but still lingered close enough to watch. Paige sighed as a staff member waved the small group of winners into a loose line near the free throw lane. The kids clustered together, full of energy, bouncing on their toes with excitement. 

Paige stepped into place at the foul line, still trying to process how she’d gotten here, in this ridiculous situation, when a basketball was shoved into her hands.

Cool.

Great.

Fucking perfect.

She glanced down at the orange and white ball, then up again, only to realize the small redheaded girl in front of her—Gabby’s fan, if Paige remembered correctly—was staring at her like she was her mortal enemy.

Paige blinked, caught off guard by the intense glare before she let out a quiet laugh and leaned closer. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “I promise I’ll take it easy on you.”

The girl scoffed, tucking the ball under her arm. “Please,” the little spitfire laughed. “I’m going to wipe the floor with you.”

Paige’s eyebrows lifted. Oh. It was like that. 

She squatted down, matching the girl’s energy, a grin pulling at her mouth. “I’d like to see you try.”

From behind her, another squeaky voice chimed in. “Have you even touched a basketball before?”

Paige straightened slowly, turning her head to glance back at the second girl in line. For a brief moment, she wondered what had happened to respecting your elders.

“Yeah,” she finally shot back. “I played in college actually.”

The first girl snorted, then asked, “What was that? Twenty years ago?”

Paige’s eyes widened at the level of trash talk. She glanced over, and of course Gabby and Sarah were doubled over, laughing so hard they were practically gasping for air.

Paige narrowed her eyes at them, locking her jaw and pointing at them in warning before turning back to the girls in front of her.

“Just don’t cry when you lose to me, okay?” she said, voice calm and measured.

The girl behind her didn’t miss a beat. “Don’t cry when you throw your back out shooting.”

Paige’s mouth dropped open. She wasn’t even mad. Honestly she was a little impressed. Offended, sure. But still kind of impressed. And even more excited to crush them and earn her prize. Admittedly, she was playing for more than these little shits were even aware of.

Before she could get a response out, the whistle blew and chaos ensued. The girl in front of her slapped the ball right out of Paige’s hands before turning to toss up her own shot.

“What the hell!” Paige blurted, sprinting after it as it bounced away wildly, only for it to get nudged even farther away by a very deliberate tap from Azzi’s foot.

Paige shot her a look mid-chase. “Are you serious right now?”

Azzi just grinned, completely unrepentant.

Fucking unbelievable.

Paige finally scooped the ball, running back and barely setting her feet before she lifted into a quick jumper from the line.

Swish. 

The game moved fast after that. Shots up, shots missed, ball ricocheting everywhere, kids squealing when they stayed in, groaning when they didn’t. The players along the sidelines were absolutely no help whatsoever when it came to Paige. Yelling distractions, clapping in her face, accidentally bumping into her just enough to throw her off. At one point, Sarah literally tried to tip a rebound away from her.

“Yo!” Paige barked, laughing as she snatched it back. “Get off me!”

“Helping the youth!” Sarah shot back, retreating to hide behind Azzi. 

The crowd that had stayed behind started to catch onto it, cheering louder with each round, especially when it became very clear that, despite the obvious efforts against her, Paige was not going down without a fight. 

One by one, the line thinned. Until it was just her and the little redhead. Paige was in it too deep. She couldn’t lose now. Not with her pride on the line. Honestly, she wasn’t sure whether she’d get teased worse for beating a line of small children or losing to one. Only one of those options ended with her fucking Azzi later, though, and that’s really all that mattered. 

The ball rotated back around. Paige caught it clean as the redhead rushed her shot. It clanked off the rim and Paige took one quick breath before she lifted into her shot. The motion felt smooth and the ball dropped through the net.

Paige held her follow through longer than necessary as the arena erupted, stoking her already inflated ego. 

Arm still in the air, movement caught her eye. Azzi was crossing the court, arms stretched wide. Paige barely had time to brace before Azzi collided with her, jumping into her arms and wrapping around Paige like she’d just hit a game-winner in a playoff game.

Paige laughed, catching her easily, spinning her once as Azzi’s arms tightened around her neck.

“Hey you,” Paige said, breathless but still grinning as she steadied them.

