I’m sorry but Jess had become so selfish lately. She’s completely stopped passing to Azzi. It’s like she doesn’t trust her. Instead she drives in against three players and sometimes she gets it while other times she doesn’t. Why are none of our guards trying to take it to the rim right now? At least draw a foul.
i see a lot of people laughing about paige’s awkwardness/hesitancy to hug azzi at the draft but when you think about it, their reality is genuinely so sad. if they show affection to either, or literally any form of physical touch that would be normal for teammates and friends, they are deemed unprofessional because they’re held to a double standard, and so they have to overthink all of their moves in front of a camera. but if they don’t show affection to each other, their relationship comes under fire. people question their loyalty and their character.
to have the purest thing in your life under a microscope of constant criticism, hate, and discourse is a sad thing. they will truly never win because the one thing the world hates more than successful women is two successful women in love with each other. they aren’t valued as athletes anymore, but reduced to undeserving people with everything handed to them. their character and their work is diminished and forgotten
i have faith it will become better soon as the media attention die off and they continue to prove their worth is not in their relationship (which is not their job nor obligation to you or i, but something they will do regardless), but for now, it’s a very grim truth
"She hadn’t been teary-eyed again since looking at the photos from their wedding, but the picture of them sitting side by side on Azzi’s roof labeled ‘July 2019’ brought emotion she tried desperately to fight off.
'What’s this one?' Fallon asked when Paige’s fingers stilled.
She took a deep breath so as to not show how sappy she was being, clearing her throat. 'This was the night we had our first kiss. And I told Mama I was going to marry her someday.'”
Or: paige takes a trip down memory lane, looking through old photo albums with her three, bright-eyed and full of life, children.
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a/n: title from 'pink skies' by zach bryan.
highly suggest listening to this song while reading, it's one of my favorites ever ♥️
here's a surprise special one shot i randomly got inspo for. it's a little different from what i normally write, so let me know what you think!!
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Sundays in the Bueckers household was a sacred day for several reasons. For starters, they would wake up bright and early for Sunday service, in which the kids would reluctantly put on their ‘church clothes’ (except for Fallon, who was entering her ‘tom boy’ phase, and Paige was not about to repeat her childhood by forcing her daughter to wear something she didn’t want to).
After the service was over, they would go to the diner down the block as a family, sharing pancakes and milkshakes with their hearts full. Back at the house, especially during the springtime, the kids would play outside with their friends in the neighborhood.
At night, Grandpa Tim and Noni (the name Micheal had given Katie that stuck) would come over, playing with their grandkids and having a barbecued meal out on the back deck.
Which meant that by bedtime, the kids were usually way past the point of exhaustion. Sometimes baths weren’t even given, their eyes too tired to stay open, let only hold themselves upright inside of the tub.
So, Paige was pretty surprised when on this Sunday evening in May, her kids seemed pretty lively for 8:00. They didn’t complain about bathtime, or pajamas, or being told they could only watch one more episode before it was time for bed.
As they made their way upstairs, Fallon tugged on Paige’s pajama pants and asked, “Can you read us a story tonight, Mommy?”
And with those big doe eyes that Paige could never say no to, she nodded. “Go pick something out from the playroom, yeah?”
Fallon didn’t need to be told twice, taking off up the stairs and zipping past her siblings. “Who’s bed should we go in?” Paige asked, picking up Hope and placing her on her hip, the two year old making grabby hands when the stairs were apparently too much of a workout.
“Mine!” Micheal called out, sprinting toward his room.
They made themselves comfortable in his bed, with Paige leaning against the headboard, Micheal cuddled up toward her side, and Hope nestled between her legs. Fallon came back a minute later, grunting dramatically as she carried a heavy book.
“Whatcha got there?” Paige asked, taking the book out of her hands to lighten the load. When she realized what the cover was, her breath was almost taken away. “My wedding album?”
“Mhm.” Fallon smiled, curling up against Paige’s other side.
“Baby, this isn’t a story.”
“I know. But I want you to tell us about your wedding. And show us the pictures.” Fallon smiled softly, and the idea was so adorable Paige couldn’t help but pepper her face with kisses. “Ew, mommy!”
“Alright, I’ll stop.” Paige laughed, before opening the cover to the first page. “Have you guys ever looked through this before?”
“No, I’ve only seen the pictures we have around the house.” Micheal answered, hooking his chin on his mothers shoulder to get a better look.
The first page was dedicated to a photo they had framed in their living room, on an end-table beside the couch. It was one of Paige’s favorites, one that was captured during their first dance. Paige had impulsively decided to dip Azzi, even though they agreed that she wouldn’t, which caused Azzi to wildly laugh while Paige beamed from ear to ear.
She flipped to the next page, which had a few photos of Azzi getting ready. The first one was her in the makeup chair, not paying attention to the camera as she looked at her phone. “Mama’s so beautiful without makeup.” Fallon said, pointing to that picture.
“I know, right? It’s unfair.” Paige smiled. Then, she pointed to the next picture, where Colleen was taking the phone from her hands. “This was Aunty Colleen taking Mama’s phone ‘cause we wouldn’t stop texting each other.”
“Is that a bad thing?” Micheal asked curiously.
“On a normal day, no. But it’s a tradition that you aren’t supposed to talk or see each other before the ceremony on your wedding day.”
“That’s so stupid, it's your wedding day! You should be able to talk to each other!” Micheal scoffed, and normally Paige would lecture him for saying one of their ‘bad words’, but in this case, she actually agreed.
The next one they stopped to look at was Paige, dressed freshly in her suit, doing a dumb pose with some of her wedding party. “KK!” Hope pointed excitedly.
“Yeah, bug. That’s Aunty KK.” Paige leaned down to press a kiss against her curls. “You guys like my suit?”
“Yes, mommy. You look very pretty.” Fallon answered, before turning to the next page herself. The young girl gasped, her hand stilling at the bottom of the page. “Wow, look at Mama.”
Paige could only agree with that reaction, considering hers was ten-times more dramatic the first time she saw Azzi in her wedding dress. She still remembers how taken aback she was, with her strapless lace dress, a veil to match, and hair pinned up with curls framing her face.
She saw her reaction again as she turned the page, at the end of the aisle, where the camera caught her bringing a hand to her face trying to stop the overflowing tears. “Why were you sad, Mommy?” Micheal asked when he saw the photo.
“No, baby those were happy tears. I was just so happy to be marrying your mama. Especially when she looked like that.” Paige put emphasis on the picture of Azzi walking down the aisle, arm interlocked with Tim’s, which made the older two children laugh.
A few pages later found their first kiss as a married couple, and another one of Paige’s personal favorites, where the photographer captured them as they pulled apart, smiles covering both of their faces, looking at one another like they were the only two people in the world.
The kids got a kick out of the photos of the reception, especially of KK and Jana doing the worm, which Hope in particular really thought was funny, giggling so much that her pacifier fell out of her mouth.
The last few pages were more intimate. Paige and Azzi dancing, with Azzi’s head rested in the crook of the blonde woman’s neck. Another one of them seated at a table, Azzi shoving a piece of cake into Paige’s mouth, laughing so that perfect bunny-tooth smile was on full display.
Then, the last photo. Paige’s absolute favorite. “Mommy, you look so happy.” Fallon pointed out the same photo, which made Paige smile, tears building in blue eyes. It was Paige and Azzi leaving the after party, a photo caught on Nai’s digital camera at three o’clock in the morning. They stood outside of the bar, Azzi barefoot and exhausted as Paige held her heels, their arms interlocked with Azzi’s head resting on her shoulder.
Paige was looking down at her, the signature ‘azzi’ smile etched into her face. She remembers how happy she was in this moment, how fucking lucky she was to have married her favorite person in the entire world.
“You okay, Mommy?” Micheal, in true oldest child form, asked after spotting the stray tears that had fallen.
Paige nodded and wiped them quickly, “I’m okay. These are happy tears, too.” She shut the book quickly, lifting up Hope so she could climb out of the bed. “Alright, it’s officially bedtime.”
She kissed Micheal goodnight and shut out his light before carrying Hope into her bedroom down the hall. “Go get under the covers, I’ll be in your room in a minute.” Paige told Fallon, who thankfully listened.
When she returned to Fallon’s room, the seven year-old had already fallen asleep, tucked underneath the unicorn comforter Azzi had gotten her for her first ‘big girl bed.’ Paige knelt down to place a kiss on her forehead, whispering, “Goodnight, my love.”
Just as she was about to shut the door, she heard a faint, “Mommy?” She turned around to find Fallon sitting up now, looking at her with the indecisive look she clearly inherited from Azzi.
“What is it, bug?”
“Can we… look at more pictures tomorrow night?” Fallon asked quietly, biting her lip as if she asked for a million dollars or a horse or something.
Paige chuckled, crossing the room to tuck her daughter back in, kissing her forehead again. “Of course, baby. Now get some sleep.”
—-
The following night, Paige and the kids fell into the same routine, tucked into Micheal’s bed, this time with a photo album Azzi had made titled ‘2025.’
“This was one of the best years of my life.” Paige told them as she started flipping through some of the photos.
“It was when you went number one, right? And got drafted to the Wings?” Micheal asked excitedly. He was definitely the child that was most invested in both her and Azzi’s careers, always asking to watch footage of old games or finding highlight reels on youtube.
“Yeah, but that’s not why.” Paige stopped at a photo, her thumb hovering over the corner. It was arguably one of the more famous pictures of the couple, the classic all-star weekend moment of Paige greeting Azzi at her party. “It was ‘cause I finally got to tell the world how much I love your Mama.”
The older two children hummed at those words, though Paige knew they didn't fully understand the significance of them. “Is this from the championship?” Fallon asked, pointing at another classic photo of Paige shoving confetti into Azzi’s face.
“Yeah. That’s probably top five best days of my life.”
“What are the other ones?”
“Let’s see…” Paige started counting on her fingers. “The day I married your Mama. The day you were born.” She pointed toward Micheal, “The day you were born.” She lightly elbowed Fallon, earning a delighted giggle in response. “And the day this one was born.” Paige smiled as she pinched Hope’s chubby cheeks.
They finished looking through the album shortly after that, and Paige had just finished reminding them that they needed to be up extra early for school the following day when Micheal said, “We’re still seeing Mama on Sunday, right?”
Paige nodded, flicking off his light as they exited his bedroom. “Yep. And Grandpa Tim’s coming to stay all weekend before that.”
All three children got excited at this, which Paige was grateful for, always feeling guilty when she had to leave her family for work. It was rare in her days of retirement, but this was a brand agreement she couldn’t get out of.
After promising they could look at another album the next night, Paige finally was able to get all of the kids to sleep before crashing herself.
—-
The next three nights had continued with this routine, where either Micheal or Fallon would pick out a new photo album, and Paige would go through it, sharing stories and reminiscing on the past.
Thursday night was a rough one. She had been hoping they wouldn’t pick this album, had even considered hiding it so they couldn’t find it, but alas, Fallon came tumbling into the room with the scrapbook labeled ‘The Early Years.’
Paige still remembers teasing Azzi about how cheesy the title was, but the younger woman had simply rolled her eyes and said, ‘you’re going to be thanking me for putting this all together one day.’
Which was true, because here she was with their babies, looking at embarrassing old photos of her younger self. Micheal had full on belly-laughed at a photo of Paige blushing while Azzi blew a kiss at her. Underneath it said ‘when she had a crush on me but refused to admit it.’
“Did Mama write that?” Micheal asked when he noticed the handwriting.
Paige nodded, “Yeah, but she was lying, obviously.”
“Mommy, please. You obviously had a crush on Mama, you look so shy!”
She hadn’t been teary-eyed again since looking at the photos from their wedding, but the picture of them sitting side by side on Azzi’s roof labeled ‘July 2019’ brought emotion she tried desperately to fight off.
“What’s this one?” Fallon asked when Paige’s fingers stilled.
She took a deep breath so as to not show how sappy she was being, clearing her throat. “This was the night we had our first kiss. And I told Mama I was going to marry her someday.”
“And what did Mama say?”
Paige smiled fondly at the memory, letting out a watery laugh. “I remember thinking she was going to be so mad at me for saying that. Or make fun of me or something.” She wiped the tears as best as she could against her shoulder, both of her hands occupied by Hope, who had fallen asleep in her arms. “But she just said, ‘as long as you get me a rock for a ring and I never have to work again.’”
The two still-awake children laughed at that, “Yeah. That sounds like Mama.”
—-
Sunday morning was different than their usual this time. Paige arrived home from New York to an empty house, with the kids and Tim still at Sunday service. She made herself busy, cleaning up loose toys in the playroom, putting away the groceries she had ordered, and stopping at the market to buy flowers for Azzi.
She jumped slightly when she heard a honk outside, grabbing the bouquet of lilies before exiting out the front door. “Hi, guys!” Paige said excitedly as she entered the passenger seat.
“Mommy! Mommy!” Hope babbled, and Paige reached forward to tickle her tummy, beaming at the giggle the toddler let out.
“We missed you, Mommy!” Fallon unbuckled herself to kiss Paige’s cheek, “Grandpa Tim let us have breakfast for dinner last night.”
“Hey, that was supposed to stay between us!” Tim fake-scolded.
“Well, I hope they were on good behavior at least.” Paige said, pretending to be strict even though she probably would have let them even have ice cream for dinner if they asked.
Tim pulled out of the driveway once Fallon was buckled back in, “They were very good, don’t worry.”
The drive wasn’t too far, and within ten minutes they had arrived. Paige caught Micheal peering out the window through the rearview mirror, him whispering, “I can’t wait to see Mama.”
Tim took Hope out of her car seat and carried her, allowing Paige to hold the hands of the other two. “You want to carry them this time?” Paige asked Micheal, gesturing toward the flowers. He nodded, accepting them tentatively and holding the bouquet against his chest.
The path had become familiar to them, littered with sunflowers and daisies. It was late-May, meaning the flowers were freshly bloomed, and the sun would begin to set any minute.
Eventually, they reached the spot, pausing as their destination came into view. “Go ahead, baby.” Paige spoke softly to Micheal.
He nodded, kneeling down and placing the flowers at the edge of the grave. “These are for you, Mama. Happy birthday.”
In the year since Azzi had passed, Paige had done her best to be strong for her kids. It was the hardest thing she ever had to do, second to the all-consuming grief that always sat directly in her heart; having to still be a mother even when it felt like her world was ending.
But, there were times where, even as strong as she was, she couldn’t keep the emotion inside. Today was one of those days, with silent tears pouring down her face as she knelt beside her son, who was now sobbing into his hands.
“It’s okay, bug. It’s okay.” She whispered gently as she wrapped an arm around him, her tears flowing even harder as he turned to collapse into her chest.
Fallon moved to kneel on the other side of Micheal, hugging both him and Paige. After a moment, she sat up again, looking at Paige with the doe-eyes she inherited from her mother, “Can we pray?”
“Of course.” She looked down at Micheal, who had calmed down for the most part, but his face was still red and blotchy. “You wanna pray, too?”
He nodded, taking Paige’s hand. Tim now knelt beside Fallon, nestling Hope with one arm and taking Fallon’s other hand.
Paige took a deep breath before bowing her head, “Dear God, we ask that you show our Azzi even more love on this special day. The day that you gave her life.”
She breathed out again when she felt herself begin to choke up. “We ask that you offer her nothing but eternal peace, today and everyday. That you allow her to watch over us always, as we already keep her in our hearts in everything we do.”
She opened her eyes briefly to look over at her kids and Tim, “You guys want to say anything else?”
Tim shook his head, as did Micheal, but Fallon bit her lip in that indecisive way she always did. “Can I?”
“Always, baby. You don’t have to ask.” Paige offered, watching as her daughter relaxed slightly.
Fallon bowed her head again, “And God,” She started, and Paige’s heart burned at the rise of emotion in the seven year old’s voice. “Please watch over Mommy, too. She misses Mama, like a lot. And I don’t want her to be sad forever.”
The dam broke fully now, Paige unable to control the tears at her daughter's concerns for her. She didn’t even know what to say, how to respond to something so beautiful and honest.
Thankfully, Tim took over. “We pray in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.”
After most of their tears subsided, the family took turns talking to Azzi the way they always did when they visited her grave weekly, sometimes more. Fallon told Azzi about the boy she liked in her class, which Paige made a mental note to follow up about later. Hope sang her own version of ‘happy birthday’, and Micheal talked about his first baseball tournament coming up the following weekend.
“I wish you could be here for it.” Their son said, reaching out to trace Azzi’s name on the grave. “But I know you’ll be watching.”
Tim gathered the kids once the sun was beginning to set, saying to Paige, “Why don’t I bring them to the car and give you a minute?”
Paige nodded, grateful for the rare moment alone with her wife. Once they were out of ear shot, she allowed herself to break again.
“Hey, baby.” She let out a watery laugh, “I know you’re making fun of me so hard for crying right now.” She looked up to the sky and smiled warmly. “I miss you so fucking much, Az. It’s been almost a year and it still hurts. All the time.”
Paige exhaled again, before continuing. “I just need a sign that you’re here. That you’re with me. Because when I see you in butterflies, or in five’s or thirty-five’s, it makes it a little easier. Knowing you’re still with us. So, please. Give me anything.”
Paige paused, partially expecting a torrential downpour to start, or some extremely obvious sign that would ease some of her pain. But nothing changed, so she accepted defeat. When her eyes caught the flowers she bought, she smirked a little. “They were out of any pink flowers. That’s why I got the purple lily’s, but I thought about lying to you and saying I chose purple on purpose.”
She laughed again, “But I know you’ll always love pink. Fallon’s the same way now. Pink unicorns, pink walls, pink nail polish. By the way, she had yet to tell me about this boy - -“
Paige stopped short, gasping when she took in her surroundings. The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, and the sky had completely transformed into different shades of pink. Light pink covered most of the sky, with a darker pink and purple surrounding the lowering sun.
“Well,” Paige beamed, looking directly up to where she knew her wife was. “Guess there’s my sign, huh?”
She took out her phone to capture the view, before tucking the device back into her pocket. “Happy 40th, Az. I wish you were here physically, but I’m just happy you’re here at all.”
She blew a kiss upward, giving one last goodbye. “I love you. More than you’ll ever know.” She stood after that, brushing the dirt that had collected on her pants.
“Oh, and don’t forget. When I finally meet you up there, we’re finishing that last game of Monopoly. And I absolutely will win.”
And she meant every word of that, she always did. Because even though she would never, ever, in a million years, understand why God would take Azzi from her; why God would take someone so good, so kind and beautiful, away from her family…
she never once wavered in the belief that God would reunite them again.
*
a/n: i hope you enjoyed! please let me know what you think, and if you would like to see me write more in this style in the future :)
Buckle up. This one is, by far, my favorite of the group. I hope you love it at least half as much as I do! xx Elle
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The tires of the black Mercedes crunched over fresh powder as Azzi turned onto the private road leading to Paige's cabin. "Cabin" was a laughable understatement. The sprawling timber and glass structure that emerged through the snow-laden pines was more mansion than cozy cabin, all soaring ceilings and floor-to-ceiling windows that promised breathtaking views of the White Mountains.
Azzi killed the engine and sat for a moment, hands still gripping the steering wheel, watching fat snowflakes drift past the windshield. The car itself was a gift, presented to her three months ago with typical Paige nonchalance, “You need something reliable for winter, baby. The keys are on the counter.” As if a sixty-thousand-dollar vehicle was as casual as buying someone coffee.
She exhaled slowly, her breath fogging in the cooling interior. Two years ago, she'd been sleeping on Caroline’s couch, wearing the same three outfits on rotation, calculating whether she could afford both dinner and her biology textbook. Now she was pulling up to a luxury mountain retreat in a car that cost more than her mother probably made in a year.
The thought of her mother sent the familiar pang through her chest – duller now than it used to be, but still there. Still aching.
Azzi grabbed her suitcase from the passenger seat and stepped out into the cold. The air bit at her cheeks, crisp and clean, carrying the scent of pine and woodsmoke. Paige had clearly arrived earlier and started a fire. Of course she had. Paige thought of everything.
The front door opened before Azzi reached it.
"There's my girl."
Paige stood backlit in the doorway, blonde hair pulled back in a loose bun, wearing dark jeans and a cream cashmere sweater that Azzi knew was impossibly soft. At thirty-eight, Paige Bueckers carried herself with the easy confidence of someone who'd built an empire from nothing and knew exactly what she was worth. She was beautiful in that sharp, commanding way that had made Azzi's stomach flip the first time they'd met. All clean lines and intense blue eyes that seemed to see straight through whatever walls you tried to build.
"Hi," Azzi said, suddenly shy despite everything, despite the fact that Paige had seen every inch of her, knew every sound she made.
Paige's expression softened. She stepped aside, gesturing Azzi in from the cold. "Come here. You must be freezing."
The interior was exactly as stunning as Azzi had remembered – vaulted ceilings with exposed beams, a stone fireplace that dominated one wall, leather furniture that looked butter-soft, and those windows showcasing the winter wonderland outside. Warmth enveloped her immediately, along with the scent of the fire and something cooking that made her stomach rumble.
"I made soup," Paige said, taking Azzi's bag and setting it aside. "Figured you'd be hungry after the drive."
"You made soup?" Azzi raised an eyebrow, shrugging out of her coat.
"Okay, fine. I had it delivered from that French place you like and I'm keeping it warm." Paige grinned, unrepentant. "But I did start the fire myself. That counts for something."
Azzi laughed, and just like that, the nervousness melted away. This was them. This was easy.
Paige pulled her close, and Azzi went willingly, tucking her face against that soft sweater, breathing in Paige's cologne – something expensive and subtle that Azzi could never quite identify but would recognize anywhere. Strong arms wrapped around her, and for a moment they just stood there, swaying slightly, while the fire crackled and snow fell silently outside.
"I'm glad you came," Paige murmured against her hair. "I know your friends wanted you to go to Cancun."
"I wanted to be here more."
It was true. When Kelis had pitched the spring break trip, well, winter break, but the sentiment was the same, Azzi had felt only the faintest flicker of FOMO. Sun and beaches and cheap tequila versus this. Versus Paige. Versus being somewhere she actually felt wanted and safe and seen? There was no contest.
Paige pulled back just enough to look at her, those blue eyes searching. "You sure? Because if you're just–"
"I'm sure." Azzi stretched up to kiss her, soft and brief. "I promise. Now feed me before I perish dramatically on your very expensive rug."
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Two years earlier
The Bueckers Hotel in downtown Portland was the kind of place Azzi had only ever seen in movies – all marble and gold fixtures and staff in crisp uniforms who looked like they'd never had a bad day in their lives. She felt like an imposter in her ill-fitting black pants and white button-down, the uniform they'd issued her for her position in the restaurant.
It was her third week on the job, and she was still learning the rhythm of it, the way the lunch rush hit like a wave, the particular preferences of the regular guests, how to smile and be pleasant even when her feet ached and she'd been up until two AM finishing an essay.
She was nineteen, a freshman at the University of Southern Maine, and she was so fucking tired.
But the job paid better than the campus cafeteria, and she needed every dollar. The room she rented was cheap because it was barely habitable, a converted attic space with a hot plate and a bathroom she shared with three other people. It was hers, though. After three years of couch-surfing and spare rooms and never quite feeling like she had a place to land, having her own space, no matter how shitty, felt like victory.
She was refilling water glasses during the lunch service when she first saw Paige Bueckers.
The owner didn't come to the Portland location often – she had hotels in five cities, and rumor was she spent most of her time in Boston – but when she did, everyone snapped to attention. Azzi noticed the shift in energy before she saw the woman herself: backs straightening, voices dropping to professional murmurs, the manager practically vibrating with nervous energy.
Then Paige walked into the restaurant, and Azzi understood.
She was tall, blonde, dressed in a charcoal suit that probably cost more than Azzi's entire wardrobe. But it wasn't the clothes or even the obvious wealth, it was the way she moved, the way she commanded space without seeming to try. She was talking to the manager, nodding at something he said, and then her gaze swept the room.
And landed directly on Azzi.
The eye contact lasted maybe three seconds. Paige's expression didn't change. Professional, polite, already moving on to the next thing. But Azzi felt it like a physical touch, a spark of electricity that made her breath catch.
She looked away quickly, focusing on the water pitcher in her hands, telling herself she was being ridiculous. Rich people looked at service workers all the time. It didn't mean anything.
Except Paige kept coming back.
Every week, sometimes twice a week, she'd appear at the hotel. She'd have meetings in the restaurant, or she'd sit at the bar with her laptop, or she'd just walk through, observing. And every time, without fail, her eyes would find Azzi.
At first, Azzi thought she was imagining it. Then she thought maybe she'd done something wrong, that Paige was scrutinizing her work. But the looks didn't feel critical. They felt... interested. Assessing. Like Paige was trying to figure something out.
It made Azzi nervous and hyperaware and, if she was honest with herself, a little thrilled.
The first time Paige spoke to her directly was a Tuesday in October. Azzi was clearing a table when she felt that familiar prickle of awareness. She looked up, and Paige was there, closer than she'd ever been, close enough that Azzi could see the exact shade of her eyes – pale blue, almost gray in the restaurant lighting.
"You're new," Paige said. Not a question.
"Um. Yes, ma'am. I started last month." Azzi's voice came out steadier than she felt.
"How are you finding it? The work?"
It was a normal question, the kind a boss might ask any employee. But the way Paige was looking at her, focused, intent, like Azzi's answer actually mattered, made it feel like something else entirely.
"It's good," Azzi said carefully. "Everyone's been really helpful."
"And school? You're a student, right?"
How did she know that? Had she asked about Azzi? The thought made her pulse quicken.
"Yes, ma'am. At Southern Maine. Freshman."
"What are you studying?"
"Biology. Pre-med, hopefully."
Something flickered in Paige's expression – approval, maybe, or respect. "That's ambitious. Good for you." She paused, and Azzi had the distinct sense she wanted to say something else. Instead, she just nodded. "Well. Keep up the good work."
She walked away, and Azzi stood there with a tub of dirty dishes, heart pounding, wondering what the hell had just happened.
After that, the interactions became more frequent. Paige would ask how her classes were going. She'd remember details Azzi had mentioned: an upcoming exam, a difficult professor. Once, when Azzi mentioned she was struggling with organic chemistry, a tutoring service mysteriously reached out offering free sessions to Bueckers Hotel employees.
Azzi wasn't stupid. She knew what this was, or what it could be. She'd heard the whispers from other staff. Paige Bueckers was gay, she was single, she had a reputation for being generous with people she took an interest in. The implications were clear.
And Azzi didn't know what to do with that.
She'd known she was gay since she was fourteen, had known with absolute certainty when she'd kissed Sarah Mitchell behind the gym and felt like her whole body had caught fire. Her parents had found out two years later. They’d found the texts, the photos, the evidence of who she really was. And they'd given her a choice: conversion therapy or get out.
She'd gotten out.
The years since had been hard in ways she didn't like to think about. She'd finished high school through sheer stubbornness, had worked her ass off for scholarships, had learned to rely on no one but herself. She didn't have room in her life for complications, for rich women with intense eyes who made her feel things she'd carefully locked away.
So when Paige asked her to dinner, casually, after a shift in early November, phrased as "I'd like to get to know you better outside of work," Azzi said no.
Paige had looked surprised. Probably not many people turned her down.
"Okay," she'd said slowly. "Can I ask why?"
Azzi had been honest. "Because you're my boss, and you're complicated. And I can't afford complications."
"I'm not trying to complicate your life, Azzi."
The way Paige said her name, like she'd been thinking it, practicing it, made Azzi's resolve waver.
"I just want to take you to dinner. No expectations, no pressure. Just dinner."
"I don't think that's a good idea."
Paige had nodded, accepting it with more grace than Azzi expected. "All right. But if you change your mind, the offer stands."
Azzi thought that would be the end of it.
It wasn't.
Paige didn't push, didn't make things awkward. But she also didn't stop showing interest. She'd leave books on the staff break room table – biology textbooks, study guides, always with a sticky note that said "Thought this might help." She'd make sure Azzi got the better shifts, the ones that didn't conflict with her class schedule. Once, when Azzi came to work with a cold she couldn't afford to stay home for, she found a care package in her locker: medicine, tea, soup, a note that said, "Take care of yourself."
It was the small things that got to her. The way Paige remembered she took her coffee with two sugars and cream. How she'd casually mention job openings at the hotel that paid better and had more flexible hours. The time Azzi's ancient laptop finally died and a brand new one appeared at the front desk with her name on it. "An early Christmas bonus for exceptional employees," the note had said, but Azzi knew the hotel didn't give out thousand-dollar MacBooks as bonuses.
She'd tried to return it. Paige had refused.
"Consider it an investment in your education," she'd said. "You're going to do great things, Azzi. I can tell."
No one had ever said that to her before. No one had ever looked at her and seen potential instead of a burden, a disappointment, a sin that needed to be corrected.
The gifts kept coming, always practical, always something Azzi actually needed. A winter coat when hers wore through. Textbooks for the spring semester. A gift card to the grocery store tucked into her last paycheck with a note that said, "Eat something other than ramen."
It should have felt transactional. It should have made her uncomfortable.
Instead, it made her feel cared for in a way she'd never experienced.
By the time finals rolled around and Azzi turned in her resignation, she'd found a better-paying position at a coffee shop near campus, she stopped pretending she wasn't interested. Stopped pretending that Paige's attention didn't make her heart race and her skin flush.
Paige had found her on her last shift, after the dinner rush had cleared.
"I heard you're leaving," she said without preamble.
Azzi's hand tightened on the envelope containing her final paycheck. "How did you know?"
"I make it my business to know." Paige stepped closer, and Azzi could smell her cologne – something expensive and subtle that made her want to lean in. "Can I take you to dinner now? No boss-employee complications anymore."
Azzi couldn’t hide her smile as said yes.
That first dinner had turned into a second, then a third. Paige was different outside of work. She was still confident, still commanding, but softer somehow. She asked questions and actually listened to the answers. She made Azzi laugh. She made her feel like she mattered.
The arrangement had evolved naturally. Paige had money, more money than Azzi could comprehend, and she wanted to use it to make Azzi's life easier. A nicer apartment, closer to campus. Help with tuition. A reliable car so Azzi didn't have to take three buses to get to class.
"Let me do this," Paige had said when Azzi protested. "You're working so hard. Let me make it easier. Please. Let me take care of you."
And Azzi, who'd been fighting alone for so long, had finally let herself accept help.
The physical relationship had developed naturally from there. One night, after dinner at Paige's penthouse, they'd been sitting close on the couch, and Azzi had just leaned in. The kiss had been electric, inevitable, like something that had been building since that first moment in the restaurant.
Paige had pulled back, breathing hard. "Are you sure?"
Azzi had never been more sure of anything.
That first night had been a revelation – Paige's hands on her skin, the way she'd taken her time, learning every inch of Azzi's body like it was something precious. The way she'd made Azzi feel safe enough to let go, to be vulnerable, to take what she needed.
In the months since, their arrangement had deepened into something neither of them had quite expected. It was supposed to be simple; financial support in exchange for companionship, affection, sex. But somewhere along the way, it had become real. Paige genuinely cared about Azzi's happiness, her success, her dreams. And Azzi had found herself falling for this complicated, generous, intense woman who'd somehow become her safe haven.
🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️
Present
"Earth to Azzi."
Azzi blinked, realizing she'd been staring into the fire, lost in memory. Paige was watching her from the kitchen area, amusement and concern mixing in her expression.
"How far I've come. How different things are now."
Paige's expression softened. She crossed to the couch, settling beside Azzi and pulling her close. "You did that yourself, baby. I just helped smooth the path a little."
"You did more than that." Azzi turned to look at her. "You gave me space to breathe. To focus on school without constantly worrying about rent or food or whether I'd have to drop out. You gave me stability. That's not nothing, Paige."
"You're not nothing." Paige's thumb traced Azzi's cheekbone. "You're everything."
The words hung between them, weighted with meaning neither of them was quite ready to fully examine. This thing between them had started as an arrangement, but it had become something else – something deeper, more complicated, more real.
Azzi kissed her, slow and thorough, trying to convey everything she couldn't quite say. When they broke apart, both breathing harder, Paige's eyes had darkened.
"So," Azzi said, deliberately lightening the mood, "I have a surprise for you."
"Oh?" Paige's eyebrow arched. "What kind of surprise?"
"The kind you'll have to wait for." Azzi stood, grabbing her overnight bag. "Give me twenty minutes. Pour us some wine, get comfortable, and don't come looking for me."
"Azzi–"
"Patience," Azzi called over her shoulder, heading toward the bedroom she could see down the hall. "Good things come to those who wait."
She could feel Paige's eyes on her as she walked away, could practically feel the anticipation building.
In the bedroom, another stunning space with a massive bed and more of those floor-to-ceiling windows, Azzi set down her bag and took a breath. Outside, snow continued to fall, blanketing the world in white. Inside, a fire crackled and the woman she was falling for waited.
Two years ago, she'd been alone and struggling and convinced she'd never let anyone close enough to hurt her again.
Now, she was here. Safe. Wanted. Maybe even loved, though neither of them had said the word yet.
Azzi unzipped her bag and pulled out the lingerie, a smile playing at her lips.
Tonight was going to be perfect.
She smoothed her hands over the red velvet box on the bed. Inside was the lingerie set she'd ordered specifically for tonight. A surprise for Paige. A thank you for everything. A promise of more.
Her hands trembled slightly as she lifted the lid.
The lingerie was even more beautiful than it had looked online. Red lace and satin, trimmed with soft white fur that felt like clouds against her fingertips. She pulled out each piece carefully. The bra with its plunging neckline and delicate lace overlay. The matching panties that were more suggestion than coverage. The garter belt with its silver clasps. The sheer stockings that would hug her thighs. There was a short cape too, red velvet lined with white fur, and a Santa hat with a white pom-pom that bounced when she touched it.
Azzi stripped out of her clothes, her skin prickling with anticipation. She could hear the faint crackle of the fire from the living room, could picture Paige out there waiting, probably scrolling through her phone or pouring them both wine.
She started with the panties, sliding the red lace up her legs. They sat low on her hips, the white fur trim soft against her skin. The bra came next, and she had to adjust it twice to get it right – the cups pushed her breasts up and together, creating cleavage she didn't usually have. The lace was sheer enough that she could see the dark shadow of her nipples through the fabric.
The garter belt clipped around her waist, and she attached the stockings one at a time, smoothing them up her legs and fastening the clasps. The stockings had a seam up the back that she had to straighten, turning to check in the full-length mirror.
God, she looked – she looked like sex. Like a fantasy. Like something Paige would want to unwrap slowly, savoring every moment.
The cape fastened around her shoulders with a small clasp, falling just to the curve of her ass. She positioned the Santa hat on her head, letting her dark curls spill out from underneath.
One last look in the mirror. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright. The red of the lingerie made her skin look golden, and the white fur trim drew attention to all the right places: the swell of her breasts, the curve of her hips, the length of her legs in those stockings.
She took a deep breath, steadying herself.
Then she opened the bedroom door and walked out.
Paige was on the couch, just as Azzi had pictured, two glasses of wine on the coffee table in front of her. She was looking at her phone, but she glanced up when she heard the door.
And froze.
The phone slipped from her hand, landing on the couch cushion beside her. Her jaw literally dropped, lips parting on a sharp inhale. Her eyes went wide, then dark, pupils dilating as they traveled slowly down Azzi's body and back up again.
"Holy fuck," Paige breathed.
Azzi felt a surge of confidence at that reaction, at the way Paige was looking at her like she wanted to devour her. She walked forward slowly, deliberately, letting her hips sway with each step. The cape fluttered behind her, and she saw Paige's gaze drop to her legs, to the stockings and the way they made her legs look impossibly long.
"Merry Christmas, Daddy," Azzi said, her voice low and sultry.
Paige made a sound that was almost a growl. "Jesus Christ, baby. You look – fuck, you look incredible."
Azzi stopped in front of her, close enough that Paige could reach out and touch if she wanted. "You like it?"
"Like it?" Paige's hands flexed on her thighs, like she was physically restraining herself. "Azzi, you're the hottest fucking thing I've ever seen. Come here."
But Azzi shook her head, smiling. "Not yet. I have something planned."
She reached for her phone on the side table, pulling up the playlist she'd made earlier. “Rocket” by Beyoncé filled the room.
Paige's eyes darkened further. "Are you about to do what I think you're about to do?"
"Depends." Azzi stepped between Paige's spread thighs, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off her body. "What do you think I'm about to do?"
"Drive me out of my fucking mind."
Azzi laughed, low and throaty. Then she turned around, giving Paige a perfect view of her ass in those barely-there panties, and began to move.
She'd never given a lap dance before, but she'd watched enough videos to get the idea. It was all about the tease, the slow build, the promise of what was coming. She rolled her hips to the music, letting the cape slide off one shoulder, then the other. She could feel Paige's gaze on her like a physical touch, burning into her skin.
Slowly, she lowered herself, bending at the waist so Paige got an eyeful of her ass, the red lace stretched tight across her curves. She heard Paige's sharp intake of breath, felt the air shift as Paige leaned forward.
Azzi straightened and turned, then lowered herself onto Paige's lap, straddling her thighs. This close, she could see the way Paige's chest was rising and falling rapidly, could see the flush spreading across her cheeks and down her neck.
"Touch me, Daddy," Azzi whispered, rolling her hips in a slow grind.
Paige's hands came up immediately, gripping Azzi's hips hard enough to bruise. "Fuck yeah."
Azzi moved against her, finding a rhythm with the music. She could feel the heat between her own legs, the way her body was responding to the friction, to the way Paige was looking at her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered.
She rolled her hips again, harder this time, and Paige's grip tightened. One hand slid around to palm Azzi's ass, squeezing roughly.
"That's it," Paige said, her voice rough. "Grind on me, baby. Show Daddy how much you want it."
Azzi whimpered, the sound escaping before she could stop it. She was already so turned on, already so wet, and they'd barely started. She could feel it, the dampness soaking through the lace of her panties.
She leaned forward, pressing her breasts against Paige's chest, and whispered in her ear, "I want it so bad, Daddy. Want you so bad."
Paige's other hand came up to tangle in Azzi's hair, tugging her head back so she could look into her eyes. "Yeah? Tell me what you want."
"Want you to touch me." Azzi was grinding harder now, chasing the friction. "Want you to fuck me. Want you to make me come so hard I can't remember my own name."
"Greedy girl." But Paige was smiling, that predatory smile that made Azzi's stomach flip. "You're gonna get everything you want, baby. I promise."
Azzi kept moving, kept grinding, her hands sliding up Paige's arms to her shoulders. The music pulsed around them, and she lost herself in it, in the feeling of Paige's hands on her body, in the heat building between them.
She could feel Paige getting worked up too, could feel the tension in her muscles, the way her breathing had gone ragged. When Azzi rolled her hips just right, Paige's head fell back against the couch with a groan.
"Fuck, Azzi. You're so fucking sexy."
Azzi leaned down and kissed her, hard and deep, swallowing Paige's moan. Their tongues tangled together, and Azzi could taste the wine Paige had been drinking. She bit down on Paige's bottom lip, tugging gently, and Paige's hips bucked up involuntarily.
"Need you," Azzi breathed against her mouth. "Need to taste you, Daddy."
Paige's eyes flashed. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." Azzi slid off her lap, sinking to her knees between Paige's spread thighs. She looked up through her lashes, saw the way Paige was staring down at her with pure hunger. "Let me make you feel good."
"Fuck." Paige's hand came down to cup Azzi's cheek, thumb brushing over her bottom lip. "You look so pretty on your knees for me, baby."
Azzi turned her head and kissed Paige's palm, then reached for the button of her jeans. She undid it slowly, maintaining eye contact, then pulled down the zipper. Paige lifted her hips so Azzi could tug the jeans down her legs, and Azzi took her time, letting her hands trail over Paige's thighs, feeling the muscle there.
The jeans hit the floor, and Azzi turned her attention to Paige's underwear. Simple black boxer briefs that were already damp. She could see the wet spot, could smell Paige's arousal, and it made her mouth water.
"These too?" she asked, hooking her fingers in the waistband.
"Everything," Paige said. "Want to feel that pretty mouth on me."
Azzi pulled the boxer briefs down, and Paige kicked them off. Then she was bare from the waist down, spread out on the couch, and Azzi had never seen anything more beautiful.
She leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the inside of Paige's knee, then higher, trailing her lips up the inside of her thigh. Paige's legs fell open wider, giving her more room, and Azzi could see how wet she was, could see her clit already swollen and ready.
"Don't tease," Paige said, her voice strained. "Need your mouth on me now."
Azzi smiled against her skin. "Yes, Daddy."
She closed the distance and licked a long, slow stripe up Paige's center, tasting her for the first time tonight. Paige's hips jerked, and her hand came down to tangle in Azzi's hair, the Santa hat falling off and landing somewhere on the floor.
"Fuck, yes," Paige groaned. "Just like that, baby."
Azzi did it again, then focused on Paige's clit, circling it with her tongue before softly sucking it into her mouth. Paige's grip on her hair tightened, almost painful, and Azzi moaned against her.
She loved this. She loved the taste of Paige on her tongue, loved the sounds she was making, loved the way Paige's thighs were trembling on either side of her head. She worked her tongue faster, alternating between broad strokes and focused attention on Paige's clit.
"That's it," Paige panted. "Fuck, your mouth feels so good. Such a good girl for Daddy."
The praise sent a jolt of pleasure straight through Azzi. She doubled her efforts, sucking harder, using her tongue to trace patterns that made Paige's hips buck.
"Who do you belong to?" Paige asked, her voice rough and commanding even as she was falling apart.
Azzi pulled back just enough to answer. "You, Daddy. I belong to you."
"That's right." Paige's hand guided her back down. "Mine. All fucking mine."
Azzi went back to work with renewed enthusiasm, sliding her tongue lower to dip inside Paige before returning to her clit. She could feel Paige getting closer, could feel the way her muscles were tensing, the way her breathing had gone shallow and rapid.
"Gonna come," Paige warned. "Fuck, baby, gonna come in that pretty mouth."
Azzi moaned her encouragement, sucking Paige's clit hard and flicking her tongue rapidly. Paige's thighs clamped around her head, and then she was coming with a shout, her whole body going rigid as pleasure crashed through her.
Azzi worked her through it, gentling her movements as Paige came down, pressing soft kisses to her sensitive flesh until Paige tugged her hair, pulling her away.
"Come here," Paige said, her voice wrecked.
Azzi climbed back up, and Paige pulled her into a deep kiss, tasting herself on Azzi's lips. When they finally broke apart, both breathing hard, Azzi rested her forehead against Paige's.
"Thank you, Daddy," she whispered.
Paige's eyes darkened again, and Azzi could see the hunger returning already. "Oh, baby. We're just getting started."
She guided Azzi off her lap, making her kneel on the floor again. "Stay right there. Don't move."
