Yours For Now; Mine For A Year

♠ Austin Hames ♠

"Good day sir." My driver scurried towards me, head bowed as he reached for the traveller's bag on my hand. "I hope it wasn't stressful sir."

I didn't bother replying.

Instead, just moved past him to my car whose door was opened by a guard and closed once I was in.

The driver rushed to keep my bag in the boot of the car, before entering the driver's seat.

Once the car started, we were soon leaving the airport and on the road.

As he drove past the city, my thoughts wandered to how long it had been since I was here.

Three years? Four? I couldn't recall.

But of course, that was expected from me, being the world's best basketball player.

I had to play over eighty games a year, and got short breaks which I wouldn't want to spend travelling from other States to New York just to spend time with my family.

But don't get me wrong, I love playing basketball.

Sadly though, at the age of thirty, I sensed I was nearing my retirement.

Not that basketball players retired so early, it was just that, for me, after the ankle injury two months ago, I wouldn't deny that my skills had been deteriorating.

And now, I'd been given a six month break to heal completely.

That meant I wouldn't be able to finish in the NBA.

Sad, but a good would be coming out of it.

Thankfully, I had a second option.

Apart from being a basketball player, I was the successor to one of New York's biggest companies, and after thirty years of my life, I could finally take over my father's company.

Also, after three years, I could finally see my family.

So now here I was, a few weeks from the holiday and finally a few minutes away from seeing my family, not sure how they'd react to meeting me.

***

♠ Kim Stans ♠

"Girl, don't tell me you're going to be single again this holiday?" Katie greeted me as soon as I collapsed on the sofa.

"Good afternoon to you too." I retrieved my phone from the pocket of the black jeans I had on.

"I don't like the idea of my friend being single every time." She continued, making her way towards me.

"I'm way too busy to even consider having someone as a date." Which was true and she obviously knew that.

She took a seat opposite the couch I was sitting on. "Still, I feel like it might help your writing if you're able to feel what you write."

That made me chuckle, because I was sure she had to be joking.

I was great at writing even without feeling what I wrote.

As the world's best romance writer, I had my own secrets... I did not believe in love.

Love was just something best kept as fantasy, but certainly not worth feeling. It never ends well.

Never.

And my parents' relationship had helped to fuel my thoughts on love.

They had gotten a divorce the day my dad was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, and she left us, not even caring that it might actually have a cure.

When he survived it, I knew then and there that love didn't truly exist.

Which was why I decided to help those who didn't have a happy ending by creating stories where they could feel what isn't real.

I might never have fallen in love, but I was able to create people that'd do so.

"I really need to not be distracted during this holiday and you know why,"

"Okay, so have you thought about what sport you'd be writing on?" She asked, seeming to understand that I wasn't interested in the love discussion any further, but knowing the friend I had, she'd certainly bring it up again.

"I was thinking basketball,"

The holiday was supposed to be a holiday. But for me, it was going to be work-filled.

I'd written almost all genres of novels except one. The sports genre.

That was expected from someone like me who knew nothing about sports.

But then readers just had to start craving for the sports genre and so tons of writers are feeding their hunger.

And if I don't want to lose my readers to them, I had to submit a one to my publishers two weeks after January.

"Why basketball? You know nothing about it." She said what I was already aware of. "Why not football? You could ask your dad a thing or two about that."

"Yeah," I leaned back against the couch, "but Suzy's already writing on that."

Her expression shifted to disgust at that name.

Susan Kurt was twenty six years (a year older than I was) and the second best writer worldwide, but that didn't mean she couldn't be the first at any time.

We were rivals and although I rarely ever saw her, the little times we actually encountered each other was always chaotic.

When my publishers had told me to write about sports, I'd told them I couldn't since I knew nothing about it.

But when I found out Suzy was going to write a football romance, my blood began boiling.

If she was to write it, there was no way she wouldn't end up being the best writer, so I had to write something about sport.

Since she'd chosen football, I had to go with another famous sport. The first thing that came to my head was basketball.

But then there was just one problem. I hated sports and knew nothing about it.

Like she could read my mind, she asked, "what do you plan on doing then about your lack of knowledge?"

My shoulders lifted in a shrug. "I could learn."

She let out a chortle, earning a glare from me, "you want to learn? You want to learn about sport?" Another chortle.

I rolled my eyes, knowing she was right since I was terrible at sitting down for hours trying to learn something.

And if it was about sport, I'd certainly fall asleep.

"Do you have any better option?" I asked with a roll of eyes.

She shrugged, "maybe you could date a basketball player," before I could offer her another eye roll, she added, "just for fun."

"No thank you," I'd dated tons of people just for fun, but, "where on earth do I want to get a basketball player?"

Her lips curled upwards, as she nodded, her coffee brown hair moving with that motion. "I know one you can date."

Of course she did. "And where would you find one?"

"You can date my brother." Her gaze shifted to whatever was over my shoulder. "Oh here he is,"

Rising to my feet, I pivoted to see the figure walking into the house.

He strode into the parlor, his tall frame commanding attention. His sharp jawline, prominent cheekbones and piercing black eyes, made him look like a sculptured masterpiece.

He possessed broad shoulders and powerful build that seemed to fill the doorway.

His eyes locked onto mine, and strangely enough, I felt my heart skip a beat.

A slow, confident smile spread across his face, filling the room. His eyes seemed to sear holes into my soul, the intensity making me feel naked.

I'd almost forgotten about Katie's presence till she said, "Austin!"