Azzi didn’t let go right away and Paige could feel something a little more charged between them. Her smile softened as she looked at Azzi, reading the adoration in her eyes. 

“What about everyone watching, baby?” Paige asked, quieter now, picking up on the familiar look she was getting. One that usually ended up with Azzi’s lips on hers or her hand down her pants. 

Azzi just shrugged, one shoulder lifting like it was the simplest thing in the world. “It’s only a matter of time ‘til they get the picture they’re digging for anyway. Might as well do it on our time.”

And then Azzi leaned in. It was just a quick kiss, but everything else fell away. The noise. The lights. The crowd. To Paige, it felt like it was just them standing there in the middle of it as her heart thudded in her chest from more than just the adrenaline of winning the game. 

When they pulled back, the sound came crashing in again. Loud, whooping cheers that make Paige shake her head, laughing a little under her breath as heat climbed up her neck. 

“Hell yeah, Fudd!” Gabby yelled, topped off by a “It’s about damn time!” that Paige knew came from Nika. She’d recognize that voice anywhere. 

Paige couldn’t stop the dopey smile that spread across her face because Azzi had just…

Yeah.

There wasn’t really a way around it. Azzi had chosen her, right there, in front of everyone. Paige felt like she was floating on air, her heart hammering so hard it felt like it was trying to break free from her chest. 

She glanced around once more, catching the semi-shocked looks from some of the people around them, then back at Azzi, still a little dazed in the best way.

“Can I take you home now or what?” she asked, only half joking.

Azzi laughed, stepping back to look at her properly though not enough to slip free from her grasp. “I still have media,” she said. “And a team meeting.”

Paige sighed dramatically, dropping her head for emphasis. “Of course you do.”

“And I’ve gotta shower,” Azzi added, like that was a real issue.

Paige leaned in, pressing a brief kiss to her lips again before she could overthink it. 

“Save the shower for when we get back to your place, baby,” she said, a hint of a grin tugging at her mouth. 

Azzi’s brow lifted slightly, amused. “Yeah?”

Paige just nodded, stepping back and finally dropping her arms from around Azzi’s waist. 

“Yeah,” she said. “I plan on spending my night making sure you know I’m your number one fan.”

Azzi’s eyes darkened, but there wasn’t time to respond before she was being pulled away for media. 

Later that night, when they pulled into Azzi’s driveway, the adrenaline from the game hadn’t even begun to wear off. It sat under Paige’s skin, buzzing, like it had been since the moment Azzi looked at her on that court and decided not to hold back.

The house was quiet, a welcome reprieve from the chaos of the arena. Paige barely had time to close the door behind them before Azzi was on her.

Hands grabbing, pulling her in, mouth finding Paige’s with an urgency that sucked the breath out of her lungs. Azzi pushed, and Paige stumbled back a step, until her shoulders hit the wall. 

Crack.

The sound was unmistakable and Paige froze mid-kiss, her hands still gripping Azzi’s ass like a lifeline. 

Slowly, she turned her head, eyes tracking down the wall beside her. Pressed into the drywall, was a very clear, very fresh, shoulder-shaped dent in nearly the same spot Gabby had left one months and months earlier

She whipped her head back toward Azzi.

“Bro,” she said, incredulous, breath still uneven as her fingers dug in, pulling Azzi tighter against her. “Are you serious?”

Azzi barely even looked at it. She just shrugged, completely unbothered. “That’s your fault.” 

Paige laughed, knowing she didn’t have much of a leg to stand on for many reasons. She had spent the entire drive home running her mouth, leaning over at red lights, whispering things she knew would make Azzi wet, kissing along her neck, teasing her absolutely relentlessly with her fingers rubbing along Azzi’s inner thigh or slipping under the waistband of her sweats and cupping her soaking went cunt.

Okay, so maybe she walked into that one by riling up Azzi. Still…

She pushed off the wall, glanced at the dent, then back at Azzi, who was watching her now with that same look she’d had on the court. Well, mostly the same look. It had shifted to become a little darker and hungrier with much less patience threaded through. 

Paige dropped her head against Azzi’s shoulder in defeat. “I’m so backed up at work, baby,” she sighed, gesturing vaguely toward the wall behind her. “I don’t know when I’ll be able to get to this.”