Azzi watched as Paige stood and walked toward the bedroom, her movements purposeful. She was gone for maybe two minutes, but it felt like an eternity. Azzi's knees were starting to ache against the hardwood floor, and she could feel how wet she was, how much she needed Paige to touch her.
When Paige came back, Azzi's breath caught.
She was wearing a harness, black leather straps that wrapped around her hips and thighs. And attached to it was a dildo, thick and long, bigger than anything Azzi had taken before. It was realistic, flesh-colored with prominent veins, and it jutted out from Paige's body obscenely.
Paige walked back to the couch and sat down, spreading her legs. The dildo stood at attention between her thighs, and she wrapped one hand around it, stroking slowly.
"Come here, baby," she said. "Crawl to Daddy."
Azzi's whole body flushed with heat. She crawled forward on her hands and knees, the stockings sliding against the floor, until she was kneeling between Paige's legs again.
"You’re gonna suck Daddy’s dick like a good girl." Paige said roughly, still stroking the dildo.
Azzi whimpered, her eyes fixed on the toy. "Yes, Daddy."
"Open your mouth."
Azzi obeyed, parting her lips, and Paige guided the head of the dildo to her mouth. It was cool against her tongue, the silicone smooth and firm.
"That's it," Paige said as Azzi took it deeper. "Take Daddy's dick in that pretty mouth. Show me how much you want it."
Azzi hollowed her cheeks and sucked, taking more of the length. It was big, almost too big, and she had to relax her jaw to accommodate it. She could feel it hitting the back of her throat, making her gag slightly, but she didn't pull away.
"Fuck, look at you," Paige groaned, her hand coming down to tangle in Azzi's hair again. "Look so fucking good with your mouth full of my dick."
Azzi moaned around the toy, the vibration making Paige's hips jerk forward. She pulled back to catch her breath, then took it again, deeper this time. Saliva was dripping down her chin, making a mess, but she didn't care.
"That's my girl," Paige praised. "Taking it so well. Think you can take more?"
Azzi nodded as much as she could with her mouth full, and Paige's grip on her hair tightened. She pushed Azzi's head down, forcing her to take more of the length, until Azzi was gagging and tears were pricking at the corners of her eyes.
"Breathe through your nose," Paige instructed, holding her there. "Relax your throat."
Azzi tried, fighting against the urge to pull away, and after a moment she managed it. Paige held her there for a few more seconds, then let her pull back.
"Good fucking girl," Paige said, and the praise made Azzi's core clench. "You love sucking Daddy's dick, don't you?"
"Yes, Daddy," Azzi gasped, then took it back in her mouth, eager to please.
She bobbed her head, finding a rhythm, using her hand to stroke what she couldn't fit in her mouth. Paige was groaning above her, her hips rocking slightly, and Azzi could see the flush spreading across her chest, could see how turned on she was getting from this.
"Fuck, baby. You look so pretty like this. So fucking pretty with my dick in your mouth."
Azzi whimpered, the sound muffled, and sucked harder. She wanted to be good for Paige, wanted to make her proud, wanted to hear more of that praise.
"That's enough," Paige said finally, tugging Azzi's hair to pull her off. "As much as I love watching you suck my dick, I need to taste that pretty pussy."
Azzi's whole body trembled as Paige guided her back onto the couch, positioning her so she was lying back against the cushions. The firelight cast dancing shadows across Paige's face as she knelt between Azzi's spread legs, her hands running up the inside of Azzi's thighs, over the silk stockings.
"Look at you," Paige murmured, her fingers tracing the edge of the lace panties. "So fucking beautiful in this lingerie. Did you wear this just for Daddy?"
"Yes," Azzi breathed, her hips lifting slightly, seeking more contact.
Paige hooked her fingers into the waistband of the panties and slowly dragged them down Azzi's legs, taking her time, making Azzi wait. When she finally pulled them off completely, she held them up, examining the soaked fabric.
"Fuck, baby. You're dripping." Paige's voice was thick with desire. "All this just from sucking my dick?"
Azzi whimpered, her face flushing. "Please, Daddy."
"Please what?" Paige teased, running her fingers up Azzi's inner thighs again, deliberately avoiding where Azzi needed her most.
"Please touch me. Please, I need–"
"I know what you need," Paige said, finally letting her fingers trail through Azzi's wetness. "Jesus Christ, you're soaked. This pretty pussy is so wet for me."
Azzi's hips bucked at the contact, and Paige used her other hand to hold her down. "Stay still. Let Daddy take care of you."
She leaned in, her breath hot against Azzi's core, and Azzi's hands fisted in the couch cushions. When Paige's tongue finally made contact, Azzi cried out, her back arching off the couch.
"Fuck, Daddy!"
Paige hummed against her, the vibration sending shockwaves through Azzi's body. She started slow, broad strokes of her tongue, licking through Azzi's folds, tasting her. Then she focused on Azzi's clit, circling it with the tip of her tongue before sucking it into her mouth.
"Oh god, oh god," Azzi chanted, one hand coming down to tangle in Paige's hair. "Daddy, please."
Paige pulled back just enough to speak. "You taste so fucking good, baby. Could eat this pussy all night."
Then she dove back in, her tongue working Azzi's clit with focused intensity. She alternated between sucking and licking, finding the rhythm that made Azzi's thighs tremble. When she slid one finger inside, Azzi's whole body tensed.
"So tight," Paige murmured against her. "Even just one finger and you're squeezing me so hard."
She added a second finger, curling them to hit that spot inside that made Azzi see stars. Her tongue never stopped working Azzi's clit, and the dual sensation was overwhelming.
"Daddy, I'm – I'm gonna–"
"Not yet," Paige commanded, slowing her movements. "Not until I say so."
Azzi whimpered, her body trembling with the effort of holding back. Paige's fingers continued their steady rhythm, and her tongue traced patterns on Azzi's clit that had her gasping.
"Do you love me?" Paige asked suddenly, her voice soft but intense.
"Yes," Azzi gasped immediately. "Yes, Daddy, I love you."
"Say it again."
"I love you," Azzi said, her voice breaking. "I love you so much."
Paige's fingers moved faster, her tongue pressing harder against Azzi's clit. "How much?"
"So much," Azzi sobbed, tears pricking at her eyes from the intensity of it all, the physical pleasure, the emotional weight of the words. "I love you so much, Daddy. Please, I need–"
"Come for me," Paige commanded, and Azzi shattered.
The orgasm ripped through her like lightning, her whole body convulsing as waves of pleasure crashed over her. She cried out Paige's name – Daddy – over and over, her thighs clamping around Paige's head as she rode out the intensity.
When she finally came down, gasping and trembling, Paige pressed gentle kisses to her inner thighs, her fingers still inside, moving slowly.
"Thank you, Daddy," Azzi breathed, remembering the rule even through the haze.
"Such a good girl," Paige praised, slowly withdrawing her fingers. She brought them to her mouth, sucking them clean while maintaining eye contact with Azzi. "Fucking delicious."
Azzi's chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath, her body still tingling with aftershocks. But Paige wasn't done with her. Not even close.
"On your hands and knees," Paige ordered, her voice taking on that commanding edge that made Azzi's pussy clench. "Face the back of the couch."
Azzi's limbs felt like jelly, but she obeyed, turning over and positioning herself as instructed. The leather of the couch was cool against her palms and knees, and she could feel the remnants of her lingerie – the garter belt still around her waist, the stockings still clinging to her thighs.
She heard Paige move behind her, felt strong hands grip her hips, and then the blunt head of the strap pressed against her entrance.
"You ready for Daddy's dick, baby?"
"Yes, Daddy," Azzi breathed, pushing back slightly. "Please."
Paige entered her in one smooth thrust, and Azzi's arms nearly gave out. The angle was different like this, deeper, more intense. She felt so full, stretched around the thick silicone.
"Fuck," Paige groaned, her fingers digging into Azzi's hips. "Look at you taking all of me. Such a good fucking girl."
She started moving, slow at first, letting Azzi adjust to the depth. Each thrust pushed Azzi forward slightly, and she had to brace herself against the couch to keep from collapsing. The base of the strap rubbed against Paige's clit with every movement, and Azzi could hear her breathing getting heavier.
"Daddy," Azzi moaned, her head dropping forward. "Oh God, Daddy."
"That's right," Paige said, picking up the pace. "Let me hear you. Tell me how good it feels."
"So good," Azzi gasped as Paige's hips snapped forward harder. "Feels so fucking good, Daddy."
Paige's hand came down on Azzi's ass with a sharp crack, and Azzi cried out, the sting mixing with pleasure. "Who fucks you this good?"
"You do, Daddy!" Azzi's voice was high and desperate. "Only you!"
"Fucking right." Paige gripped Azzi's ass with both hands, spreading her open so she could watch the strap disappear inside her with each thrust. "Look at this pretty pussy taking my dick. So fucking perfect."
The pace increased, Paige fucking into her with steady, powerful strokes that had Azzi seeing stars. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the cabin, mixed with their moans and Azzi's increasingly desperate cries.
"Do you love how Daddy's dick feels?" Paige asked, her voice rough with exertion and arousal.
"Yes, Daddy!" Azzi sobbed. "I love it so much!"
"Tell me you're mine."
"I'm yours," Azzi gasped, her arms shaking with the effort of holding herself up. "All yours, Daddy. Only yours."
Paige leaned forward, her chest pressing against Azzi's back, changing the angle so the strap hit that perfect spot inside with every thrust. One hand came around to find Azzi's clit, rubbing tight circles that had Azzi's whole body tensing.
"Daddy, I'm – oh fuck, I'm gonna– "
"Come on my dick," Paige commanded, her hips pistoning faster. "Come for Daddy, baby."
The orgasm built differently this time – deeper, more intense, pressure building low in Azzi's belly. When it hit, it was unlike anything she'd ever felt before. Her whole body seized up, and then she was gushing, liquid spraying from her as she came harder than she ever had in her life.
"Holy fuck," Paige breathed, not stopping her movements, fucking Azzi through it as she squirted all over the strap, all over Paige's thighs, dripping onto the leather couch.
Azzi couldn't form words, could only make broken, desperate sounds as the orgasm seemed to go on forever. When it finally subsided, she collapsed forward, her whole body shaking.
"I – I'm sorry," Azzi gasped, mortification flooding through her as she realized what had happened. "I didn't mean to – I've never– "
"Don't you dare apologize," Paige said fiercely, gently pulling out and turning Azzi over so she could see her face. "That was the hottest fucking thing I've ever seen. Do you understand me? You're so fucking perfect."
Azzi's eyes were glassy with tears – from pleasure, from embarrassment, from the overwhelming intensity of it all. "Thank you, Daddy," she whispered.
Paige kissed her deeply, thoroughly, pouring everything she felt into it. When she pulled back, her eyes were dark with desire. "We're not done yet, baby. I need to feel you come like that again."
Azzi's eyes widened. "I don't think I can–"
"You can," Paige assured her, helping her sit up. "And you will. But first, I have an idea."
She stood, her eyes scanning the cabin, and then she smiled – that dangerous smile that always meant Azzi was in for it. She walked over to where Christmas lights were strung along the mantle, unplugging one of the strands.
"What are you–" Azzi started, but then understanding dawned as Paige returned with the lights, the cord long and flexible in her hands.
"Trust me," Paige said, and Azzi did. She always did. "Lie down," she instructed, gesturing to the plush rug in front of the fireplace. "On your back."
Azzi's legs were still shaky, but she managed to move to the rug, the fire casting a warm glow over her skin. She lay back, watching as Paige knelt beside her, the strap still glistening with Azzi's release.
"Legs up," Paige said, and Azzi lifted them. She carefully wrapped the lights around Azzi's thighs, securing her legs to her shoulders, then wrapping around them her back to keep everything flat. The lights weren't tight or hot enough to hurt, but they were firm enough that Azzi couldn't straighten her legs. She was completely open, completely exposed, completely at Paige's mercy.
"Fuck," Azzi breathed, testing the restraints and finding she could barely move. "Daddy."
"You look so fucking beautiful like this," Paige said, running her hands over Azzi's thighs, her ass, her pussy. "All tied up for me. Can't go anywhere. Can't do anything but take what I give you."
She positioned herself between Azzi's legs, the head of the strap pressing against Azzi's entrance again. From this angle, Azzi could see everything – could see Paige's face, could see the strap about to enter her, could see her own body bound and waiting.
"Ready, baby?"
"Yes, Daddy," Azzi whispered.
Paige pushed in slowly, and the angle was so deep that Azzi gasped, her back arching off the rug. The restraints meant she couldn't adjust, couldn't move away from the intensity. She could only take it.
"Oh my god," Azzi moaned as Paige bottomed out inside her. "So deep, Daddy. You're so deep."
"I know," Paige said, her voice rough. She pulled back and thrust in again, watching Azzi's face contort with pleasure. "This is how I want you. Completely at my mercy. Unable to do anything but feel me fucking you."
She set a steady rhythm, each thrust pushing deep, hitting spots inside Azzi that made her see stars. The firelight danced across their skin, and Azzi could feel the heat of it mixing with the heat building inside her.
"You're taking me so well," Paige praised, her hands gripping Azzi's thighs for leverage. "Look at you, all tied up and helpless, taking Daddy's dick like you were made for it."
"I was," Azzi gasped. "Made for you, Daddy. Only you."
Paige leaned forward, changing the angle slightly, and Azzi cried out. "That's right. This pussy is mine. This body is mine. You're mine."
"Yours," Azzi agreed, tears streaming down her temples. "All yours."
The pace increased, Paige fucking into her with powerful, deliberate strokes. Azzi's hands scrabbled at the rug, trying to find purchase, trying to ground herself against the overwhelming sensation. But there was nowhere to go, nothing to do but feel.
"Look at me," Paige commanded, and Azzi's eyes snapped to hers. "I want to see your face when you come. Want to see what I do to you."
"Daddy," Azzi whimpered, feeling the pressure building again. "I'm close."
"I know, baby. I can feel you squeezing me." Paige's thumb found Azzi's clit, rubbing in time with her thrusts. "You're going to come so hard for me. Going to soak my dick again."
"Yes," Azzi sobbed. "Yes, Daddy, please."
"Tell me you love me," Paige demanded, her movements becoming more urgent. "Tell me you love me while I fuck you."
"I love you," Azzi cried out, her whole body tensing. "I love you, Daddy. I love you so much. I love–"
The orgasm crashed over her like a tidal wave, and she was screaming, her body convulsing as much as the restraints would allow. It was intense, overwhelming, her pussy clenching rhythmically around the strap as pleasure consumed her.
"That's my girl," Paige groaned, fucking her through it. "So fucking beautiful when you come for me."
When Azzi finally came down, gasping and trembling, Paige slowed her movements but didn't stop, keeping her right on that edge.
"Thank you, Daddy," Azzi managed, her voice hoarse.
Paige smiled down at her, possessive and tender all at once. "We're not done yet, baby. I told you, I need to feel you squirt for me again."
Azzi's eyes widened at the sight of Paige kneeling in front of her ruined pussy. Her body already was oversensitive, but the look in Paige's eyes told her there was no negotiating this. And deep down, she didn't want to.
She was Paige's. Completely. And she'd give her everything.
"So tight," Paige murmured against her. "Even just one finger and you're squeezing me so hard."
She added a second finger, curling them to hit that spot inside that made Azzi see stars. Her tongue never stopped working Azzi's clit, and the dual sensation was overwhelming.
"Daddy, I'm – I'm gonna–"
"Not yet," Paige commanded, slowing her movements. "Not until I say so."
Azzi whimpered, her body trembling with the effort of holding back. Paige's fingers continued their steady rhythm, and her tongue traced patterns on Azzi's clit that had her gasping.
"Do you love me?" Paige asked suddenly, her voice soft but intense.
"Yes," Azzi gasped immediately. "Yes, Daddy, I love you."
"Say it again."
"I love you," Azzi said, her voice breaking. "I love you so much."
Paige's fingers moved faster, her tongue pressing harder against Azzi's clit. "How much?"
"So much! I love you so much, Daddy! Please,” she begged.
"I know what you need." Paige's voice was rough. "Come for me, baby. Come on Daddy's tongue."
She sucked Azzi's clit hard, her fingers hitting that perfect spot inside, and Azzi shattered. Her orgasm crashed over her in waves, her whole body convulsing as she cried out. Paige worked her through it, her tongue gentling but not stopping, drawing out every last tremor.
When Azzi finally came down, she was shaking, tears streaming down her face. "Thank you, Daddy," she whispered, her voice hoarse.
Paige kissed her way up Azzi's body, wiping the tears from her cheeks. "So good for me," she murmured. "Such a good girl."
Azzi was still catching her breath when Paige's hands started moving again, repositioning her. "On your hands and knees, baby. Want to see that pretty ass."
Azzi's limbs felt like jelly, but she obeyed, turning over and getting into position on the couch. The garter belt and stockings were still on, and she could feel Paige's gaze on her, hot and possessive.
"Fuck," Paige breathed, her hands running over Azzi's ass, squeezing. "You look so fucking good like this."
She spread Azzi's legs wider, and Azzi felt exposed, vulnerable, and so incredibly turned on. When Paige's fingers slid through her wetness again, she moaned.
"Still so wet," Paige said, sliding two fingers inside easily. "Think you can take more?"
"Yes, Daddy," Azzi gasped, pushing back against Paige's hand.
Paige added a third finger, and the stretch made Azzi cry out. It was almost too much, but in the best way. Paige's fingers filled her completely, and when she started moving them, Azzi's arms nearly gave out.
"That's it," Paige encouraged, her other hand coming around to find Azzi's clit. "Take Daddy's fingers. You're doing so good, baby."
The dual stimulation had Azzi's head spinning. Paige's fingers were hitting that perfect spot inside her with every thrust, and the pressure on her clit was building another orgasm embarrassingly fast.
"Daddy," Azzi whimpered. "Feels so good."
"Yeah? You like when Daddy fucks you with her fingers?"
"Yes, yes, I love it."
Then Paige's fingers slowed, and Azzi felt her shift position. She was about to protest when she felt Paige's tongue, not on her pussy, but lower. On her ass.
"Oh fuck," Azzi gasped, her whole body tensing. "Daddy!"
"Relax," Paige murmured, her breath hot against Azzi's skin. "Let Daddy make you feel good."
Her tongue circled Azzi's hole, teasing, and Azzi's mind went blank. She'd never felt anything like this before. Paige's fingers were still inside her, still rubbing her clit, and now her tongue was doing things that made Azzi's toes curl.
"Holy shit," Azzi moaned, her face pressed into the couch cushions. "Daddy, oh my god."
Paige's tongue pressed harder, the tip breaching slightly, and Azzi nearly came right then. The sensation was overwhelming – Paige's fingers pumping into her pussy, her thumb working her clit, and her tongue doing absolutely sinful things to her ass.
"You taste so fucking good everywhere," Paige said, pulling back just long enough to speak before diving back in.
Her tongue was relentless, licking and sucking and pressing, while her fingers maintained their steady rhythm. Azzi was making sounds she'd never made before, completely lost in the pleasure.
"Daddy, I'm gonna – please, can I–"
"Come for me," Paige commanded, her voice muffled. "Come all over Daddy's fingers."
Her tongue pressed hard against Azzi's hole at the same moment her fingers hit that perfect spot, and Azzi came with a scream. Her whole body shook, her pussy clenching around Paige's fingers, and the orgasm seemed to go on forever.
"Thank you, Daddy," Azzi sobbed when she could finally speak. "Thank you, thank you."
Paige gently withdrew her fingers and helped Azzi turn over, pulling her into her arms. "You're doing so good, baby. So fucking good for me."
Azzi was trembling, overwhelmed, but when she looked up at Paige, she saw nothing but love and desire in her eyes. "I love you," Azzi whispered.
"I love you too," Paige said, kissing her softly. Then her expression turned wicked. "But we're not done yet. Think you can ride Daddy's dick?"
Azzi's core clenched at the words, arousal flooding through her despite having just come twice. "Yes, Daddy."
Paige sat back on the couch, the strap jutting up from her hips, and Azzi's breath caught. It looked even bigger from this angle, thick and long, and she wasn't sure she could take it all.
"Come here," Paige said, patting her thighs. "Straddle me."
Azzi climbed onto Paige's lap on shaky legs, positioning herself over the toy. Paige's hands came to her hips, steadying her.
"Take your time," Paige said softly. "Go as slow as you need."
Azzi reached down, positioning the head of the strap at her entrance. She was soaking wet, but it was still a stretch as she started to sink down. The head pushed inside, and she gasped at the sensation.
"That's it," Paige encouraged. "Take Daddy's dick. Nice and slow."
Azzi lowered herself another inch, then another, her body adjusting to the size. It was so much, filling her completely, stretching her in a way that bordered on too much but felt incredible.
"Halfway there, baby. You're doing so good."
Azzi whimpered, her hands gripping Paige's shoulders for support. She took more, feeling impossibly full, and when she finally sank all the way down, they both groaned.
"Fuck," Paige breathed. "Look at you, taking all of Daddy's dick. So fucking perfect."
Azzi sat there for a moment, adjusting to the fullness. She felt split open, claimed, completely at Paige's mercy. When she finally started to move, lifting up and sinking back down, they both moaned.
"That's my girl," Paige said, her hands moving to grip Azzi's ass, helping guide her movements. "Ride it. Show me how much you love it."
Azzi found a rhythm, rolling her hips, taking the strap deep with every movement. The angle hit something perfect inside her, and she could feel another orgasm building already.
"Do you love Daddy's dick?" Paige asked, her voice rough.
"Yes," Azzi gasped. "I love it, Daddy. Love how you fill me up."
"Yeah? Love how I fuck you?"
"Yes, yes, I love how you fuck me." Azzi was bouncing faster now, chasing her pleasure. "Love everything you do to me."
Paige's grip on her ass tightened, and she started thrusting up to meet Azzi's movements, driving the strap even deeper. "That's right. This pussy belongs to Daddy, doesn't it?"
"Damn right you are." Paige pulled Azzi down for a bruising kiss, swallowing her moans. "My perfect girl. Taking my dick so well."
Azzi was close, so close, the pressure building low in her belly. "Daddy, please, I need–"
"Touch yourself," Paige commanded. "Make yourself come on Daddy's dick."
Azzi's hand flew to her clit, rubbing frantically, and within seconds she was coming, her pussy clenching around the strap as she cried out Paige's name – no, Daddy's name.
"Thank you, Daddy," she gasped when she could speak again, slumping forward against Paige's chest. "Thank you."
"One more. I need one more from you." Paige said, her voice softer now but still commanding.
Azzi's entire body felt like it was made of liquid, and she whimpered at the thought of coming again. "I don't know if I can–"
"You can," Paige assured her. "And you will. Because you're my good girl, aren't you?"
"Yes, Daddy."
"Then come sit on my face. Ride Daddy's tongue until you come one more time."
Azzi's pussy clenched at the words, despite how oversensitive she already was. She positioned herself over Paige's face, her thighs on either side of Paige's head, hovering uncertainly.
"Don't hover," Paige said, her hands gripping Azzi's ass and pulling her down firmly. "I want all of you. Smother me with this pretty pussy."
The first touch of Paige's tongue made Azzi cry out. She was so sensitive that it almost hurt, but Paige was gentle at first, licking broad strokes through her folds, avoiding her clit.
"That's it," Paige murmured against her. "Use me, baby. Grind on my face. Take what you need."
Azzi started moving her hips tentatively, rolling them in slow circles. Paige's tongue was everywhere – dipping inside her, licking around her entrance, flattening against her to give her more pressure.
"Daddy," Azzi sobbed, her hands reaching up to play with her own breasts, pinching her nipples through what remained of the lingerie.
Paige's grip on her ass tightened, encouraging her to move faster. One hand slid between Azzi's cheeks, a finger circling her back entrance teasingly, and Azzi gasped at the sensation.
"You like that?" Paige asked, her words muffled against Azzi's pussy. "Like when Daddy plays with your ass while I eat you out?"
"Yes, Daddy," Azzi moaned, grinding down harder. "Feels so good."
Paige's tongue found her clit then, circling it slowly before sucking it into her mouth. At the same time, she pressed her finger inside Azzi's ass, just to the first knuckle, and Azzi nearly came apart right then.
"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck–" Azzi chanted, her hips moving frantically now, chasing her pleasure. She was riding Paige's face without restraint, using her for exactly what Paige had told her to.
Paige moaned beneath her, the vibrations adding another layer of sensation. Her tongue worked Azzi's clit relentlessly while her finger moved in and out of her ass in a steady rhythm. Her other hand squeezed and kneaded Azzi's ass cheek, occasionally delivering a sharp slap that made Azzi jerk and moan.
"I'm gonna come," Azzi sobbed, tears streaming down her face from the overwhelming intensity. "Daddy, I'm gonna – I can't–"
"Come for Daddy," Paige commanded, her voice muffled but clear. "Come all over my face. Give me everything."
The orgasm hit Azzi like a freight train. Her whole body seized up, and then she was gushing, squirting directly onto Paige's face and into her mouth. It was the most intense orgasm yet, and Azzi couldn't stop crying, couldn't stop the words tumbling from her lips.
"I love you, I love you, I love you, Daddy–" she sobbed, her body convulsing with wave after wave of pleasure. "Thank you, Daddy. Thank you. I love you so much–"
Paige didn't stop, didn't let up, drawing out every last tremor until Azzi's vision started to blur at the edges. The world tilted sideways, and the last thing Azzi was aware of was Paige's strong arms catching her as everything went dark.
🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️
Paige felt the exact moment Azzi went limp, and her heart jumped into her throat even as she carefully guided Azzi's body down onto the rug beside her.
"Baby?" she said softly, checking Azzi's pulse – strong and steady. And her breathing was even and deep. Relief flooded through her. Azzi had just passed out from the intensity, overwhelmed by pleasure and exhaustion.
Paige grabbed the throw blanket from the couch and wrapped it around Azzi's naked body, then gently cleaned her face with the edge of the blanket, wiping away the tears and the evidence of her pleasure. She retrieved a warm, damp washcloth from the bathroom and tenderly cleaned between Azzi's legs, careful not to wake her.
Once Azzi was clean and comfortable, Paige gathered her into her arms and settled back against the couch, holding her close. The fire crackled beside them, casting dancing shadows across Azzi's peaceful face.
Paige looked down at the woman in her arms – this beautiful, strong, resilient woman who'd been through so much and still managed to trust Paige with everything. Her heart felt so full it might burst.
She thought about the first time she'd seen Azzi, exhausted and trying so hard to hide it, serving breakfast with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. She'd been drawn to her immediately, but it was more than just physical attraction. There was something about Azzi, a quiet strength, a determination to survive despite everything life had thrown at her, that called to something deep in Paige's soul.
Paige had money. She had success. She had built an empire from the ground up, and she was proud of that. But none of it meant anything if she didn't have someone to share it with. And she didn't want just anyone. She wanted Azzi.
She wanted to wake up next to her every morning. She wanted to support her dreams, watch her graduate, see her build whatever life she wanted for herself. She wanted to give Azzi everything she'd been denied – security, stability, unconditional love and support.
She wanted to marry her.
The thought had been growing in Paige's mind for months now, becoming more solid and certain with each passing day. She'd already started looking at rings, imagining the proposal. She'd wait until Azzi graduated, let her finish school, prove to herself that she could do it, that she was more than what her family had told her she was.
And then Paige would ask her to spend the rest of their lives together.
She imagined it sometimes, late at night when Azzi was asleep beside her. A house, not as big as Paige's current place, something cozier, more like a home. Maybe a dog, since Azzi had mentioned once that she'd always wanted one but never had the stability for it. Lazy Sunday mornings and inside jokes and growing old together.
Paige had never wanted that before. She'd been too focused on building her business, on proving herself, on success. But Azzi made her want different things. Softer things. A life that wasn't just about achievement but about love and partnership and building something together.
Azzi stirred slightly in her arms, making a small sound, and Paige pressed a kiss to her forehead.
"I've got you," she whispered. "Always."
The fire popped and crackled, and outside the windows, snow had started to fall again, blanketing the world in white. Inside the cabin, wrapped in warmth and firelight, Paige held the woman she loved and let herself imagine their future.
It was going to be beautiful.
Azzi's breathing remained deep and even, her face peaceful in sleep. The remnants of her Mrs. Claus lingerie were scattered across the floor, the Christmas lights they'd used as restraints still twinkling on the couch. The whole scene was debauched and perfect and theirs.
Paige adjusted the blanket around Azzi, making sure she was completely covered and warm. She could feel Azzi's heartbeat against her chest, steady and strong, and it filled her with a contentment she'd never known before.
This was what mattered. Not the hotels or the money or the success. This – holding the woman she loved, knowing she was safe and cared for and cherished. Knowing that Azzi loved her back, that she'd chosen Paige despite all her fears and walls and reasons to run.
"I love you," Paige whispered into Azzi's hair. "I'm going to spend the rest of my life making sure you never doubt that."
The fire burned low, casting a golden glow over them both. Outside, the snow continued to fall, but inside the cabin, wrapped in each other's arms, they had everything they needed.
Paige closed her eyes, holding Azzi close, and let herself drift in the warmth and peace of the moment. Tomorrow they'd wake up together, make breakfast, maybe go for a walk in the snow. They had the whole week ahead of them, just the two of them in this perfect little bubble.
Summary: Azzi Fudd can handle pressure on the court, but her life off it is falling apart. And so is her house. Or maybe she's just looking for problems so a certain blonde contractor keeps showing up?
tags: happy ending, lots of flirting, slow burn, eventual smut
a/n: Just a lil birthday fic that an anon requested to celebrate Ken’s @33lol birthday last week 🤭 also, she made the graphic and it's perfect 🥹🥹
wc: 4.3k+
warnings: fluff and then lots of smut, MDNI
After spending last year’s birthdays apart thanks to scheduling conflicts, Paige was determined to make Azzi’s count. She’d spent months turning over ideas, refusing to settle for a simple dinner reservation. This year wasn’t about a night out. It was about a full day of making the person who meant everything to her feel special.
The morning began with them tangled together, Azzi’s face tucked into Paige’s neck while her leg rested over Paige’s waist and her arm lay across her chest. Paige woke to the gentle buzz of her phone letting her know the breakfast she’d ordered the night before was arriving right on time.
Paige made note of how long they had until food would arrive and then looked back at Azzi who was still asleep and breathing slowly and steadily. She smiled and stayed perfectly still, fingers moving gently along Azzi’s back, letting the quiet stretch between them. She wanted to wake her slowly, the way Azzi liked, giving her time to come back to herself and drift toward her again, unhurried and wrapped in the quiet of the morning.
Eventually, Azzi shifted, her nose brushing against Paige’s collarbone.
“Why are you smiling like that, baby?” she mumbled, her voice still heavy with sleep.
Paige smiled down at her. “’Cause it’s your birthday, baby.” She leaned in then, slow and unhurried, kissing Azzi softly on the lips before pulling back to murmur, “Happy birthday, Az.”
Azzi smiled against her lips, eyes still half closed as she chased the kiss for a second longer. “Mm, happy birthday to me,” she murmured, her thumb brushing along Paige’s jaw. “I can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be.” She tucked herself closer, pressing her forehead to Paige’s. “Spending it with you makes it perfect.”
Paige laughed softly and pressed a lingering kiss to Azzi’s lips before slowly pulling away and untangling herself. “I’ll be right back, baby,” she whispered.
Azzi groaned in protest but smiled, tugging the blankets up as she watched Paige disappear down the hall. From the bedroom, she could hear the quiet rustle of bags and the clink of cups, Paige moving around with purpose.
When Paige came back, she was holding the tray with both hands, careful as she set it down between them. “Okay,” she said, clearly pleased with herself. “Birthday breakfast.”
Azzi pushed herself up, eyes scanning everything before landing on her plate. A fluffy omelette filled with vegetables and avocado sat neatly beside a slice of toast, looking very on brand for her. Next to it was a matcha latte, pale green and foamy.
“For you,” Paige said, nudging the mug closer.
Azzi smiled. “You know me too well.”
Paige’s waffles sat on the other side of the tray, stacked high and drowning in strawberries and Nutella. Azzi eyed them for a second, then reached over and stole a bite without asking.
“Hey,” Paige laughed.
“You knew this was going to happen,” Azzi said, already chewing, unapologetic. “Yours always tastes better.”
Paige shook her head, amused, and cut another piece of waffle, holding it out to her. “At least pretend you want your healthy breakfast.”
Azzi leaned in and took the bite from Paige’s fork, smiling around it before pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. “I do. I just want yours too.”
They settled back against the pillows, sharing food and stealing bites. Paige made sure they never fully untangled whether it was keeping an arm around Azzi’s shoulders or having their legs brush, toes finding each other under the blankets. She knew Azzi needed the closeness, the quiet reassurance of being held, and she gave it freely without thinking twice. Between soft laughter, lazy kisses, and constant little points of contact, it felt like exactly the kind of start Azzi wanted, warm and full and spent right there with Paige.
The rest of the day unfolded exactly the way Paige had planned it, every moment tailored to Azzi. They started at the bookstore, where Paige let Azzi wander as long as she wanted, arms filled with books she tried to put back until Paige insisted on buying anything that caught her eye.
She paid — of course she did — then waited until they were back in the car to pull out a surprise. The custom bookmark made Azzi roll her eyes on instinct. It was a full-on fan bookmark, Paige’s face printed across it alongside photos from her basketball highlights, dramatic and completely unnecessary. The smile that followed gave her away anyway, soft and a little helpless. She kept turning it over in her hand.
Lunch turned into hours once Paige revealed she’d rented out an entire restaurant-bar-arcade. They went head to head on every game in the place, laughing and trash-talking until their sides hurt. Paige became determined in the most endearing way at the claw machine, feeding it far too much money until she finally won Azzi a stuffed animal — a walrus or seal — she wasn’t totally sure, but she was excited to add it to her growing collection of prizes Paige won for her.
In the evening, after returning home to get all dressed up, Paige took Azzi out and led her to a private rooftop bar. The surprise waiting there hit Azzi all at once. Friends, family, familiar faces she hadn’t seen in too long, all gathered for her. The joy of it swelled in her chest, warm and overwhelming, and it all came back to Paige.
As the night wore on, Paige’s touch became more intentional. Her hand lingered longer at the small of Azzi’s back before sliding to her waist, fingers curling to make the message clear. When Azzi leaned in to hear someone speak, Paige’s palm set firmly at her hip, thumb pressing slow, possessive circles like she was reminding her exactly who she belonged to when this was all over.
Every brush felt deliberate now. Azzi lost track of conversations, forgot who was standing nearby, felt her breath catch every time Paige passed behind her. As the party began to thin, Paige wasn’t hiding it anymore. She pressed in behind her making it clear that waiting was becoming a challenge she didn’t plan on handling gently for much longer.
The moment the door closed behind them, the noise of the night finally dropped away. Paige didn’t rush anything. She stayed close, hands settling at Azzi’s waist, holding her to give them both a second to breathe. After hours of talking and moving and being “on,” it felt good to pause — no expectations or need to hurry.
“Happy birthday, Az,” Paige murmured, her voice low and close.
Azzi couldn’t find the words, her thoughts already somewhere warmer. She answered with a slow smile and a soft kiss to Paige’s lips. Paige kissed her back and they settled into each other. Their mouths moved and familiarity soon gave way to the heat building as their mouths moved together, tongues brushing and then pressing closer, breaths starting to lose their rhythm.
Paige’s thumbs pressed in a little firmer before sliding slowly up Azzi’s sides, grazing right beneath her chest. She pulled away from Azzi’s lips, but only to let her mouth find Azzi’s neck instead. Her kisses trailed lower, soft at first, before she caught Azzi’s collarbone gently between her teeth. Paige hovered there, mouth warm and unrelenting, sucking long enough to make sure it would leave its mark.
Azzi breathed out, “Paige,” her voice catching at the end as Paige traced her way back up her neck, lips lingering before catching gently at her earlobe. Her hands followed too, settling on her breasts with intention, holding her steady as her thumbs started rubbing over her nipples through her dress in slow circles, making Azzi’s breath stutter again as she leaned into it.
Paige smiled against her skin. She drew back to meet Azzi’s eyes, her hands still moving over her chest. Then she pinched and pulled at Azzi’s nipples as a way of signaling to move from the doorway.
Paige guided her down the hallway to their bedroom with fingers laced together. She didn’t rush Azzi onto the bed. She took her hand and led her in front of the floor-length mirror instead. Their reflections pressed together, her hands finding Azzi’s sides as she met her gaze through the glass.
“God you’re beautiful,” Paige murmured, voice low and sincere. She pressed a kiss to Azzi’s shoulder, then another higher up. “I love you so much. ”
Her hands moved slowly, deliberately finding the zipper at the back of the dress. She paused there for a second, thumbs brushing over Azzi’s skin before easing it down inch by inch. As the dress loosened, Paige let her hands trail along Azzi’s sides, steady and warm, guiding the fabric down her shoulders. She pressed a kiss to the curve of her neck, then another just below her ear, murmuring, “It’s your birthday. You deserve to feel adored.”
The dress slipped lower, pooling at Azzi’s feet. In the mirror, Azzi caught the way Paige was looking at her, soft and unguarded, taking her in as if this was the first time she’d seen her like this. She loved when Paige looked at her this way.
Paige didn’t rush the next moment. She stayed there with her arms wrapped around Azzi holding her for a bit longer.
“You’re so beautiful, mama,” she murmured softly as she stepped around to face her.
Azzi tilted her head up, already leaning in for a kiss, but Paige slipped away at the last second. Her hands skimmed slowly down Azzi’s sides as she lowered herself, eyes never leaving her face. Paige guided Azzi back a step, her hands firm at her hips. She couldn’t help but bite her bottom lip as she watched Paige sink to her knees in front of her, anticipation curling low in her stomach. Paige was moving the thong to the side before her knees hit the ground.
Azzi half expected for Paige to make her wait, to draw it out at the pace she’d been moving at since they came home, but instead she immediately felt a long, slender finger run through her folds in a slow swipe from her entrance to her clit.
“So wet for me already.” Paige thought to herself not realizing she had said it out loud.
Azzi moaned at the intrusion, her hips twitching as her hand flew to Paige’s shoulder for some kind of stability as the sensation ran through her.
“So sensitive.”
Then she felt Paige spread her open and kiss at her most sensitive part. It was gentle in a way that made her knees buckle. And then she stuck her tongue out and gave her clit the softest kitten lick igniting every nerve.
“Fuck, P.”
The scent of arousal and the taste of Azzi on her tongue erased any restraint Paige had left. She ate Azzi like she was starving, switching between licking the full length of her pussy and sucking on her clit. She never stayed with one rhythm for too long.
One of Azzi’s hands was anchored on Paige’s shoulder while the other slid into the blonde’s hair, fingers tightening there without thought. Azzi tugged on Paige’s hair harder than she meant, pulling Paige away from her center. She used it as an opportunity to take a quick breath and let the birthday girl know how much she was enjoying herself.
“You taste so good, babygirl — could eat you all night.”
Azzi whispered, “Feels so good, honey,” her palm warm against Paige’s cheek as her thumb dragged a slow, familiar path along her cheekbone. Paige held her gaze, eyes soft and open, letting Azzi see all the love she carried for her in that quiet moment before leaning into her touch.
They held each other’s gaze for a moment longer, Azzi’s breath hitching as she took in the sight of her girl on her knees, looking up at her with hooded blue eyes, drunk off her pussy. She bit her lip, unable to look away, watching Paige lean back in and latch onto her clit, never breaking eye contact.
It all became too much at once, she squeezed her eyes shut and threw her head back, a pornographic moan spilling from her before she could stop it.
Then she felt Paige’s tongue shift, sliding toward her entrance before pressing fully into her. Paige groaned at the warmth around her tongue, the sound vibrating low in her chest. She settled into it quickly, drawing back slightly before pushing in again, finding a pace that felt purposeful, controlled, and relentless.
Azzi hadn’t meant to look at the mirror, but the movement pulled her in and refused to let go. She watched herself grind her hips into Paige’s face, watched herself as her hand threaded through her girlfriend’s hair and tugged her closer. The confidence in it, the way she didn’t look away, only made it hotter.
“God, baby — don’t stop.” Azzi managed to say between moans.
Paige hummed in acknowledgment, nose pressing into Azzi’s clit letting Azzi grind — no fuck herself — on Paige’s face. Paige was more than happy to let her even if she couldn’t breath all that well.
“Shit baby.”
“I’m so close.”
Paige shook her head in acknowledgement and started moving quicker. Her hands had been firmly planted on Azzi’s ass, but she knew what would get her to her first release of many — she hoped. So Paige moved her hands up Azzi’s sides and further up still to her breasts. She started playing with her nipples. Flicking her thumbs quickly over the hardened buds.
“Oh, fuck — daddy.” Azzi practically screamed.
Paige palmed Azzi’s tits, massaging them firmly as her mouth found Azzi’s clit and sucked hard. The pleasure hit her all at once and Azzi came with a broken gasp, her knees nearly giving out beneath her. Paige caught her immediately, arms wrapping around her waist to keep her balanced, holding her close as she kept licking and kissing her through it.
Once she cleaned her all up, not leaving a drop behind, she kissed a path up Azzi’s body to her lips, letting Azzi taste herself on her lips and tongue.
“Ready for more, mama.” Paige couldn’t hold back the grin on her face.
Azzi nodded, already anticipating what Paige had planned.
Paige took Azzi’s hand and led her toward the bed. She stripped Azzi of her thong and bra, then quickly shed her own clothes in between kisses that never broke the moment. She sat on the edge of the bed and gestured for Azzi to lay across her lap, ass up. The shift in dynamic made Azzi blush, heat creeping up her neck, but the excitement underneath it had her almost giddy.
She complied, crawling into Paige’s lap, her breathing already uneven as her pussy ached with expectation. Paige’s hands stayed on her ass, rubbing and massaging it slowly. Azzi whined, biting her lip at the way her body moved beneath Paige’s touch, the control in it sending a shiver through her.
“I know whatchu need, mama,” Paige murmured possessively.
Azzi shifted slightly in her lap, breath hitching. “Oh yeah, P?” she asked, the words coming out as more of a challenge than she meant.
Paige’s fingers dug in a little. “Some birthday spankings,” she said, already sounding pleased with herself.
“Fuck — yes, please.”
Paige groaned at her eagerness. “You gonna count for me?”
“Yes, daddy.”
“Good girl.” Paige didn’t hide the satisfaction in her voice. “Guess how many spankings you’re gonna get, birthday girl?”
Azzi barely hesitated. “Twenty-four?”
“That’s right, babygirl,” Paige said softly.
And then, without warning, she gave Azzi’s ass a sharp smack. Azzi moaned at the impact, the sting blooming where Paige’s hand had landed.
“You gotta count, mama — remember?” Paige reminded her, voice gentle on the surface but edged with a tone that made it clear she didn’t want her to forget again.
