Page 22 of Gamebreaker

One of the older kids raised his hand. "Are y'all friends or...?"

"No," we said in unison.

"We're coworkers," I added. "In the loosest possible sense of that word. I'm volun-told, she's stuck with me. It's basically a workplace sitcom waiting to happen."

"I don't have coworkers," Cam said. "I have teammates."

"And now you have me. Congratulations. I'm like a teammate, but worse at sports and better at sarcasm."

"That's not the endorsement you think it is."

"I'm not trying to endorse myself. I'm trying to manage expectations. It's called self-awareness, Captain. You should try it sometime."

Cam grabbed a basketball, held it out to me with an expression that suggested she was imagining throwing it at my head. "Let's just start."

I took the ball. Our fingers brushed. That jolt of awareness was back, sudden and unwelcome, and I saw Cam's eyes flicker before she locked down her expression again.

Awkward. This was so awkward.

"So," I said brightly, holding up the ball like I was presenting evidence in court. "This is a basketball. It's round. It's orange. Sometimes it's brown, which is confusing from a branding perspective. It bounces, which is fun. That's the extent of my knowledge. Thank you for coming to my TED talk."

"It's always orange in regulation play," Cam said flatly.

"Okay, well, I don't know what regulation play is, so that information doesn't help me."

"It's official games."

"As opposed to unofficial games? Do people play unofficial basketball? Is there a basketball black market I don't know about?"

"Can you just—" Cam stopped herself, visibly counting to ten. "Let's work on shooting form."

"Let's not and say we did."

"Harper."

"Cameron."

"It's Cam."

"Is it, though? Because Cameron feels more fitting. Very formal. Very serious. Very 'I'm going to teach you basketball whether you like it or not.'"

"I am going to teach you basketball whether you like it or not."

"See? Cameron."

Cam closed her eyes for a second, like she was praying for patience. Then she moved behind me, and suddenly all my smart-ass comments evaporated because she was close. Too close.

"I'm going to position you," she said, her voice carefully controlled. "For the demonstration."

"That sounds vaguely threatening."

"It's instructional."

"That's what they all say."

Her hands settled on my hips, and the world tilted sideways.

Holy shit.