Azzi shrugged. “I can just hire a handyman to take care of it, P.”

The words hit like a punch to the gut. Paige scoffed, her entire posture stiffening in an instant as she straightened. 

“Absolutely the fuck not.”

Azzi’s mouth twitched, her expression going just a shade too innocent for the game they both knew she was playing. “What?”

Paige narrowed her eyes, playfully twirling her finger in Azzi’s face. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” Azzi asked, pretending she didn't know exactly what she was doing.

Paige stepped forward, closing the space between them again, finger poking lightly into Azzi’s chest. “Ain’t no one doing work in this house but me.”

Azzi shrugged again, feigning indifference. “It’s not that deep. It’ll save you time.”

“It’s not that deep?” Paige shot back. “Okay. Yeah. Fine. And I’m gonna go out and buy an Indiana Fever jersey.”

Azzi stepped back just enough to look at her fully, eyes narrowing. “You wouldn’t.”

Paige laughed as she reached for Azzi again, pulling her back in, aiming for her mouth—but Azzi turned at the last second, lips landing on her cheek instead.

“Coward,” Paige muttered, undeterred, pressing another kiss just below her ear, then another along her jaw, crowding her space until Azzi had nowhere to go.

“Okay, you’re right,” Paige said between kisses, voice softer now but no less certain. “But I’m serious. Ain’t no one working on this house but me, Az.”

Azzi finally stilled, her hands coming up to rest lightly at Paige’s waist as she met her gaze again, something mischievous lingering there for a moment before it gave way to amusement.

“Was that also in the fine print I should’ve read before becoming your girlfriend?” she asked.

Paige grinned immediately, the expression easy and a little proud, thinking about all the little rules she’d made up over the past few months—half jokes, half excuses, all of them landing somewhere between teasing and real and somehow able to get Azzi to do whatever she wanted in the moment.

“Yep,” Paige nodded. “Clause five.”

Azzi shook her head, a quiet laugh slipping out of her as she leaned in just slightly. “Okay. Deal.”

Paige’s smile shifted, just a fraction, as something a little more intentional crept in. “It’s also in there that I get to dictate the terms of payment.”

Azzi’s brows lifted. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” Paige said, hands sliding down, settling low on her hips before slipping just beneath the waistband of her sweatpants, pulling her in closer. “And I’d like payment upfront this time.”

Azzi grinned and leaned in, kissing her again, slower this time but deeper, in a hungry, desperate way that made Paige absolutely throb.

“I think that can be arranged,” Azzi murmured against her mouth. “What were you thinking?”

Paige hummed, letting her forehead rest briefly against Azzi’s as she pretended to consider it, even though she’d had an answer ready since the second Azzi mentioned it earlier.

“There was talk of a shower,” she said finally, lips brushing hers as she spoke. “I think we can start with that.”

Azzi smiled, just barely. “And then?”

“And then I was also promised a reward for winning that game of knockout.”

Azzi let out a quiet laugh, pulling back just enough to look at her. “Kissing you in front of thousands of people after you beat children wasn’t reward enough?”

She leaned in again, voice dropping, grin turning borderline feral. “That was pretty cool,” Paige said. “But I also heard something about fucking you in a game-worn jersey.”

Azzi’s reaction was immediate. Her smile shifted, pupils widening so fast it made Paige’s stomach drop in the best possible way.

“Mmm,” she said, almost to herself. “Yeah, baby. I can definitely get behind that.”

She didn’t give Paige a chance to respond. Just grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the stairs, the momentum carrying them both as they moved, bumping into walls, into each other, laughter slipping in between kisses that they kept finding their way back to.

Paige caught herself looking at the fresh dent in the drywall over Azzi’s shoulder just before she was tugged forward and it slipped out of view. A few months ago, she would’ve already been mentally calculating what tools she’d need to patch it. How long it would take. Whether the paint color would match.

Now, though? Now she just let Azzi drag her upstairs. 

Maybe that was the funny thing about all of this. Paige had spent years fixing other people’s houses, patching cracks, rebuilding things to be stronger than they were before. And somehow, without even meaning to, Azzi had done the same thing to her.