“One…”
Paige lifted her hand and smacked her ass again, landing in the same spot. The skin there was already flushed, sensitive under her palm.
“Two…”
Paige repeated the process, each spank coming a little harder as she worked her way closer to the number she had in mind. Azzi could feel herself dripping down her thighs, the mix of ache and need overwhelming in the best way.
“Twenty-three…” Azzi whispered breathlessly, the number barely making it past her lips.
“Last one, Az,” Paige said, giving her a warning before the final spank cracked through the room.
“Oh fuck — twenty-four.” Azzi went lax at once, eyes slipping shut as she tried to pull herself back into her body, breath coming uneven.
Paige’s hand immediately softened, rubbing over Azzi’s ass to soothe the skin. She leaned down, pressing a few gentle kisses to Azzi’s back before shifting her weight. Azzi felt the movement and took the hint, easing herself off Paige’s lap and settling at the edge of the bed, waiting, anticipation coiling low.
Paige stood and leaned back in, lips brushing Azzi’s ear as she whispered, “On your knees, ma.”
The words sent a jolt straight through her. Azzi moved quickly, positioning herself on the bed as instructed. Paige gave her a small wink of approval before turning away and walking to the bedside table. She made quick work of the harness, pushing the vibrating end inside herself and turning it on before looking back at Azzi.
“Why don’t you get daddy’s cock nice and ready, baby?”
Azzi’s mouth started salivating immediately. She leaned forward onto all fours as Paige steadied the base of the strap, letting Azzi take control from there. She started slow, licking the tip first before swirling her tongue around it and taking the purple dildo into her mouth.
Paige pushed Azzi’s hair out of her face so she could watch. She looked so good like this, sucking on it. Paige swore she could almost feel it like it. Azzi pushed the cock further back, making her gag.
“Fuck, babygirl. You like sucking on daddy’s cock?”
Azzi hummed in agreement and started moving quicker. Paige felt the shift on her end that was pushed, vibrating inside her still.
“Such a good girl for me, Az.”
“Look so good like this.”
“Fuck — keep going just like that.”
Whenever Paige got talkative like this, Azzi knew she was close. Paige loved talking dirty almost as much as Azzi loved hearing it, and the tone of her voice gave her away every time. Azzi could already tell she’d be sore for days after tonight. She started thinking about the strap filling her and her pussy clenched in anticipation. Before her thoughts could linger, Paige started moving her hips slightly, pushing the strap into Azzi’s mouth further.
Azzi could hear Paige’s groans fill the room. She thought maybe Paige would come just from this — she had before — but Paige had other plans tonight. Azzi felt Paige’s hands settle on her shoulders, guiding her back down onto the bed.
Azzi could feel her pulse throbbing through her pussy as Paige hovered over her. Paige pressed her forehead to Azzi’s, breath close and heavy, before running the tip of the strap through her folds, slow and deliberate. She covered Azzi’s mouth with a kiss, swallowing the groan that was already breaking free.
“Shit, P. I need it.”
“Whatchu need, mama?”
“Need you — please,” she all but cried.
“You gotta be more specific.”
“Need you inside me right now,” she pleaded.
Paige obliged, pushing into Azzi, quick and hard.
“Oh fuck….”
Paige pulled back and pumped in again, a little harder this time. Then she shifted, lifting one of Azzi’s legs and settling her calf over her shoulder to change the angle. Azzi felt it immediately, the difference sharp and overwhelming, swearing the strap was in her stomach. Paige found a steady rhythm there and kept fucking Azzi like that, deep and relentless, holding her right where she wanted her.
“God — you’re so deep.”
Knowing Azzi was getting close already, she slowed down with her next push, letting Azzi feel every inch of the strap.
“Pussy so tight for me.”
“Feels so good, daddy.”
“Good, baby. I’m glad.” She said it with a smirk, a knowing glint in her eye. Azzi barely had time to wonder what the look meant before Paige pulled out of her, and the sudden emptiness tore a whine from her throat before she could stop it.
Her pussy ached to be filled again.
As if she were reading her mind, Paige reassured her, “Imma get you right, mama. You know that.”
Azzi’s eyes rolled back as she saw stars from the pleasure, the rush hitting her all at once and stealing her breath. Her hands were gripping Paige’s arms, fingers digging in, and she knew she’d left marks from the way she clenched down, body reacting before she could think to stop it.
Paige slapped it again.
She heard the slick first, a wet, unmistakable sound that made her breath hitch, then felt it splatter warm against her thighs. She knew it was probably a mess down there, and she knew without looking that some of it got on Paige too, the thought sent a sharp pulse of heat straight through her.
“That pussy’s mine, huh Az?”
“Yes, daddy. All yours.”
Then Paige flipped her onto her knees, pushing her down until her ass was up. She gave Azzi’s ass a hard smack, the sound sharp in the room, before driving into her from behind.
“Fuck… oh fuck — daddy — okay fuck.”
The pace was overwhelming. She could feel every smack of Paige’s hips against her ass as she bottomed out. Paige’s fingers were gripping her hips with an intensity that would definitely leave bruises to remember in the morning. She was talking filthy too — Azzi couldn’t even make out the words anymore, not over her own moans ringing in her ears as the pressure kept building with every stroke.
Azzi was so lost in it she didn’t hear Paige tell her to hold it. She started driving herself back into Paige’s thrusts instead, meeting her halfway, chasing the feeling without thinking. Paige let her do it a few more times, letting Azzi fuck herself back into her, before finally bending down, pressing close enough to kiss Azzi’s shoulder and whisper something low into her ear.
“Baby, did you hear me?”
That snapped Azzi out of the haze she’d been drifting in. “Sorry, daddy — shit feels so good,” she breathed, trying to catch herself. “What did you say?”
“I said you gotta hold it until I say so, mama.”
Azzi nodded, “Okay, daddy.” She loved when Paige made her wait, when she drew it out enough to make her beg for the release she knew was coming.
Paige started thrusting into her again, slow at first before quickly picking up the pace. She grabbed a fistful of Azzi’s hair and tugged, pulling an arch from her back. The bed creaked beneath them with each movement, the room thick with heat and the sound of uneven breathing. Their moans synced unintentionally, ragged and uncontrollable, bodies slick with sweat and sticky from how long they’d been tangled together.
“You wanna come, Az?”
“Fuck — please.”
“You can beg better than that, babygirl.”
“Please.”
“Please, daddy.”
“Fuck, please.”
“Wanna come all over your dick.”
“That’s a good fucking girl.” Paige replied with a smirk.
Paige reached around and found Azzi’s clit and started rubbing rough circles while continuing to pump into her fast. The pressure built too quickly, too intensely, until it only took a few more thrusts before Azzi was screaming her girlfriend’s name, voice breaking as it tore out of her. Paige didn’t pull out right away. She stayed there, holding her in place, letting Azzi ride out her high a little longer until her body finally went slack.
When Paige finally pulled out, Azzi flipped onto her back, chest rising and falling as she tried to find her bearings again. The room felt hazy, edges blurred, her head still swimming when she caught sight of Paige removing the harness and strap. She was so far gone that when Paige climbed over her and closed the space between them, sucking one of her nipples into her mouth, Azzi gasped sharply, and she thought she might tip right over the edge all over again.
“I want to feel you, mama.” Paige said tenderly before lining herself up to Azzi and grinding down into her. Paige’s pussy was absolutely dripping and when their lips touched her slick spread and mixed with Azzi’s.
And then their clits caught and rubbed together in the most perfect way.
“God, damn.” Paige breathed. “You see what you do to me, Az.”
“Fuck, P. You’re so wet.”Azzi gasped.
Paige smiled at her. “All because of you.”
Azzi whimpered, “Don’t stop — please. I’m gonna come again.”
Paige ground into Azzi harder, not giving her any room to breathe. Azzi clawed at her back, nails dragging, a broken sound slipping out of her throat. The friction built fast and unrelenting, leaving them breathless and shaking, both of them chasing the same moment, refusing to let go until they reached it together.
Neither of them lasted very long, and they came together — breathless and clinging — with each other’s names falling from their lips.
Afterward, everything slowed. Paige guided Azzi down with her, pulling her close until there was nothing between them, skin warm against skin. They were tangled together, foreheads touching, trading lazy kisses. Paige traced gentle patterns along Azzi’s back keeping her present while she was thinking about all the birthdays and mornings still ahead.
Azzi moved nearer, tucking herself against Paige, the rise and fall of her breath evening out as the quiet wrapped around them. Paige pressed a kiss to her hair, then her temple, pausing there.
“Did you have a good birthday?” she asked softly.
Azzi smiled against her skin, arms tightening around her just a little. “The best.”
Synopsis: Paige Bueckers is the lead singer of the famous band The Huskies. Azzi Fudd is an actress who just won a Golden Globe. They both have been following each other's careers without knowing for years. What happens when they finally cross paths at the Golden Globe after party?
Synopsis: Paige is a bartender living with her younger brother Josh since their parents passed away. When Josh one day brings home Azzi, his new girlfriend, Paige instantly feels uneasy and keeps her distance. Their clashing personalities ignite conflict, making the house feel more like a battleground than a home. But when Josh has to leave for a month-long trip to Europe, Azzi moves in with Paige unexpectedly. Forced to share the same space, the tension between them grows, bubbling under the surface with unspoken emotions and complicated feelings that neither of them fully understands or wants to accept.
Synopsis: Basketball is all that’s ever mattered to Paige. After years of chasing a championship at UCLA, she transfers to UConn for her final season - one last chance to make her dream come true. But life at UConn turns out to be very different from what she’s used to in Los Angeles, and her quiet, guarded nature is quickly put to the test. Everything begins to change when she meets her new captain, Azzi Fudd - a charismatic and kind leader who has led the team to two straight titles. Known as “the people’s princess,” Azzi is confident, magnetic and cool - everything Paige isn’t. From being the good girl who only ever cared about basketball and her education, Paige finds herself navigating the parties, alcohol, friendships and the unstoppable fascination with her captain.
When Azzi Fudd gets drafted to the LA Sparks, the last thing she expects is to end up on the same team as her ex and former best friend, Paige Bueckers. Nine months after their break up, they are back on the same court, running the same plays, and trying to pretend the past doesn't still burn. But as training camp heats up and their old chemistry sparks to life, they will have to figure out if what they lost is really gone… or just waiting for a second shot.
contains: vet!paige x rookie!azzi. age gap (ten years). yearning. azzi fangirling over everyone. paige staring at azzi like idek what. pretending like you don't want something except it's all you've ever wanted. alcohol/drunkness. the word "nodded" an egregious amount of times
word count: 10.3k
niyah speaks: chapta one hope ya enjoy itttt! proofread (not really) inspired but trouble.
azzi was not ready for training camp. she’d nearly gotten whiplash from the speed of which her life was going. she’d just wrapped up her collegiate career, been drafted, moved across the fucking country, and now she was about to walk into the next four years of her life.
she felt like she was a kid again. she’d spent four years at college and became head huncho there. here she was a little fish again. she had no rank here, no one cared about who she was.
the california sun beat on her as she stood outside of the sephora performance center. it was huge— bigger than anywhere she’d practiced or played before. she knew it used to belong to the warriors and azzi kept thinking about the fact that steph fucking curry used to be in this building every day.
she told herself that steph had been the seventh pick and he changed the game of basketball. that was number one and she had nothing to worry about and that it was ridiculous for her to be standing outside of this place, questioning her entire life.
she felt like she was going to faint, and she didn’t know if it was because of the weather, or because she was about to meet her new co-worker, paige bueckers. (it was for sure because of paige, but that was neither here nor there.)
she could do this. she’d played this game before. she’d had sixteen first days of school and had too many new teams to count.
a hand clutched her shoulder from behind. “we can do this.”
it was kk arnold. she was a guard for UConn and famous for giving azzi a run for her fucking money. she would die a defensive legend, and azzi was glad their rivalry was finally over. she smiled at the shorter girl, thankful that she was willing to comfort azzi.
she shrugged her shoulders and repeated kk’s words. “we can do this.”
and then they walked in the building like they both belonged there.
the building was shiny with black and purple interior, and the AC was bumping. it was clean and it smelled like lemons and billionaires. the arena was was built for legend. it demanded success, not encouraged it. you didn’t train here so you could lose.
when they got down the hallway, azzi froze and kk kept walking like she didn’t see the giant photos on the walls.
on the left wall of the hallway was the picture of steph celebrating with the team. they were cheering under falling confetti while he presented their trophy. azzi knew the photo had been taken when GSV won their first championship because she’d been watching that game, wearing paige’s jersey for good luck.
on the right wall, was a picture of paige. she must have just done something big because she was mid-scream with her fist on her chest. you could see every muscle in her neck, every vein in her bicep.
azzi shook her head because eye fucking a photo of her vet had to be against a moral rule. she wasn’t doing that anymore— she couldn’t do that anymore.
she made her way into the locker room and walked in there like she was the calmest person ever. like she was Normal about this whole situation.
she wasn’t. all she could think was don’t stare at her, don’t touch her, don’t say weird shit to her.
someone had an oil diffuser. it smelled like cloves and something sweet and everyone was laughing and talking like this was a scene from Remember the Titans. when they registered that someone had entered, every single head turned.
“well, if it isn’t ms. number one!” angel reese was the first person to speak. “hey, fudd.”
“h-hi.” azzi stuttered because angel reese knew her name. “hey!”
of course angel knew her fucking name. she wasn’t a nobody. she was azzi jazlyn fudd, and she deserved to have WNBA legends know her name. she would be a damn WNBA legend.
rae burell stalked over to azzi and smiled like she wasn’t lording over her. “your locker’s next to kk’s.”
no one else said anything. they all just watched azzi walk through the room like she was performing the walk of shame. she didn’t know why she was so fucking shy, but she was trying to hype herself out of it.
aneesah morrow walked by her when she sat down and looked up from her phone. she grinned at azzi and said welcome to the league, like this wasn’t the scariest day of her fucking life.
azzi smiled at her and turned to kk, who was tying her shoes like she’d already made the damn team. she scanned the room, looking for the root of all her nerves, but it wasn’t hard to tell that there was no paige bueckers in sight.
“you okay?” kk asked, like she could see azzi felt mildly disappointed. “yeah i’m just,” azzi forced herself to stop searching. she looked at her knee’s instead. “i’m soaking it all in. i feel like i’m just processing that this is my life now.”
there wasn’t a big part of azzi that was truly stressing, but that seemed like a better answer than i’m looking for the woman that i once named as my celebrity crush during a slam interview, but i’m media trained now so she’s no longer my celebrity crush.
“yeah, me too. but,” kk shrugged. “we’re here for a reason. you worked for this shit. enjoy it. don’t ruin it for yourself.”
azzi nodded and thanked kk and told herself to re-fucking-lax. she reminded herself that nothing was ever this serious and that paige would have to come eventually. she even started gaslighting herself into believing that she honestly was just excited to learn from the woman, and she wasn’t going to have to restrain from drooling all over her.
she audibly spoke to herself out-loud while she changed into her training shorts. when it was time to change her shirt, her necklace got caught in the elastic of her tanktop, and she was stuck with her arms in the air.
and then, because the universe fucking hated her, she heard kk go “oh shit.” and angel say “hey paigey.” and azzi suddenly knew what every character in every movie felt when they said “she’s right behind me, isn’t she?”
azzi tugged her elbows down and turned around to see paige. fucking. bueckers. dapping angel up. she wasn’t even looking in azzi’s direction, but still, azzi was frozen. shirt bunched up at her wrists, hair probably disturbed from it’s bun, toes out in the wind.
for most of azzi’s life, paige seemed… unattainable. like a comic book character— like superwoman. she’d been this big figure in her life. an idol, a crush, the figment of azzi’s dreams. and now, she was looking dead at her.
paige madison bueckers, in the flesh. she had on black sweats and a white tee with her practice backpack on. she probably didn’t even know that azzi was literally about to die at the sight of her. how was paige supposed to know that this exact moment had played as a daydream in azzi’s head over and over since she was twelve?
paige dropped her bag at her locker and sat down to take off her shoes and when she bent to untie them, she looked right at azzi who was still tragically frozen and tracking her every movement.
azzi stopped breathing when her eyes locked with paige’s. they were so blue and she was so pretty and much bigger than azzi thought. she was only an inch or two taller than azzi, but she was so broad. paige took up space. even hunched over at her locker. she looked at azzi like she was trying to telepathically say stop fucking staring at me, you half naked rookie creeper.
or maybe azzi was looking too far into things.
either way, she pulled her tank all the way off and unclasped her necklace before shoving her training shirt on and burying her face in her own duffel. the goal was to pretend that she wasn’t caught eye fucking someone she’d never even had a conversation with. she told herself it was okay. that it wasn’t that bad.
she grabbed her water bottle and then dropped it back in her bag and buried her face in her hands because it was that bad.
you said you wouldn’t stare. you literally had one damn job, azzi.
she couldn’t believe she’d failed so easily. but honestly, it wasn’t her fault. it’s just… it was paige bueckers. azzi wasn’t a statue. she was just a girl. she wouldn’t give up on herself so easily. she told herself that she’d do better next time and that country girls made due.
she grabbed her water bottle and zipped her duffel shut with much more force than necessary because if she couldn’t keep her corneas off of paige, she could at least get some shots up before anyone else got in the gym.
—
azzi missed thirteen shots before the rest of the team slugged into the gym, nothing but basketball walks in sight. kk came up to her immediately, and she didn’t say anything, but azzi knew she was still nervous by the way she was literally bouncing on the balls of her feet.
azzi wouldn’t speak on it, because she felt like she was going to throw up. she was bricking on her first day of training camp. she had two and a half weeks to prove that she belonged on this team— paige’s team— and she would never make the roster if she kept fucking up.
she took a few steps, finding her calm in the sound of her sneakers squeaking against the floor. but then, just when her heart was beginning to slow down, she saw paige again.
now clad in her practice uniform, she was shooting from the corner, and of course she was making every shot. azzi felt sick all over again because for one, she was watching paige bueckers warm up, and two, she couldn’t remove this training camp from the paige bueckers of it all.
she had to stop thinking of this as paige’s team and imagining herself as paige’s rookie. no matter how much she wanted that, she was psyching herself out, and she was going to ruin any chance she had, number one pick or not.
“you’re staring.” kk came up behind azzi, “what do you think she—”
“don’t.” azzi shut her eyes, like maybe that would hide the fact that she was actively ogling a woman in public. “can we just like… not acknowledge it?” she turned to kk and smiled her most humiliated smile. “i gotta get through this without embarrassing myself.”
but there was no way that was going to happen. she was so in tune with everything paige was doing, even behind her back. she knew that paige still hadn’t missed from the sound of the net still swishing. she knew a practice player was feeding paige the ball faster because just before every swish, she heard a grunt. she was way too aware of a woman she still hadn’t had a vocal conversation with, and she hated it.
“let’s just stretch.” she said, grabbing kk and pulling her to the cart with the resistance bands.
she repeated her mantra over and over as she settled into warm ups.
i can do this.
i can do this.
i can do this.
i can do. this.
she found a rhythm, eventually. she put her beats on and pressed play on an old kehlani album. her warm-up got better as she re-found her mojo and for a blissful moment in time, azzi was just hooping. playing the game she loved with no distractions. she was sinking everything she threw out, and nothing could break that relationship between her and the ball.
and then out of nowhere, she heard, “FUDD!”
she turned around, ripping her headphones off her ears like she’d just been caught watching porn on the library computer. it was rae, waving her over to the huddle. paige walked up to the group and azzi had to force her eyes to stay on the ground under her, rather than the sweaty woman directly across from her. paige wasn’t looking, but azzi really wished she was. she wanted to hit herself for the thought.
coach natalie nakase— a legend in her own right— went off, listing off whatever she’d written on her clipboard and azzi took note of it all, because she was going to be a valkyrie and she was going to be rookie of the year and she was going to be a fucking legend her own damn self.
when the huddle broke. azzi put her headphones back in her duffel and watched everyone get ready. everyone except paige, who was standing on the sidelines, arms big and crossed over her chest, biceps poking out of the sleeves of her GSV practice tee. azzi promised herself that she wouldn’t do this— stare and want and panic. but that’s all she’d been doing.
regardless, she was determined and ready for whatever was about to be thrown at her. she was a basketball player. a great one. she had a fucking ESPY and held national records and now was the time to act like it. so when coach called on her, paige, and kk to run one of the three plays that she went over, azzi thought back to the huddle, and remembered what she had to do.
on the way to their position, kk elbowed her, a silent reminder to calm the hell down. azzi was anything but calm, but she’d fake it till she made it. she shook her head and smiled at kk, silently saying i’m fine.
they got into position and paige called the play in her deep leader voice that azzi hadn’t taken into account until that very moment
stop. azzi said to herself. focus.
she closed her eyes and inhaled through her nose. she felt her shoulders fall with the exhale.
i can do this.
she opened her eyes, half expecting everyone to be staring at her in wait. obviously, no one cared that she was taking a breath. kk was on one knee tying her shoe and paige was still staring at the court like it held the answers to all life's questions.
then coach blew the whistle and the ball was tossed to paige. kk was on her like a gnat at a barbecue. her defense was top tier, it’s what she was known for and why she was GSV’s second pick. paige played with her a little, grinning as she side stepped to escape kk, but eventually, like the play called for, she passed the ball to azzi.
the concept of bueckers to fudd flashed through azzi’s head just as she took the shot. she knew the shot was off before it left her hands, and she mentally winced before it clanged off the rim.
kk made a hissing sound and physically flinced. azzi stayed frozen in place. her body was suddenly too heavy to move after horrendously failing in front of her idol and all her peers.
no one actually said anything about it. they all just kept playing and practicing and that was almost worse than chastising azzi. but she told herself she’d adjust and that it was only once. that everyone misses and it was only the first day.
except she shot like that for the rest of practice. miss after miss, humiliation after humiliation. every shot she missed felt heavy. like no matter how much azzi tried, she was getting pulled further and further under.
after practice, she watched everyone file out of the gym, and tried to act like she didn’t care if they were staring or not. they weren’t, but she kind of wished they were because that would mean they were expecting something of her. they all just walked out, patting her on the back and talking about their lunch plans, like they knew she wasn’t worth her hype.
she stayed on the bench cursing herself out. she was so mad, and she couldn’t blame anyone but herself. because she’d done this before. shooting was her bread and butter, and she couldn’t get her fucking shot off.
she stood at the free throw line, dribbling a ball and trying to remember that feeling from earlier. when she had her headphones on and couldn’t hear anything— wasn’t aware of anything. she loved basketball because it required a certain numbness that azzi didn’t feel for anything else.
she felt everything, yes. the adrenaline and the competition and the speed of it all. but it was natural. she didn’t have to pretend for this. it didn’t come with any expectation besides get more points than the other team. and win or lose, azzi knew she was good at this.
she threw a shot up, missed. she got her own rebound and tried again. over and over and over, she shot and missed but she was determined to leave this building having fixed whatever was going on.
a voice behind her made azzi turn towards the doors. “this is the definition of insanity.”
she’d heard that voice on tv. she’d heard it on her phone, and her laptop. she’d even heard it on the radio. but she’d never heard it in real life. she’d never heard it directed at her. she’d never felt its attention.
she looked at paige, who was making her way across the court. suddenly, azzi fudd- yapper extraordinaire had nothing to say. “huh?”
“to do the same thing repeatedly while expecting a different result,” paige was closer now. not as close as azzi would always want her to be, but as close as she was going to get. a respectable distance between two co-workers.“is the definition of insanity.”
azzi didn’t have to catch the tone of paige’s voice to know that she wasn’t being condescending. she seriously thought azzi’s non-stop shooting was useless. azzi felt a pang in her chest that she had never felt before.
she looked down at the ball that she held in her hands. “i’m trying to fix it.”
she didn’t need paige to tell her that she was doing something wrong. she knew that— everyone in the gym today knew that. she just didn’t know what, and having this woman— this fantasy of azzi’s— pop her bubble wasn’t going to help her.
paige shook her head, like she found azzi ridiculous. “you can't fix it if you don’t know what’s broken about it.”
maybe paige did think azzi was ridiculous. maybe she found azzi unworthy or whatever. that would be warranted. she hadn’t proven her worth today. nothing she’d done was representative of the past eight years of her life.
the realization that paige bueckers thought she was a fraud made azzi’s chest burn. she felt— she didn’t know what she felt but she knew that it hurt. but she couldn’t be hurt in front of paige beuckers. that wasn’t respectable, it was weak. so she squared her shoulders and put as much conviction in her voice as possible.
“yeah, i know.” she blinked, as if to say duh. “i’m working on figuring that out.”
paige looked at her and maybe azzi was hallucinating but she could have sworn paige’s eyes twitched. like she was royally pissed off— like azzi had royally pissed her off.
“you’re favoring your left.”
azzi shook her head off instinct. she was defensive without reason. “no, i—”
paige put a hand up, “i know you know everything and no one can tell you anything, but today you’re nervous.”
she sounded so calm for someone who was invalidating someone else’s argument before they could even get it out. she didn’t look calm, though. her jaw was tight and her eyes were like hard, blue stones being thrown at azzi’s face.
she continued her explanation, shrugging her visibly stiff shoulders. “new team, new court. you got the jitters so just slow down a bit.”
azzi stared. she didn’t realize it, but she was full-blown, flat-out staring at her veteran like she hung the moon and stars.
it wasn’t lost on her that paige had to know how azzi usually shot to know that she was favoring her left. with that much bass in her voice, paige knew what she was talking about. that meant she’d watched azzi’s film.
so maybe she didn’t think azzi was worthless, or undeserving. maybe she expected more because she knew what azzi could do. for a single second, azzi felt a sense of pride in the fact that she’d been significant enough for paige to watch her film, but then she began to internally deflate because she’d obviously disappointed her.
“i promise you that’s what it is.”paige took a step back with her hands in the air as if to say believe me or don’t, i really couldn’t give a fuck less.
azzi snapped out of it, blinking back into the moment. she got into position the way she always had. shoulders square, elbows tucked, hips square, feet square. she let the ball fly, and it banged off the iron the same way it did all day.
paige put her hands on her hips, shaking her head as she got azzi’s ball.
paige bueckers was rebounding for her.
“stop thinking about it.” she approached azzi, ball in hand. she stood directly in front of her with those same hard, blue eyes. she handed the ball to azzi, but never took her hands off it. it sat between the two, in four hands, pressing into azzi’s belly. “look at the hoop. feel the ball. position your body in the way you know is effective.”
the strictness in her voice and the hardess in her demeanor made azzi’s heart boom in her chest. do what she said streamlined in her head as she set herself up again, this time paying more attention to her body. she shot, she scored.
she could have cried.
“there you go.” paige didn’t sound the least bit impressed. “you feel that?”
azzi looked down at her feet, still planted in position. she looked back up at an expectant paige and nodded. paige got the ball again and passed it to her from under the net.
“now shoot.”
azzi shot again. she made it. paige passed her the ball.
“again.”
shoot. swish. ball..
“again.”
shoot. swish. ball.
“last time.”
shoot. swish. ball.
“good.” paige voice was the slightest bit higher, and azzi caught it. she held onto it and smiled. “that’s my number one pick.”
my number one pick…
azzi’s lungs may as well have dropped from her body because they were not working. they’d magically lost their function at the idea of azzi being paige’s anything.
her voice got stuck in her throat as she squeaked out “thank you.”
“you’re gonna be my rookie, fudd.” paige stated like it was gospel. “your misses are the teams misses— my misses.”
“right. yeah.” she agreed because what else could she do when her brain was actively malfunctioning? “well, still. thank you.”
paige cut her eyes and looked at azzi for a second longer than comfortable, and then turned to the door. she brought one finger in the air, twirling it.
“wrap it up fudd.”
and azzi did end up leaving after that, but it took all of five minutes to process what just happened to her. she’d been planning to stay a while longer and shoot some more, but that didn’t matter anymore.
she was paige’s rookie. paige’s number one pick.
paige had said that herself. and logically—realistically, azzi knew that paige didn’t mean it in the way azzi was picturing. she knew paige would never mean it that way. that she couldn’t.
but it was okay for azzi to imagine, right? to hope
⇆
training camp felt like it came faster than it usually did. it wasn’t like paige was waiting for it to come, it was quite the opposite.
she was excited to meet her rookies, that much was true. she always looked forward to seeing them, basking in that youth. paige remembered that feeling. of vincibility. of not knowing if she belonged.
she’d been the first player to ever be drafted to the valks, but of course, vets had been traded there. she had tiffany hayes to guide her through the trenches of her rookie year, and that was nice. but paige has always been a leader. she’d never been okay with being anything other than the big fish, so it didn’t take more than two seasons for her to start calling shots.
so yes. she was looking forward to meeting the rookies. but also, there was a nervousness.
the night of the draft, she laid in bed with her covers up to her chin, googling azzi fudd.
she’d seen the highlight reel, but paige wanted to see the bad. she wanted to see azzi’s misses and how she reacted to a loss. she needed proof that azzi was just like every other twenty-three year old. she needed to see her angry and reactive and irresponsible because then paige wouldn’t be so… interested.
but she didn’t find what she was looking for.
azzi almost never reacted when she missed a shot, and if she did, she did it with a bat of her lashes and a drop of her jaw.
when she lost a game, she didn’t cry during the presser, she spewed out positive-hunky-dory bullshit about learning from the loss.
even her taunting was neutral. in heated games, azzi would score big points and smile at her defender as if to say i’m prettier than you and better than you, so there’s no need to beat my chest because clearly you’re already a loser.
azzi wasn’t angry, she wasn’t reactive. she was as pure of a player as it got. and paige didn’t know what to do with that, so she did nothing.
she didn’t answer any questions about azzi. she didn’t allow herself to google her anymore. she swiped when azzi came up on her social media.
she told herself that it didn’t matter— that azzi didn’t matter. she was just another rookie.
paige walked into the locker room and dapped up angel. she said hi to aneesah and rolled her eyes at rae. it was routine. it was usual.
she knew the rookies were in the building because she heard oh shit come from kk, who she’d met a few times when she attended uconn games. she was fast and she’d be good. paige was sure she’d be added to the roster.
paige knew azzi would be an issue before she even got to the gym. so, like any responsible adult, she kept an eye on her.
she watched azzi fight her way out of her shirt. watched her talk to herself. watched her walk out of the locker room like she didn’t look like she wanted to fall into the floor two minutes prior.
she watched azzi’s shot bounce off the rim for the entirety of the practice, and she watched azzi not complain about it once. she watched azzi stay after practice. watched her try and fail to lock in.
paige only stepped into the gym when the second hand embarrassment became too much. when she helped azzi with her shot, it was because she was her vet and azzi just kept doing the same thing over and over and it was ridiculous.
it was her job and azzi’s shooting was pitiful. that was all.
so paige helped and she even rebounded for her. she felt an unnatural sense of pride when azzi’s shot went it. she felt an unnatural sense of accomplishment when the twenty-three year old’s smile grew with every shot she made.
when azzi thanked her, paige noticed that twinkle in her eye had returned, and she decided it was in her best interest to leave the gym.
she’d done her job. she’d fixed azzi’s shot. that was all.
─
paige didn’t know what happened after that first day, but she knew azzi seemed to have a battery in her back.
coach had put her all over the floor and she excelled. she passed every test, just like paige knew she would. for the rest of camp, azzi had proven why she was the number one pick. no one questioned it, even that day but paige still felt like azzi’s success over the camp was something to be noticed.
she only ever noticed it in public though. she only ever allowed herself to think about azzi when it was appropriate— when it applied to basketball or to the team. sometimes she’d see azzi on her social media, and she’d scroll at the sight of those big brown eyes. she didn’t even let the videos play because for some reason, it felt wrong.
paige wasn’t shocked that azzi and kk were picked to be added to the roster. they’d practically forged themselves into valkyries by the time camp was over.
paige had mild concern for the overall unseriousness of her team, but she wasn’t too worried. kk and angel were already calling themselves biggie and smalls, azzi and aneesah had shared hair and nail info, and the group chat had already been renamed “strong black women + paige”
but that was all fine. that was chemistry. that was bonding, and paige was the biggest team bonding advocate that ever lived. which is why before every season, she took her team out and let them be in the wild for the last time for the foreseeable future.
she remembered being a rookie on the newest team in the league and feeling so scared to breathe wrong in front of her elders. she didn’t want that. fear to ask questions opened the door for fuck ups that paige didn’t have time for.
she got ready on the phone with angel. they’d been drafted the same year, but they weren’t on GSV together until three seasons later. she was the closest thing to a best friend that paige had besides drew.
she had angel on speaker with her phone tucked into her sports bra, mic side up. they ran over the plan for the night as paige looked through her closet.
she froze when angel asked, “you gonna stop being mean to fudd tonight?”
“what?” she responded, her voice too high to be convincing of the fact that she had no clue what angel was talking about. “i’m not mean to her.”
angel laughed, “you don’t talk to her.”
“i don’t talk to anyone.”
that was true. paige was a talkative person, but not to people who weren’t in her immediate circle. she’d learned the hard way that being on her team didn’t make someone a member of her circle.
“yeah but you for sure don’t talk to her.” angel scoffed. “the girl adores you. she’s always looking for you when she does something good and you just don’t do shit.” there was silence because paige had no idea what to say to that. and of course, angel took the silence as a chance to add insult to injury. “you’re like a deadbeat daddy.”
“i’m not her fuckin parent.” paige spat out.
agitation was an easier route to take than admitting to herself that she purposely avoided azzi. anything was an easier route to take than trying to figure out why she purposely avoided azzi.
“she doesn’t look for me, and even if she did, she shouldn’t be looking to me for validation. she’s an adult. she should be confident in her abilities.”
she sounded like an asshole and she knew it. she’d never said that about any rookie ever, and she knew it was bullshit. she was more worried about the fact that her distaste for azzi was noticeable.
she could hear angel smacking her lips through the phone. “were you confident in your abilities your rookie year?”
angel knew the answer to that question, and paige knew the only reason she asked it was so that paige would have no leg to stand on. still, paige grumbled. “it’s not about me.”
“you can’t put expectations on her when you couldn’t even do it yourself.” angel argued, her baltimore accent wrapping around every vowel. “at the very least, she looks up to you, and you’re hurting her feelings.”
paige sighed, fed up with the argument that she was clearly going to lose. “bro—”
angel cut her off. “you are hurting. her. feelings.”
“okay.” paige put her hands up like angel could see her. “okay, i’ll talk to her.”
“thank you.” angel sounded much sweeter than she actually was.
⇆
the bar (it was really a club and it was chosen by angel, of course) was big and crowded and loud, and it was the perfect vibe for the night. there was enough people and noise for everyone to be more focused on not getting lost or roofied than the WNBA team hoarding in their section.
the team had taken advantage of the fact that paige put her card down for the tab. there were three different bottles of tequila and four pitchers of some fruity, mixed drink being passed around and paige realized that she was entirely too old for this shit.
she poured herself baby shots and swallowed them in sections instead of taking them to the head like rae and kennedy. she wasn’t drunk. she wasn’t even tipsy, but she had enough that she was warm all over and felt comfortable enough to order wings for the whole table.
outside of the club, azzi sat in the back of an uber elbow to elbow with kk, who was taking a million selfies of them. she smiled and posed for the camera like she hadn’t nearly given up on the whole night because she couldn’t pick an outfit.
her indecisiveness would probably be the death of her, but she’d worry about that when she had to.
when she facetimed jana to show the final fit, jana asked if she was going to something stupid. azzi promised she wouldn’t, though she knew jana didn’t believe her.
but azzi was serious. she promised herself that she wasn’t going to make a fool of herself— not anymore. she’d solidified her spot on the team and signed her contract. there could be no bad days.
when she got out of the uber, she hooked her arm with kk’s and showed her ID to the bouncer who was too busy looking at azzi to confirm whether she was old enough to enter the building. he let them in anyway, with a smirk in azzi’s direction and a scowl to kk who’d been mean mugging him the whole time.
she felt the heat of the building the second she stepped into it. you could tell that everyone in the building was having a good time. the moisture in the air could only come from lack of personal space and shared body heat.
every step she took towards their section, azzi felt her doubt creep in.was her skirt too short? did her boots look dumb with the outfit? should she have just worn her hair down instead of up?
she shook her head and put her chin up because she should only care about how she looked to herself. she thought she looked hot when she left home, and silly things like anxiety weren’t gonna change that. not tonight.
tonight, she’d have fun and not care about who was paying attention to her. (she only wanted the attention of one person, but again— she told herself she wasn’t doing that anymore.)
paige knew azzi had arrived before she even saw her. angel and aneesah let out a collective “dayum” with their heads whipped toward the stairway of their section.
when she turned around to see what had drawn such a reaction, she nearly choked on the drink she’d been nursing. the reactions had been valid because azzi looked absolutely fucking— nice.
paige thought azzi looked nice in her tight, cropped brown tee and denim mini skirt— so mini that with every step she took up the stairs, paige could see her soft pink panties. she had on black knee-high boots and a purse that matched her shoes. her curls were in a ponytail that looked like it was gonna fall loose with the slightest movement of her head.
her eyes followed azzi from the entrance to the table where kk began preparing her and azzi’s welcome shots. she watched azzi take the shot and lick the salt from the back of her hand without making a face. she realized she’d been staring when rae got up and plopped between azzi and kk with the fakest smile paige had ever seen.
“i love your boots!” rae gushed, drawing azzi’s attention so that her back was to paige.
the night went on from there. azzi did a great job of not looking at paige. she learned it was easier when her back was turned because it was literally impossible to turn her neck one hundred and eighty degrees.
eventually, she’d drank enough that she didn’t have to remind herself not to look. she’d been too caught up in everything else.
like keeping an eye on kennedy and rae, who left their section to dance. they were pressed against two guys who were noticeably shorter than them. azzi watched them in amusement because they were drunk enough that they didn’t care.
kk elbowed her gently, “you want another drink, fudd?”
she looked at the table in front of her, littered with discarded earrings, cellphones, bottles and an empty basket of wings.
she shrugged, deciding that she’d be fine. she didn’t drive and she knew her teammates wouldn’t let anything happen to her. “um… sure!”
kk picked up a glass. “shots?”
azzi smiled, clapping to herself like she’d never drank in her entire life. “yes, please!” her tipsy-ness was making her giggly.
kk poured the shots and the two rookies cheers-ed for the fourth time that night. the alcohol burned it’s way down azzi’s throat and warmed her chest, but she didn’t need a chaser. she was a good drunk and she’d always done her business like a pro.
when kk was done grimacing and shaking her head, she looked towards the other couch where angel and aneesah were talking. “we’re fucked up in front of our elders.”
azzi turned to the pair. they were so… grown up. like they had not a care in the world because they knew they’d be okay regardless. azzi envied that. the security in it all.
kk was nervous around them, and she was finally talking about it. and azzi didn’t have much to say to her because she was still nervous, too. especially when it came to paige, who azzi thought was staring at her when she arrived. or maybe that was wishful thinking. maybe she had imagined the heat of paige’s gaze and the sound of her throat clearing when azzi turned.
she shook her head because kk was already feeling nervous and allowing herself to spiral wouldn’t help anything.
“they’re our co-workers.” she said.
kk shook her head, clenching her fists. “they still scare the shit out of me.”
they scared azzi too, but now wasn’t the time for that. now was the time to be a leader. an inebriated, tequila brained leader.
“they’re our teammates, kk.” she gestured towards the table. “they’re fucked up too.”
it was true. not everyone was capital-D-Drunk but no one was sober enough to drive home.
“PSKI WITH THE WIIIINGGSSSS!”
azzi and kk snapped their heads toward angel at the same time, and followed as she danced to paige who was approaching with two baskets of food.
it was just wings and fries, but she could have been carrying baskets of slop and azzi would have still felt pinned to her seat. she was almost in pain from trying to keep it together, but paige was so beautiful that azzi convinced herself it wasn’t just a her thing.
anyone would nearly salivate at the sight of a beautiful woman in baggy jeans and a tight black tee with her silver rope chain resting against her collarbones. anyone would look at the bun sitting snug at the back of her head and wonder what that hair would feel like between their fingers. and anyone would stop breathing in a drunken stupor if said beautiful woman smiled(?) at them in a rowdy club section.
paige looked like she was smiling. at azzi— or in azzi’s direction which technically counted as smiling at her.
paige watched azzi’s face fall to her lap the second their eyes locked. she hadn’t spoken to the rookie all night, and azzi hadn’t tried to speak to her. paige figured that angel had blown azzi’s admiration out of proportion. she seemed perfectly fine in her corner with kk.
she hadn’t even noticed paige leaving the section, and she wouldn’t have noticed her return if angel hadn’t hollered like a maniac. but she had— azzi looked. and paige looked. and for just a second they were looking.
she couldn’t help the smile that crept on her face at azzi’s slight panic. before she looked away, azzi looked like a spooked deer with her big eyes growing even wider. she’d drank enough to still have control of her face, but she still had that gloss in her eyes. the one that made the twinkle there brighter than anything in the room.
paige was grateful to azzi for looking away because paige wasn’t confident in the fact that she would have. she didn’t offer azzi food— she didn’t offer anyone food because she didn’t want to have to ask azzi if she wanted some.
she’d promised angel she’d talk to the girl, but she didn’t fucking want to. she was mildly pissed off by the noise of the building, by the heat, and for some odd reason; by the fact that azzi didn’t get any food.
paige didn’t know why she suddenly gave a fuck about what the twenty-three year old girl from fucking indiana was or wasn’t doing, but something in her wanted to hand azzi a flat and say eat it.
she couldn’t do that, though. that was weirdo shit, especially because paige hadn’t said so much as ten words to azzi since her first day.
so she sat in her seat and watched everyone have the time of their lives.
ken, rae and the rest of the younger women were all dancing either on the couch or on the floor with the rest of club. angel was lip syncing to neesah, who was recording. kk had brought a digital camera and was snapping pictures of everything and everyone.
when she got to azzi, she spent more time on her than anyone else. azzi hadn’t hardly moved the whole night, but paige wouldn’t apply that logic because that would mean she had to look away.
azzi wasn’t turned away, but she wasn’t facing paige either. her attention was being held by kk, who was snapping pictures of her and telling her how to pose. she was looking at kk like she was a real photographer. following her every instruction like she had put all her trust in this creative genius.
over the weeks of camp, paige learned that azzi was good at that— making anyone speaking to her feel like the most important person in the world. whether it was press, coaches, teammates, media team. azzi gave them everything she had.
paige hated that she had caught on to that. she wasn’t supposed to notice small things about her rookie. but she had. she had the slight feeling that azzi wasn’t giving her much of a choice in the matter, but still. paige was supposed to have discipline.
she’d stared at azzi fudd long enough to hate herself. eventually, she told herself she was done for the night. no more drinking because apparently clear liquor made her want to do stupid shit like walk up to azzi and talk to her. made her want all of that attention for herself. made her want to feel like the most important person in the world.
as the night went on and paige declined more shots, she began to sober up. you’d have thought the alcohol leaving her system would have made her more upset because who enjoyed being sober around a bunch of drunk women?
paige. paige enjoyed it.
everyone was happy and getting along and the stress of the pre-season schedule wasn’t forcing everyone to be boring. she would do this every week if she could. she didn’t mind being the mother hen of the group if it meant the group had a good time.
she checked all of them off her list, making sure she remembered who was where and what they were doing. and when she’d mustered enough willpower to look at azzi again, she learned azzi had finally left her seat. the problem was, kk, who had remained glued to azzi all night, hadn’t.
paige looked over the entire section, trying to make sure she wasn’t tripping but no. azzi was no longer among the group. she’d wandered and she’d wandered alone.
paige’s heartbeat began to thrum in her ears as she tried to remain subtle. she turned her neck to face the club. azzi wasn’t in the line for the bathroom and as far as paige could see, she wasn’t dancing with the other girls.
but then she found her. at the bar, with all of that valuable attention being given to a man. if he was taller than azzi, it wasn’t by much and paige had dubbed him an asshole based on the fact that he had on a wife-beater and jeans in a bay area club.
she looked away because it wasn’t her damn business. her jaw was suddenly tight and her blood was pumping even harder, but it was not her business. paige felt something. something she refused to acknowledge but it kept dragging her gaze back to the bar.
every time she looked toward them (unwillingly), the man had gotten closer. at some point, a drink appeared in azzi’s hand and the man was basically staring down at her like she couldn’t bench press him if she wanted to.
