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Cat also stood along the sidelines, watching as the teams were introduced. The very best players from the teams elected to attend the event, and for Cat,

it almost as if it were her own All-Star game.

“Someday,” she whispered.

And then it was her turn.

The crowd was quiet, waiting. When the smooth voice sounded over the intercom system, Cat felt a familiar thrill rush through her veins.

“Introducing the point guard for the Birmingham Badgers and first round pick in this year’s WBL draft, number three, Catherine Hodges!”

She ran out onto the court to the enthusiastic cheers of five thousand people, smiling and waving to the crowd as she nodded to her opponents and settled

herself among them.

And then there was silence.

Absolute silence.

The expectation of the crowd was a palpable thing as necks craned, waiting for the one they had come here to see.

A low, reverberating bass hum flowed out into the stadium like an ocean wave washing onto the shore. The crowd gave an anticipatory cheer before falling

silent again. The bass hum continued, drawing out the moment until it became almost painful.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, after a four year absence from the court, it is my great pleasure to reintroduce to you, wearing her retired number 34, the Female

Player of the Century, the incomparable Pallas Dylan ‘The Goddess’ Lambert!!!”

As one, the crowd jumped to its feet, cheering so loudly that Cat thought her eardrums would burst. Still, she couldn’t help grinning as Dylan, black braid

streaming behind her, ran through the gauntlet of security and onto the court, waving to the crowd and sending them into fits of near apoplexy.

“God-dess! God-dess! God-dess! God-dess!”

Five thousand voices chanted, accompanied by five thousand pairs of feet stamping and five thousand sets of hands clapping. It was nearly enough to

rattle the fillings in Cat’s teeth, but she didn’t really notice, too busy clapping and stamping and chanting with the rest. Dylan gave her a little smirk before

shaking her head. Cat smirked right back at her and began chanting all the louder.

Red roses flew down from the stands like fragrant rain. Bending, Dylan picked up one bloom that had landed closest to her feet and, inhaling its pleasing

scent, lifted the rose and waved once again at the crowd, sending them into another frenzy that lasted for a good five minutes before finally beginning to

wind down.

When at last some semblance of normalcy returned to the stadium, the players shook hands and retired to their respective benches.

Dylan pulled the soaked towel away from her face and looked back at a staring Cat, one eyebrow arched. “Problem?”

Taking the response as somewhat of an invitation, Cat slid closer to Dylan while checking to make sure they were out of the earshot of anyone else. “Are

you…feeling okay?”

“Right as a trivet, as my grandmother used to say. Why?”

Cat shrugged a little, then took another quick look around. “Oh, I dunno. It’s….” Breaking off, she sighed in frustration, and tried again. “Your game. It

seems a little…off?”

“Off?” Dylan asked, straightening on the bench. “Off how?”

Cat thought for a moment. “Well, maybe not ‘off’ off. Maybe just…flat?”

“Flat.”

Cat was finding it hard to think with those piercing eyes all but pinning her to the bench. “Yeah. You know. Not….” She sighed again, shaking her head.

“Forget I said anything, alright? It’s stupid. I don’t know where my mind is today.”

“No. I’m interested in knowing what you’re getting at, Cat. How is my game off?” Her lips curl. “And batting those eyes at me will not make me forget the

topic.”

Laughing softly, Cat pelted Dylan with her towel and moved closer until their thighs were casually touching. “You’re a nut, you know that?”

“I do try. Now quit trying to change the subject.”

“Fine.” Cat steepled her fingers and stared down at her hands. “You’re, I mean, you’re Dylan Lambert, you know? The Goddess. But you’re, kinda, playing

like a….”

“Mere mortal?”

“Yeah.” Cat felt herself blushing and wiped a hand across her forehead as if to wash it away. “Told you it was stupid.”

When Dylan turned to her, her eyes were nothing but warm, and kind. “It’s not stupid, Cat. In fact, I’m kinda flattered that you’re concerned about it.”

Wide eyes met hers, and Dylan’s smile broadened. “You are?”

“Yup.” A beat of silence. “Remember what I said, though. Bring your A game to work and leave the razzle-dazzle for the highlight films.”

“Yeah, but isn’t this almost one big highlight film?”

Dylan chuckled. “In a way, maybe, but we’ve also got a teammate who isn’t a basketball star. I think she deserves her time in the light too.”

“You’re right,” Cat replied, nodding. “I didn’t think of that.”

“Well, we already know who the brains of this outfit is,” Dylan quipped, smirking. “Looks like we’re up again. Ready?”

“Just remember, Ms. Goddess. Paybacks are a female dog.”

“Oh yeah, I’m shaking already. Tiny.”

Cat slumped down on the bench, huffing. Grabbing the towel Dylan had thoughtfully draped around her neck, she wiped the sweat pouring liberally down

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