“oh shit.” angel spoke, but paige never moved her eyes. “fudd’s stuck.”
azzi laughed at whatever the man said, but it wasn’t her real laugh. paige could tell because her shoulders didn’t shake.
“what?” she asked, because she wasn’t sure if angel had caught the same thing.
“she’s at the bar and that man—” angel stopped mid-sentence and began smacking paige on the shoulder. she pointed, “you never talk to her!”
paige wanted to take herself out back and end her misery. the man reached a hand out towards azzi.
she shook her head and muttered, “we’re in a club, angel.”
whatever was said after that, was lost on paige.
azzi didn’t take the man’s hand. instead, she said what looked like “no, thank you” and pointed to the section. the man looked up towards the team, and then looked back down at azzi with a smirk. he began speaking again and paige wished like hell that she could read lips.
she wanted to know exactly what was being said because she just needed reason. justification for getting up and doing something stupid.
if the man was doing what paige thought he was doing, then paige’s actions wouldn't be stupid. they could be buried under the guise of protecting her team— protecting women in general. she’d never have to explain that she wanted to get up long before azzi began to look uncomfortable.
but azzi did begin to look uncomfortable. paige was trying to let her handle it— she was minding her business. but then azzi stood up and the man didn’t step back. he stayed in her space, crowding her to the point where she lost her balance and plopped back onto the bar stool.
paige rose from her seat then, not looking at angel when she said “i’ll be right back.”
she looked away because it wasn’t her damn business. her jaw was suddenly tight and her blood was pumping even harder, but it was not her business. paige felt something. something she refused to acknowledge but it kept dragging her gaze back to the bar.
every time she looked toward them (unwillingly), the man had gotten closer. at some point, a drink appeared in azzi’s hand and the man was basically staring down at her like she couldn’t bench press him if she wanted to.
“oh shit.” angel spoke, but paige never moved her eyes. “fudd’s stuck.”
azzi laughed at whatever the man said, but it wasn’t her real laugh. paige could tell because her shoulders didn’t shake.
“what?” she asked, because she wasn’t sure if angel had caught the same thing.
“she’s at the bar and that man—” angel stopped mid-sentence and began smacking paige on the shoulder. she pointed, “you never talk to her!”
paige wanted to take herself out back and end her misery. the man reached a hand out towards azzi.
she shook her head and muttered, “we’re in a club, angel.”
whatever was said after that, was lost on paige.
azzi didn’t take the man’s hand. instead, she said what looked like “no, thank you” and pointed to the section. the man looked up towards the team, and then looked back down at azzi with a smirk. he began speaking again and paige wished like hell that she could read lips.
she wanted to know exactly what was being said because she just needed reason. justification for getting up and doing something stupid.
if the man was doing what paige thought he was doing, then paige’s actions wouldn't be stupid. they could be buried under the guise of protecting her team— protecting women in general. she’d never have to explain that she wanted to get up long before azzi began to look uncomfortable.
but azzi did begin to look uncomfortable. paige was trying to let her handle it— she was minding her business. but then azzi stood up and the man didn’t step back. he stayed in her space, crowding her to the point where she lost her balance and plopped back onto the bar stool.
paige rose from her seat then, not looking at angel when she said “i’ll be right back.”
she was basically on autopilot as she made her way to the bar. embodying the term walking walking with a purpose, every stride was long, and she felt the muscles in her calves flex with every step.
she tried to remind herself that this was to protect azzi. that she was doing this because azzi was uncomfortable and as her vet— as a woman— she was responsible for getting azzi out of her situation.
“hey.” she said, chest to shoulder with azzi. she was looking down at her side profile, and when azzi looked up at her, paige almost forgot what she’d come over for.
azzi let out a sigh at the sight of paige. whether it was a sigh of relief or a sigh of humiliation would remain unknown, but something in her lightened at the sight of that chain sparkling in the darkness.
“hi?” she squeaked out, still staring up at the older woman.
but paige wasn’t look at azzi— at least no anymore. she’d turned her head and was now staring at the man that had been talking to azzi. his name was eric or maybe derrick. azzi couldn’t really hear but she’d been smiling and nodding her way through the entire interaction.
eric/derrick had finally stopped talking, which azzi was thankful for. but he looked hurt— offended almost. maybe he was pissed about being interrupted or maybe he was pissed because paige was staring at him like he was her villain origin story.
she blinked at the man who, once again, hadn’t taken the hit. “do you mind?”
eric/derrick wagged a finger between him and azzi. “we were—”
“didn’t ask.” paige shook her head.
he pointed to azzi, who had been trying to figure out how she got here. “she didn’t ask me to go.”
i literally told i had to get back to my friends and you wouldn’t let me go.
azzi didn’t think saying that would go well for eric/derrick but she thought it. she didn’t know what to say— if she could say anything at all. paige looked mad. like she was two seconds of losing all that nonchalance and grace she was known for.
“she didn’t have to ask.” paige stepped n front of azzi now so that there was a modicum of space between her and eric/derrick. “i’m telling you.”
eric/derrick stood there, looking up at paige. the whole thing felt a bit like a pissing contest, and unsurprisingly, paige won. he left, and paige stayed in place, waiting for him to disappear in the crowd.
only when he was out of sight did she turn around.
azzi, still confused, went to speak. “you—”
paige cut her off, nodding towards their section. “i saw you try to walk away.” she shrugged like she hadn’t probably saved azzi. “gave you an out.”
“yeah.” azzi was amazed. “thanks— thank you. paige.”
paige nodded like it was truly no big deal. she was still standing over azzi, but she didn’t make azzi feel like eric/derrick did. she felt crowded, but she wasn’t complaining. this was as close as they’d been in weeks, and azzi would stay on that stool forever if it meant she could smell paige’s cologne.
“you don’t have to talk to him just ‘cause he bought you a drink.” paige cut her eyes at the cup azzi was still holding. “that doesn’t mean he deserves to be entertained by you.”
“i wasn’t— that wasn’t— ” she dropped the glass on the bar like it was on fire. the vodka cran sloshed over the edges, puddling around the bottom. “i wasn’t entertaining him.”
paige raised her brows and put her mouth in a condescending pout that azzi enjoyed more than she should have. “oh for real?”
“for real.” azzi deadpanned. she leaned forward and told herself it was so paige could hear her, and not because she wanted to smell her more. “and even if i was, how would you know?”
the club was loud and packed and the only way paige would have noticed azzi from the section was if she was lookingfor her. internally, azzi beamed at the thought of paige noticing her all the way across the building.
paige stepped back— away, really— and sat on the stool closest to her. she grabbed the vodka cran that azzi had discarded and took a sip, wincing at the taste. azzi grinned as she turned to the bar and folded her arms over it.
“i was heading over.” paige raised the glass. “needed a chaser.”
azzi was way too invested in this conversation for someone who’d been telling herself she didn’t care about who was paying attention to her. but paige was lying and it was low hanging fruit, but azzi was gonna grab it anyway.
“you haven’t used a chaser all night.”
had exposed the fact that she was paying that much attention to her, she didn’t show it.
“neither have you.” she took another sip, not making a face this time. “you drink don like it’s water.”
if azzi were of sound mind and body, she might have felt embarrassed. she’d have thought that alcoholism of any kind is nothing to be proud of and it was shameful that’d drank so much that her vet noticed.
but azzi wasn’t of sound mind nor body, and the only think she felt was pride. she rested her head on her palm, putting the weight of her upper body onto the bar.
“i wanted to seem cool in front of my vets.” she grinned. “didn’t wanna seem soft.”
“you are soft.” paige responded quickly, like it was waiting in the back of her throat.
“i’m really not.”
“you are,” she took a big drink this time. “and you not knowing that is precisely your problem.”
“well then,” azzi blinked at the harshness in paige’s tone. she wouldn’t be deterred though. “i guess i need someone to toughen me up then, huh?”
she didn’t know where she’d crossed the line from slightly drunk to motor mouth drunk, but azzi couldn’t find an ounce of regret. she actually was proud of herself for standing her ground against paige who was looking at her like she knew a secret azzi wasn’t yet aware of.
she didn’t know if this was flirting— it probably wasn’t and she’d probably be paying for this conversation for the rest of her career— but it felt like a power play. like game and azzi didn’t know the rules, but she figured she’d fucked up when paige tucked her lips into her mouth and looked at azzi like she was trying to restrain herself from an act of violence.
she snorted, shaking her head before taking another sip of azzi’s drink and facing forward. “go back to the section.”
azzi squinted and turned her whole body so that it was facing paige. she was trying not to be soft. she was trying to win without the secret and the “make me” left her mouth before she had time to fully strategize.
her eyes widened at herself, and paige’s did too. but paige didn’t seem as panicked by azzi’s words. no, she seemed… bored? paige seemed bored and that made azzi want to spontaneously combust.
she turned her head towards azzi, looking buzzed and lazy with her low eyes and pink cheeks. azzi could have stared at paige forever. she’d been in the same room with paige for weeks but tonight was different. maybe it was the alcohol, but azzi was concerningly aware of the fullness in paige’s bottom lip and the slant of her nose and the crinkles in the corners of her eyes.
paige stood up and stepped back into azzi’s space, cup still in hand. azzi tilted her head up so that she could make eye contact and Establish Her Dominance. but paige had something in her eyes that made azzi wanna jump back.
she looked azzi for several long, breathless seconds before she ran her tongue along her front teeth as she peered down at azzi. “i’m sure you’d enjoy that.”
azzi opened her mouth to say something to keep up the banter. except this didn’t feel like banter anymore. it felt like she’d lost the power play. she wasn’t even sure that this was actually happening, because the way paige was looking at her couldn’t be real.
“w-what?” she stammered, suddenly feeling like her tongue was too big for her mouth.
paige smirked at azzi’s discombobulation and took the last sip of the vodka cran and paige watched her tongue dart out to lick the rest off her lips. she felt dizzy like she was one of those people being entranced.
like with those snakes in the baskets, she thought.
paige stepped back, and azzi felt like she could breathe again. “think you’ve had enough, hm?”
azzi opened her mouth to argue, but she couldn’t because maybe paige was right. maybe she had had enough. she snapped her mouth shut and watched paige walk away like none of that happened.
azzi wanted to scream at the clusterfuck of emotion swirling within her. but she couldn’t do that. she wasn’t supposed to fucking care.
she laughed to herself because she couldn’t even believe her own lies.
of course you fucking care, you drunken idiot. how could you not?
—
paige hadn’t given azzi an instruction, but azzi listened regardless. she didn’t drink for the rest of the night and by the time the team was ready to go, the lights were no longer blurry. she was still drunk but not tell-a-hot-woman-ten years-older-than-her-to-make-her-do something drunk.
she tried not to replay their conversation. tried not to think about what it meant. tried not to obsess over that fact that that was only their second conversation.
she’d done good for the most part. paige hadn’t caught her the few times she let herself look and no one noticed her vibe switch.
outside of the club, azzi stood looking at her dead phone, waiting for kk to exit the building so she could order their uber. she pretended to be doing something, silently praying that everyone would respect the face buried in phone = don’t want to be bothered rule.
she felt someone behind her, and she knew it wasn’t kk. she was too drunk to be stealthy. azzi shut her eyes and inhaled in preparation for whatever was coming, but when she did, she smelled that smell. that cologne from earlier. or maybe it wa perfume. it was floral but it still felt strong and masculine and azzi knew exactly who it was.
“you alright?” paige asked, side stepping so that they were nearly shoulder to shoulder.
azzi let out an “mhm.” and wished that a vortex would open beneath her.
“you need a ride?”
azzi bit her tongue so hard she was scared it was going to slice in half.
this. fucking. woman.
why couldn’t she just let azzi be done for the night? why couldn’t she just take her fucking win and leave it at that?
azzi knew paige was probably just being a responsible team leader, but she was losing her drunk and she was getting a headache and she was so. damn. embarrassed. and paige was looking at her like a damsel in distress— like she was soft.
“no.” she grit out, trying and failing to sound sweet.
“but—”
“i said no.” azzi almost stomped like a fucking toddler. “why would i get in a car with you? we’ve talked like— twice.”
paige furrowed her brows like her feelings were the ones hurt. like she’d taken a hit to her ego tonight. but before she could respond, kk slung her arm around azzi’s shoulder for behind.
“you ready to go?” she was smiling and her breath smelled like tequila, but she guided azzi down the sidewalk anyway. “the uber’s gonna pull up to the baskin robins down the street so it’s not so packed.”
paige watched the rookies walk away, still speechless from azzi’s outburst. it wasn’t unjust, and paige knew that but it was still unexpected.
she knew she’d been an ass. but azzi caught her off guard and she had to retaliate. she couldn’t lose to a fucking twenty-three year old.
she hadn’t meant to make her mad, though.
azzi repeated the word no like it was the only thing she’d been born to say. with sterness and no room for argument. paige had no right to be offended, mostly because azzi was completely right. objectively speaking, azzi had no reason to want to get into a car with paige
.and she didn’t even want to give azzi a ride. it was just the nice thing to do.
but azzi told her no.
“you talked to the rook?” angel leaned into her side.
paige could have fallen to floor laughing at the question. she didn’t know what she’d call what she’d done to azzi that night, but she knew it didn’t count as talking.
“yeah.” she sighed, adjusting her chain. “i talked to the fucking rook.”
Summary: After striking a deal, Paige is determined to stay healthy and win more than just Azzi's phone number
Warnings: language, brief descriptions of injury
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a/n: here is the highly requested (demanded) part 2. i was not expecting for so many people to love this story so much. hope this lives up to your expectations!
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Paige Bueckers had never been so healthy in her life.
She had been drinking so much water her team trainers thought she might have a UTI with how often she had to pee. She wore two ankle braces, and a brace on her left wrist. Kinesiology tape wrapped both shoulders, elbows, knees, shins, and ankles, in addition to the standard knee sleeves she wore as a precaution. She even made the team trainer tape her fingers before practices and workouts. Every. Single. Finger. Just in case.
And all of her teammates noticed.
“Dude,” Maddie said suspiciously as they suited up in the longer room moments before practice was set to start, “what is going on with you? You look like a mummy with all that tape. But you’re also…glowing?”
“Thank you,” Paige replied. Deciding to ignore the mummy comment. “It’s because I’m in love.”
Her reply was far too casual, slipping out without thought before she coughed, nearly choking on her own tongue.
“–with basketball!” she quickly amended. “Obviously. With basketball. The sport. My job. I mean, all of our jobs. We’re all in love with basketball,” she tried and failed to cover up her slip.
Dijonai, who had been tying her shoes and ever so nosy, snorted. “Sure. Didn’t realize basketball had curly hair, scrubs, and a nursing degree now.”
Paige gasped dramatically, thrusting her index finger towards her vet. “You stay outta my personal business.”
“Oh, so there is personal business,” Arike chimed in, triumphant.
“No comment,” Paige grumbled.
“Uh-huh,” Maddie dragged out.
They knew. Because, of course they knew. Subtley had never been Paige’s strong suit.
But she didn’t give into her teammates, not yet. Instead, she repeated fourteen days, over and over in her head. Fourteen days. No ER. She could do it. She would do it. Paige was nothing if not competitive. She would win her into Azzi Fudd’s heart through perfect health and sheer stubbornness alone.
——
To say that she wasn’t playing like her usual self that practice would have been a drastic understatement. She played like her bones would spontaneously shatter at any given moment. She avoided any and all unnecessary contact – sometimes even necessary contact. Set screens like she was made of glass, guaranteed to break if she was merely grazed. She even passed up on open drives, electing to dish the ball to her teammates out of fear someone might simply breathe too aggressively near her.
Her coach blew his whistle so hard Paige thought he might pass out. Then worried he could potentially blow out her eardrum and slammed her hands over her ears to avoid the risk.
“Bueckers!” he bellowed, angrily calling her over. “What in the hell are you doing out there? You’ve passed up three open drives. Three. Drive the fucking lane!” he scolded her.
“And risk my body?” she guffawed. “What about my bones? My head? What about my spleen, Coach?” she argued.
He stared at her, dumbfounded. “Your what?”
“No spleen, no number. No number, no coffee,” she said quietly with a grave determination.
Her coach blinked. Once. Twice. “...Are you having a stroke?”
He looked at her again, eyes slowly dragging from her head to feet in a silent appraisal that felt very judgemental. “And why the fuck are you wearing so much tape?”
Paige opened her mouth to respond, then shut it.
The scrimmage resumed. Paige caught a long pass in transition, only one measly defender in her way. The rim taunted her. Score, or protect my body for the cause? she asked herself.
In that moment, Azzi’s smile flashed in her mind. The rare one that reached all the way up to her eyes. That had her dimples popping out.
Paige immediately passed the ball back out to Arike at the top of the key. Her coach benched her for the rest of practice.
—
An hour later, as the players slowly started making their way through their locker room post practice routines, Maddie approached Paige with an unopened gatorade, holding it out like an offering. Paige, who had been in the process of peeling away the excessive amount of KT tape from all over her body, grabbed it tentatively.
“Okay, spill,” Maddie demanded. “Who’s the nurse?”
“What nurse?” Paige asked, doing an exceptionally poor job of feigning confusion.
Maddie didn’t dignify her with a verbal response. Just pointed firmly at the whiteboard where Paige had written:
DO NOT LET PAIGE DIE FOR THE NEXT 14 DAYS
It was underlined three times, and accompanied by a #getthemdidgits written beneath a poorly drawn coffee cup.
“Uh,” Paige faltered. “Team goal?” she tried. Then doubled down, incredibly serious. “It’s important for teams to have shared goals. Builds better chemistry.”
Dijonai scoffed, obnoxiously loud. “Oh give it up. Don't try to play cool, you're not good at it,” she heckled Paige, then turned towards Maddie. “She’s in love with her ER nurse. She’s been to the hospital like a hundred times this month with made-up injuries just to get her attention.”
Paige jumped up from where she was sitting.
“Traitor!” she shouted at Dijonai, who just cackled at the blonde’s dramatics.
“Paige,” Maddie admonished. “Is that true?”
The blonde sunk back into her seat, burying her increasingly reddening face in her hands. “Ugh, fine,” she relented. “Yes, it’s true. But you don’t understand. She’s incredible. And she’s pretty much like…completely immune to my charm.” Dijonai scoffed at Paige’s relentless self-assuredness.
Paige ignored her, continuing on. “Except for these like, tiny almost-smiles she sometimes gives me that I think about like eighty seven thousand times a day,” she griped.
Maddie all but squealed with joy at seeing the state the nurse had her in. “Stop it. That’s adorable.”
“No it’s not,” Paige argued. “It’s painful, and embarrassing.”
“It’s endearing,” Maddie countered, making Paige feel marginally better.
Dijonai chimed in again, never able to resist poking fun at the blonde. “And you call yourself nonchalant. Ha!” she laughed.
“Man, fuck you,” Paige said, with no real bite to her words. It just made Dijonai laugh harder.
“Wait,” Maddie interrupted, stopping the two of them from the inevitable bickering that was about to begin. “That doesn’t explain why we have to keep you alive for two weeks, though,” she clocked. “Didn’t Nai say you’ve been faking injuries to see her? Why stop now?”
Paige groaned, giving Dijonai the stink eye. “I have not been ‘faking injuries’,” she protested. “My injuries have all been very real, thank you. They just haven’t technically been emergencies that need to be seen in a hospital. At least that’s what Azzi tells me,” she sulked.
“Azzi’s the nurse,” Dijonai supplied to Maddie, unhelpfully. Paige threw a shoe at her.
“I figured,” Maddie said patiently, trying not to smile at Paige’s expense. “Thanks though.”
Then the forward turned her attention back on Paige. “Stop getting distracted. What’s with the fourteen days thing?”
Paige sighed, long and deep. “She finally agreed to give me her number and let me take her out for coffee. But only if I can stay out of the hospital for the next two weeks.”
“I still can’t believe you wore her down,” Dijonai antagonized.
“Hey!” Paige said, obviously insulted. “I’m very charming, you asshole.”
“Please,” Dijonai began with a smirk, “you’re about as charming as my–”
“Okay,” Maddie interrupted loudly, stopping yet another round of bickering before it began. “Don’t worry, Paige. We’ll keep you alive,” she promised.
“We will?” echoed Dijonai.
“We will,” Maddie repeated firmly, raising her eyebrows at the vet, daring her to disagree.
Paige’s eyes shot back and forth between the two of them, determining just how serious they were being.
“Ugh,” Dijonai groaned. “Fine.”
Paige grinned.
“But only if you stop playing like you’re going to snap in half if someone comes within three feet of you on the court,” Dijonai brokered. “Season starts in a few weeks, can’t have you playing like you’re that fragile.”
Paige squinted her eyes, like she was deep in thought, debating the proposal. After a moment of silence, she let out a resigned sigh. “Fine. But I’m still gonna wear the KT tape.”
“You’re impossible.”
—
It had been exactly a week, and Paige had proudly remained uninjured. She had kept her promise to play hard, and Maddie and Dijonai held up their end of the deal, making sure she didn’t do anything too stupid. It had been a week straight of no injuries. And a week straight of Azzi consuming her every thought.
More often than not, Paige’s mind replayed how Azzi interacted with the little boy with the broken ankle. The smile she gave him, dimples and all, seared into her brain. But her thoughts couldn’t help but wander to the nurse’s explanation as to why she stopped playing. Couldn’t get the hint of wistfulness in her voice out of her head when Azzi told the kid she “used to play, but not anymore”.
Since she wouldn’t be seeing Azzi for fourteen whole days – which was a form of psychological torture if you asked the blonde – Paige decided to google her. It wasn’t creepy, she was just…doing research.
What she discovered was far from what she could have ever imagined, however. Azzi didn’t just play basketball. She was a prodigy. How in the fuck have I never heard of her? Paige berated herself internally. She received her first college scholarship offer when she was just twelve years old. She had broken – no, shattered – multiple shooting records across the country. Had won countless awards. Tore her ACL in high school and came back even stronger. Even received a full scholarship from UCLA. Paige was devastated to read that she only got to play for a couple months before destroying her ACL and losing her spot on the team her freshman year.
Then she found film. And watching, actually seeing Azzi play, was even more impressive than reading about her accomplishments. She had the greatest shooting form Paige had ever witnessed. Holy shit, Paige thought to herself. She doesn’t fucking miss. She was more certain than she had ever been in her life that Azzi would be shattering records in the W right beside her if UCLA hadn’t made the world's stupidest decision to let go of the greatest player she had ever seen.
After watching as many highlights as she could find – and there were a lot – Paige knew she was a goner. Not only was Azzi beautiful, kind, quick witted, intelligent, and someone who quite literally held people’s lives in her perfect hands; she was also the greatest basketball player the world would never know. She didn’t think she could fall any faster than she already had, but once again, Azzi proved her wrong without even meaning to. Without even knowing it.
She wanted to know everything about Azzi. But she wanted to hear about it from the nurse herself. So with more self control than she had exhibited in a long time, Paige forced her laptop shut.
—
Azzi Fudd prided herself on being unshakable. She could handle blood, panic, death, obnoxious late night drunks, arrogant doctors who thought they were smarter than everyone else in the room, and overconfident patients who believed they were indestructible.
One particular overconfident patient, however, was proving to be a growing problem.
It had officially been eleven days. It was the longest streak in her and Paige's entire nurse-patient relationship. And Azzi absolutely detested that she had noticed.
She was stocking up on necessary supplies for an incoming trauma patient twenty minutes out – though her mind was currently on an irritating blonde – when her coworker, Caroline, entered the room. She knocked Azzi out of her thoughts by elbowing her in the side, waggling her eyebrows.
“She’s cute,” she said.
Azzi side eyed her. “Excuse me?”
“The patient you’re currently day dreaming about?” she teased. She had known Azzi far too long, knew all of her tells. Knew when her mind was somewhere else. And in all the years she had known her, she had only seen her eyes soften in the way they did when she was around – or even just thinking about – the blonde once. Only once. So she knew she was special.
Azzi scoffed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she lied, stonefaced.
Caroline gave her a look. “The one with the stitches. And the dramatic elbow. And the imaginary concussion. And the wrist,” she listed off.
The tips of Azzi’s ears burned hot. “She’s a patient,” she said shortly.
Caroline snorted. “She’s been in more times in the last month than most people come in within ten years,” she retorted, not letting Azzi off the hook that easily.
“She’s over dramatic,” Azzi concluded, trying to shut down the conversation.
Caroline wouldn’t allow it. “Maybe,” she shrugged. “But she’s smitten.”
Azzi opened her mouth to deny it. But the argument died on her tongue. Because the truth was, Paige was not subtle about her infatuation. In fact, she was glaringly obvious.
Her golden hair, that bright, gummy smile. The way the apples of her cheeks were always so prominent around the nurse. Striking blue eyes that never failed to light up the moment Azzi walked into the room.
Azzi had noticed. And she didn’t hate it. Truth be told, deep, deep, down, Azzi kind of loved it. But that was the problem. She didn’t want to. Couldn’t afford to.
“She’s reckless,” Azzi said sharply. “Self-destructive. And maybe even a little bit stupid.”
Caroline grinned. “Yeah. Stupid for you.”
Azzi just scoffed. She turned back to her supplies, doing a remarkably good job of pretending her heart rate hadn’t grown tachycardic at the mere mention of Paige. “It’s complicated,” was all she could say.
“No,” Caroline said plainly. “It’s really not.”
Azzi absolutely refused to think about how Paige’s flirting had started feeling less irritating, and more…addictive.
Focus. She told herself. She had to stay focused on her work. A career she cared about – one that saved her from the overwhelming disappointment of a future she had lost. A heart she kept locked up tight.
The problem was, Paige was persistent. Annoyingly so. She didn’t know when to quit. Kept pushing, kept showing up. And instead of that tenacity driving her further away like it normally would, she somehow found it endearing.
She’s not exactly sure when the flip switched. Initially, when the triage nurse told her she needed to stitch up Paige Bueckers, she had begged her to assign her to someone else. She knew who she was. Everyone did, you couldn’t drive more than two blocks in downtown Dallas without seeing her face plastered on a billboard.
She’d seen her in commercials, unwillingly seen clips of the woman on her social media feeds. Azzi had assumed the blonde would be arrogant and big headed. She wasn't necessarily wrong. But...she was also so much more.
She was annoying, relentless, and far too confident for her own good. But she was unapologetically herself. She was kind and goofy. Charming in an irritatingly endearing way. And she had a good heart. She saw it in the way she interacted with everyone she spoke to, treating her coworkers with respect and intention.
But she especially saw it with the boy with the broken ankle. The boy who spent the rest of his time in the ER bragging to Azzi that “the Paige Bueckers” signed his ankle, lighting up when he described how she told him he could go pro if he worked hard enough.
She shook her head, physically trying to shake Paige Bueckers out of her mind. Annoyed with herself for how frequently the blonde had managed to take up residency in her thoughts as of late.
She had a job to do. She needed to focus. She couldn’t afford any distractions. And that’s exactly what Paige was; nothing but a distraction.
—
Meanwhile, just a few blocks away, Paige had been sat on Dijonai’s couch, in the seat furthest from the sharp corner of her coffee table. Paige wasn’t taking any risks this close to reaching her goal. The vet had forced the blonde to come over for dinner and hang out.
It took far too much convincing on Dijonai’s part, having to guarantee Paige there would be no immediate threats to her life. Telling her she wouldn’t allow the blonde to spend the next three days hiding out in her apartment to avoid any trips to the hospital.
They were in the middle of a movie Dijonai had picked out, against Paige’s wishes, when the older woman suddenly hit pause.
“Bro, why’d you stop it,” Paige complained. “It was finally starting to get good.”
“Oh please,” Dijonai started. “It’s been good the whole time. Stop pretending you don’t like it.” She rolled her eyes. “But I want ice cream.”
“Bro, you have like seven thousand different tubs in the freezer. Just go pick one,” Paige sassed.
“No.” Dijonai said. “I want good ice cream. Let’s go to that new place that opened. It’s close, like a ten minute walk.”
“Are you crazy?” Paige asked, appalled. “Do you realize how dangerous that could be? I swear, it’s like you’re trying to get me killed.”
Dijonai had already stood up, looking for where she had kicked off her shoes when they first came in. “Paige, I can’t deal with your bullshit tonight. Stop being so dramatic.”
Paige scoffed, offended. “I am not being dramatic. I’m being careful. I’m three days away. Can’t risk it. ‘S just not safe.”
Paige felt one of her own shoes smack against the back of her head. She whipped to face her vet, expression one of horror. “NAI!” she yelled. “You coulda concussed me!”
“Paige,” Dijonai said sternly, entirely fed up. “Put your shoes on.”
“Fine,” Paige relented. “But if something happens to me, I will haunt you.”
Paige threw on her hoodie before reaching for the shoes Dijonai had so conveniently (and dangerously) thrown at her. She tied her laces in triple knots. Just to be safe, she told herself. Can’t take any unnecessary risks. She followed Dijonai out the front door, making sure to carefully watch her step as she moved, wary of any potential tripping hazards.
As they made their way towards the elevator, Paige broke off to the left, making a bee line for the stairwell.
“Where are you going?” Dijonai asked.
“To the stairs,” Paige said slowly, like she was talking to a child.
“I live on the ninth floor.” She looked like she’d had just about enough of the blonde.
“Exactly,” Paige said. “A nine floor drop from an elevator would be deadly.”
“Oh you’ve got to be– “ Dijonai started, before interrupting herself. “You know what? I don’t care.” There was a ding and the elevator doors started to open. “I’ll meet you down there.”
“Bet,” Paige said, as she made her way to the stairwell. She began her descent. Very slowly, very cautiously.
When she finally exited the stairwell on the first floor, Dijonai had probably been waiting for at least ten minutes. She was less than thrilled to see Paige’s unhurried steps towards where she was waiting near the front of the building.
“About damn time,” she muttered.
“Hey!” Paige admonished. “You should be grateful I’m putting myself in this much danger just so you can get ice cream.”
As they headed towards the exit, Paige reached for her phone in her back pocket, muttering a curse when she realized it wasn’t there.
“Dammit. I left my phone upstairs,” she told the vet.
“Paige,” Dijonai leveled her with an annoyed look.
“Hold up, I'll be right back,” she turned back for the stairwell.
Dijonai grabbed her arm before she could take another step. “Absolutely not. I’m not waiting down here for thirty minutes while you crawl up nine flights of stairs. Just get it when we come back.” she told her.
“Bro, I need my phone,” Paige said desperately.
“God, you’re irritating,” Dijonai groaned. “Fine. I’ll go get it then. You just…stay here.” She turned on her heel, pressing the button to call the elevator rather aggressively.
Dijonai had been gone for a total of about thirty seconds before Paige got bored and decided to wait for the older girl outside. As she stepped out of the entrance doors, she immediately collided with another body.
She was barely even knocked off balance, but Paige overreacted, panic flooding through her system sending her arms flailing and body staggering. She swore her life flash before her eyes. Her last coherent thought being, this is all Nai’s fault. I am 100% going to haunt her.
Then she felt two firm hands at her waist, steadying her. A familiar, dizzying scent overwhelming her senses. She looked up.
Azzi. In scrubs and a crewneck that read “emergency department” in a funky font across the front.
“Whoa. Easy, Bambi,” she said, in that soft raspy voice that had been haunting Paige since she first heard it.
Paige’s mind went blank. Unable to form a single thought, let alone coherent sentence.
“You– I– what– how–,” Azzi removed her hands from Paige as the blonde struggled to form a sentence, instantly missing the feeling of the nurse’s hands on her.
“I was getting coffee,” Azzi said simply.
Paige’s face lit up in a shit eating grin, sense slowly coming back to her. “Without me?”
Azzi shook her head, trying hard not to smile. “I’m on break. And you don’t have coffee privileges yet. You haven’t met our deal.”
Paige puffed up proudly, a chest jutting out. “I’m injury free. Haven’t busted anything in eleven whole days.”
“Miraculous,” Azzi deadpanned.
Paige smirked, goofy and crooked. “You could kiss me as a reward.”
Azzi’s eyes flicked to Paige’s lips. Just for a second. Just enough to ruin Paige’s life and set her heart racing beneath her chest.
“We said coffee,” Azzi replied, voice too soft to be purely professional.
“Yeah…but coffee can lead to–”
“Paige,” Azzi warned. It was a fond warning, but a warning none the less.
Paige opened her mouth to respond, but was interrupted by the sound of the elevator dinging, announcing its arrival. Dijonai stepped out, already talking to the back of Paige’s head from where she stood in the doorway.
“I don’t get how stairs are safer than the elevator. You’re way more likely to trip down a flight of stairs than die in an elevator, idiot,” she said, irritated at having had to go back up.
Paige turned to her, eyebrows furrowed, arms crossed, ready to argue as Dijonai crossed the lobby to make her way over. “I can control my own steps. I can’t control an elevator if the cable snaps. Or if there’s a fire and we’re caught inside. Or if–”
Dijonai shoved her in the face with her hand, shutting her up.
“Bro, careful! You coulda broke my nose,” she admonished, violently ripping her head back.
“Paige, I swear to god, I am this close to putting you in the hospital mysel–” she cut herself off, noticing Azzi watching the interaction with an amused look on her face.
Dijonai looked her up and down, then grinned. Recognition flickering in her eyes.
“No way,” she started. “Are you the nurse Paige is obsessed with?” she delighted. Paige swatted her in the chest with the back of her hand, eyes wide.
Paige quickly turned to Azzi. “I’m– I’m not obsessed. She’s exaggerating,” Paige tried to deny.
“I’m not exaggerating,” Dijonai said. She handed Paige her phone before sticking her hand out toward Azzi. “I’m Dijonai. Paige’s teammate slash babysitter. You’ve made her an even bigger pain in the ass than she normally is,” she said.
The nurse shook her hand. “Azzi,” she said. “Nice to meet you.”
But the thing that sent Paige all out of whack was the fact that Dijonai received a smile. And she didn’t even have to earn it.
“What the...?” Paige mused out loud in utter shock, resulting in both women turning their attention to the blonde, the smile gone from Azzi’s face, as they waited for her to explain her little outburst.
Paige's eyes darted between the two of them several times in quick succession, head moving along with her eyes like she was watching a tennis match, before they settled on Azzi.
“You smiled at her,” she said, indignant.
“Dude,” Dijonai said resigned, looking at her teammate like she was an idiot.
“Nah, you be quiet,” she said to Dijonai, glaring at her for a less than a second before her attention returned to Azzi. “I gotta work so hard to get even the tiniest smile from you. And she gets one just like that?” She was basically whining. “That’s so unfair.”
Azzi just shrugged, unperturbed. “She seems less annoying.”
Dijonai barked out a laugh, not expecting Azzi’s swift, unbothered response. Despite the blonde having told her vet about the nurse's quick mouth on many occasions. Paige supposed that witnessing it in person was different.
Paige just scoffed, speechless, a small pout forming on her lips. And even though Azzi may not have been smiling at Paige directly, her eyes were shining with amusement as she watched the blonde’s reaction.
The three women chatted for a few moments. Azzi was somehow even more charming outside of the hospital. And Dijonai had apparently made it her life's mission to embarrass the blonde. Going so far as to inform the nurse that the training staff had to double their KT tape purchase order this month. She even tried to show Azzi a picture, but Paige smacked Dijonai’s arm away before she could pull one up.
An alarm went off on Azzi’s phone, effectively pulling her out of the moment.
“I have to get back to work,” she said. She turned to Dijonai first, a small, but sincere smile on her face. “It was nice to meet you.”
Then she turned to Paige, smile vanishing in an instant. “Paige,” she said with a curt nod, eyes alight. And with that she began making her way down the crowded street.
“Damn,” Dijonai said, eyes wide. “I get it now. She’s hot.”
Paige just sighed in awe, watching her until she was out of sight.
“I know,” Paige finally breathed out.
—
Thirteen days.
Paige had officially gone thirteen days with no injuries, no necessary (or unnecessary) trips to the emergency room. Thirteen days with absolutely zero medical drama.
It was honestly a miracle, and Paige was on top of the world.
She had less than twenty four hours left of perfect health and she would earn that number. Earn that coffee. Earn Azzi’s smile. Earn whatever this thing between them was becoming. In Paige’s mind, she only had to make it twenty four hours before she had the last first date of her life. Convinced Azzi was it for her.
She only needed to make it one. more. day. She would make it one more day. She was sure of it. And Paige was never wrong.
Practice was light. A few new practice players had been brought on to the team, and the coaching staff wanted to make sure they were settled and comfortable within the system before they went hard. So practice consisted of film review and a light scrimmage. Nothing that would jeopardize Paige reaching her goal.
But life seemed to have a twisted sense of humor.
Late in the scrimmage, one of the new practice players panicked. He was young and over eager to prove himself. Figured locking down Paige Bueckers would do just that. It wasn’t intentional by any means. A clumsy elbow. A mistimed step. A tangle of limbs. And then–
Paige hit the court. Hard.
Her head ricocheted against the hardwood with a sickening thud. The sound reverberated against the walls of the gym.
Everything went white.
When she opened her eyes again, the gym wouldn’t stop spinning. All Paige could feel was a ringing in her ears, and something warm spilling from her head down past her eye, pooling beneath her cheek and the floor as she fought to keep her eyes open.
She vaguely registered the sound of someone shouting her name. The way they had called it sounded panicked, edged with terror. But it echoed, the sound coming in and out.
“Paige! Hey– Paige!”
Dijonai was hovering over her as she knelt by her side, eyes wide and filled with fear. The team trainer was shouting instructions she couldn’t quite process.
Paige tried to speak, but the words came out slurred and strenuous. Entirely incoherent. She wanted to tell her teammates I’m fine. DO NOT TAKE ME TO THE HOSPITAL. I can't break the deal. But she couldn’t get the words to come out no matter how hard she tried.
Instead, her vision blurred. Darkness creeping in from the edges until everything went black.
No more jokes.
No more pretending.
This one was real.
—
Azzi had been slammed since she walked in through the doors at the start of her shift. Back-to-back traumas, multiple STEMI’s, and two stroke codes. She was steady through them all. Never wavering. She had always been that way. Found calm in the chaos. Where everyone else panicked, she felt herself focus. It was what made her so good at her job.
But when the sliding doors of the ambulance bay burst open, and she heard the name Bueckers leave the paramedic’s mouth, her heart stopped beating in her chest.
She turned and saw the gurney. Saw the familiar blonde hair. Saw the dried blood extending from the edge of Paige’s hairline down a pale cheek. C-collar wrapped stiffly around her neck.
Then she saw that Paige was unconscious. Those normally bright blue eyes hidden beneath dark lashes.
And for the first time in her career, Azzi’s hands shook.
She forced her voice to come out steady. “I’ve got her. Trauma bay two.”
The other nurses exchanged glances. Azzi never volunteered. For anyone. Especially not this close to the end of her shift.
She followed alongside the stretcher as they made their way to the room, eyes never leaving Paige’s motionless body as the paramedics relayed the handoff report.
Something about a fall, a brief loss of consciousness, possible LOC again en route. A two-and-a-half centimeter laceration above the right temple with moderate bleeding. Controlled with direct pressure. No obvious skull deformity. Vitals stable en route.
The paramedics had made sure to mention that they were not responsible for the copious amounts of KT tape covering almost the entirety of her arms and legs before they left. Something that would have made her laugh under any other circumstance.
But Azzi barely processed the words. Because Paige’s chest rose in small, uneven breaths and her lips moved like she was trying to speak in her sleep.
As soon as the paramedics transferred her to the hospital gurney, Azzi rushed to her bedside, leaning close enough to smell a mix of sweat, blood, and something uniquely Paige.
“Paige. Hey. Paige, open your eyes.” When she got no response she repeated herself, bringing her hand between the girls shoulder and neck to perform a trap squeeze as she spoke.
Paige flinched, then let out a weak groan. “Ow,” she murmured. “Quit it.”
Her blue eyes fluttered halfway open, disoriented and glossy. It took a moment for her eyes to focus. But once they did, and they registered Azzi in front of her, a small, droopy smile made its way to her face.
“There you are,” Azzi breathed.
“Hi,” she whispered, dazed. The smile fell away the second she realized where she was. A look of pure panic washing over her features. “No,” she said, shaking her head for only a second before she realized just how painful the motion was.
“No,” she repeated again, her tone filled with dread. “Fuck. Fuck! I– I didn’t mean to. I–”
Azzi cut her off. “We’re going to run some tests, okay? I need you to stay awake.”
The nurse brought a hand up to Paige’s face, gently cupping her cheek to steady her head. Her thumb subconsciously stroking the skin there as she shined a penlight into her eyes. She felt Paige lean into the touch. It was subtle, but Azzi didn’t miss it.
Paige had tried to stay still. To be a good patient, be cooperative. But the feeling of Azzi’s fingers on her skin sent sparks through her own, traveling directly to her heart.
And the monitor betrayed her instantly.
Beep. Beep-beep. Beep-beep-beep.
Azzi froze.
Her eyes flicked to the monitor, then back to Paige’s flushed cheeks.
“...Seriously?” she asked, dumbfounded.
Paige just blinked at her, dazed. “What?”
Azzi swallowed. Lips twitching as if she were fighting a smile. An undeniable hint of amusement in her eyes as her tone slipped into something dangerously close to fond.
“Your heart rate just shot up over twenty points the second I touched you,” she chastised.
Paige’s eyes widened. “No it didn’t,” she denied, agonistic even in her current state.
Azzi arched an eyebrow. “You were at sixty-eight resting. Now you’re at ninety-four," she said flatly. “So yes. It did.”
Paige made a strangled noise in the back of her throat. “That…that’s because I’m concussed.”
“Mhm,” Azzi said, wearing a small smirk. “I’m sure that’s all it is.”
Paige attempted to shoot a glare at the nurse, but it came out more like a pout.
“You’re cute when you blush,” she murmured before she could stop herself.
The monitor beeped even faster.
Azzi continued on with her exam. “I’m ignoring that.”
—
Paige had no idea how long it had been since she had opened her eyes to see Azzi’s worried face looking down at her. All she knew was that everything hurt, she couldn’t move her neck due to some incredibly uncomfortable contraption forcing her head straight and up. A contraption she complained about and tried to pry off, but Azzi told her she needed to keep on until a CT scan confirmed she was okay enough to remove it.
If Paige wasn’t used to so much attention, she would have been incredibly overstimulated. It reminded her of what happens between takes of a photo shoot. Everyone focused on their own tasks, working symbiotically alongside each other. There was a team of nurses in different colored scrubs running multiple tests on her simultaneously, taking turns to give her instructions and ask her questions.
Through it all, Paige’s eyes followed Azzi. She looked as calm and focused as ever, but there was something buried beneath the mask. It took Paige a moment to figure out what it was, but once she did, she couldn’t let it go.
At first the blonde thought she was imagining it, that it was something her concussion was falsely creating in her mind. But she wasn’t. Azzi was scared. Paige could see it in the way her breath shook slightly when she exhaled. Could see the trace of terror in her eyes, as they constantly darted back to Paige, as if she needed the reassurance that the blonde was still here and breathing.
Paige was desperate to explain herself, to convince the nurse that this shouldn’t count. That her admission tonight shouldn’t void their agreement. To try and broker a new deal. But there were too many people around, too much going on. And if she was being completely honest with herself, she was scared of the answer she was going to get.
The doctor walked in, but before Azzi could relay the information she and her team had collected, he looked Paige up and down, a frown of confusion gracing his tired features.
“Why are you covered in so much tape?” he questioned his patient, suspiciously.
Paige grimaced, voice coming out gravely from disuse. “I was tryna be…precautios. Y’know, avoid injury,” she explained.
“How’d that work out for you?” he asked, with a smile bordering a smirk. He must’ve trained Azzi, Paige thought to herself. Either that or there’s a sarcasm prerequisite to work here.
Paige, always ready to rise to the challenge, snarked back, though it came out somewhat slurred and tired. “I’mean everything wrapped s’fine. Maybe if my head was too… I wouldn’t be here,” she tried to sneer, but the motion hurt.
The doctor let out a small, but hearty laugh. “I like you. You’ve got some fire in you.”
Paige smirked, small and weak. But proud of herself none the less.
He turned to Azzi. “So what’s the story?”
Azzi filled him in. She was in full nurse mode, and Paige could do nothing but watch in awe. The way she rattled off what happened, her symptoms, her vitals. Something she called an GCS score that was fluctuating between 12 and 14.
The word “score” had Paige’s ears perking up, suddenly feeling that familiar sense of competitiveness. She made a mental note to ask Azzi what the score was out of later, just to be sure she was at the top of it.
The doctor filled Paige in on what would happen next. Letting her know what she needed to get a CT scan to rule out any potential bleeding, fractures, or other concerns.
He left with a goodbye, letting her know he’d be back to read the results of the scan when they came in. But before he took the final step out the door, he turned towards the remaining nurses. “And someone peel that ridiculous tape off of her.”
—
Azzi walked beside the gurney as transport wheeled Paige towards CT. One of her hands was loosely wrapped around the side rail. Not quite touching the blonde, but close enough that she could if she needed to. Or wanted to.
Her face was the epitome of calm, controlled, and professional. Perfectly practiced neutrality.
Paige was more alert now, tracking the movements around her. Though her eyelids felt heavy and her words still slurred slightly. Her right temple was now bandaged, blood matted into her hair.
The monitor attached to the stretcher beeped softly. Paige didn’t understand what most of the numbers and waveforms on the screen meant. The only thing she recognized was HR. So she focused on that. 72, she said to herself. Not bad. I bet I could raise it. She took a few quick breaths trying to get the number up. When she looked again, she had gotten it up to 78, and smiled proudly to herself before it settled again.
Until Azzi stepped closer.
Then. Beep-beep-beep-102.
Paige blinked up at her, a mix of surprise and reverence overtook her face. “You’re…still here.”
Azzi opened her mouth to speak, then quickly shut it, swallowing whatever she was initially going to say. “I’m making sure you don’t fall off the bed. Apparently you can’t be trusted to stay upright on your own.”
Paige gave a tired smile. The monitor ticked upwards again, now reading 106.
Azzi’s eyebrows knit, a small line forming between them as she studied the screen in front of her. “Your heart rate’s elevated again.”
“Yeah well…” Paige’s gaze drifted subconsciously to Azzi’s hand perched on the rail. “‘S kinda your fault.” Her voice trailed off at the end, eyes fluttering shut against their weight.
“Paige.” Azzi leaned in. “I need you to stay awake for me. Open your eyes.”
Paige forced them open, slow and heavy, lifting them to meet Azzi’s brown that are filled with unbridled concern. The monitor responds like it’s wired directly to Azzi’s voice: 114.
Azzi looks from the monitor back to Paige, and her typically sharp features shift into something…softer. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?” she chastises gently. But it’s not annoyed. Not tonight.
After a series of twists and turns through hospital hallways that all look the same - Paige was sure she’d get lost if she left there on her own - they reach CT.
The technician stepped forward, reaching for Paige’s bed in the exact spot Azzi was holding. “We’ll take her from here.”
She felt Azzi stiffen, not letting go. Before Paige could protest the mere thought of no longer being in Azzi’s presence, Azzi beat her to it.
“I’m coming in with her.”
The way she’d said it left no room for the tech to object. It wasn’t a question. She was merely informing him of a decision she had already made. Paige would have been a little intimidated if she wasn’t so relieved that it seemed Azzi wasn’t eager to leave her side either.
The CT room was cold and nearly echoed with the sound of machines humming. There was a large circular machine in the center of the room with a table that went straight through the middle. The blonde tried not to shiver.
As they gently transferred Paige onto the table, she flinched, wincing at the movement. One of Azzi’s warm, careful hands immediately came up to her shoulder to steady her.
“Easy, Paige. You’re okay, just relax,” she cooed.
Beep-beep-beep-118.
The tech glanced at the monitor before looking at Azzi, an edge of concern in his wide eyes. “Uh…should I be worried?”
Azzi answers without taking her eyes off of Paige. Her thumb brushing just once against the back of Paige’s shoulder.
“No. She’s just…reactive.” It came out softer than she had probably intended.
Paige manages a hoarse whisper just loud enough for only Azzi to hear. “‘M only reactive…to you.” Her eyes are only half open, but still trace the features of Azzi’s face like she’s trying to sear it into her memory.
Azzi freezes. Her hands still. Her breath catches. And Paige hears it. A sharp, quick intake of breath that nearly echoed in the quiet of the room.
And the monitor goes absolutely wild: 128.
Azzi exhales shakily. “Paige, you need to calm down.”
“Can’t,” Paige murmured. “You’re right there.”
Azzi attempts to regain some semblance of professionalism and fails miserably. Her voice coming out soft. “Listen to me; take a deep breath. In,” she paused. “Now out. Good.” She coached Paige through a few more breaths, heart rate coming down. “The faster we finish this scan, the faster we can get you treated and resting. So I need you to hold still, okay? I know that’s hard for you, but no moving. Understand?”
Paige nodded weakly, but her gaze drifted to Azzi’s fingers still resting on her. Like she was memorizing the feeling.
Azzi leans closer, her lips inches away from Paige’s ear. Voice a whisper meant only for the blonde to hear.
“Good girl.”
The monitor explodes.
BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-148. Alarms start to chirp as lights flash on the screen.
The CT tech startles out of whatever he was prepping from the control room. “Whoa! What the hell–”
Paige’s eyes go wide, face flushing despite the pallor of her skin. “Azzi!”
Azzi jerks back instantly, cheeks burning. “Jesus, Paige!” she scolds. “Breathe. Deep breathes. What are you–”
Paige cuts her off, mortified as she squeaks out, “You can’t– you can’t say things like that to me– not here–”
Azzi slaps a hand over her own mouth, a strangled mix of horror and laughter escaping behind it. She’s never been so close to losing her composure on shift.
“Bueckers,” Azzi whispers harshly, voice minutely trembling. “Get it together.”
Paige smiles lazily, face still flushed. “You first.”
Azzi curses under her breath. And then gently, as though she couldn’t help herself, she squeezes Paige’s hand.
The monitor jumps again, but not as drastic. Steadier this time.
The quiet in the space between them is soft. Paige swears Azzi can feel it too.
The CT tech clears his throat. Loudly. “We ready?” he asks the two, unamused.
Azzi steps back, cheeks faintly dusted with a light pink. “Yes. Sorry. Go ahead.”
She moves behind the large protective window of the control room. But her eyes never leave Paige. Not even for a second.
—
By the time Paige was transferred back into her room, she was exhausted. She had to fight to keep her eyes open, making a formidable effort to pay attention to what the doctor was telling her. Despite the fact that his voice sounded further and further away the more he droned on.
But Paige got the gist of it. The CT scan was clear – no bleeding, swelling, or fractures. She was lucky it wasn’t worse. Would be spending the night for observation, just in case. Something about monitoring symptoms and making sure she was on an upward trend.
Her eyes kept drifting to Azzi, beyond her control. Every time Azzi caught her from where she typed away in the corner, she would send her a subtle glare. Mouthing at her to “pay attention”.
It wasn’t until the doctor started to explain what her recovery timeline would look like that she actually gave him her full attention. The words “limited activity” snapping her mind out of its Azzi induced haze.
“But once I’m outta here, I don’t gotta do all that, right?”
“Wrong,” Azzi supplied. Paige shot her a dirty look, turning to the doctor, hoping he’d be easier to convince than the hard headed nurse.
“Doc,” she started. “I’ve had concussions before. I just gotta be more careful than normal. Ease back into practices. But I can still do other stuff, right?”
“As I was explaining, once you’re stable and your symptoms are improving, we’ll send you home with someone who can stay with you the first day. For the next 24-48 hours, you’ll need a lot of rest. Both physical and mental. That means simple cognitive tasks, no practice, no workouts, and limited screen time. Just let your brain settle,” he explained patiently.
“Okay…” Paige started slowly, eyes narrowing at the doctor standing in front of her bed. “But the simple cognitive task of say…a coffee date. That’d be okay, right?”
Azzi let out a sound from where she was charting, a mix between a squawk and a scoff of disbelief. The doctor glanced at her briefly before returning his attention to Paige, taking a deep breath before answering his evidently stubborn patient.
“Your brain needs rest. Low stimulation. That means no intense conversation, no bright lights. No dates. At least for the first few days.”
Paige opened her mouth to argue, but the doctor continued explaining what the rest of her recovery timeline would look like, effectively silencing the blonde. She barely paid attention. The team doctors would put her on their own strict schedule, no doubt.
By the time the doctor finally left, Paige was drained, in pain, and in a foul mood at the news the physician had given her. Azzi remained quiet, charting away on the computer attached to the wall as the blonde slowly lost the battle to keep her eyes open.
—
She was stirred awake what couldn't have been more than twenty minutes later by the sensation of something warm and damp swiping gently against her cheek, the rhythmic beeping of the monitor ever-present. Her eyes fluttered open to find Azzi perched at the side of her bed, a stack of moistened gauze in her gloved hands. It was just the two of them left in the room now. Alone for the first time in almost two weeks. The beeping quickened.
Azzi’s eyes flicked up, startled. Then they softened, understanding flickering beneath them. She continued to work wordlessly. Hands steady, and purposeful in their soft movements as she finished cleaning the dried blood off of Paige’s soft, pale cheek.
Sure, the nurse had taken care of her before. But never like this. Like she was something delicate and precious. Like she was someone who truly mattered to Azzi. Who deserved the utmost care and reverence. It made Paige’s breathing pick up, chest rising and falling with quick, shallow puffs.
Azzi noticed. Because…of course she did. She threw the soiled gauze into the trash, followed by her gloves, before returning to her seat beside Paige’s bed. Blue eyes tracked every movement.
The nurse hesitated. Then slowly, deliberately slid her fingers between Paige’s.
The monitor climbed another five beats.
Paige groaned. “‘S this thing gonna snitch on me the whole time?”
Azzi’s answering smile was so soft it was barely visible. “It’s doing a pretty good job so far.”
Paige squeezed her hand, weakly. She took a deep breath to steady herself, to prepare for what she is going to say next. She’d even practiced what she was going to say to the nurse during her CT scan.
“Are you mad at me?” she blurts out, instead.
Azzi scoffs, incredulous. “Mad at you? I’m not mad, Paige. I was– I was terrified. Do you even realize how serious that could have been? How fucking lucky you are that you’re walking away from this with nothing but a concussion? You could have died Paige. Do you understand that? You walk around acting like–”
She cut herself off, noticing the grin steadily growing across the blonde’s face.
“Why are you smiling right now? What about this is funny to you?” she accuses. She moves to pull her hand out of Paige’s grasp, but the blonde tightens her grip, refusing to let her go.
“You care about me,” she states, like it’s a fact. Like she wouldn’t believe Azzi even if she tried to deny it.
Azzi inhaled sharply. The kind of breath that someone takes when their heart stumbles. Her exhale is shaky and wet. Tears welling in her big, dark eyes before she quickly averts her gaze from the blonde.
Paige sobered instantly. “I’m sorry,” she said. When Azzi wouldn’t meet her eyes, she squeezed the hand still tightly grasped in her own. “Azzi,” she waited until their gazes connected before she continued. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to break the streak.”
Azzi pressed her lips together, as if she could physically stop them from quivering. “I don’t care about the stupid streak, Paige!” It was the most emotion Paige had ever heard out of the nurse. It left the blonde with her mouth half-parted in stupid shock before Azzi continued. “I care about– I just– You scared me.”
“I didn’t mean to,” Paige whispered, scared to shatter the moment. To break the nurse. “But I’m okay, Az. I promise. ‘S just a lil’ bump on the head.”
Azzi sniffed, trying to force her mask of casual indifference back on. She was unsuccessful, but Paige didn’t call her out. “You’re lucky you have such a thick skull.”
Paige’s thumb gently traced the edge of Azzi’s palm. Her lips pulled into a small smirk. “Gotta have a thick skull to protect my big brain,” she countered.
“Just because you have a big head does not mean you have a big brain.” Azzi didn’t hesitate. And Paige smiled at the return of her snarky nurse, despite the fact that the snark was currently aimed at her intelligence.
“Hey!” Paige protested, if only to see the nurse’s lips twitch upwards at her feigned offense. “Well…do me and my big head still get your number and that coffee date?” she asked, eyes brimming with tentative hope.
Azzi thought about it, face scrunching in concentration. “I mean, technically, you didn’t actually–”
“Azziiii,” Paige whined.
Azzi laughed. Quiet and soft and a little bit wet. “Fine,” she relented with a roll of her eyes. “Yes, Paige. You win.”
Paige was about to celebrate in a very uncool, uncalm way, before Azzi’s next words made her pout.
“No date coffee though. Not yet.”
“What? Why not?” Paige started, trying to sit up on the narrow hospital bed. She argued better when she was upright.
“You heard the doctor. You need to take it easy for a little while,” she told Paige gently.
“I think we should discuss it more in a little bit. When my head stops pounding, and I can make better rebuttals to your dumb rules.”
“They’re not dumb, they’re medical protocols.”
“Whatever,” Paige mumbled, eyes heavy, voice coming out mumbled from exhaustion. “You’re just lucky you're pretty.”
Azzi looked at their hands to try and stave off the blush at Paige’s concussed compliments. Looked at how naturally they seemed to fit together. Her thumb brushed the back of Paige’s knuckles, slow and trembling.
Every time she touched her, the monitor made it known.
Beep-beep-beep.
Paige’s cheeks warmed, and she let out a loud, overexaggerated groan. “I hate that you can literally hear how much I like you.” Her voice was laced with sleep, but still filled with admiration.
Azzi shook her head, expression aching. “I don’t,” she whispered, nearly inaudible.
She didn’t let go of Paige’s hand until long after the blonde slipped into unconsciousness.
—
After a few hours and several more checkups, Paige was being moved up a couple of floors to spend the night in the ICU. Something the blonde vehemently protested against after learning Azzi would no longer be her acting nurse.
“I need to stay here.” she told Azzi, tone the embodiment of seriousness. “What if something goes wrong?”
“The nurses in the ICU are more than capable of looking after you,” the nurse responded, unmoved by her excuses.
“But you’re the most capable. And I need–“
“Paige, I’m going home. My shift ended hours ago,” she interrupted. “I wouldn’t be your nurse even if you stayed in the ED.”
“But what about– wait. It did?” she asked. She hadn’t thought about the time once since she was admitted. Too enraptured by all things Azzi. Did she really stay just for me? She asked herself. Fuck, she’s way too good for me. I think I’d spend the rest of my life in here if it means I’d get to spend it with her.
“Yes. Now stop complaining,” she ordered. “Let them take you. I have to be back here in like nine hours. I need to get some sleep. And so do you.”
Her tone left no room for argument. But Paige needed to make sure she’d see her again as soon as possible. “Will you come visit me up there tomorrow?”
“I might. If you stop throwing a tantrum and let them move you upstairs right now.”
“Okay,” she relented, defeat weighing her shoulders down. Then she perked up. “Kiss goodbye?”
Azzi rolled her eyes, but Paige didn’t miss the way her eyes darted quickly to her lips or the subtle dusting of pink that formed across her cheekbones. She rolled her eyes and gave the blonde’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Goodnight Paige. Get some sleep.”
When Azzi left, Paige heard her tell the nurses waiting outside her room to try again. They were shocked to say the least by the blonde’s sudden willingness to cooperate.
—
It was safe to say Paige was not a fan of the ICU. Or more accurately, she was not a fan of her new nurse. She had grown much too accustomed to all things Azzi, and he was a far cry from the beautiful curly haired nurse she adored.
He didn’t smell, sound, or look nearly as good as Azzi did. And he was constantly checking on her. Like every single hour. He’d come in and run tests, ask her the same stupid questions, stab her and poke her and steal her blood.
But her results kept improving, and she wouldn’t have to stay a full twenty four hours. She would be free to leave soon enough. At least that’s what the non-Azzi nurse told her after her last complaint.
Truth be told, if it were Azzi doing all of those things, she wouldn’t have minded. In fact, she would have reveled in the attention. But it wasn’t Azzi, and Paige was not enjoying that fact.
On the bright side, Azzi finally gave Paige her number. Told her it was for “emergencies only Paige, I’m serious. You’re not supposed to be using screens”. And Paige had agreed. It wasn’t Paige’s fault that they had very different definitions of what constituted an emergency.
7:03pm – Paige:
Yo
7:03pm – Paige:
U sure u can’t be my nurse?
After no response for almost ten minutes. Paige deemed it necessary to text again.
7:11pm – Paige:
My new nurse sucks
7:12pm – Paige:
His scrubs might be even tighter than urs
7:14pm – Paige:
But u look good in yours
7:15pm – Paige:
He makes scrubs look kinda gross
7:19pm – Paige:
Lowkey it might just be saran wrap he painted to look like scrubs
7:22pm – Paige:
Stop ignoring me
7:23pm – Azzi:
I’m not ignoring you. I’m working
7:24pm – Azzi:
And you're not supposed to be on your phone. You’re sensitive to light right now
7:24pm – Paige:
I got the brightness turned all the way down. I’m being safe
7:27pm – Azzi:
That is not how that works
7:27pm – Paige:
I’m dying of boredom Az. U should just come up here and distract me
7:28pm – Paige:
Promise I won’t be on my phone if ur with me
Azzi stopped responding. Paige pouted, shutting off her phone with unnecessary force before tossing it in the sheets beside her. She tossed and turned, trying to fall asleep, but her mind wouldn’t quiet. She kept her eyes closed anyways, trying to trick her brain into unconsciousness.
She didn’t open them when she heard footsteps walking into her room, assuming it was her nurse in the too tight scrubs coming in for yet another round of neurological exams. Futile as it was, she hoped he’d leave her alone if she pretended to be asleep.
Paige felt soft, ungloved fingers delicately sweep her hair out her face. Fingers that most definitely did not belong to Mike or Mark or Max or Marge or whatever her ugly male nurse’s name was. Her eyes shot open. Azzi. A part of the blonde thought she might’ve died and gone to heaven, seeing the bronze skinned, curly haired angel nurse hovering above her.
“You’re– you’re here,” she stuttered dumbly.
“I mean, you did text me twenty seven times,” Azzi teased, an increasingly familiar fondness in her voice.
“It wasn’t that much, bro,” she grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’re being dramatic.”
Azzi raised an eyebrow. “I’m being dramatic? I almost had to block you.”
Paige gasped loudly. “You wouldn’t.”
“Is that really something you want to test?” the nurse challenged.
The blonde held her stare for a moment, blue eyes squinting as if she were trying to assess how serious she was. Then she deflated. “No,” she huffed.
Azzi smirked, triumphant. “That’s what I thought.”
Paige broke out into a face splitting grin. “Gonna admit you miss me down there?”
“I’d be more likely to perform open heart surgery,” she snarked. “So no.”
Paige pouted. “But you came up to see me,” she argued weakly. “Besides, I could totally see you doing open heart surgery.”
“I came up here to tell you to leave Mac alone. He’s about five more minutes with you away from quitting,” she looked Paige up and down. “Or dosing you with something and making your death look like a tragic accident.”
Paige’s head cocked to the side, like a confused puppy. “Who’s Mac?”
Azzi looked at her bewildered. “Mac?” she said slowly, like she was talking to a not so bright child. “Your nurse. You know, the one with the ‘saran wrap’ scrubs?” she used her fingers to air quote Paige on the last part of the description.
“Ohhh” Paige drew out, recognition overtaking her face. “You mean Mike. Magic Mike. Who looks like he’s about to rip those scrubs off of himself like some cheap tear away pants and start a strip tease.”
“Paige!” Azzi admonished. “His scrubs are not that tight.”
The blonde stared at her. “Azzi, yes they are.”
Paige watched the nurse purse her lips in an effort to hold back a smile.
“Okay, maybe they’re a little bit tight,” Azzi admitted. “But you have to be nicer to him.”
Paige would never admit it, but she was being a bit difficult.
“I have been nice to him. ‘S not my fault he’s so sensitive,” she grumbled.
The look she gave Paige told her she didn’t believe her for a second. “You told him he seems like the kind of guy to microwave fish at work and watch Sophie Cunningham edits.”
“…Did I?” Paige asked, feigning innocence.
“You did.”
“That’s kinda funny though, you gotta admit it.” she smirked, a little proud of herself.
“No, Paige. He’s traumatized. The poor guy asked his charge nurse if he could switch units,” Azzi chastised.
“Well good,” Paige humphed, crossing her arms stubbornly. “Maybe next time he won’t come at me with so many damn needles.”
Azzi took a deep breath in, before releasing it slowly with a shake of her head. “He was drawing evening labs.”
“He stabbed me,” Paige retorted, head cocked and eyebrows raised.
“He gently poked you with a very tiny needle.”
“That’s technically still a stab,” Paige argued.
Azzi stared at her like she was exhausting. “You’re insufferable,” she grumbled.
“And yet, you’re still here,” Paige grinned, giving Azzi what she herself considered to be very nonchalant finger guns.
Azzi pushed one of them down with one of her own long skilled fingers. “I’m only here to keep you from scaring off my coworkers and causing a county wide nursing shortage. Not because I enjoy your company.”
Paige’s grin turned entirely too smug. “Aw, you enjoy my company?”
“That is so not what I said.”
“That’s literally exactly what you said. You just added extra words in front.”
Azzi opened her mouth to argue, then quickly shut it realizing that arguing with the blonde only seemed to encourage her. Making her somehow impossibly smugger.
Instead, she changed the subject, tried to move on. “Your neuro checks have all come back normal by the way. I assume they’re adjusting for your baseline level of delusion.”
Paige lit up, a lopsided smirk tugging at the corner of her lip. “Yeah? You wanna test me again? I don’t mind when you do it. You can get real close to my face again, check my pupils. Or how ‘bout my reflexes? Or my–”
The nurse smacked a hand over her face, throwing her head back dramatically. “Oh my god.”
Paige’s smirk grew as she wiggled her eyebrows. “That wasn’t a no.”
“You need to sleep,” Azzi deflected. “You’re injured.”
“Actually,” Paige pointed at herself proudly, “scan came back clear remember? They said I’m all good. I’m pretty much perfect.”
Azzi leveled her with an unamused stare. “It’s nice to see that your unwarranted overconfidence wasn't affected,” she said dryly.
“Oh, speaking of tests and scores and stuff,” Paige sidetracked, remembering a very important question she had. “What was that score you gave me? Started with a G I think? I don’t remember exactly what you called it.”
Azzi’s head cocked to the side, eyebrows furrowing. “A GCS score?”
Paige lit up. “Yes! That! What did that mean? Like, my score?”
“It’s the Glasgow Coma Scale,” Azzi instantly went into nurse mode. “We use it to assess neurological status. It evaluates and assigns point values in three different categories, which are then totalled. So we check motor–”
“Yeah, yeah,” Paige interrupted, “that’s cool. But I mean like, how did my score do percentile wise?”
“Percentile wise.” Azzi repeated slowly.
“Yeah, you know?” the overly competitive blonde began. “Like, I scored higher than most people, right? I mean, I probably set a record–”
Azzi laughed. She didn’t intend to, it just slipped out without her permission. Soft, warm, and barely there, but Paige heard it.
Paige froze, eyes widening, like she’d just witnessed lightning strike a rainbow. She pointed at Azzi accusingly.
“You laughed,” she stated in shock, voice nearly a whisper.
Azzi’s cheeks flushed subtly. “No I didn’t,” she denied.
“Yes you did!” she declared. “That was a laugh. Like, a real one. With sound and everything.”
“Stop.”
“Oh my god,” Paige exclaimed, entirely too excited. “I think I just peaked in life. If I died right now, I would die happy.”
“Paige.”
“Tell Dijonai I’ve always been better than her at–”
Azzi reached out and flicked her hard on the shoulder. “You’re unbearable," she complained.
Paige didn’t even try to hold back the smile that stretched across her face, filled with an undeniable reverence as she gazed at the nurse. “You’re cute when you laugh.”
Azzi straightened immediately, face dropping into what Paige could almost call a pout. “I’m leaving.”
“No don’t leave,” Paige panicked, voice coming out rushed. She quickly reached out and grabbed Azzi’s wrist – with a speed that would have impressed the nurse had she been assessing her reflexes at that moment – tugging Azzi back to her. “I’m sick.”
“You’re not sick.”
“I’m injured.”
“You’re mildly concussed.”
“And bored and lonely,” Paige added dramatically. “Like…this level of boredom and loneliness could potentially be fatal.”
Azzi sighed. It was long and suffering, but it lacked a certain level of annoyance that Paige had almost grown accustomed to. This sigh almost sounded…fond. Like she was even trying very hard not to smile again.
“Fine,” she caved. “Five more minutes.”
Paige’s entire face lit up like a child whose parents just told them they could stay up past their bedtime. “Really?”
Azzi’s eyes softened, just a bit. “Really,” she echoed.
Paige let herself sink back down into bed, head relaxing into the pillow behind her. She was triumphant, smug, and beneath it all, radiating warmth. “See?” she goaded, unable to help herself. “I knew you liked me.”
Azzi pulled the visitor's chair to the side of the bed, sliding into it with an exaggerated huff. “I said you could have five more minutes. Not a confession.”
But her hand rested on Paige’s forearm, thumb stroking gently against the soft skin beneath it every few seconds.
And Paige heard her heart rate monitor betray her. The nurse noticed, eyes flicking to the screen before returning to Paige. That tiny almost-smile tugging at her full lips.
“That’s really not fair,” Paige complained. “There’s gotta be a way to shut that off. What happened to medical ethics? ‘Cause this seems unethical. Didn’t you have to take an oath when you became a nurse?”
Azzi couldn’t help the small smile that graced her lips at Paige’s ridiculousness. I keep making her smile. I even made her laugh. Paige thought. I’m funny. Then thought to herself more seriously: I want to make her laugh forever.
“You should rest,” she said softly, eyes shining with warmth.
Paige was suddenly aware of just how heavy her eyelids were. Felt sleep tugging at her. The kind of tired that felt warm and safe.
She tried to fight it. Didn’t want to miss a moment with Azzi, desperate to be in her orbit. But it was a fight she couldn’t win. Not when Azzi was sitting beside her, her presence along with the thumb steadily stroking her arm bringing Paige a sense of peace and contentment she wasn’t used to.
I want to fall asleep next you for the rest of my life, was the blonde’s last coherent thought before she drifted off.
—
Paige was already dressed in the clean clothes Dijonai brought her, sitting with her legs hanging over the edge of the bed, bent over and tying off her last shoe when her nurse returned with the paperwork.
“Wow,” he deadpanned. “Eager to leave, huh?”
“I was kept here against my will for days,” Paige said dramatically, pulling her hoodie over her head.
“You’ve been here eighteen hours,” he said, unimpressed.
“Time moves different in the ICU, okay?” she sassed. “I don’t think you understand. I went from having Azzi Fudd as my nurse…to you.”
He raised his brows at her.
“...No offense,” she amended after silence stretched uncomfortably between them.
A quick knock sounded at the door before it slid open. Dijonai entered like a mother walking into a room she knew contained nothing but disappointment.
“There she is,” she remarked, hands coming up to pinch Paige’s cheeks like an overzealous grandmother. “The very reason I found my first ever gray hair.”
Paige beamed. “Hi mom.”
Dijonai held her face, uncomfortably squishing her cheeks together as she maneuvered her head to check for damage.
“You have a tiny cut, but other than that you seem fine,” she concluded, dropping her hands. “Suspiciously fine.”
Paige lifted her chin. “I’m very brave.”
“You’re a pain in the ass,” Dijonai corrected.
The nurse handed Paige the discharge instructions. Paige immediately passed them to Dijonai like a child turning in their homework.
Dijonai took a moment to skim them, reading what she deemed the most important bits outloud. “Okay. No screens for a little while–”
“That’s impossible,” Paige countered.
“No strenuous activity–”
“That’s also impossible.”
“No arguing with your teammates–”
Paige glared at her. “Liar. It does not say that.”
“It should,” Dijonai muttered, flipping through the rest of the papers before looking at Nurse Mac. “Is she good to go?”
“She is all yours,” he said, eager to be done with her.
“Thank you for dealing with her. I apologize for whatever it is I’m sure she put you through,” Dijonai said to the nurse.
As they headed towards the door, Paige paused, turning to Mac. “Hey Marge, lemme know what size scrubs you wear. Imma send you a pair as a thank you.” Then she smirked. “In a size up.”
Dijonai swatted her in the shoulder with a loud smack, muttering something about being nice. The two of them made their way down the halls, following signs until they reached the elevators.
When they stepped inside, Paige leaned back against the rail, looking at Dijonai with a rare hesitation.
“Are you gonna stay with me tonight?” she asked. “Just in case something goes wrong and I like…die or something?”
“You’re not going to die,” Dijonai said, rolling her eyes. “But yes. I’m babysitting you. For at least a couple of nights. I should have babyproofed your apartment before I picked you up, but I didn’t have time.”
When Paige looked at her confused, she elaborated. “You know? Like when parents put foam padding over all the sharp and hard edges so their babies can’t smack their heads into them?”
Paige pouted. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever,” she grumbled.
“But at the very least I will be hiding your knives.” Dijonai continued. “And your phone.”
“What? Why my phone?”
Dijonai smirked. “Because if you concuss-text Azzi one more time, she’s going to change her phone number.”
Paige gaped. “How do you know about that?”
“Oh did I not tell you?” Dijonai asked innocently. The elevator doors opened. “I ran into her on my way in today. We had coffee.”
She stepped out of the elevator, leaving Paige frozen in shock behind her.
—
Paige had barely clicked the buckle into place in the passenger seat of Dijonai’s car before she started complaining.
“I feel like this seatbelt is too tight,” she griped, tugging at it theatrically.
Dijonai didn’t take her eyes off of the road. “You’re buckled in normally. Stop fussing around.”
“It’s cutting off my circulation.”
“It’s across your chest.”
Paige slumped. “Exactly.”
Dijonai inhaled deeply through her nose. The long, exhausted exhale was one of somebody who had known Paige far too long to be surprised by her dramatics. “Lord give me the strength,” she prayed quietly.
When they reached a stoplight, Paige turned her head slowly. She stared at her teammate with the expression of someone who thought she was being subtle. She wasn’t.
Dijonai side eyed her. “What,” she said.
Paige continued staring, eyes roaming her face like she was trying to uncover something.
“What,” Dijonai repeated, louder this time, more pronounced.
“Nothing,” the blonde said, continuing to study her.
“Paige,” she said, tone almost a warning.
“Fine,” she folded. “Did you really run into Azzi? Did she say anything about me? Did you guys actually have coffee? What did she say about me? Does she miss me?”
“Oh for fucks sake,” Dijonai groaned. “Here we go.”
“Okay, but I’m serious though,” Paige insisted. “You actually ran into her?”
“Yes, Paige,” she said slowly, like she was talking to an insolent child. “I got there way too early to pick you up, ran into her and she looked exhausted, so I grabbed coffee from the place down the street.”
Paige blinked. “That was nice of you.”
Dijonai looked at her, saw the genuineness on her face and rolled her eyes before the light turned green and she continued driving. “Yeah well, Azzi actually seems really cool. You realize she is way out of your league, right?”
Paige couldn’t help but smile at the answer. “Yeah, I know.”
“Damn dude,” Dijonai chuckled softly. “You’re whipped. You think everyone is in your league. Where’s your delusion? Did you hit your head that hard?”
“No,” Paige grumbled. “Azzi’s just…different. I mean, she’s beautiful, yeah. That’s obvious to anyone with eyes. But she’s also funny, and caring, and ridiculously smart. She’s just…I don’t know how to explain it. She’s different. I feel different when I’m around her. Good. Really good. Even when my hand is gashed or my head is split open.”
“Fuck,” Dijonai said, sounding suspiciously worried. “That concussion really did mess you up.”
“Shut up,” Paige mumbled, suddenly shy. “You gonna tell me what she said or not?”
“We didn’t actually talk for that long. She was ridiculously busy. I don’t know how she does that job. It’s insane,” she said. “But when I showed up with a coffee she said she loved me and–”
“WHAT?” Paige interrupted. “She told you she loved you? You’re lying. No she didn’t.” The blonde was shaking her head repeatedly, in denial.
“Yes she did, and then–”
“That’s so unfair! I can’t believe she told you she loves you and won’t even admit that she likes me. As soon as I’m clear to drive I’m bringing her coffee at work every single day. I swear to–”
“Paige,” Dijonai cut off her rant before it could truly begin. “Do you want to hear the rest? Or do you want to keep spiraling?”
Paige crossed her arms and humphed. “I wanna hear the rest,” she sulked. “Did she mention me?”
“She told me you’ve been disobeying doctors orders and using your phone,” she scolded as they pulled up to another light. “And that you were terrorizing her coworkers.”
Paige threw her arms out in bewilderment. “I was not terrorizing them.”
“Paige,” she deadpanned. “You told your nurse his scrubs were so tight he was a walking sexual harassment claim just waiting to be filed.”
“He was!”
“He was not!”
“He looked like he was shrink-wrapped!”
Dijonai let her head fall forward onto the steering wheel for a moment. “What crime did I commit in a past life to deserve you?”
Paige gave a proud little smile, kicking her feet up onto the dash. “Light’s green.”
“Feet down,” Dijonai reprimanded.
Paige lowered her feet like a scolded child.
After a few moments of the sound of the radio filling the quiet between them, Paige spoke up again. Voice more vulnerable than it had been moments ago.
“You think I got a chance with her, like for real?”
“I think she gave you her phone number. Came up to see you. And gave me very detailed instructions on how to take care of you,” she admitted. “That counts for something.”
“I’m saying she tolerates you,” she corrected. “And that’s a pretty high bar for you to reach.”
They pulled into Paige’s lot.
“Still can’t believe you got to see her and I didn’t,” Paige whined. “And she told you she loved you before me.”
—
Dijonai used Paige’s keys to unlock the front door to the apartment, guiding the blonde inside like she was an old grandmother with severe dementia who would wander off the second she wasn’t being watched.
Once inside, Paige pulled her phone out of her sweatpant pockets, ready to text Azzi when Dijonai snatched it out of her hand.
“No screens,” she reprimanded, snagging the phone out of Paige’s hand before dragging a kitchen chair in front of the refrigerator and placing the phone on top of it towards the wall. The one place Paige couldn’t reach without at least a stepstool. “Doctor’s orders. Azzi endorsed.”
“That’s messed up,” Paige complained.
“It’s concussion protocol.”
“Still messed up,” she muttered.
Paige made her way to the couch with her vet in tow, where she slumped down. She pretended to sit quietly for a total of ten seconds before she casually wandered into the kitchen. She quietly climbed onto the kitchen counter and reached up towards the fridge.
“Paige,” Dijonai warned without even turning around. “Get your ass down from there right now.”
“I’m getting water,” Paige lied. “I’m supposed to stay hydrated.”
Dijonai turned. Paige froze, caught. Fingertips just grazing the edge of her phone from where she was blindly feeling for it, keeping an eye on her babysitter.
“Uh-uh,” she admonished. “Get. Down. Now. Before you fall and hit your head again. Don’t make me count to three, Paige.”
The blonde hopped down in record time, nearly twisting an ankle in the process. Dijonai in mom mode could be truly frightening. Her kids are gonna be so well behaved, she thought to herself. That mom voice is fucking terrifying.
“Okay, sorry,” Paige sulked.
“What could you possibly need your phone for right now?”
“I was just gonna see if Azzi texted me,” she said, feeling effectively scolded.
Dijonai snorted. “She didn’t.”
“She could have. You don’t know she didn’t,” Paige muttered under her breath.
“Stop moping,” she ordered. “Sit down, hydrate, and rest your brain cell.”
“Bro,” Paige objected. “I got more than one brain cell.”
“Really? Since when?”
Paige flipped her off as she walked past her.
After one more failed attempt to climb the fridge, and a very stern lecture from Dijonai, Paige ended up on the couch under a warm blanket. Dijonai sat beside her, placing a gatorade for Paige on the table in front of her before stealing some of the blonde’s blanket for herself.
“You good?” she asked, eyes studying Paige.
Paige shrugged, suddenly appearing much smaller than she normally does. “Yeah. Just…kinda tired I guess.”
Dijonai softened. “Your head still hurt?”
“A little,” Paige admitted, staring at the blanket. “I guess I just– I dunno. I just feel a little weird. The doctors and nurses all kept telling me how lucky I am. That it coulda been so much worse.”
Dijonai angled towards her a bit more, expression solemn. “You scared me, P. Like really scared me.”
Paige looked at her, eyes filled with inquisition.
“I’m serious,” Dijonai affirmed. “You were out cold. For a second I was scared you were never going to wake up. Then I worried you were gonna wake up and forget how annoying you are. That you wouldn’t be my overdramatic, annoying rookie.”
Paige snorted softly. “Impossible,” she said. “I’m not a rookie anymore.”
Dijonai rolled her eyes softly. “Of course that’s what you took away.”
“I– thank you,” she said. “For taking care of me. For staying with me tonight.”
Her vet bumped her shoulder before gently throwing an arm around Paige’s shoulder. “Of course, P. You don’t have to thank me. We’re family. Family takes care of each other. You know I’ve always got you.”
Paige blinked fast, emotion pooling in her eyes she didn’t want to admit was there. It was an accumulation of exhaustion, the past couple of days, and the unbridled support Dijonai gave her all piling on at once.
“I always got you too,” Paige said, voice thick with sentiment.
“Uh-uh. You’re not allowed to cry,” she warned softly. “Because if you cry, I’m going to start crying. And I still have my makeup on.”
“‘M not crying,” Paige sniffled.
“You so are,” Dijonai teased lightly.
“Man, shut up,” Paige whispered, ducking her head onto Dijonai’s shoulder.
And Dijonai let her stay there. No more teasing, no more jokes. Just a warm hand rubbing slow, soothing circles between Paige’s shoulder blades.
Paige exhaled, eyes drifting closed, weighed down by exhaustion. And for only the second time that day, she actually slept.
—
Paige woke up to the distinct sensation of something vibrating under her pillow. She had finally managed to sneak her phone off of the top of the fridge after Dijonai had gone to bed.
She pulled the device out from underneath her, blindly reached for her glasses on her bedside table and threw them on before squinting at the screen. It was way too early and the bright light offended her sensitive head until she realized why her phone was buzzing so much.
She had three new messages. All from Azzi. She couldn’t control the grin that split her face.
9:14am – Azzi:
Good morning. How’s your head feeling?
9:15am – Azzi:
And don’t lie. I won’t believe you if you say “it’s good”
9:18am – Azzi:
I can come check on you if you want. I’m off today
Paige’s heart started doing somersaults in her chest cavity. Her stomach fluttered with excitement. She typed back so fast she had to retype the sentence three times due to all of the spelling errors.
9:20am – Paige:
Morning. I’m okay. Mostly. Just a lil dizzy
She paused. Hesitated before sending the next text.
9:22am – Paige:
U wanna come over?
She regretted it immediately.
The three dots appeared. Disappeared. Then reappeared again.
9:24am – Azzi:
Dijonai said she has to go to practice in the afternoon. Worries about leaving you alone
Paige thought about for a second before she thought, fuck it, and pressed the call button next to Azzi’s name. It rang twice before she picked up.
“Hello?” she asked, voice just as angelic over the phone.
“Good morning,” Paige husked, voice gravely and laced with sleep.
“You called me,” Azzi stated, it was almost a question. But not quite.
“I’m not supposed to be looking at screens, remember? This is me bein’ responsible.”
There was silence between the line, and Paige shifted her phone to her other ear before she continued talking.
“You and Dijonai? Like, Dijonai Carrington?”
“That’s the one. Do you know a lot of other Dijonai’s?” Paige could hear the teasing smirk in her voice.
Paige wished she could see her face. I should’ve facetimed her. Fuck, I’m an idiot. She scolds herself internally. Maybe this concussion really did fuck me up. Would it be weird if I switched to facetime right now?
“Do you guys text a lot?”
“We text sometimes.”
“Like…more than me and you text?”
“You and I,” Azzi corrected. “But I don’t think anyone texts me as much as you do, Paige.”
The blonde smiled, flopping on to her back, happy with the information despite the fact that it most certainly wasn’t intended as a compliment.
“What do you text about?” Paige pried.
“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”
“It’s totally my business,” Paige argued. “My teammate and my future wi–”
Paige cut herself off quickly. It wasn’t her fault. She was still half asleep. She hadn’t been thinking. Plus, she was still freshly concussed.
“Excuse me?” Azzi said, brain unfortunately up and running for the day.
“Hello? You the– cut out– second there,” Paige pretended, doing an awful job she had an unstable connection.
But Azzi didn’t cut her a break.
“Sure. You got cut off. What were you saying? Something about your teammate and your future ‘wi–’? You want to finish that?”
Paige panicked. Sitting up fast in the bed, color draining from her face. She tried to maintain any semblance of dignity.
“Yeah. My uh– my future wise nurse who’s coming to check on me. Y’know, cause you’re a wise nurse…who’s coming over to make sure I’m good?”
Paige smacked herself in the forehead with her palm. There were two problems with that. First, it was loud. Loud enough that the phone most definitely picked it up. Second, she had a concussion. And that hurt. Bad.
She couldn’t help the pained wail that left her mouth, the dull throbbing in her head now roaring. Azzi’s voice devoid of any modicum of amusement that had been there only seconds prior.
“Paige. Did you just hit yourself in the head?”
“No?” Paige tried. But it came out distressed, and as a question.
“Don’t lie to me. I heard the smack. I honestly think it might’ve echoed.”
“Okay. Fine. But it was an accident,” she muttered, every word squeezing out through teeth clenched in agonizing pain.
She heard Azzi sigh, long and deep. Her voice came out even softer, quieter. Like she knew every sound made the pain worse. She probably does dipshit, Paige told herself. She’s a nurse. Of course she knows. She basically knows everything.
“Paige. You have to be careful. Please. Head injuries aren’t something to mess with.”
She said it so delicately Paige swore her voice somehow reached through the phone and wrapped itself around her brain, easing the pain more than any medical procedure ever could.
“Okay,” Paige whispered. “‘M sorry. It was an accident. I’ll be more careful.”
“That means no more climbing on counters, either.”
“What the– Oh I’m gonna kill Nai. How often are you guys texting, damn.”
“She’s keeping me updated on your adherence to concussion protocol.”
“Why don’t you text me to check that?”
“You’re not supposed to be on your phone, remember?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Paige sulked. “Did you still wanna come over? Y’know…to check on me?”
“I think I might have to after you just socked yourself in the head.”
Paige audibly scoffed. “It was a light smack, not a socking,” she corrected.
“Sure.” Something shuffled on the other end of the line, like Azzi was adjusting. “I’ll bring coffee. You’re not allowed outside yet without supervision. Apparently you can’t even be in bed without supervision.”
“Hey if you’re volunteering, I’m not gonna say–”
“Paige.”
Paige just chuckled softly. “Okay. Fine. I’ll see you soon, though?”
“In a couple of hours. Go back to sleep. Stop hurting yourself. I’ll text you when I’m on my way.”
Paige smiled so hard her head throbbed.
—
Paige nearly face planted three different times in her rush to answer the door, socked feet slipping on the hardwood floor. Damn, maybe I should’ve kept those grippy hospital socks, she thought to herself.
“No running!” Dijonai reprimanded as she flew past her.
When she finally arrived at the door, miraculously unscathed, she paused. Forcing herself to take a deep breath. Trying to calm her nerves and excitement. “Nonchalant,” she muttered to herself under her breath. “Be nonchalant.”
She swung the door open to find Azzi standing in front of her in sweats and a matching hoodie. Her curls were free of their usual updo, spilling behind her shoulders. She held a coffee in each hand, and had a small tote bag hanging from her shoulder.
“Oh my god,” Paige whispered, reverent. “You’re– you’re casual.”
Despite her previous reminder, she was indisputably not nonchalant. In fact, she was just about the furthest thing from it. If you were to look up antonyms for the word, an image of Paige standing in front of Azzi would be the first result.
Azzi blinked slowly. “And you’re concussed.”
Paige blushed slightly at her own ineloquence. “I just meant– you just look–” she sighed at herself, flustered. “I’ve never seen your hair down. You look soft.”
The nurse raised an eyebrow. “I look soft?”
Paige panicked, worried she’d insulted her. “Not like– not soft…weak,” she stuttered. “Soft…beautiful.” Her eyes widened, face getting warmer. “I mean– not like– just– you look…good.”
Azzi smirked lightly at the blonde’s inability to remain coherent, let alone unaffected in her presence. She raised one of the cups she was holding, extending it towards Paige.
“I got you a hot chocolate. Dijonai mentioned that you don’t drink coffee. Something about having the palate of a child?” she teased. But the thoughtfulness behind the action made Paige’s heart stutter.
She took the coffee with a shy “thanks,” trying to ignore the way it felt like her fingers burned from where they grazed Azzi’s as she took it. “I don’t think I like your guys’ newfound friendship,” Paige muttered.
Azzi waited a beat. “She also said you’d probably lie and say you do drink coffee to try and impress me.”
Paige turned bright red. “She’s a snitch.” she grumbled.
Azzi’s lips quirked. “She just knows you well.”
Paige didn’t respond. Too busy tracing every inch of Azzi with her eyes. Trying to memorize this new version of the nurse in front of her. The blonde didn’t think it was possible, but she was somehow even more beautiful in casual sweats standing in Paige’s doorway than in her scrubs.
Azzi’s eyebrows raised at Paige’s silence, rolling her eyes when she realized the blonde had most certainly zoned out, eyes raking over her features. The nurse crossed her arms and loudly cleared her throat, breaking Paige out of her thoughts.
“Are you going to invite me in? Or did you want to keep doing,” she gestured to all of Paige, “that?”
Paige’s eyes widened slightly in realization of her poor host skills. “Oh, yeah. Come in. Come in.”
She stepped aside, holding the door open for Azzi to walk in. When she walked past her, a whiff of her perfume hit Paige and she melted. At least, her brain did.
“Uh…” she blanked. Panicked at having her so close. Having her in her home. “May I…may I take your coat?”
Azzi blinked at her, fighting yet another smirk. “‘May you take my coat?’” she repeated slowly, teasingly.
Dijonai had made her way over to the door just in time to witness the blonde's utter lack of cool, practice bag slung over her shoulder. “Smooth, P. Real smooth,” she teased, grabbing her keys from the small side table.
Paige grimaced. Azzi smiled.
“Welp,” Dijonai said. “I’m off, kids. Good luck with her, Azzi.” She gave her a quick side hug. Paige was instantly a little jealous.
Then the vet turned towards her, pinching her cheeks between her thumb and forefinger. “You behave,” she said sternly.
Paige swatted her hand away, going red in the face at Azzi having witnessed Dijonai treat her like a literal child. The blonde sulked until the door shut behind her.
Azzi huffed out a small, breathy laugh. “She really is your mother,” she said, as she let herself walk further into Paige’s apartment. Paige trailed behind her like a lost puppy in her own home
The nurse sat on the couch, opening her bag and pulling out a BP cuff, stethoscope, and penlight. Of course she’s actually gonna do a full on assessment, Paige thought to herself, rolling her eyes.
Regardless, she plopped down on the couch next to Azzi. Though “next to” might have been a gross understatement. She was nearly on top of her. Every inch of their sides pressed together. Paige smiled entirely too pleased with herself.
Azzi side eyed her, but didn’t move away yet. Not until she actually began the exam, shifting over so she actually had adequate space to work. Paige missed the warmth of the nurse pressed against her, but she wasn’t about to complain when Azzi’s hands were still on her as she went through her assessment. She would never complain when she was close enough to count the freckles on her smooth skin.
—
By the time the nurse completed her annoyingly thorough exam, their drinks were long gone, and the two of them were chatting on the couch. Paige eager to learn everything she possibly could about the nurse. Hanging onto every word. Absorbing every drop of information she gave her.
Eventually, though, Paige grew restless. She was essentially on house arrest, and it was not something she tolerated well. She was eager to do something. Anything, really. As long as it was with Azzi. She just wanted to get out of the apartment.
It took an excessive amount of convincing, but Azzi finally agreed to let Paige go for a small and slow walk. With her supervision, of course.
So a few minutes later, Paige was bundled up in a hoodie and sunglasses she insisted she needed for concussion reasons, not because she thought they made her look cool.
The streets were surprisingly empty, as most people were inside due to the storm clouds rolling in. The wind tousled their hair every time it blew in harsh gusts. The sky looked like it was about to split open at any moment.
They walked side-by-side, the backs of their hands brushing every few steps due to their close proximity. Azzi kept a mindful pace. It was painfully slow. Like walking with a toddler who had just learned to walk on their own and refused to be carried or sped up.
“You don’t gotta go this slow,” Paige said, even though she absolutely needed to go that slow.
“You almost tripped three times putting your shoes on,” Azzi reminded her. “Yes we do need to go this slow.”
“Okay but that was like…gravity’s fault. Not mine.”
Azzi let out a sound that was halfway between a laugh and a sigh. Amused despite herself.
“Thank you for coming and checking on me,” Paige said sincerely.
Azzi didn’t look at her. She kept her eyes forward, but the tips of her ears turned faintly pink.
“Yeah well, you’re…” she paused, hesitating for a moment. “...my former patient,” she decided.
Paige smirked. “Oh, so you checkin’ up on all your ‘former patients’ like this?”
Azzi scoffed. “Only the ones that text me three hundred times a day.”
Paige kissed her teeth. “I do not text you three hundred times a day,” she protested. “It’s like, ten times a day. Maybe twenty…one time thirty.”
“That’s not any better,” Azzi laughed softly.
Paige bumped her gently with her shoulder. Azzi didn’t pull away. Not even a little bit. Just pursed her lips to hold back a smile.
“For real though,” Paige said. “Thank you.”
Azzi finally met her eyes. “If your head starts hurting more, we’re turning back.”
“Azzi,” Paige groaned.
“No, Paige. I’m serious,” she said. “You need to tell me if the pain gets worse. Are you feeling dizzy at all? What about nauseous? You have to be honest with me. How is the light sensitivity? Do you have any–”
“God, Az. Is this how you’re always gonna be? Even when we’re gray and old?” Paige asked her, exasperated.
Then the significance of the question she had unintentionally let slip out hit her harder than the court that concussed her. She felt heat rush to her face, burning with embarrassment.
Azzi didn’t say anything, but she was looking at the blonde, eyes wide, brows raised.
Paige immediately tried to explain herself. “I mean– I didn’t– it’s not like I’m sayin’ we're gonna get married. Not right away– I mean eventually– wait– I– no–,” she rambled fast, unable to complete a thought before cutting herself off and slipping into the next. She was in full panic mode.
Azzi didn’t put her out of her misery. Instead, she just continued to watch her, eyes glowing in amusement. Paige might’ve noticed the small, undeniably fond smile on the nurse's face if she hadn’t been refusing to look at her.
Paige finally paused her incoherent rambling, exhaling a sigh so deep it nearly rustled the leaves of the trees in front of them. “It’s ‘cause I got a head injury,” she declared. “You gotta pretend the last two minutes didn’t happen. I am concussed, remember?”
Azzi still didn’t speak, just allowed the hand that had been brushing against Paige’s every couple of steps to make contact again, this time gently intertwining their fingers as they continued to walk.
Paige’s head shot towards their interlaced hands. Like she needed the visual confirmation that she wasn’t imagining it. A surprised, breathtakingly beautiful smile slowly grew on her face.
“You’re an idiot,” Azzi finally said. Tone laced with affection.
Paige held tighter, heart squeezing in her chest. “Yeah well, you’re really pretty,” she mumbled.
They walked the rest of the way back to Paige’s apartment like that, hand in hand. Even as the sky opened up and soaked them through their clothes, rain pelting against them.
They only let go when they crossed the threshold back into Paige’s building, trailing water behind them. The blonde missed her touch instantly.
—
When they got back inside, Paige kicked off her shoes and immediately went to her room, grabbing some clean dry clothes for the both of them to wear. She handed Azzi an old, worn-in, oversized UConn hoodie, clean socks, and a pair of warm green plaid pajama pants.
Azzi looked at the clothes and hesitated.
“Azzi.” Paige rolled her eyes at the woman’s reluctance. “Your clothes are sopping wet. Just put them on. I’ll stick your clothes in the dryer. They’ll be ready before you leave.”
The nurse looked like she was going to decline, but then a shiver wracked through her body. “Fine,” she mumbled. “Thank you.”
Paige led Azzi to the bathroom before returning to her own room to change into dry clothes. When she returned to the living room, the site in front of her made her freeze.
Azzi was sitting on the couch wrapped in her hoodie. Wearing her cozy fleece pajama pants. Looking like she had just walked out of a dream that Paige had had recurrently since her first time meeting her nurse. She looked so soft. She looked like she belonged in her space. In her clothes. Like she belonged to Paige. The thought ricocheted in her brain, eyes glossing over with pure unadulterated adoration.
Azzi noticed her standing there motionless, staring at her with her mouth agape. She rolled her eyes fondly.
“Sit,” she ordered, pointing at the couch.
Paige blinked. “You’re kinda bossy. Anyone ever tell you that?”
Azzi ignored her. Paige made her way over to the couch, flopping dramatically onto the cushions far too close to Azzi.
Azzi raised a single eyebrow. Daring Paige to lie to her one more time.
“Fine,” Paige relented. Sighing. “Six. But only ‘cause you made us go on that stupid walk.”
Azzi laughed at the last statement, knowing full and well how stubbornly Paige had begged to go. Paige beamed with pride at the sound of Azzi’s soft, breathy laugh. Her chest filling with warmth.
Azzi looked at her. “You need to rest. At least ten minutes. And then you can be annoying again. I have some paperwork I need to do anyways.” She pulled out her phone.
“You’re not leaving yet though, right?” Paige questioned.
“No. My clothes are still in the dryer, remember?” She reminded her.
So Paige let her head fall back against the couch cushion. Let herself feel the heat of Azzi beside her. Breathed in the subtle scent of her shampoo as she rested her eyes.
Ten minutes later, Paige set up with a suspicious amount of energy for someone recovering from a concussion. Thunder crashed outside, sending streaks of lighting through the sky.
“So,” she said causally. Far too casually. “Since you’re already here…and it’s your day off so you’re definitely not in a rush…you wanna watch a movie?”
Azzi gave her an unamused look. “No.”
“What?” Paige’s mouth fell open in disbelief. “ You didn’t even hear the options! I got like, every streaming service.”
“You’ll get overstimulated. The screens, the noise? It’s all bad for your recovery.”
Paige pouted. “But what if we watch it on mute?”
Azzi blinked at her. Once. Twice. “You want to watch a silent movie?” she asked slowly. “You. Silent?”
“Yup,” Paige said confidently. “Ain’t that supposed to be artistic? Or emotional or something. Who knows, maybe you’ll feel things.”
Azzi pinched the bridge of her nose, looking like her head hurt worse than Paige’s. “No, Paige.”
Paige leaned impossibly closer. “Aw come on, Az,” she goaded. “You’re already sitting on the couch. That’s like 75% commitment.”
“We’re not watching a movie,” Azzi repeated. Tone final. “You’re on a screen limitation.”
“Okay, fine,” Paige conceded. “Let’s just sit here then. We don’t even have to talk.”
Azzi hesitated. “Fine. We can sit. But I don’t believe for a second that you can go more than thirty seconds without talking,” she snarked. “You like the sound of your own voice too much.”
“I like the sound of your voice better,” Paige countered smoothly.
Azzi rolled her eyes, and adjusted so that both legs were tucked underneath her on the couch. In doing so, however, there was now a small space between them.
Paige didn’t appreciate that. She scooted closer, closing the distance so that Azzi’s knees brushed against her thigh.
Azzi pretended not to notice. Paige noticed her pretending.
“So…” Paige started after about twenty seconds of silence, unintentionally proving Azzi right. “You checked my pupils earlier. You should probably do it again if you want.”
Azzi narrowed her eyes at the blonde. “You think I don’t know what you’re doing?”
“Nah, nah,” Paige said, all faux innocence. “Nothing like that. ‘S for medical reasons. The thunder is loud. Been hurting my head. Just wanna make sure everything’s still all right up there.”
“Well I can tell you right now that nothing is all right up there,” she snarked, pointing to Paige’s head.
Paige smiled, but then winced at the next bout of thunder. It honestly wasn’t even intentional. It really did hurt.
Azzi sighed upon seeing her reaction. “Fine. But don’t move,” she ordered.
She reached for the small penlight she had returned to her bag, turning it on with a small click. And gently placed a hand along Paige’s jaw to steady her.
The warmth from her touch shut the blonde's brain off completely. Her heart beating erratically and irregularly in her chest. Pounding so loud she was certain Azzi would have been able to hear it if not for the rain pelting against the glass windows in heavy sheets.
“Look straight ahead,” Azzi murmured.
Paige did not. She looked at Azzi’s mouth. Unable to pull her eyes from her full lips.
Azzi paused, mid exam, blinking. “Paige.”
“Hm?,” Paige hummed noncommittally, unfocused.
“You’re not looking where I told you,” she scolded.
“I am,” Paige argued softly. Voice low. “Just…not at the light.”
Azzi’s breath caught. Just barely. But Paige could feel it from how close they were.
The nurse tried again. “Eyes forward.”
Paige tried. She really did. Honestly.
But Azzi was so close. Too close. Close enough for Paige to smell her perfume and count each individual eyelash on her big brown eyes and notice the way her lips parted just a little. Close enough to notice the way her breathing had picked up–
“Paige,” Azzi whispered again. But it wasn’t reprimanding this time, just aware. The blonde could feel the air of her name puff against her own lips as it left Azzi’s mouth.
Azzi’s fingers tightened ever so slightly on Paige’s jaw. And then she made the mistake of looking down at Paige’s mouth.
Just for a second. But it was long enough. Everything went still. The noise of the storm faded into nothing.
Neither of them moved.
“Paige,” Azzi said softly. One last warning. “You’re concussed.”
“So I’ll go slow,” Paige murmured. “I’ll be gentle.”
Azzi swallowed. And the tension snapped. Paige leaned in. Barely. Just lightly brushing her lips against Azzi’s. Testing. Asking.
Azzi exhaled shakily before sealing the distance.
The kiss was soft and careful. Slow enough not to hurt Paige’s head, but deep enough that Azzi’s fingers curled behind her ear, anchoring her.
And Paige melted. Electricity shot through her like a current flowing through her veins. More charged than the lightning outside. She had never experienced anything like it. Azzi’s lips were so soft. And she was so warm beneath Paige’s hands.
Just as Paige moved to deepen it, Azzi pulled back, breathing unsteady, chest rising and falling in shallow waves. Her eyes were wider than Paige had ever seen them.
Azzi shook her head gently. “You’re concussed.”
Wow, Paige thought to herself. My last first kiss.
—
It was still early but the sky had gone dark with the weather, clouds blocking out the sun. The storm was right above them now. Lightning striking frequently, sending bright flashes of light through the apartment window, thunder nearly rattling the building. Dijonai texted that she’d be home late. Something about road closure due to flooding and shitty Texas roads.
The two women were still on the couch, backs resting against opposite ends, legs intertwined in the middle. Paige tried to pretend she wasn’t exhausted.
Azzi saw right through her. “You’re tired,” she said.
“‘M not tired,” Paige sulked, but the way her words came out slurred and her mouth split into a yawn negated any ground she had to stand on.
“Mhm,” the nurse said, not believing her. She stood up, holding a hand out to Paige. “C’mon, let’s get you to bed.”
As much as she didn’t want to sleep, Azzi offering to let her hold her hand and walk her to her bed was far too tempting of an offer to resist. So she let the nurse help her up, tangling their fingers together and leading the two of them down the hall to her room.
Paige was suddenly embarrassed about the state of her room. Never having assumed that Azzi would actually be in it. Her bed was unmade, and there was a pile of clean laundry she hadn’t yet gotten around to folding on the ottoman.
But Azzi didn’t comment on any of it. She entered the room behind Paige, hands still intertwined, as she looked around observantly. Like she was studying everything about the room that made it so Paige.
Paige slowly made her way over to her bed, like walking the last few feet was draining her of the last of her energy reserves, tugging Azzi along behind her. She only separated their hands to pull the sheets back. She climbed in, scooting over to the far side.
When she realized Azzi wasn’t planning on napping with her, she sat up. Azzi pushed her back down and began to pull the covers up over her, effectively tucking her in. Paige’s heart would have swelled at the notion had she not been so distraught about the fact that it seemed like Azzi was about to leave her.
“Wait,” Paige sat up again, capturing her wrist as she turned to leave. “Where are you goin’?” she asked sleepily.
Azzi looked at her, eyes soft and filled with affection. Paige almost looked away, suddenly shy under the affection.
“I’m going home,” she said quietly. “I’m tired too.”
“Are you crazy?” she asked, disturbed. “You can’t go out in this. Drive in this.”
As if the weather wanted to prove her point, thunder crashed so loud it shook the walls, rain pelting loudly against the window in the quiet of the room.
“Just…stay with me. Nap until it dies down a little. S’not safe right now, Az,” she said quietly, genuine concern in her voice.
Azzi wavered, eyes flicking between Paige and the door. Like she was torn and couldn’t make up her mind. Fingers toying with the sleeves of her borrowed hoodie.
“Just a nap, Azzi,” Paige said, eyes earnest. “I promise. Scout’s honor.” She held up one hand like she was swearing an oath.
“You were never a scout,” Azzi deadpanned.
“Okay, but I could’ve been,” Paige whispered, smiling.
The next crack of lightning made the decision for her. It was so loud that Azzi jumped. “Okay, fine,” she caved. “Just until the roads are safe,” she justified, more for her own sake than Paige’s. Paige laid back down on her back, eyes watching Azzi.
She climbed in next to Paige, pulling the covers over herself, turning so her back faced Paige. A solid six inches of space between them. But Paige could still feel the warmth radiating off of her.
Paige went completely still, not wanting to scare her off. Somewhat in shock at the fact that the nurse was in her bed. With her. On purpose. The small space between them felt massive in the silence filled only by the sound of the storm and their uneven breaths.
Lightning cracked again. After almost a full sixty seconds, Azzi moved. Flipped over and shuffled closer to Paige, placing her head on her chest. Nose nestling between the juncture of her shoulder and neck as she swung a leg over the blonde’s waist. Her arm swung over to rest across her stomach. Essentially molding herself to Paige.
And Paige felt all of the tension melt away as it left her body. The arm pinned halfway underneath Azzi wrapped up around her back to hold her tightly. The other coming across her body to tangle in her hair, keeping her pressed securely against her. She let out a deep breath, somewhere between a sigh of relief and utter contentment. Nestled her face into Azzi’s curls, breathing her in deeply before placing a kiss to the crown of her head. She felt Azzi snuggle in closer at the act.
Paige was asleep within minutes. It was the best sleep she had ever had. Wrapped in a feeling of safety and warmth she knew now that she had experienced, she could never go without. Wrapped in Azzi.
—
Paige woke up a few hours later, warm and groggy, Azzi overwhelming her senses in the best way. She felt the body laying half on top of her trying to peel itself away. Her arms tightened around the nurse, pulling her closer as she grumbled a sleepy protest.
She felt more than heard the soft, raspy chuckle Azzi let out low in the crook of her neck. She tried to pull away again, but Paige’s grip only tightened against her.
“Paige,” she mumbled, voice thick with sleep. “I have to go home. The storm’s pretty much done.” She tried to push Paige’s arms off, though the attempt was suspiciously weak.
The storm outside had quieted from a loud roar to a gentle hum. Lightning long passed. The rain was now just a soft drizzle tapping faintly against the window.
“Paige,” she said again, a little more firmly this time. “I really have to go.”
The blonde groaned. Slowly letting her arms fall from the nurse as she pulled away. Azzi’s hand dragged across Paige’s stomach as she pushed herself upright, and the blonde’s breath caught embarrassingly fast.
The blonde groaned dramatically, but finally let go. Azzi slipped out of her arms, and Paige missed her warmth instantly. She threw an arm over her face and took a deep breath. Then peeled the blankets back and swung her legs over the edge of the bed.
Azzi noticed immediately.
“What are you doing?” she asked, brows furrowing, curls mussed from sleep in a way that made Paige’s heart go wild in her chest.
Paige just stared at her, genuinely confused. “…Walking you out?”
Azzi ducked her head so quickly Paige almost laughed, turning toward the doorway before the blonde could see the pink dusting her cheeks. But it was too late, Paige had absolutely seen it.
She smiled proudly to herself at the fact that she had managed to fluster the nurse. She grabbed her phone – and Azzi’s, which the nurse had left practically buried in the blanket in her rush to escape – before following her out into the living room.
She saw Azzi stuffing her now dried clothes into her tote bag before throwing it over her shoulder. Paige didn’t comment on the fact that the nurse seemed to have no intention of returning her clothes. Though the thought of Azzi casually wearing Paige’s hoodie around her own home made the blonde’s pulse rate double.
Paige dangled Azzi’s phone in her hand. “You forgetting something?”
The nurse snatched it from her hand with mortified speed. “I did not forget. I was going to grab it before I left.”
“Oh yeah? What…you just wanted an excuse to go back to my room?”
Azzi shot her a warning look. “Don’t start.”
Paige put both hands up, surrendering. “I’m just sayin’, I wouldn’t blame you. Kinda smooth actually.”
Azzi gave her that exhausted, fond, look. “You’re unbelievable.”
Paige beamed. “Thank you.”
She rolled her eyes as she walked by Paige to reach the front door. Pausing when she realized the blonde was hot on her trail, with no intention of saying goodbye at the door as she slid her slides on.
“You’re not walking me all the way down,” she said.
“Azzi, yes I am.”
“You’re a fall risk,” she reasoned.
Paige smirked, “Like you’d let me fall.”
“I might,” Azzi muttered under her breath. Paige caught it, but chose to ignore it.
“What if you fall on the way back up?” the nurse challenged.
“Just a risk I’ll have to take I guess,” Paige said smugly as she opened the door. “After you.”
Azzi sighed, defeated. She lightly bumped her shoulder against Paige as she walked past her, grumbling something Paige couldn’t quite make out. Though she did catch the words “irritating” and “pain in the ass”.
—
“You seriously don’t need to walk me all the way to my car,” Azzi said as they stepped outside into the aftermath of the storm. The light breeze gently blowing the nurses hair back as she spoke.
“Try stopping me,” Paige shot back.
“Just seems unnecessary," she grumbled.
“It’s chivalry,” Paige countered. “I’m being a gentlewoman.”
The nurse side eyed her, eyes landing on her feet. “You’re wearing mismatched socks.”
“Chivalry isn’t about socks, Azzi.”
Azzi shook her head, but Paige could see it. The tiniest smile pulling at the corner of her mouth. She never smiled fully when Paige teased her. But that almost-smile? Paige was convinced it was one of the most beautiful things she’s ever seen.
Paige walked close enough that their arms brushed every few steps. The blonde pretended like it was accidental. It definitely wasn’t. But Azzi didn’t move away, and the realization made Paige swoon.
When they reached her car, Azzi stopped, keys dangling in her hand.
“Well,” she said softly. “Thanks for…walking me out.”
“Of course,” Paige grinned. “Thanks for coming over and making sure my brain is still good. And for the hot chocolate. And for taking me for a walk. And for sleeping with me.”
The nurse blushed. “I didn’t sleep with you. I…just happened to fall asleep next to you.”
Paige raised her eyebrows. “You were practically on top of me.”
Azzi pouted, brows furrowing slightly as her bottom lip jutted out ever so slightly. Paige’s eyes couldn’t help but to track the movement. Fuck, she’s perfect, the blonde thought to herself.
“I’m not complaining about it though,” Paige added on, throwing her hands up in surrender. “Like…I’d be down to do that every day. Actually, you know what? We probably should. Yeah. Definitely should. So…same time tomorrow?”
Azzi tried to look unimpressed. She wasn’t successful. Her dimples betrayed her. Paige couldn’t resist raising her right hand up to gently poke one, smiling as twisted her finger into the soft flesh.
Azzi swatted it away with a roll of her eyes. “Goodnight, Paige.”
Paige stepped closer, heart tripping over itself. Before she could overthink it she wrapped her arms around Azzi’s waist, pulling her flush against her.
Azzi froze for a moment before melting into it. Her arms snaking around Paige’s shoulders. It was warm. And tight. And intimate. Careful in that way Azzi always was with her, even when pretending not to care.
Paige tucked her face into her shoulder, breathing her in. Azzi’s arms tightened around her, her hands curling into her hoodie, like she didn’t want to let go.
The nurse stepped back first, but only barely. Still close enough that Paige could feel her breath. Her hands were still loosely holding Azzi’s waist.
Emboldened by the proximity and the warmth still radiating through her from the hug, the blonde pulled the nurse just an inch closer and leaned forward the tiniest bit.
Then she pressed a warm, feather-light kiss to Azzi’s forehead. She lingered for a breath, barely touching, then pulled back. She stuffed her hands into her pocket so she wouldn’t pull her back in for more than just a kiss to the forehead.
“…That wasn’t fair,” she murmured, voice softer than Paige had ever heard it.
Paige smirked, her hand coming up to rub at the back of her neck. “Yeah well, neither the way you look in my clothes.”
Azzi’s lips twitched, head ducking slightly in an attempt to hide her blush. “You should get inside before your head starts hurting even worse,” she deflected.
Paige lips pulled into a soft smile. “You gonna check on me later?”
Azzi rolled her eyes like she wanted to pretend she wouldn’t. “I’ll text you.”
Paige bit her lip. “Or you could come check on me in person again…tomorrow would work.”
Azzi hesitated. A second too long. A second that gave her away.
“Maybe,” she finally said. “We’ll see.”
Paige’s grin was devastatingly smug. “That’s basically a yes.”
Azzi turned toward her car. “It is not a yes.”
“It’s so a yes,” Paige said, as she reached around Azzi to open the car door for her. Azzi paused, giving Paige a look that was half fond, half defeated, mumbling a shy “thank you” as she climbed in.
“Drive safe,” Paige told her before shutting the door with a quiet thump.
Paige waited for Azzi to drive off, but the car never pulled forward. She just sat there with the engine idling, looking at Paige expectantly, almost impatiently. Like she was waiting for her to do something. She rolled her window down, mouth opening to speak but Paige beat her to it.
“You havin’ second thoughts about leaving?” Paige smirked. “‘Cause you can come back up if you want. I don’t mind.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Azzi scoffed. “I’m waiting to make sure you make it back into the building without collapsing.”
“Well…I was waiting to make sure you got out of the parking lot without crashing,” she shot back, rocking on her heels.
“Paige.”
The blonde relented, shooting her a bashful smile. “Night, Az.” She made her way back to the apartment entrance, smile never leaving her face. Never faltered, even as her head throbbed with every step.
—
Paige had barely crossed the threshold into her apartment. Hadn't even kicked off her wet slides yet when her phone buzzed with a notification from Azzi. Her whole face lit up the second she saw her name.
5:35pm – Azzi:
Did you make it back up?
5:35pm – Paige:
Yup. I survived
Icl I kinda love how worried u r about me
5:36pm – Azzi:
I wasn’t worried about you
I just didn’t want your death on my concious
Paige smiled at her phone like an idiot. It drove her absolutely crazy that Azzi wouldn’t just admit she cared about her. Admit that she liked her.
5:37pm – Paige:
I wouldn’t haunt u if I died
Matter a fact I’d prob be ur guardian angel
Paige flopped onto her bed, anxiously awaiting a reply. Her sheets smelled faintly of Azzi and the recognition made her dizzy. She lay in the spot the nurse had just occupied, burying her nose in the covers.
5:48pm – Azzi:
Just because it’s you, I’d still consider it a form of haunting
5:49pm – Paige:
So rude
I would totally protect u
5:50pm – Azzi:
Protect me or annoy me?
5:50pm – Paige:
Who says I couldn’t do both
5:55pm – Azzi:
You’re doing one of them right now
Paige laughed softly, holding her phone close to her heart as she thought of a reply that would get a reaction out of the nurse. She didn’t mean to, but she ended up falling back asleep. The day had taken a toll on her. A good one. But it left her head hurting and her body exhausted none the less.
—
When she woke up hours later, she was overjoyed to see Azzi had texted her again.
10:01pm – Azzi:
If you start feeling dizzy or nauseous, or the pain is worse than usual, let me know. You pushed yourself today. Probably too hard.
Paige grinned. She’s thinking about me, she thought to herself. She was smiling so hard her cheeks hurt. It’s 10pm and Azzi Fudd is thinking about me. Her chest felt like it was about to explode with the way her heart started beating.
10:03pm – Paige:
Ur allowed to just say you miss me
Azzi took a moment to respond. Those three dots appearing and disappearing a few times before she finally committed to a message.
10:05pm – Azzi:
I miss patients who actually adhere to their doctors orders
You’re just…medically concerning
Paige laughed, wincing at the sharp pang in her head that accompanied the sound.
10:05pm – Paige:
U kissed me tho
10:06pm – Azzi:
I think you’re remembering that wrong. You kissed me
10:06pm – Paige:
U kissed me back tho
There was another long pause. Another round of appearing and disappearing dots. Paige wondered if the nurse knew she could see when she was typing.
10:08pm – Azzi:
Go to sleep, Bueckers
10:08pm – Paige:
Night Azzi 😘👩❤️💋👩
See what I did there? U like those emojis?
Azzi didn’t reply.
Not for almost fifteen minutes. Paige stubbornly refused to close out of the text thread, still hoping for a response.
Then she heard the ding.
10:21pm – Azzi:
Stop smiling at your phone and go to bed
Paige looked around her dark room like she’d just been caught. As though Azzi might’ve somehow seen her.
10:22pm – Paige:
Bro how did u KNOW
10:22pm – Azzi:
Goodnight Paige
Paige fell asleep smiling again. Dreaming of dimples, a soft laugh, and full lips.
—
They had been spending an obscene amount of time together. Initially, Azzi under the guise that she was making sure Paige was taking care of herself post-concussion. Paige under the guise that…well, it was Azzi. How could she not spend every free second with the woman. But Paige had been cleared for weeks, the season had started and Paige still spent every free second between practices and games with her.
And by the grace of god, the nurse never seemed to get sick of her. Aggravated? Sure. Annoyed? Absolutely. But that was just Paige. She expected it, in fact, she secretly adored it. Loved the way Paige argued with her. The way her eyes would light up. The way Paige would try so fucking hard to make her laugh. Like it was her life's mission. Loved the way she remembered the little things that Azzi mentioned, like every detail was important. How she would surprise her at work with coffee and lunch and flowers and a goofy, lopsided, overconfident smile.
And once Paige had realized it was okay to touch Azzi, she couldn’t stop. Whether it was interlacing their fingers, a hand on her lower back or her thigh, an arm slung over her shoulders. It didn't matter. She just needed some form of contact. She craved it. A craving so intense she worried it might cause irreparable damage. It only seemed to get worse the longer they were together.
They were currently lying on the couch in Paige’s apartment, under the pretense that they were watching a movie. A movie Paige couldn’t remember the name of, let alone the plot, as Azzi was curled into her on the couch. Bodies pressed close, faces only inches apart in the minimal space between them.
“Admit it,” Paige whispered, voice low.
Azzi’s eyes didn’t move from her lips. “Admit what?”
“Admit that you like me.”
Azzi’s brown eyes snapped up to meet Paige’s blue. She attempted to glare, but the half-lidded state of eyes rendered her glare entirely ineffective. Instead, it came across as a mix of yearning and seduction.
“You’re insane,” she retorted. She was so close that Paige could feel her breath puff warm against her lips.
“Azzi,” Paige coaxed. “Just admit it.” Her hand came up and gently cupped Azzi’s jaw, holding it as if she were something precious, delicate. Her index finger softly stroking the shell of her ear. She pulled her closer, ever so slightly. Their noses brushing.
“I’m here, aren’t I?” Azzi challenged. Refusing to give in, even as her own hand tangled into the soft hair at the back of Paige’s neck, trying to pull her closer. To close the gap.
But Paige wouldn’t budge. “I wanna hear you say it.”
Azzi closed her eyes, exhaling a shaky breath that Paige could taste. She was so close. It took every ounce of willpower, every ounce of restraint, not to give in. Azzi’s eyes opened again, boring into Paige’s for just a moment. Paige registered the brown of her eyes nearly entirely engulfed by blown pupils before they landed back on her lips.
“Paige,” Azzi choked out, strained. “Please.”
And Paige broke. Closed the nearly nonexistent space between their mouths. It started slowly. The blonde gently took Azzi’s full top lip between her own. Let herself memorize the feel of it. The softness, the warmth. Explored the way they fit together so perfectly. As if it were the most natural thing in the world. Like they had done this before in a thousand different lifetimes, and had finally found each other again in this one.
She switched focus to Azzi’s plump bottom lip, giving it the same tender attention. She swiped her tongue along it in a gentle caress, memorizing the taste, taking advantage of the small gasp Azzi let out at the sensation to enter her mouth. The soft whimper that escaped Azzi the moment their tongues met sent white hot heat coursing through every nerve ending in Paige’s body.
The kiss shifted from gentle and inquisitive to heated and bordering desperate in the span of a breath. Paige shifted so that she was on top of the nurse. The hand lightly cupping Azzi’s face slid into her hair, tugging gently at the soft curls she found there. Her other hand gripped her waist, fingers caressing the soft skin between her shirt and pants, before inching lower.
Azzi’s own hands weren’t any less restrained. Sliding from her hair and dragging down her back, landing on her hips, just above the swell of her ass. Pulling her impossibly closer, like she could somehow fuse them together by sheer will and desire.
When her lips started to trail kisses down Azzi’s jaw to her neck, sure to pay extra attention to the spots that had the nurse gasping beneath her, the front door swung open aggressively with a loud bang as it smacked against the wall. The two women jumped apart in an instant, trying and failing to look like they had just been sitting on the couch watching the movie the entire time.
“This is the only time I will be grocery shopping for you,” Dijonai complained from the doorway. “You have the shopping list of a literal child. Do you know how embarrassing it was to check out with a cart full of–”
She cut herself off as she rounded the corner and saw the two of them, skin flushed, hair tousled, lips kiss-swollen, and chests heaving.
“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me,” she said appalled. “Ew. I feel like I just walked in on my child sneaking a girl into the house!”
“Nai!” Paige exclaimed, cheeks heating in embarrassment at her vet’s analysis. I never should’ve given stupid Dijonai that key, Paige thought to herself annoyed. That woman just lets herself in all willy nilly.
Dijonai ignored her, pointing an accusatory finger at Azzi. “And you,” she started, “I still can’t believe you’re actually dating her. I thought you were smarter than to fall for her stupid ass.”
“Hey!” Paige shouted, indignant.
Azzi just shrugged. “I mean, they say opposites attract.”
Dijonai laughed.
Paige finally processed the insult. “Hey!” Paige said again, mouth hanging open in offense. Azzi brought a hand up to carefully close it for her, stroking her cheek once before dropping her hand on to Paige’s thigh, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
Paige’s face was so red Azzi worried she wasn’t getting effective blood flow to the rest of her body. And of course Dijonai noticed.
The vet cackled, doubling over in laughter. “No wonder all she can say is ‘hey’, all of her blood is in her face,” she teased.
Paige just groaned loudly, letting herself collapse into Azzi, face falling into the crease of her neck to hide her humiliation.
But she heard Azzi laugh, soft and warm and raspy against her ear. The sound even more beautiful so close to the source. And she felt one arm wrap securely around her waist, holding her close, while the fingers of her other hand carded gently through her hair.
And in that moment, Paige knew what her future looked like. Knew what true happiness felt like. Knew now that she had it, she would never let it go.
═══════════════════
a/n: please let me know what you think! i really appreciate any comments or thoughts. thank you guys so much for all the love and support, i honestly can't believe how much you all seemed to like this story. i had a great time writing it. truth be told i could have kept retweaking and adding scenes to this forever, so i had to just get it out. but i hope you all enjoyed it. maybe i could be convinced to write an epilogue or another one shot in this universe in the future if that's what the people want
paige bueckers, the wnba’s resident casanova, has set her sights on azzi fudd, a stunning rookie on the rise. little does she know that azzi has resented her since they were 15 years old.
The way it felt beneath her hands—warm, impossibly soft. The subtle dip of her hip bone, the edge of her waistband folded just slightly like it had been waiting to be touched.
She’d told herself to forget. That it was just a moment. Just heat and impulse and poor judgment but her body wouldn’t let her.
She kept replaying it. How Azzi had looked up at her, breath caught, pupils blown wide. How her legs had shifted open just a little wider when Paige had leaned in, voice low, and whispered, Relax.
God.
She had said it like a command. But it had come out more like a prayer.
And Azzi had answered it.
Now she was flat on her back in bed, staring up at the ceiling fan like it had answers. It didn’t.
Just kept spinning—slow, useless, steady—while her mind did the opposite.
There was a pulse in her body she couldn’t ignore. Clear. Annoying. Persistent. And located exactly where it had no business being.
She shifted, tried to breathe through it. Blame it on the night. On the fact that it had been a while. But it wasn’t that.
It was Azzi. It was always Azzi. And no amount of ceiling-staring or self-discipline was going to make that stop.
She’d tried. God, she’d tried.
But it was like Azzi had carved herself into Paige’s skin. Left fingerprints in places Paige couldn’t scrub clean, no matter how many cold showers or carefully avoided eye contacts she tried to stack in her defense.
So, with every ounce of frustration and loathing she could summon—at herself, at this, at the way Azzi smiled like she didn’t know what she was doing—Paige gave in.
She slipped her hand beneath the waistband of her boxers, jaw tight, eyes shut. Because wanting Azzi felt like a betrayal of everything she told herself she was supposed to be.
And still, she couldn’t stop.
She thought about Azzi in her shirt—how the hem skimmed the tops of her thighs, just barely decent, just barely intentional. The way she looked up at Paige from the training table, eyes wide, mouth parted, so fucking willing to listen. To obey. To wait.
She thought about the way Azzi’s teeth dragged over that full bottom lip. The sharp edge of her hip bone beneath Paige’s hand, a perfect anchor. How easy it would’ve been to press her palm there—pin her. Hold her still. Sink to her knees and finally, finally show Azzi Fudd just how goddamn bad she wanted her.
The image alone knocked the air from her lungs.
She touched herself without thinking—fingertips slipping down, finding heat, finding soaking wet. She cursed under her breath. Her body always gave her away. Always remembered what she was trying to forget.
She moved carefully at first, like the quiet would make it mean less. But it didn’t. Every slide of her fingers was a memory—Azzi’s mouth, Azzi’s hands, Azzi’s skin.
Paige’s breath came hard as her fingers moved lower, slick and unrelenting. She didn’t ease in—didn’t deserve slow or soft. This wasn’t about pleasure. It was punishment.
Two fingers pushed deep, fast, and her hips jerked at the stretch. She bit down on a moan, jaw clenched, teeth grinding.
"Fuck," she muttered, the word splitting the dark.
She pressed harder. Let her wrist ache from the angle. She imagined Azzi's voice—sharp, teasing, just this side of cruel—and it only made her wetter. Made her body clench around nothing but memory.
This wasn’t fair.
She curled her fingers inside herself, fast and furious, chasing something sharp enough to cut the edge off wanting her. Her palm worked too, messy and slick, and she spread her legs wider like it might shut her brain up. But it didn’t.
It just got louder.
Azzi’s mouth, hot and eager between her thighs. Azzi’s hands, rough with need. Azzi’s voice, whispering things she shouldn’t know how to say.
Paige gasped and came with her name lodged like a thorn in her throat—quiet but brutal. She didn’t even stop right away. Just kept fucking herself through it, like she could drive the ghost of her out with every thrust.
But she failed. Miserably.
When she finally stilled, her hand was sticky, thighs shaking, chest heaving, she groaned and stared at the ceiling, shame pooling low in her stomach. Azzi’s name bitter on her tongue.
Azzi’s POV
Azzi was miserable.
Tired. Sore. And horny.
A terrible combination, really. The kind that made everything feel louder, hotter, too much.
She’d just wanted to go to bed. That was it. That was the goal. But apparently, her brain had other plans. Namely: replaying every single second of Paige Bueckers’ hand on her hip like it was some kind of highlight reel.
It hadn’t even started like that. Just…there. Firm. Steady. Massaging slow circles into the muscle like she knew exactly where it hurt. Like she’d been there before. Like she wanted to be the one to fix it.
Azzi had pretended to be fine. Had mumbled a thanks, made some joke. But her skin had burned under Paige’s fingers, and the longer it went on, the harder it became to breathe.
She should’ve told her to stop.
But instead, she’d just shifted slightly—enough for her waistband to slip, for Paige’s thumb to press lower, right into the groove of her pelvis.
Now she was stuck with the memory.
The weight of Paige’s hand. The heat in her voice when she said “you’re tight here” like it meant something else entirely.
And then—because Azzi had completely lost all sense of self-preservation—Paige had said, “Relax,” and Azzi’s legs had just…widened.
Automatically. Like her body was one of those voice-controlled lights.
"Relax." Boom. Door open. Morals gone. Dignity? Never heard of her.
She slapped a hand over her face and groaned into the dark.
Because here she was, lying alone in bed, spiraling over the fact that she’d instinctively made herself more available the second Paige so much as breathed on her.
What was next? Barking on command?
She rolled over and punched her pillow, which, shockingly, did not solve her problems. All it did was confirm what she already knew: she was pathetic. And possibly losing her mind.
With a groan that sounded like it came from the depths of her soul, Azzi yanked her phone off the charger and did what any emotionally compromised twenty-something would do at 1:14 a.m.—she FaceTimed her emergency contact system.
Caroline picked up first, bleary-eyed in her retainer and hoodie, already bracing for impact. Jana joined thirty seconds later, clearly horizontal, clearly not thrilled.
“You win your first WNBA game and this is what you do?” Jana asked, voice gravelly. “You go home and FaceTime us? What happened to—I don’t know—celebrating?”
Azzi flopped dramatically onto her back, the camera wobbling. “I think I got too horny for Paige and now I’m emotionally unwell.”
They both went dead silent.
Jana blinked. Caroline sat up a little straighter. The screen stilled like they were buffering in real time.
“Say that again,” Jana said slowly.
“I got too horny for Paige,” Azzi repeated, face buried in the crook of her elbow. “And now I hate myself.”
Caroline leaned in like she was about to conduct an FBI-level debrief. “Talk.”
“I can’t talk,” Azzi hissed. “Because every time I think about it I remember how I just spread my legs the second she told me to relax like some Victorian wife trying to produce an heir.”
“Rewind,” Caroline said, eyes narrowing with purpose. “How did we even get to that point?”
Azzi groaned and flopped onto her side again, the phone catching a weird angle of her ceiling fan. “I don’t know! It started normal!”
“What’s your definition of normal?” Jana asked. “Because you just admitted to going full obedience at the slightest whisper.”
Azzi groaned again, louder this time. “I was sore, okay? My hip was tight and she noticed because she notices everything and then she was like, ‘You’re tight here,’ and I swear to God I almost died on the spot.”
Caroline winced in solidarity. “That’s not even the worst part, is it?”
Azzi peeked at the screen from under her arm. “No.”
Jana was grinning. “Tell us.”
Azzi inhaled. “Then she said ‘relax’ and I just…did. Like, automatically. Like she had me programmed. And I realized—after obviously—that I had literally widened my legs like someone who’s never been touched by God or a woman. And now I can’t sleep. Or walk past her. Or exist.”
Caroline tilted her head, eyes narrowing like she was working through a math problem. “Okay, but wait—she offered to massage you, right?”
Azzi sighed. “Yeah. My hip was tight. I was sore.”
Caroline nodded slowly. “And… does she normally give out post-game massages? Like, is that her thing? Team bonding?”
Azzi threw her arm over her face. “I am not spiraling. You’re both just making it worse. It was a normal massage. Athletes get tight. Muscles need pressure. It’s not—”
“Sexual?” Caroline offered sweetly.
Azzi flailed. “It wasn’t. I mean—I didn’t mean to make it sexual. She said ‘relax’ and I just—my body was already—”
“Ready?” Jana said, grinning.
“I hate you,” Azzi muttered.
“Azzi, for real,” Caroline said, leaning forward. “I need you to apply some basic common sense here.”
Azzi narrowed her eyes. “That’s never a good start.”
“No, listen,” Caroline pressed. “Paige Bueckers, who is literally known for being emotionally unavailable and allergic to human intimacy, massaged you. With her hands. After going after the girl who laid you out. Which by the way, are you okay?”
Azzi blinked. “Wait, what?”
Caroline tilted her head. “What do you mean, ‘wait what’?”
“What did you just say?” Azzi asked, sitting up now.
“I was asking if you were okay,” Caroline said slowly. “Because that hit looked brutal—”
“No, before that. You said Paige went after someone?”
Caroline blinked. “Yeah. The girl who fouled you? Paige got in her face.”
Azzi froze.
“She didn’t—” she started, then stopped. “I didn’t see that.”
Caroline looked smug. “Well, she definitely saw you.”
“I got this,” Jana said, already grinning like she’d been waiting for someone to ask. “So, you go down—hard. Like, bounce-off-the-court, everyone-goes-‘oof’ kind of hard. And before the ref even blew the whistle, Paige was already next to you.”
“She ran over,” Caroline added.
“She crouched down,” Jana continued, full dramatic mode now. “Checked on you. And then the second you nodded, she stood up and turned around like someone just flipped a switch. She walked straight up to that girl.”
Azzi blinked. “Walked up to her?”
“Like full-on approached,” Jana said. “Got right in her face. Said something—couldn’t read her lips. Already spent an hour trying. But it wasn’t friendly. I know that much.”
Azzi opened her mouth to respond but couldn’t quite decide what to say. There were too many thoughts. Too many feelings. Most of them deeply unhelpful and all of them about Paige Bueckers.
Jana narrowed her eyes. “You didn’t know about that, did you?”
Azzi shook her head slowly. “No one told me.”
Caroline smiled. “Because you weren’t supposed to know.”
Jana grinned. “She didn’t do it to be seen. She did it because that’s what people do when they’re in love.”
Azzi covered her face. “Paige Bueckers is not in love with me. I feel like I’m just an annoying thorn in her side that she only tends to when she must.”
“Azzi,” Caroline said flatly, not even blinking. “She massaged your hip.”
“I was injured.”
“She worked her tired hands against your skin.”
“It was medical.”
“She told you to relax and you listened with your whole body,” Jana added, grinning. “Like a training command. Sit. Stay. Spread.”
Azzi let out a sound that might’ve been a scream or a sob. “I’m hanging up.”
And then she did. Not dramatically, not to make a point—just… abruptly. Like ripping off a Band-Aid made of shame and secondhand embarrassment.
She stared at the blank screen, heart still racing, breath shallow.But the real reason she ended the call had nothing to do with wanting her friends to shut up.
It was because she needed to see it. Needed to know if they were exaggerating. If they’d misread everything.
So she pulled up the game. Scrolled through the footage with trembling fingers and deeply wounded pride. And there it was.
Paige, on the court. Crouching beside her like it wasn’t even a question. Hand on her arm. Leaning in close. Saying something only meant for her.
Azzi remembered that.
But the camera caught everything. The way Paige’s expression shifted the second Azzi nodded. The way her body tensed—not in panic, but in resolve. Like someone had just flipped a switch.
And then she turned. Walked straight up to the girl who hit her. No hesitation. No dramatic flailing. Just calm, quiet, devastating focus.
She leaned in and said something. Azzi still couldn’t read her lips, but it didn’t matter. You didn’t need audio to understand what Paige Bueckers was saying with her eyes.
It wasn’t a warning. It was a promise.
Azzi sat back, pulse pounding like it had something to prove.
Because—why would Paige do that?
She’d seen plenty of people get laid out in a game. Hard hits. Cheap fouls. Collisions that made the whole bench wince. And Paige? She never flinched. Never interfered. Barely reacted unless it was her body that hit the floor.
She was all business. All control.
Until tonight.
Until Azzi.
And Azzi couldn’t stop turning it over in her head. Couldn’t make it make sense. Because Paige Bueckers didn’t do things like that. She didn’t rush over. She didn’t crouch down like she cared. She definitely didn’t confront players mid-game like she was ready to defend someone who wasn’t even hers to defend.
But she had.
And now the image was stuck—looping endlessly in Azzi’s mind. Paige’s hand on her arm. The look on her face. The way she turned and went straight to the girl who hit her like it wasn’t even a question.
Like the decision had already been made.
Azzi pressed her palms to her face and exhaled hard. Because maybe she was wrong. Maybe it was adrenaline or coincidence or some weird teammate loyalty thing she didn’t understand.
But maybe it wasn’t. And the worst part—the truly humiliating part—was how much she wanted it not to be.
And yeah, maybe it was the late hour getting to her. The way everything always felt a little blurrier around 2 a.m.—more dramatic, more dangerous, more true.
But still, she pulled out her phone.
Ignored the group chat (31 new messages, all of which were probably just Caroline and Jana sending increasingly cursed breakdowns of her downfall) and tapped on the thread with Paige.
Her fingers hovered. Just her name on the screen made her heart kick like it had something to say.
She hadn’t messaged her since the game. Paige hadn’t either. It wasn’t weird. It was fine. Normal.
Azzi stared at the blinking cursor like it might write the message for her.
What would she even say?
Thanks for defending my honor?
Appreciate you massaging my hip and telling me to relax like I wasn’t one exhale away from losing my mind?
Cool game tonight, btw?
She groaned. Fuck. She was so bad at this. At being casual. At being cool. She sat there for a minute but finally, forced herself to try.
thanks again for helping in the training room. pretty sure i’d still be struggling to walk if you hadn’t intervened lol
She read it once. Twice.
Felt the full body cringe of did that sound normal? too normal? not normal enough? Then hit send anyway. It was nothing. Just a thank you.
She set the phone down.
Picked it back up thirty seconds later.
Refreshed the thread like something might’ve changed in the time it took to blink.
It hadn’t.
Azzi tossed it across the bed. Then immediately scrambled to grab it again. Just in case it buzzed.
It didn’t.
She checked her Wi-Fi. Closed the app. Reopened it. Checked her volume. Just in case.
Nothing.
Eventually—at some ungodly hour somewhere between panic and denial—her eyes started to slip shut. Phone still in hand. Thumb resting over the screen like she might wake up mid-reply.
She fell asleep like that. Half under the covers, half mortified. Dreams a blur of gym lights, Paige’s hand on her hip, and her own traitorous legs obeying the word relax like it was gospel.
She woke up at 11:08 a.m., face stuck to the pillow, hair in her mouth, soul barely intact.
Her phone was on the floor, screen-down, battery clinging to life at 4%. She plugged it in, stomach lurching as the lock screen lit up.
One new message. From Paige. Sent at 6:02 a.m.
Azzi blinked at the screen, still half-asleep, brain not fully booted.
Paige Bueckers: why were you still awake at 2:30. you should get some rest.
Azzi, like a complete idiot, grinned at her screen.
Because Paige was just so herself. Blunt in a way that wasn’t mean, just maddening. Like she’d mastered the art of being distant and attentive at the exact same time. Like she could ruin you with one sentence and still somehow sound like she was helping.
Azzi typed back:
ironic seeing what time you replied
She tossed the phone onto her comforter and did her best impression of a functioning person: washed her face, brushed her teeth, stared blankly into the mirror like it might tell her what Paige actually meant by “you should get some rest.”
And then her phone buzzed.
Paige Bueckers: 6 am is when functioning adults rise
Azzi bounced on her toes, the kind of movement you make when you have too much energy and nowhere to put it. Like her body didn’t know what to do with this much attention from someone like Paige.
She typed:
Azzi Fudd: are you insinuating that i’m not a functioning adult?
Sent it before she could overthink it. Before she could spiral about tone or timing or whether it sounded too eager.
The reply came fast.
Paige Bueckers: you said it. not me.
Azzi stared at the screen, fighting a smile she absolutely did not have the emotional capacity to unpack.
She typed back before thinking it through:
Azzi Fudd: guess i’ll need someone to keep me in line then
Three dots appeared. Paused. Then disappeared again. Azzi stared at the screen until it went black.
Paige’s POV
There really is a special kind of humiliation reserved for waking up the morning after you got off to the thought of your 23-year-old rookie. Like, a whole new level of self-loathing. Built different.
And it only gets worse when that same rookie—wide-eyed, impossibly trusting—texts you innocently at 2:30 a.m., just to say thank you. For helping her. For showing up.
Because she trusts you.
Because she still thinks Paige is the responsible one. The composed one. The one who knows where the lines are and how to stay behind them.
Paige stared at the message for a solid minute, thumb hovering, heart doing that awful, traitorous stutter it only ever did for her now.
She typed something measured. Dry. Harmless.
why were you still awake at 2:30. you should get some rest.
It was condescending. She knew that. But it was better than what she actually wanted to say. Better than i can’t stop thinking about you or you’re making this impossible.
And then Azzi had the audacity to text back at 11 AM:
ironic seeing what time you replied lol
Paige had to sit there, phone in hand, trying not to picture Azzi wide awake and smiling at her screen. Thinking this was nothing. Just a check-in. Just a harmless thank you. Paige knew better. And that was the worst part—Azzi didn’t even realize what she was doing.
Didn’t hear the way her voice softened when she said Paige’s name. Didn’t notice how close she stood. How fast Paige had to look away whenever her shirt rode up or she stretched just a little too easily in front of her.
Which meant it was Paige’s job to hold the line.
Even if that line was already more suggestion than rule. Even if it was absolutely crumbling beneath her.
So when Azzi—sweet, clueless, 2:30 a.m. Azzi—replied with:
guess i’ll need someone to keep me in line then
Paige groaned out loud. A real, physical noise. Full body flinch.
She dropped her phone face-down on the dresser like it had personally betrayed her. Which, honestly, it kind of had. And then she did the only thing she knew how to do when her feelings threatened to boil over into something she couldn’t control.
She went to the gym.
Practice wasn’t for hours, but she needed to move. Needed to burn through the shame, the frustration, the need crawling under her skin like it had nowhere else to go.
It was either this or text something she couldn’t take back. And she wasn’t that far gone. Yet.
By the time her shoes hit the court, Paige had already run three miles.
Not because she needed to. Not because the trainers told her to. But because she had no idea what else to do with the restless, wired energy sitting just beneath her skin.
So she stayed in motion. Crossover. Step-back. Jumper. Repeat. She didn’t think, didn’t pause, didn’t look at her phone again, not after that text.
Guess I’ll need someone to keep me in line then.
She was still hearing it. Over and over. In Azzi’s voice. The kind of thing you say when you’re teasing—casual, harmless. Unless you were Paige. Unless you were the one trying to keep everything from spiraling out of control.
She sank another shot. And then, the doors opened. She didn’t look. Didn’t need to.
She felt it.
Azzi’s presence hit her like a warm draft, like trouble she’d asked for and now couldn’t send away. Paige kept her eyes on the basket. Shot again. Didn’t miss.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her—hair pulled back, hoodie on, dragging her feet a little like she hadn’t quite woken up all the way.
Azzi stepped onto the court. Looked at her.
Paige just nodded. Kept her headphones in. Didn’t break rhythm. Because anything else might’ve been too much. And today? She couldn’t afford to want anything more than distance.
A few minutes later, the gym doors creaked open again.
Bridget and Courtney walked in, laughing about something that had clearly started in the parking lot. Courtney had a smoothie in one hand and her shoes in the other.
“Yo,” Courtney called out. “You trying to run it before Coach gets here?”
“Already warm,” Paige said, catching the ball on the bounce. “Let’s go.”
Bridget jogged over. “Someone's wired."
“She’s been here since before sunrise,” Courtney added, mock-suspicious. “What are you running from, Bueckers?”
Paige shrugged. “Y’all.”
They laughed. Easy. Familiar. Comfortable.
She didn’t look at Azzi. Didn’t have to. She could feel her. At the edge of the court. Watching. Not saying a word.
They. Full court. Quick drills. Just enough structure to keep Paige’s body occupied and her mind from slipping. She passed. Cut. Caught. Shot. Over and over. And Azzi was still there.
Not in her lane. Not in her drill. But present.
She’d settled into a spot near the baseline, stretching, tying her shoes, doing the small things slowly. Waiting, maybe.
And then—
“Fudd!” Courtney called out, waving toward the sideline. “You joining or just supervising?”
Azzi stood, stretched out a little slower than necessary, then started walking over. Paige kept her eyes locked on the rack of basketballs.
“Come run this set with me,” Courtney said, tossing her a lazy grin. “Coach isn’t here yet, which means I get to bully you without consequences.”
Azzi gave a soft laugh, her voice lighter than Paige was ready for. “Sounds fair.”
And just like that, she was on the court.
Too close. Too casual. Like nothing had happened. Courtney leaned toward Paige as they moved into position. Lowered her voice.
“What is going on with you two?”
Paige didn’t flinch. Didn’t look. Just bent to tighten the laces on her already-tight shoes.
“Nothing,” she said flatly.
Courtney raised a brow. “Doesn’t look like nothing.”
Paige shook her head, already stepping away. “I need to get treatment on my ankle.”
She didn’t look back as she headed to the training room.
Didn’t stop. Didn’t glance at Azzi. Just walked like she had a purpose and like that purpose wasn’t escaping.
The room was quiet. Dim. She settled onto the table and propped her ankle up like it needed something more than a vague excuse.
She was halfway through breathing herself back into neutrality when she heard the door creak open.
Footsteps. Familiar.
“Hi.”
Paige stiffened.
Didn’t move at first. Just let the word sit there—quiet and devastating. Soft like it didn’t know what it was doing. Like it hadn’t already cracked something open inside her.
She turned slowly, just as the trainer walked in carrying the stem unit. Saved by timing. Sort of.
“Shit, P. I gotta grab one more thing. Sorry,” he muttered, already spinning on his heel and heading back out the door.
Of course. Paige exhaled through her nose, slow and tight. She could feel the universe laughing at her. She turned—and there she was.
Azzi.
Sweaty, flushed, with her practice jersey clinging to her sides in a way that felt aggressively unfair. Hair pulled back in that messy ponytail that somehow made her look softer, younger, more dangerous.
And those eyes.
Wide. Bright. Waiting. Paige’s throat went dry.
“Hey,” she said.
Quiet. Careful. A single syllable that somehow carried too much weight. Azzi’s smile tilted, small and easy. Too easy.
“Followed your orders,” she said, tugging one knee up onto the table. “So you don’t have to worry about working on my hip again.”
Paige blinked. Once. Twice. Because the sentence was harmless. Sweet, even. A joke, probably. But her brain tripped over working on my hip again and refused to let go.
She forced herself to nod. Neutral. Controlled. Like her heart wasn’t crawling up the back of her throat.
“Glad to hear it,” she said. Flat. Measured.
Azzi tilted her head, still watching her. “Look at that. I am a functioning adult.”
At that, Paige couldn’t help it—her mouth betrayed her. Just a little. The corner tugged upward. Because Azzi was so goddamn cute. Unfairly, recklessly cute. Even now. Especially now.
“One good decision,” Paige said, voice still dry, “a functioning adult does not make.”
Azzi just shrugged. “Gotta start somewhere.”
Paige shook her head, finally looking away.
The moment broke. Or maybe she just shoved it down hard enough to pretend it had.
The trainer returned, all business. Started the routine she knew by heart at this point—heat, stem, wrap, repeat. Paige stared straight ahead, jaw tight, hands resting too still on her thighs.
Beside her, another trainer began working on Azzi’s hip.
Movement. Shifting fabric. A low exhale.
Paige didn’t look. She would not look.
She looked. Choked.
Azzi rolled to one side. The way her shirt lifted just slightly. The stretch of bare skin—familiar now in a way it shouldn’t have been. In a way Paige had felt under her palms. Had dreamed about. Had gotten off to, shamefully, not even 12 hours ago.
She clenched her jaw.
Focused on the throb of pain. The low hum of the stim machine. Anything but the heat radiating from two feet away.
She kept her gaze fixed on the ceiling tile above her. Because she could hear her. Just off to the side. Azzi. Breathing steady. Shirt rustling. The faint squeak of the vinyl table under her.
And then, that sound.
A low, soft groan. Just a breath, really. But it wrapped itself around Paige’s spine and stayed there.
“Sorry,” Azzi said, voice light, a little embarrassed. “It’s just tight right there.”
Paige stared at the ceiling so hard her vision blurred. Because she knew exactly where “right there” was. Knew the slope of Azzi’s hip under her hands. Knew how her body tensed and then softened the second she muttered relax. Knew how Azzi's lashes fluttered when you hit that spot.
And the worst part? Paige had been thinking about it all night.
She clenched her jaw, her molars pressed so tight they ached. She could not look at her. But then another sound came—this one smaller, almost nothing. A wince disguised as a laugh. A quick inhale through her nose.
And Paige felt something snap, low in her stomach.
Azzi was lying five feet away on a training table, all flushed cheeks and bare skin, groaning as she got an injury worked on and Paige was supposed to act normal.
Supposed to just sit here, like she hadn’t jerked off to the memory of this exact moment. Like she hadn’t imagined pressing her mouth right there and not stopping. She curled her fingers into fists and dug her nails into her palms.
“Still tight?” the trainer asked.
Paige didn’t hear Azzi’s answer. Because her brain was busy short-circuiting. Fantasizing. Regretting everything.
If she made it out of this room alive, it would be by sheer force of will. God was real. And vindictive, apparently.
-----
Practice started. Went well.
Well, until coach blew the whistle and said:
“Bueckers. Fudd. Together.” And just like that, Paige was cursed.
Paige had been fine until that moment. Better than fine, actually. She’d been locked in—ankle taped, the exact right tempo thrumming in her veins. Her body felt good, her mind clear, her jaw unclenched for the first time all morning. She was breathing like a normal human person and not thinking about the exact pitch of Azzi’s voice when she’d groaned on the training table.
She was doing fine.
But now? Now Azzi was jogging toward her. Now Azzi’s ponytail was bouncing and her mouth was pink and her eyes were lit up like this was the best part of her day.
Like Paige hadn’t been ignoring her. Hadn’t spiraled alone in bed. thinking about the way Azzi’s thighs shifted under her palm when she whispered relax like a fucking degenerate.
“Ready?” Azzi asked, like the word didn’t mean a thousand different things depending on the context.
“Always,” Paige said.
And it sounded fine. But internally? She was a goner.
They lined up at half court. Shoulders brushed.
Paige felt it through her shirt. Through her skin. Through her entire goddamn bloodstream.
It was electric—annoyingly so. Like her body knew something she didn’t. Like the contact had rewired her brain chemistry.
Azzi stretched beside her, arms overhead first, then across her chest. Slow. Controlled. Her bicep flexed. Her shirt rose just a little, revealing the sliver of skin Paige knew way too well.
Her mouth was parted, soft. Her lashes dark. Paige looked away. Then looked back. Because she was truly a spineless little bitch.
She could still feel her. Yesterday. Azzi’s hip under her fingers. That patch of warm, bare skin. The way her breath caught when Paige had pressed just a little harder. The widening of her eyes. That look. Like Paige could’ve asked for anything and Azzi would’ve said yes.
Paige inhaled sharply, like that might erase the memory.
It didn’t.
“On me,” she muttered.
Azzi grinned. “As you wish.”
Paige wanted to die.
It was supposed to be a drill. Just one-on-one closeouts. Basic footwork. And yet, Azzi drove low. Hip dropped, shoulder dipped, back arched like she knew. Like she was trying to kill Paige with her body.
Paige’s reaction was a full second behind her brain. Her feet tangled. Her hand landed high—too high. Azzi spun and their bodies collided, chest to chest.
It was direct contact. Her forearm slid against Azzi’s ribs. Azzi’s hand grazed her collarbone. There was breathing. There was eye contact. There was no goddamn escape.
“I could’ve scored,” Azzi whispered, a little breathless.
Paige’s voice came out lower than intended. “Could’ve but you didn’t.”
Neither moved. Coach’s whistle pierced the gym like divine intervention.
“Switch sides!”
They stepped back, but Paige could still feel her. In her chest. In her palms. In her teeth. They reset.
Azzi on defense now. Paige attacking. She tried to focus. Swore to herself she would. But Azzi’s stance was wide. Solid. Eyes up. And when Paige drove, Azzi’s hand landed right at her hip—gripped her for a second too long. Right where Paige had touched her yesterday.
She nearly tripped. She pivoted, missed the footwork, hesitated just slightly and threw up a shot that bricked so hard the gym winced. It was possibly the sloppiest basketball she had played in her entire life.
Coach’s whistle blew again, sharper this time.
“Bueckers,” she barked. “You good?”
Paige blinked. “Yeah.”
Coach didn’t buy it. “Focus goes a long way. Don’t waste my time.”
It wasn’t just a callout. It was a warning. A reminder. That she was a professional athlete and not, in fact, a girl in love with her rookie teammate who currently smelled like sweat and vanilla shampoo and maybe sin.
“My bad,” Paige muttered, shaking her head and bending down to tie her already perfectly tied shoe.
She didn’t need to. But she needed something to do. Anything that wasn’t reaching for Azzi’s waist and pulling her in like they weren’t in the middle of a drill with thirty eyes on them.
Because if Azzi touched her one more time—if her fingers grazed her hip again, or if she smiled like that again, or if she breathed anywhere near Paige’s neck—she was going to combust. Publicly. Tragically. Hornily.
Or kiss her. Or both.
—-
Post-practice, Paige had made a beeline for the cold tubs.
Alone. That was the goal.
Silence. Numbness. A full-body shock to override the ache behind her ribs.
She’d even gone early, before the rest of the team usually wandered in pretending not to dread the ice. She settled in with a hiss, arms draped along the edge, headphones in.
And for two glorious minutes, it worked. Until the door opened. Bridget. Then Courtney.
Both notorious ice-bath avoiders. Both grinning like they weren’t about to ruin her last shred of peace.
Paige didn’t look at them, but she heard it—shuffle of footsteps, the unnecessary clearing of throats. The quiet that meant they were about to make it very known that they were here.
She kept her eyes closed. Counted backward from ten. Six. Three.
“I thought you hated these,” she muttered.
Bridget dropped her towel dramatically. “We do.”
Paige didn’t answer. Just shut her eyes again and tried to focus on the water. On the sting of cold crawling up her spine.
She heard the telltale slosh as Bridget and Courtney settled into their own tubs—loudly. Deliberately. Like they wanted her to know they were still there. Like the silence would get awkward enough she’d have to fill it.
And then, of course, a throat cleared.
Then another.
She peeled one eye open reluctantly. They were both staring. Smiling like this was a goddamn intervention.
“So,” Courtney said brightly, “how are you, Paige?”
Paige groaned. “We're not doing this.”
“Doing what?” Courtney feigned innocence. “Checking in on my emotionally repressed friend who avoided a rookie all practice and then bricked the one drill she’s usually automatic at?”
“I didn’t avoid anyone.”
Bridget snorted. “You nodded at her. Once.”
Courtney leaned her head back against the tub’s edge. “You avoided eye contact like it was contagious.”
“I was focused.”
“You were feral.”
Bridget held up a hand. “Actually, feral implies passion. You were like—dead inside. Robot Bueckers.”
“I was focused.” Paige ground out. again.
“On what? Putting as much distance between you and Fudd as possible?”
Paige groaned.
“Was it that obvious?”
Bridget gave her a look over the rim of the tub. “Bueckers, it was painfully obvious. Like, I started getting secondhand anxiety from watching you.”
Courtney nodded. “You damn near tripped over your own feet trying not to brush shoulders during warmups.”
Paige groaned again, leaned her head back, and closed her eyes like the fluorescent lights might burn the guilt out of her skull. “God.”
“Was it really that bad?” she muttered.
“Worse,” Bridget said. “At one point, Azzi looked so confused I almost gave her a hug.”
“She kept checking on you,” Courtney added. “Like she thought she’d done something wrong.”
That made Paige’s stomach flip—an ugly, slow-turning kind of guilt. “She didn’t.”
Bridget snorted. “Yeah, no kidding. That’s what made it so uncomfortable. Because we all saw her looking at you like you hung the damn moon.”
“And you?” Courtney said, brow arched. “You acted like eye contact was a crime. It was actually painful.”
Paige slid lower in the tub until the water kissed her jaw. “I just need some distance,” she muttered. “That’s all. Space is...clarifying.”
Bridget and Courtney looked at each other. Bridget didn’t even bother to hide the smirk.
“Right,” she said. “And grabbing her by the waist mid-drill was you...what? Establishing a boundary?”
Paige didn’t respond. Just took a deep breath and dunked her whole head underwater like it might wash away the truth clinging to her skin.
Azzi’s POV
She wasn’t spiraling.
She was just…thinking really hard. Rapidly. With a slightly elevated heart rate. And maybe the tiniest touch of fight-or-flight flooding her nervous system like a warning siren.
But that wasn’t spiraling. That was processing.
She sat on the edge of her bed, towel draped over her shoulders, hair still damp from the shower she’d taken Her phone was cold in her hands. The screen was black. Still.
No messages. Not from Paige. Not yesterday. Not the day before that. Not the day before that.
Apparently, Paige Bueckers had decided she didn’t exist anymore.
Not really. Not beyond the occasional head nod across the gym or a stiff smirk in passing, like Azzi was just another warm body in the facility. Teammate #12. A ghost with a jump shot.
Which meant one of two things:
One: Paige regretted everything. Every second. Every touch. Every breath between them.
Or two: Azzi had completely invented the intimacy of it all in her own head. The training room. The text thread. The quiet. The closeness. The way Paige used to look at her.
And if that was true—if it had all been one long, romantic hallucination—then she was even more unwell than she thought.
She flipped her phone over onto the nightstand and stared at the ceiling.
Okay. Maybe she was spiraling. Just a little.
Azzi exhaled and tried—truly tried—not to think about the way Paige’s hands had felt the day before. On her hip. Pressing down. Steady. Warm. Controlled.
Azzi had moaned.
God. She’d moaned.
And now Paige was ghosting her.
She buried her face in her towel. Let out a muffled groan. She was going to die in this bedroom. Just shrivel up into a husk of shame and longing and be swept out with the dust bunnies and the cheap furniture Paige had built for her.
Because maybe she had read it wrong. The closeness. The lingering touches. The 6 a.m. texts. Maybe all of that had just been Paige being…weirdly helpful. Or responsible. Or kind.
Maybe she was just a rookie, and Paige was a vet who had pity-massaged her and then decided she wasn’t worth the headache.
She stared back at her phone again. Still nothing.
God, she was spiraling.
The kind of spiraling that made your stomach twist and your brain invent increasingly stupid reasons why someone might hate you. Like maybe Paige saw the way her sock bunched in her shoe today and decided she was intolerable. Or maybe the hip massage had, in fact, been a professional act of pity and Azzi had made it weird by…existing.
Her phone buzzed beside her and her heart rocketed into her throat. She snatched it up before it even finished vibrating—like maybe it could be Paige.
It was not Paige.
It was Jana.
Jana: your building is ugly. they won’t let us in.
Azzi blinked.
Azzi: What?
Jana: i’m about to fight this guy. he’s just standing there on the other side of the door and won’t open it.
Caroline: What Jana is trying to say is that we would very much appreciate it if you’d come retrieve us. Before one of us ends up on the news.
Azzi scrambled off the bed so fast she nearly tripped on her own feet. Her whole chest flipped. The good kind.
She replied while pulling on a sweatshirt:
Azzi: omw right now. stay where you are. don’t fight the doorman.
Jana: again. no promises.
Azzi grinned.
The elevator dinged and Azzi came running. Hood up. Socks sliding slightly on the tile. She didn’t care.
The moment she saw them through the glass doors—Jana pacing dramatically, Caroline sipping from a very questionable gas station coffee cup—her entire body exhaled.
She threw the door open and nearly got tackled.
“You’re insane,” Jana declared, pulling her into the kind of hug that felt like coming home.
“You’re late,” Caroline added, but her smile gave her away as she tucked herself into the other side of the hug.
Azzi let her face fall into Jana’s shoulder for a second, just breathing them in.
“You guys didn’t tell me you were coming,” she muttered, voice muffled.
“That’s kind of the point of a surprise,” Jana said, wrapping her arms tighter.
Caroline snorted. “Also, we knew if we gave you time, you’d try to clean your apartment and then tell us not to come.”
“No I wouldn’t have,” Azzi said quickly—but her voice caught on the tail end, just slightly watery. And that was all it took. The lump rising in her throat. The weight of it all.
Because the truth was, she would have. She would’ve made excuses. Said she was tired. That she had film. That it wasn’t a good time.
Because it hadn’t hit her until just now—how lonely she’d been.
In a new city. In the league. Trying to act like she belonged when most days she still felt like a kid wearing someone else’s jersey.
Jana pulled her in again, no questions asked. “We missed you.”
Azzi nodded into her shoulder. “I missed you guys too.”
—--
She made it two hours without talking about it.
Two whole hours. Two glasses of wine. A pizza that was half gone and half cold. She even laughed—real, sharp, from-the-gut laughter—when Jana did her dramatic retelling of their freshman year mascot debacle.
But then Jana got up to pee.
And Azzi, like a traitor to her own resolve, let her head tip back against the couch and said, without even thinking:
“So…Paige’s been ignoring me.”
Caroline didn’t flinch. Just reached for the wine bottle and topped off Azzi’s glass like she’d been waiting.
“There it is,” she said. “Knew it was only a matter of time.”
“She won't look at me,” she said finally. “Not once during warmups. Not once during drills. Coach paired us together a few days ago and she acted like I was just—there. Just someone to get through.”
Caroline raised an eyebrow, but didn’t interrupt.
“And then once in the training room?” Azzi huffed a laugh, sharp and humorless. “She barely spoke. One word answers. Like I’d done something wrong. Which given I spread my legs like some eager slut, maybe I did but..."
Caroline winced sympathetically. “Yikes.”
“She nodded at me,” Azzi continued, growing more animated now. “Nodded. After everything.”
“Cold,” Caroline muttered. “Even for Bueckers.”
Azzi shook her head. “I don’t get it. She’s the one who offered to help. She’s the one who held my—” She cut herself off. Pressed her lips together. “And now she’s pretending I don’t exist.”
Caroline tilted her head. “Did something happen?”
“No!” Azzi said, too fast. “I mean—no. Not really. I just…texted her after everything. To say thank you.”
Caroline gave her a look. “And?”
“She answered! She was her weird, dry self. We even joked a little. But then? Nothing.”
Jana emerged from the bathroom right then, took one look at the scene and sighed. “You lasted longer than I thought.”
“She’s ghosting her,” Caroline explained.
“Paige?” Jana blinked. “Like, Paige Bueckers? Stoic, emotionally repressed, probably sleeps in all black Paige Bueckers?”
Azzi groaned, dropping her head into her hands. “She does not sleep in all black.”
Which only made both of them light up and fall into a fit of giggles. Jana’s laughter faded as fast as it came though. Her face snapped into something sharp, serious.
"She's actually ghosting you?"
Azzi nodded, "She hasn't looked at me in days."
“Fuck that.” Said like a threat. Said like a promise. Said like she was ready to fight a WNBA veteran on Azzi’s behalf.
Azzi blinked, taken aback. “Jana—”
“No, I’m serious. She does not get to flirt with you in the gym, touch you in the training room, and then spend the rest of the week ghosting you."
“I don’t think she meant to ghost me,” Azzi said quietly, even though her voice wavered. “She’s just…complicated.”
“No,” Jana said, sitting forward with the clarity of a woman delivering a sermon. “Texting you at the crack of dawn like some emotionally constipated father figure and then pretending you don’t exist? That’s not complex. That’s bullshit.”
Caroline nodded solemnly, like they were at church. “Amen.”
“So here’s what we’re gonna do,” Jana continued.“You’re gonna put on something tiny and morally questionable. We’re gonna go out. You’re gonna post. And she’s gonna see it. And she’s gonna suffer.”
“Ruin her peace,” Caroline added, already reaching for her makeup bag.
Azzi sighed, dragging a hand over her face. “This feels petty.”
“Exactly,” Jana said. “The best kind of therapy. there is”
a/n: title from 'open arms' by sza and travis scott.
so i just randomly got inspiration for a fic like this, but i promise to update 'love me til the movie's over...' asap.
enjoy almost 9k words of paige and azzi being stubborn as hell with everyone except each other :)
------
"you keep me open, i'm so devoted... to you."
*
Paige was inherently stubborn to a fault. People had told her that her entire life, and it wasn’t something she outwardly denied, it was just something she didn’t like to admit (hence the stubbornness).
Azzi, on the other hand, was even worse than Paige. At least that’s what Paige thought, because the brunette tried to act like she wasn’t just as headstrong. She was annoyingly good at pretending like she was ‘little miss innocent’ 24/7, that she wasn’t one of the most opinionated people Paige had ever met.
Their stubbornness showed up in different ways. Paige liked to be in control. She was also fiercely independent, never wanting anyone to help her with anything.
Azzi’s stubbornness was quieter, but just as strong. If she didn’t want to do something, there was no convincing her otherwise. Once her mind was made up, that was it.
One thing was for sure, though. They were stubborn with just about everyone.
Except with each other.
*
1. October 2021
Halloween was fast approaching, and Paige still hadn’t decided on a costume. She was never a huge fan of the holiday, she preferred the month of October to be dedicated to her birthday instead. She usually threw something together last minute, didn’t put too much thought into it, and called it a day.
Aubrey was the first to ask her if they could do a costume together, suggesting they be Bratz dolls.
“Absolutely not.” Paige shook her head with disgust, “No chance.”
“Why not? It’ll be cute, we could all do it.” Aubrey pushed, gesturing to the rest of the team scattered around the table they were eating at in the dining hall.
A few of the other girls agreed, deciding to make it a group thing. Paige, still stubborn as ever, refused. “I’m not being a fucking doll, ain’t no way.”
She looked across the table at Azzi, who had been surprisingly quiet throughout the exchange. She had warmed up so much more to the team compared to the summer, talking more, often vocalizing her opinion, and even being the loudest in the room sometimes.
When Paige caught her eye, Azzi only shrugged. “I don’t know, it could be cute.”
“C’mon, not you too!” Paige groaned.
“It’ll be fun! We’ll all be matching and can go out as a team.” Aubrey added, a dumb smirk on her face because she, along with the rest of the team, knew that Azzi being on board meant that Paige was seconds away from caving.
Paige’s eyes stayed fixed on Azzi, who tilted her head and softened her eyes. “Please, P?”
And there was the fucking nail in the coffin, Azzi adding the nickname she knew Paige couldn’t say no to. “Fine. But I’m not wearing crazy makeup or anything.”
(She absolutely would end up wearing way more makeup than she would have preferred, but Azzi had coaxed her into letting her do her eyeshadow, soft hands holding her still while she worked gently on her eyelids. It was totally worth it.)
“Man, I should have jus’ told Azzi to ask for me. Would’ve saved us so much time.” Aubrey teased, ducking just in time when Paige tried to smack her.
“Shut up.”
2. November 2021
Azzi’s first few months at UConn were confusing, to say the least. She was adjusting to college, her classes, being away from home, basketball, parties, new people. It was a lot, but she realized early on that she’d made the right choice. This was where she was supposed to be.
Where she stood with Paige, though, was the confusing part. They were never official before, but they were something more than friends. She wasn’t sure if they would fall back into old habits when she got to school, or if they would just be ‘normal’.
(Whatever that meant).
And then, the weekend before her birthday, everything changed. Azzi had been dancing with Caroline and some random guy she’d just met when she saw it; Paige making out with some girl in the middle of the kitchen in the disgusting frat house they were in. Her stomach dropped, bile rising in her throat at the sight.
She hadn’t planned on giving the guy any attention, and she certainly didn’t plan on hooking up with him. Jake, that was his name, wasn’t really her type, and she also hadn’t been getting with anyone, especially since she was under the impression that Paige hadn’t been either.
She felt dumb for thinking that, especially since nothing had happened between them in the almost three months since she’d gotten to UConn.
So, when Jake asked if she wanted to leave with him, Azzi said yes.
“I’m ‘gonna go with Jake,” Azzi said to Caroline, who looked at her like she’d lost her mind. “It’ll be fine, ‘m not even drunk and I’ll text you.”
Caroline shook her head, “Azzi, this isn’t a good idea. He’s known for being a douche.”
Azzi just shrugged, “I don’t care.”
She ignored Caroline’s protests, and then Dorka’s too, who had overheard them and agreed. “I have a bad feeling about this, Az,” Dorka said. “Just stay with us.”
But, she’d made up her mind. She’d lost sight of Paige a while ago, and since she was probably off doing God knows what with that girl, Azzi was going to do whatever she wanted with this guy.
“Ready?” Jake asked, and she nodded, following him through the crowd.
They were almost at the door when a strong hand caught her arm, stopping her in place. Azzi’s head whipped around, but she stilled when she saw bright blue eyes looking back at her.
“Where are you going?” Paige asked, voice rough.
“None of your business.” Azzi shot back, the harshness of her words clearly startling Paige, whose hand let go abruptly.
Azzi studied her, the tightness of her jaw, the worry in her eyes, the subtle wave in her hair from the humidity. She looked beautiful, and Azzi hated it.
“C’mon, I don’t have all day here,” Jake called, reminding her that she was supposed to be leaving.
“Can you give us a sec? Thanks.” Paige didn’t even look at him; she just grabbed Azzi again, this time by the hand, and pulled her to the hallway next to them. “Don’t go with him.” She said, voice low, her grip on Azzi’s hand tightening.
“You don’t get to tell me what to do.”
“Please, Azzi.” Paige’s tone softened, using the voice Azzi knew was reserved for her only.
“Is that girl staying over?”
“What?”
“The one you were making out with.”
Paige pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaling. “Is that what this is about?”
“What? No.” Azzi lied straight through her teeth, “I happen to like him.”
“Oh, do you?” Paige challenged, stepping closer.
Azzi bit her lip, “Mhm.”
“Don’t go with him. Please. For me.”
Azzi would do anything Paige told her to, and she knew this, but she also didn’t want Paige to think she was just another girl who was obsessed with her. Especially after witnessing whatever was going on with her and that random from earlier.
“Why?” She pushed.
Paige’s hands ghosted Azzi’s waist before she dropped them at her side again. “You know why.”
(And there was that unspoken exchange between them, the first of many throughout the years. Azzi could tell from the crease in Paige’s brow that she still wanted her, that she was terrified of losing her, terrified of starting something too quickly. And Paige could tell from the pout in Azzi’s lip that she never wanted to leave with that dumb kid in the first place, that she just wanted Paige’s attention, that she wanted her to herself. All from a wrinkle and an extended lip, they just knew.)
“Okay.”
3. February 2022
Valentine’s Day was coming up, and Azzi was dreading it. And not from a 19-year-old girl's normal dreading because she was single, it was actually the opposite, because she technically wasn’t single, but she and Paige also technically weren’t dating.
They hadn’t made any plans for the holiday, probably to avoid the awkward subject matter, but they’d be on a plane to Indiana, so Azzi planned on just ignoring it and spending the travel day together like normal.
So, that’s what they did, sitting side by side at the gate of their flight, taking turns playing ‘Hay Day’ on Paige’s ipad. She sat with most of her back against Paige’s front, the armrest of the chairs being the only thing separating them.
Then, a voice sounded through the speaker.
“This is an update for those traveling on Flight 212 to Indiana. The flight has been delayed due to weather conditions, and the new estimated departure time is 9:20 PM. We apologize for the delay and appreciate your patience. Please remain near the gate for further updates. Thank you.”
Collective groans sounded from around them, mostly from their teammates. “That’s three hours from now! So annoying.” Azzi whined, her head falling back to land half on the seat behind her, half on Paige’s shoulder.
Paige was, surprisingly, not complaining. If anything, she looked happy, a ghost of a mischievous smile looming on her face.
“What’s that look for?” Azzi asked, sitting up again and tossing her backpack to the ground. “You’re scaring me.”
“Let’s get dinner.” Paige presented, voice a little quiet as if she didn’t want to be heard.
“We probably all shouldn’t go, I mean, what if we miss an update about the flight - -”
“No, not everyone. Just you ‘n me.”
“What? Why?”
“Because y’know… what today is.” Paige tucked her hair behind her ear, and now that just wasn’t fair, because Azzi loved it when she wore her hair down, and she loved it even more when she brushed it back like that.
Azzi sighed, any fight she had left in her disappearing.
(She didn’t really know why she was fighting it in the first place, maybe because she was scared to be alone with her on today of all days, or maybe because she wasn’t scared).
“Fine. But it’s your treat.” Azzi smiled, straightening her sweatpants before standing.
Paige brought a hand to her chest, mouth agape, “Obviously, I’m paying. What kind of question even is that?”
“It wasn’t a question, actually, it was my demand for agreeing.” Azzi giggled, and Paige pushed her without any real force, her skin tingling from the contact.
“Damn, Paige. You ‘gonna let your girl talk to you like that?” Amari spoke from the airport floor, where she lay using her backpack as a pillow (which Azzi found disgusting and tried to lecture her about repeatedly).
Both girls whipped their heads in her direction, having zero clue that she was awake. “Did you just hear all that?”
“Yup. Now go enjoy your date.” Amari shooed them away, tugging her hood back up and putting her airpods back in.
“‘S not a date,” Azzi murmured, walking past the rest of the team and toward the rows of fast food places and airport restaurants.
“Could be a date.”
“Alright, can we not do this right now?”
“I’m jus’ sayin’. You said yes. To dinner. On Valentine’s Day.”
“Whatever,” Azzi mumbled, though she still found herself gravitating closer toward Paige, their arms brushing as they walked.
(It absolutely qualified as a date in Azzi’s mind. Especially after Paige paid extra for a table against the window so they could stare at the planes taking off, because she knew how that was Azzi’s favorite part of flying - - the watching. And, when they were finished, Paige stopped at one of the convenience stores that was selling singular roses. When Azzi came back holding it, the entire team snickered to themselves, but no one said anything. Azzi tucked it against her chest when they boarded, and made a makeshift vase from a plastic water bottle when they got to the hotel.)
4. December 2022
When Paige tore her ACL, everything changed. She became closed off, cold and distant, refusing to accept help from anyone. Except with Azzi. She cried into her shoulder, never pushed her away, turned to her when her fears became too overwhelming.
She had been attempting to take her first shower by herself, something that was proving not to be easy. Her knee had to be wrapped perfectly, she needed to use a God damn shower chair, and do all of this while stepping in and out of the shower without putting too much pressure on her leg. It was a lot, but she did it. She successfully showered on her own; all that was left was to get changed into pajamas.
What she didn’t account for was how much water would escape in the process of getting in and out, so as she walked toward the sink to grab the shirt and boxers she’d left for herself, she banana-peel slipped on the slippery tile, landing flat on her back.
She was fine, all things considered. She had managed to wrap her towel around herself before the fall, which cushioned her slightly. Her knee didn’t hurt any more than it usually did, the only thing that really bothered her was her wrist that she had stuck out to try and break her fall. And her ass.
The tumble certainly caused a rucus, Paige managing to knock over both of her crutches in the process. “Paige?” Jana’s voice sounded through the door, her concern palpable. Great, Paige had no idea anyone was even home, so now she had to deal with both the pain she was in and the embarrassment of the situation.
“I’m okay!” She called back, trying to sound convincing.
“What happened?”
“I slipped, but I’m fine!”
“What?” The door opened, and Jana’s eyes closed as soon as she processed the scene in front of her. Paige had managed to keep her towel on, but the position she was in was still compromising. She had been trying to keep her leg elevated, because if she lay it flat the pain was fucking excruciating.
“Bro, get out!”
“Can you at least let me help you up?” Jana blindly reached for Paige, to which she slapped her hand away.
“Bro, ‘m fine. Just go, please.” Paige practically begged, her embarrassment growing stronger the longer Jana stood there.
“Okay, okay.” Jana surrendered, stepping out and closing the door behind her. “Should I get Azzi?”
“No, you definitely should not get Azzi.”
She was extremely grateful for Azzi’s help throughout this entire gruesome process, but she had done enough for her. Plus, Paige needed to gain some of her independence back for her own sanity, so she was determined to get back up on her own.
The problem was she still had the plastic wrap that covered her brace, which was doing its job at not getting the brace wet from the numerous puddles that had somehow formed on the ground, but it made it extremely tricky for Paige to try and stand. She also couldn’t get her crutches to stand up straight for support, them falling over each time she tried to hold them up. And, the sink was too high for her to try and grab it and lift herself.
Just as she was about to accept defeat and sleep on the bathroom floor for the night, a soft knock sounded. “P, ‘you okay? It’s just me.” Azzi’s voice soothed Paige instantly, which only annoyed Paige more, because she truly wanted to figure this out without her help.
“Bro, I told Jana not to get you.”
“She didn’t. I came myself to check on you and she told me you were still in here.” There was a pause before she continued, “Are you still on the ground?”
“Maybe,” Paige mumbled reluctantly.
“Can you please let me help you?”
Paige considered her options, and ultimately realized she’d way rather sleep on Azzi’s chest than a sopping wet bathroom floor, “Okay.” The door opened from above her, and Paige watched as Azzi brought a hand to her mouth, stifling a laugh. “Nah, I changed my mind. Ain’t no way you’re laughing at me right now, bro.”
“I’m sorry.” Azzi took a deep breath, still grinning “It’s not funny, I know. I’m tryna stop.”
Paige caved, a small smile forming. “It’s a little funny.” (That was a lie, she did not find this amusing at all, but Paige had learned years ago that whenever Azzi laughed at something, she physically couldn’t stop herself from laughing too.)
“Okay, I’m gonna grab these first,” Azzi spoke mainly to herself, reaching over Paige to lift the crutches that had fallen beside her. She laid them against the door before turning and holding out her hands. “Here, just go slow, ‘kay?”
Paige just nodded, accepting Azzi’s extended arms, allowing herself to be lifted upright. Her towel fell in the process, but she had been through enough humiliation to care. “Aw, P, you’re already bruising,” Azzi said, fingers ghosting on Paige’s lower back.
Paige turned to look in the mirror at the sight, and sure enough, black and blue spots were forming on her lower back and some pretty much on her ass. “Yeah, and not the good kind.”
Azzi just shook her head, starting to dry Paige with the towel. Then, she grabbed the tshirt Paige had left for herself off the counter, holding the bottom of it open, “Arms up.”
“I can dress myself,” Paige mumbled, but she listened, sticking her arms through the holes as Azzi gently pulled it over her.
“Sure, you can.” Azzi teased, bending down to take the wrap off of Paige’s brace. Paige watched in pure adoration as Azzi meticulously and carefully unravelled it, then grabbed Paige’s underwear. “Hold my shoulder.”
Paige did just that, leaning most of her body weight against Azzi below her to step through. They repeated the process with her pajama pants, only having one misstep when Azzi started pulling the pants up too early, Paige’s foot not all the way through. “Bro, if I go down again, I’m takin’ you out with me.”
“Sorry, that was my bad.” Azzi handed Paige her crutches, head tilted to the side, “In the future, can you just let one of your roommates help you?”
“What’re you sick o’ me or something?” Paige tried to pass it off as a joke, but deep down, she knew if Azzi said that was true, she’d probably die right then and there.
The brunette ran her hands across Paige’s sides, “Never.” She relaxed a little, “I just don’t get why you only let me help.”
Paige shrugged, “I trust you.”
“You don’t trust them?”
“I do. Y’know what I mean.”
Azzi nodded, kissing her forehead, “You also can’t say no to me.”
“That’s… mostly true.” Paige laughed, knowing she couldn’t even deny it at this point.
They joined the rest of the team that had gathered in their common room, watching ‘Daddy’s Home 2’ to get in the Christmas spirit. Jana rolled her eyes when she saw them, “‘Course you let Azzi help.”
“Whipped,” Aubrey muttered in agreement. Paige ignored them, just sat in the recliner chair that had kindly been left vacant for her.
(Azzi slid in next to her and they fell asleep like that. The next day they opened their phones to both Jana and Nika sending pictures of them sprawled across the recliner to the team group chat, somehow sleeping through the teasing around them.)
5. January 2023
The beginning of January found Paige desperately trying to keep up with the team as they made their way around New York, having a few hours before their bus left for Storrs. They were walking to some restaurant that Dave Portnoy had reviewed, but this was proving to be extremely challenging for Paige, despite it only being a few blocks away.
Aaliyah had offered to carry her, but Paige had denied, insisting that she could make it there by herself. But her arms were burning, and her crutches were beyond hurting her underarms, and her knee was really starting to act up.
“Just need a sec, ya’ll keep going,” Paige muttered as she stopped, moving her crutches so that she could stretch a little.
Azzi stopped too, arms crossed with an annoyed huff. “Will you just let someone carry you?”
“No way, I’m not a baby. ‘N, what would I do with these?” She gestured toward her ‘fucking annoying’ crutches as if it was obvious.
Azzi took them from her, “I’ll carry them. Can you jus’ let Aaliyah give you a piggy-back?” She bit her lip, and combined with her pleading look, Paige folded faster than she’d ever actually admit aloud.
“Okay.”
Azzi turned, shouting to the group who was about to cross the street, “Wait! Aaliyah!” When they made eye contact, Azzi gestured for her to come back, laughing as she started dramatically springing toward them. “P said she’d let you give her a piggyback.”
“Hmm, I wonder what changed your mind?” Aaliyah teased, but there was no malice to it. She squatted below Paige, who reluctantly jumped a little to land on Aaliyah’s back. “Am I hurting you?” Aayliah asked as she adjusted her grip on the blonde’s legs.
“Just my dignity.”
“Oh, that’s been gone.” Aaliyah fired back, squealing when Azzi smacked her in the arm in response. “What was that for?”
“For being annoying.”
“She’s annoying.”
“Chill on me, bro.” Paige huffed from above her.
“F’real.” Azzi reiterated, and Paige had to look away so she couldn’t see the smile forming from two simple words. God, the effect this girl had on her.
(Surprisingly, no one made fun of Paige for the piggyback ride, they were just grateful that she had finally accepted some help. Nika pulled Azzi aside before they got back on the bus, thanking her for using her ‘ways’ to make that happen, to which Azzi just rolled her eyes. Paige lay on Azzi’s shoulder for the entire bus ride home, not even moving when she started playing chopsticks with Ines, who was right across from her.)
6. May 2023
Paige was last-minute invited to some charity gala in LA, one that only legit athletes or pretty well-known people were attending. It was still hitting Azzi, just how much the world had its eyes on Paige, so when she saw the guest list, her jaw quite literally dropped.
“Alex Morgan? Oh my gosh, P, you have to get a picture with her, I love her.” Azzi said as she scrolled on Paige’s phone, her chin rested on a bony shoulder.
“How about you tell her yourself?”
Azzi sat up at this, confusion etched in her face. “What d’you mean?”
“Come with me,” Paige whispered, hyper aware of her teammates who were just in the other room, only semi-distracted by the video game they were playing. Azzi had cooked for her that night, including green beans, which she literally hand-fed Paige to make sure she ate them.
(Later Paige would admit that she totally did that on purpose, and that she actually didn’t mind green beans compared to most other vegetables.)
When Azzi stayed silent, “I get to bring someone, and I ‘wanna bring you. Come with me.”
“You don’t have to, I was just sayin’ that cause - -”
“No, I want you to. Please?” She tilted her head, eyes wide beneath her glasses.
Azzi couldn’t help but lean forward and kiss the girl, pearly-white teeth flashing when she pulled back. “Um, of course!”
“You’re such a dork.”
“Shut up, I’m excited.”
“You ‘wanna see what I’m wearing?” Paige asked, taking her phone back. She turned the screen to show a light blue blazer her team had picked out.
(To which she casually mentioned that she chose this over the black one her stylist had wanted because she knew how much Azzi liked her in blue).
“Wait, I need to find somethin’ to wear.” Azzi tried to think this through, knowing she would need something nice, despite not having the same resources Paige did, such as a huge team or a stylist. (Years later when she finally did get a stylist, she still prioritized what Paige chose instead.)
They made a plan for Paige to take her to an outdoor mall that was about an hour away, but it was the only thing close with variety and actual decent options. They had a little more than 24 hours before their flight, which was 100% stressing Azzi out, but she trusted Paige to find something perfect.
She was walking in the direction of Paige’s apartment after her last class when she got a slightly concerning text.
Paige
baby i totally forgot i have the fitting for the coach shoot today
i’m sorry
Azzi stopped dead in her tracks, anger building at the disorganized brain of her girlfriend (she would never get used to that part of Paige, no matter how long they knew each other).
Azzi
fuck what do i do
Paige
you can take my car if u want and then ft me for help?
i’ll make sure i can use my phone n answer u
Azzi had to re-read the text several times to make sure her brain wasn’t playing tricks on her. Paige had just gotten this car, a brand-new Audi that she was extremely protective of. All of their teammates had asked at least once to drive it, and every time she said no. Granted, Azzi had never asked, but that was because Paige drove her everywhere already, and she preferred not to be the one driving.
Azzi
r u sure??
Paige
im sure just pls be careful
spare key is in my desk drawer
Three dress stores and two jewelry shops later, Azzi finally had a full look put together. It took up a majority of the afternoon, and Paige certainly didn’t make the process easier, being way too picky about finding a dress that complemented her suit.
When she got back to Paige’s, a few of their teammates were already there, lounging around on their phones. Azzi made her way over to the loveseat, plopping down onto Paige’s lap with a dramatic sigh.“Hi.”
“Someone’s tired.” Paige teased, poking her side, and almost on cue, Azzi let out a loud yawn. “You’re so cute when you yawn.” Paige burrowed her head into Azzi’s neck, leaving sporadic kisses on her collarbone.
Get a room,” Aubrey grumbled from the kitchen. They both ignored her.
“Yeah, that took a lot outta me,” Azzi mumbled. “At least I can sleep in tomorrow.”
“You have my keys?” Paige asked. Azzi nodded, reaching into her bag and handing them over. Paige slipped them casually into her pocket.
“Wait.” Ice abruptly sat up from where she had been lying on the couch, “You let Azzi drive your car?”
Azzi giggled as Paige groaned, dragging a hand dramatically down her face. “I knew this was coming.”
“Are you serious? You won’t let us drive it, but you let her? The worst driver out of everyone?” Amari agreed, the rest of the girls adding in similar remarks.
Azzi huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “I am not that bad, guys.”
Paige chuckled, “Az, the reason you had to take my car was ‘cause you totalled yours. ‘Don’t exactly have the best record.”
“Holy shit,” Ice muttered, half laughing, half exasperated. “She’s so whipped she even knows Azzi’s a terrible driver but still let her.”
“Well, it was fine, ‘cause nothing happened to it!” Paige tried to lower her voice, but everyone still heard her anyway. “Nothing did happen, right?”
“No! You guys are so annoying.” Azzi stood, grabbing her bag, looking only at Paige, “I’m going to my bed, you can come join me if you’re ‘gonna be nice.” She left after that, not saying goodnight to anyone else.
“P, are you for real?” Aubrey pushed once the door closed behind Azzi.
Paige sighed, standing up from the love seat. “It was a one-time thing, it’s jus’ cause I fucked up and forgot I couldn’t take her.”
“So on a normal day, you wouldn’t let her?”
“Fuck no.”
(This was absolutely not true. Not even a month later, Paige let Azzi take her car to pick up her friend from the airport, who was visiting during summer training. They all gave her shit for it, but she didn’t care, especially when the car had come back magically cleaned and with a full tank of gas. She kissed Azzi on the head and let her keep the spare after that.)
7. December 2023
Azzi loved Christmas. It was her favorite holiday; she loved the lights, the movies, the food, being with her family. She loved all of it.
Never did she think at 21 years old, she’d be dreading the day. Tearing her ACL wrecked everything, and though she did her best to stay positive like she had the first time around, it was getting harder to pretend like she wasn’t utterly devastated.
She had the option to spend the holiday at home in its entirety this year, compared to everyone else who only had a few days off before having to return to practice. Still, she decided she didn’t want to go home. Her parents were distraught to hear this, to say the least, but she told them she wanted to spend as much time as she could with the team before she started her recovery at home.
Telling Paige went differently than she thought it would, “What do you mean you're ‘not going home?’”
“I just don’t want to, okay?” Azzi said, her eyes glued to the laptop playing ‘Holidate’ across from them.
Paige shuffled so she was sitting upright, her hand rubbing soft circles on Azzi’s arm. “Az, you should be with your family.”
“I said I don’t want to! I don’t know how I’d even get home, anyway. And I’m not ‘gonna make my dad come get me.”
Azzi watched as Paige bit her lip in concentration, the way she always did when she was deep in thought. And then, “I’ll drive you.”
“What? No, you’re ‘gonna miss your flight if you drive me. That wouldn’t work.”
Paige exhaled, her eyes flicking between Azzi’s face and her hand that had found its way on Paige’s bent knee. “Well, what if I didn’t go home? If I just stayed with you guys?”
“That’s sweet o’ you to offer, but I swear it’s okay. Ice and Jana will still be here, I’ll be fine.”
“Please, Azzi.” She spoke so softly it completely threw Azzi off guard; she hadn’t heard her voice that vulnerable since Paige tore her own ACL a little over a year ago.
She thought about it, thought about seeing her family, about spending her first Christmas with Paige. Of letting her give up her holiday just to make her happy. “But what about your family?”
“My dad and Drew will be here in a week for our game, anyway. They’ll understand.”
(Drew ended up throwing a temper tantrum and facetimed Paige for the entirety of Christmas morning while he opened his gifts).
Azzi sighed, tugging Paige down by her arm. “Okay.” Then, she laughed. “Can’t believe you just invited yourself to the Fudd family Christmas.”
“Please, if anything, I know they’d rather me there than you.”
8. March 2024
Azzi was finally off crutches, able to move around much more efficiently, and cleared to start physical therapy. So, that’s what she would do when the team practiced, she’d meet with the trainer and start low-impact workouts, and once she finished she would sit in on practice, usually working the scoreboard during scrimmaging to keep busy.
She’d noticed the night before that there was something off about Paige, but she hadn’t pushed. She was quiet during film, abnormally quiet, and only spoke when spoken to. Later, at their team hangout, she’d been the same way, sticking close to Azzi and barely engaging with anyone else.
She’d even asked if they could go to bed early and skip out on playing Fortnite with the team, which was wildly out of character. Azzi had left before Paige woke that morning, carefully slipping out of her hold and leaving a kiss on her shoulder before she headed out.
Now, watching Paige practice, she could tell something was seriously off. Her shot wasn’t landing, the ball had been stolen from her twice in a row, and she just seemed sluggish. During a water break, Nika came over to where Azzi sat.
“She’s been off all morning,” Nika said. “You know what’s up?”
“I’m not sure,” Azzi admitted. “But yeah, definitely something.”
They made a plan to investigate further when practice was over.
But then Paige had missed a wide-open lay-up during a fast break, and she just lost it. She rebounded it herself after the ball had gone out of bounds, and chucked it against the wall as hard as she could. “Fuck!”
The gym went silent after her outburst, the girls on the court all frozen.
“You’re done for the day.” Geno spoke calmly but firm, a voice they had learned to fear even more than his yelling.
Paige’s face fell, “No, I’m sorry. I’ll be chill now, I swear.” She pleaded, and Azzi could see the faint quiver in her lip that meant she was on the verge of tears.
“No. You’re done. Go do an ice bath and take the rest of the day. You need a break.”
Paige didn’t argue after that, she just walked toward the locker room with her head held low.
When practice was done and the team retreated back to the locker room, Paige and her things were already gone. Azzi checked her phone and was a little relieved to see that Paige had at least texted her.
Paige
im lifting upstairs if u want to wait
otherwise have caroline drive u home
Azzi
ill wait i need to stretch w josie anyway
Azzi was about to find the trainer when Geno’s office door opened, “Ah, just the girl I was looking for. Can you come in for a minute?”
Azzi nodded, assuming he wanted to check in on her recovery. She sat down across from him at his desk, wincing when she sat a little wrong.
“How’s the knee?”
“It’s okay, still a work in progress.”
“Well, I’m very impressed with your recovery so far. You’re moving at a much faster pace than I’ve really ever seen.”
Azzi smiled, and although she was happy to hear those words coming from her coach, she could tell there was something he wasn’t saying. “Is everything okay?”
Geno sighed, leaning into his desk. “I’m worried about Paige.” And there it was. Azzi was used to this by now, her teammates or coaches checking in with her about Paige. She didn’t mind; she knew they were coming from a place of concern, but most of the time she gave vague answers, not wanting to overstep. She knew Paige would turn to them when she was ready.
“Yeah, I’m not really sure what that was about today.” This was mostly true because Paige hadn’t outright said what was wrong, but she knew it was about the team. About how they were struggling, and how she took on all of that blame herself.
There was a pause before he continued, “I want her to see a sports psychologist.”
Azzi frowned, “She talks to the counselor here like the rest of us. Isn’t that the same thing?”
“Sort of,” Geno said. “But I think she could benefit from someone who specializes in mental health and athletics. I’ve recommended it before, but when I brought it up to her, she flat-out refused.”
This was news to Azzi, considering she hadn’t even known that conversation had taken place. It left her a little uneasy, realizing this was probably supposed to fall under some kind of confidentiality. (Technically, it did. But in reality, almost no team in any sport had ever fully followed those guidelines.)
“Can you just try talking to her?” Geno asked. “I think it could really help.”
“Why me?”
“You know why. She’s one of the most high-strung players I’ve ever coached, but she always listens to you.” Azzi obviously knew this, and she figured her coaches had picked up on that too, but hearing it out loud was a whole other thing.
Azzi swallowed, hands twisting in her lap. “I’ll try, but I can’t promise anything.”
They talked briefly about travel schedules and working her PT into away trips before her phone buzzed again.
Paige
all done ill be in the car whenever ur ready
She left after that, once again saying she’d try her best. When she opened the door from the gym, she stopped short. It was snowing, and one thing about Azzi was that she normally loved snow, but she could already see the black ice forming. Which meant very dangerous terrain for a torn ACL.
She reached for her phone to call Paige, but before she could, Paige’s car pulled up in front of her. “Don’t move!” Paige called, jumping out and crossing the icy sidewalk. She wrapped an arm around Azzi’s waist and guided her to the car.
“Paige, it’s like two feet.”
“I don’t care.” Paige opened the passenger door, not moving until Azzi was fully seated.
It was quiet at first, just Paige’s playlist playing through the speakers. She reached forward and took Paige’s hand that had been resting on the gear shift, interlocking their fingers so they rested near the center console.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Paige breathed out eventually, eyes still on the road.
“Can you talk to me about it?” Azzi asked, trying to keep her voice even, though her grip on Paige’s hand tightened without her even meaning to.
“I’m just feeling… low. Overwhelmed, too.”
“Have you thought about talking to someone?”
“Like who?”
Azzi paused, her thumb tracing against Paige’s. “A sports psychologist, maybe.”
“He talked to you,” Paige said, not as a question, but almost a realization.
“He’s just worried ‘bout you,” Azzi said gently.
“Well, I’m an adult,” Paige muttered. “And I don’t want to do it, so…” Her voice trailed off.
“What if you just tried once? If you hate it, you don’t have to go back. But maybe just try it out?” Azzi bit her lip, scared of what the response would be.
Paige exhaled, slowing the car when they reached a red light. “You really think I should?”
“It could help. You never know.” Then, Azzi went for the jugular. “I hate watching you struggle, and clearly something has to change.”
Paige was quiet for a long moment before finally nodding. “Alright. I’ll try it. But I’m not promising it’ll be a regular thing.” (It ended up becoming a regular thing even throughout her career in the W. It also became one of the many things she’d owe Azzi for the rest of their lives).
(When Azzi told Geno she said yes, he just chuckled and asked how much convincing it took. When Azzi said ‘not much,’ he only laughed harder.)
9. June 2024
The bar in Florida was packed, most of the team that had come on the trip making their way through sweaty bodies to find a spot to sit. They’d been out for a while, all of them way past the point of tipsy, especially Paige.
Contrary to popular belief, Paige and Azzi weren’t ones to show PDA, especially in public. Around their friends and family, it was different; that was where Paige was known to have absolutely zero personal space between her and Azzi.
In public was usually the opposite. Both of them kept to themselves, for fear of being seen, and also because it just didn’t feel right to them. Azzi initiated more contact in public, a head on a shoulder, a subtle hand hold, or sitting with their thighs pressed together. And although she never rejected these forms of contact (if anything, she loved them), Paige never initiated like that.
Except for when she was drunk. Tonight in particular, Paige was all over Azzi, her hand never once leaving the small of her back where the skin between her tank top and jean skirt was exposed. She’d lean over every few minutes, kissing Azzi’s shoulder, collarbone, neck, jaw; basically everything but her face.
Now, sitting down, Paige tugged Azzi onto her lap, and even though she pretended to complain, Azzi’s heart soared at the action. Paige’s fingers drummed on her thigh as their friends debated whether they should go to Taco Bell or McDonald’s.
“Or, and hear me out…” KK spoke up, a mischievous look in her eye. “Let’s go get tattoos?”
“Bro, you're a baby. You’re too young to get a tattoo.” Azzi laughed, adjusting in Paige’s lap when her fingers started to trail a little too high. She flicked Paige in the shoulder when she laughed at the movement.
“I’m literally at a bar with you right now.”
“Yeah, ‘cause Paige paid the bouncer.” Nika teased.
(This was true, Paige had to pay the guy $100 to let KK in because her fake was so bad.)
This was the, very warranted, response from the team, who knew Paige was notoriously against getting a tattoo herself. She didn’t care if anyone else did, in fact she had been jokingly telling Azzi to get a ‘tramp stamp’ for years.
(This wasn’t really a joke and years later Azzi got one just for her, a small heart right under her breast. Paige cried when she showed her.)
“Nah, ‘m fine. If we all do it, I’ll do it.” Paige said, taking another sip from her drink.
Nika agreed, “Okay, yeah. If we all do it together, I’ll do it.”
One by one, each girl agreed, leaving it to just Azzi, who had been silent thus far. It wasn’t that she didn’t want one, she’d had plans to get a couple actually, but she was also notoriously indecisive. She’d made a pact with herself that once she had the idea for a tattoo, she had to wait one year to make sure she’d still like it.
“Baby?” Paige turned her head to look up at her, “You in?”
Azzi sighed, avoiding the stare of her teammates. “I don’t know.”
“We’ll get it somewhere hidden. Like a lip-tat, I promise CD won’t see it.” Nika pleaded with her, backing up Paige.
She wasn’t worried about anyone seeing it, or even about CD (although she threw a fit when the girls inevitably showed her), but more so about not liking it herself.
“C’mon Fudd, it’s all of us or none of us,” KK added, which only made Azzi panic a little more.
“Hey,” Paige placed her hand on top of Azzi’s, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. Don’t jus’ do it ‘cause everyone else wants to.”
“But you want to,” Azzi whispered, attempting to shield the conversation from her teammates.
“Not if you don’t.” And even though she wasn’t trying to convince her, this somehow worked on Azzi. The fact that she didn’t push, that she offered her an out, understood her; it all made her want to say yes.
(Later Paige admitted she did this on purpose, her drunk mind even knowing exactly how to get Azzi to give in to her.)
“Okay. Let’s do it.”
That was how they all ended up getting their numbers tattooed on their lip, and it ended up being one of the team’s most memorable nights together. Totally worth it.
(The next morning Paige woke up, mumbling about her mouth hurting. ‘Maybe from the tattoo, dummy.’ Azzi laughed from next to her.
She watched as Paige’s eyes widened, ‘That wasn’t a dream?’ She ran into the bathroom, gasping when she got to the mirror. “Babe! How could you let me do this?’
‘Let you do this? You’re the one who had to convince me!’
‘My dad’s ‘gonna kill me.’
‘He won’t see it unless you show him, you’re fine.’
‘He’ll be able to sense it!’
‘P, you’re so dramatic.’
‘I’m never getting another one of these.’ )
(That was also a lie, years later Azzi got a ‘5’ tattooed on her ring finger, and Paige got a ‘35’ for whenever they played and couldn’t wear their rings. Also Paige’s idea.)
10. May 2025
The aftermath of the entire month of April still sat with them. Everything was changing; they’d finally won the natty, Paige went number one; everything they had been working toward, they’d finally gotten.
The final night out in Storr’s was bittersweet, and Azzi was using all of the strength she could muster not to show the emotions she’d been feeling. Paige was on cloud 9, dancing with everyone, taking shots, posing for pictures with their friends.
And Azzi watched it all, sadness blooming in her chest as she thought about how this was the last of everything. The last of them living in the same state, their last night out in the college town that changed the trajectory of their lives.
Caroline stayed by her side, extra concerned after Azzi had broken down in front of her the night before. She wanted Paige to soak up every moment, this was supposed to be the best time of her life, the last thing she needed to be worried about was her needy and emotional girlfriend.
“You doing okay?” Caroline asked when she came back with their drinks, sitting on the stool beside her.
Azzi nodded, swallowing the rising unsteadiness in her voice, “‘m fine.” She took a sip, her eyes finding Paige again. “I mean… look how happy she is.”
Paige was dancing with Nika, who had ‘reluctantly’ agreed to come out for the night, her arm draped around the Croatian’s shoulders. Her smile could light up the room, her cheeks were flushed, and she sang along to the Mariah Carey classic that was blaring throughout the bar.
Then, Paige turned her head, catching Azzi’s eye, and she swore time froze. Her gaze softened, and her smile somehow got impossibly wider. She winked in Azzi’s direction before being ushered away by more of the team.
“Damn, I’m ‘gonna miss seeing that.” Caroline chuckled, twisting the straw in her drink.
“Miss seeing what?”
“You and Paige having you’re, like, telepathic conversations. Looking at each other like there’s no one else in the room. All of that.” Caroline’s words were kind, and on a normal night, Azzi would just roll her eyes and say she was seeing things (even though she 100% knew what she was saying was true).
But tonight, for some reason, those words were the thing that finally made her break.
“I need air,” Azzi said abruptly, ignoring Caroline’s calls for her to come back. She weaved her way through the crowd until she reached the back of the bar, relief hitting her instantly the moment she stepped outside. It was bordering on summer, so it wasn’t too cold, but there was a significant difference between the stifling air in the bar and the freshness outside.
She sat on the curb, head resting in her hands. She let the tears fall now, her voice cracking a little when she gasped for air. She’d perfected how to silently cry years ago, something any oldest daughter can relate to, not wanting anyone in her house to know she was crying, or not wanting to cry in front of her brothers.
But this was far from silent; these were choked sobs that she couldn’t hold back anymore.
“Azzi?” She knew instantly it was Paige, which only made her cry harder. “Fuck, Az,” Paige said, more gently now that she was beside her. The gravel crunched as she sank down on the curb, one arm slipping around Azzi’s back to pull her in. Azzi’s body melted into her side, her chest heaving as the sobs slowed into quieter tremors.
Paige didn’t say anything at first, just placed delicate kisses on Azzi’s hairline, her arm rubbing gently against Azzi’s side, contrasting the firm grip her other arm had on her waist. “Just breathe, baby.”
Azzi took a shaky breath, lifting herself upright a little. Her face was blotchy, eyes red and glistening in the dim streetlight, but she’d calmed some. “I’m sorry,” she managed, her voice raw. “I’m ruining your last night. You should go back inside.”
Paige didn’t move, her hand finding Azzi’s knee and squeezing, “I don’t care ‘bout being inside, Azzi. I want you to tell me what’s goin’ on.”
Azzi finally met Paige’s eyes, and that's when she realized she’d been crying too, her blue eyes now rimmed with red. “You know why.”
Paige exhaled, her breath catching before she brought both hands up to cup Azzi’s face. Her thumbs swept along Azzi’s damp cheeks, wiping tears that kept coming anyway. “We’re gonna be okay,” she said quietly, voice steady. “I’ll make sure of that.”
“I know we will. I’m just ‘gonna miss this. Being here with you. Our lives like this. It’s all about to be gone.” She took one of Paige’s hands from where it rested on her face, interlocking their fingers instead. “I wish things didn’t have to change, ‘s all.”
“Me too.” Paige rested her head against Azzi’s, and for a moment, they just breathed in one another. “I thank God every day that you gave in to my nagging and came here.”
“I did not give in! I made that decision all on my own.” Azzi sniffed, laughing through her tears.
(This was not true, and both of them knew it.)
“Whatever you need to tell yourself.” Paige smiled, pressing a kiss against her forehead.
Azzi rested her head back on the crook of Paige’s neck, reminding herself to take in the moment. “I think that’s when I first started only listening to you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I’m not sure if you know this, but I’m very stubborn.”
“Really? I had no idea.” Paige teased, earning a playful elbow to the ribs. “It’s okay, I am too.”
“Exactly. We only listen to each other. Otherwise, we don’t let anyone tell us what to do.”
For a moment, Paige just stared at her, her expression thoughtful, like she was realizing something for the first time. “Holy shit,” she said finally, laughing. “You’re right.” She kissed the top of Azzi’s head. “Is this, like, a known thing?””
Before Azzi could answer, the door swung open from behind them, revealing Ice and Caroline. “You guys ready? We’re about to order an uber.”
Azzi nodded, standing, brushing off the back of her jeans. She was about to step forward when Paige’s hand caught her wrist.
“Wait,” Paige said, “I kinda wanted to walk.”
Azzi groaned. “Ugh, but it’s late, P. I’m tired.”
Paige pouted beyond dramatically, “Please? For old times' sake.”
Azzi contemplated her options for a moment, but that pout would get her every damn time. “Fine.”
Caroline chuckled from behind them, “Now that I’m not going to miss.”
“What, the being whipped for each other thing? Me either.” Ice agreed, following Caroline back inside.
Paige’s jaw dropped, letting herself be tugged upright by Azzi. “So it is a known thing!”
“You never realized?” Azzi laced their fingers together, pulling Paige flush against her as they started to walk.
Paige’s grip tightened, “I knew I only listened to you. Jus’ didn’t realize you did it too.”
“I’d do anything for you.” Azzi practically whispered, tears threatening to pour over again.
“Me too.”
There, as they walked home from Ted’s for the last time, possibly in their last few moments as teammates ever, Azzi felt it all over again. This annoying, kind, empathetic, talented girl next to her was hers. And she’d changed her life forever.
The girl who was now leaving the school where they’d survived injuries together, won a national championship together, laughed, fought, cried, said ‘i love you’ for the first time, and figured out who they were in the world - - together.
All because Azzi gave in to Paige’s insistence that she come to UConn. Her insistence that their story wasn’t over yet.
“I’m glad I listened to you,” Azzi spoke after a while.
“Which time?” Paige asked, eyes soft.
“The first time. About coming here.”
Paige turned to look at her, a stray tear falling. Still, she smiled. “Whipped.”
“Whatever.” Azzi sighed, resting her head on Paige’s shoulder. “I love you.”
“I know,” Paige whispered. “I love you more.”
*
So, they really only listened to each other. But Azzi didn’t look at this as a bad thing, because if she hadn’t always caved when it came to Paige, her life could be entirely different. Their friends could tease all they wanted, but Azzi would always cave when it came to Paige. Even if she complained, even if she put up a front, she trusted her with her life.
Because if she hadn’t listened to Paige, she wouldn’t have the team that changed her life, the teammates she looked at as family, the blonde-haired blue-eyed girl she couldn’t help but fall in love with. And she’d do it all over again in a heartbeat.
"you keep me open, i'm so devoted... to you."
-----
a/n:
thanks for reading!
not really sure how i ended up getting so emo at the end but it kind of just happened.
hope you enjoyed!
The gym was already half full when Azzi walked in, which meant she was early but not early enough to be impressive. Maddie was beside her, bouncing on the balls of her feet like her nerves had nowhere else to go.
“I think I’m gonna throw up,” Maddie whispered.
Azzi didn’t respond. Mostly because she also thought Maddie might throw up, and if she acknowledged it out loud, it might manifest into reality.
They stepped farther in, sneakers squeaking against the polished court, and that’s when Azzi saw her.
Paige Bueckers. Already out there. Shooting.
Because of course she was.
Black hoodie tossed in the corner, shorts low on her hips, hair pulled back in that barely-trying way that still somehow looked intentional. She wasn’t just warming up—she was Paige Bueckers warming up, which was somehow its own category. Calm. Precise. A little lethal.
Azzi tried not to stare. Failed immediately.
Maddie leaned in, voice low. “Do you think she—”
“Don’t,” Azzi said, eyes still locked on the basket. “Not right now. I need to survive the next ten minutes without saying something humiliating.”
She could feel Paige’s presence across the court. Like a gravitational pull. And she hated how aware she was of it. How it made her posture weird. How she suddenly didn’t know what to do with her arms.
“Let’s just stretch,” she said, dragging Maddie to the far sideline. Somewhere safe. Somewhere not directly in Paige Bueckers’ line of sight.
As they settled into warm-ups, Azzi did her best impression of a chill, collected professional athlete. Which mostly meant focusing really hard on not tripping over her own feet.
And then, out of nowhere, she heard it:
“Fudd!”
She turned. Bridget, one of the vets, was waving her over.
Azzi jogged toward her, heart thudding, hoping she didn’t look like a middle schooler picked for varsity. As she reached the huddle forming around the returning players, Paige walked up too—towel slung around her neck, face unreadable.
They stood maybe three feet apart. Paige didn’t look at her. Which was fine. Totally fine.
Azzi kept her eyes straight ahead. Tried to look neutral. Tried not to sweat through her tank top.
Then Paige shifted. Just slightly. Like she was scanning the group. And—maybe on accident, maybe not—her eyes landed on Azzi.
And she nodded. Just once.
The smallest, most neutral Hey I see you nod in history.
Azzi nodded back—cool, casual, way better than last time, might she add. No twitch, no full-body spasm. Just a normal, human nod.
She exhaled. Maybe she was finally getting a grip.
This was fine. Everything was fine. If you ignored the part where Paige Bueckers was three feet away and Azzi’s brain was actively short-circuiting.
The rest of the team circled up. Coach was talking, clipboard in hand, laying out the morning. Azzi was trying to listen but her brain was doing that thing where it filtered everything through one central panic siren: you’re standing next to Paige Bueckers.
She caught the end of something about spacing and pace, Maddie nodding like she understood basketball better than anyone had ever understood anything in their life.
Paige hadn’t said a word. She just stood there, arms crossed, towel still hanging around her neck, expression neutral like always. Like she was watching the court for weaknesses. Like she was already playing chess while the rest of them were still unzipping their duffels.
And that shouldn’t have been hot. But, unfortunately, it was.
“Fudd, Williams, backcourt. Let’s run some shell,” Coach said.
Azzi blinked.
Williams. As in Courtney. Who was currently grinning like she’d just been handed front-row tickets to a live meltdown.
Paige was jogging over too, taking her place at the top of the key.
Oh.
Oh no.
Azzi hesitated for half a beat before joining them, pulse in her throat. She could do this. She’d run this drill a thousand times. She was not going to ruin her life on the first day of practice.
She was good at basketball. And it was time to prove it.
Courtney elbowed her lightly. “Breathe,” she said under her breath, eyes twinkling.
Azzi exhaled like she’d been holding her breath for three years. “I’m fine.”
“You’re vibrating.”
“I said I’m fine.”
“Just checking,” Courtney said, totally unbothered, like she wasn’t playing a supporting role in Azzi’s personal descent into hell.
They got into position. Paige called the play. Her voice was low, clear, and exactly the tone Azzi had imagined in her head too many times to count.
Focus, she told herself.
She could do this. She had a national title. She had a clean jumper. She had a blue check and a contract and Paige Bueckers followed her on Instagram, which didn’t matter here but also kind of did.
The ball was in play. They moved through the set, quick passes, sharp cuts, defense snapping into motion. Azzi locked in. Her body knew what to do, even if her brain was three steps behind.
And then—it happened.
Paige passed to her.
Just a clean little dish off a screen, nothing special. But Azzi caught it like she’d been handed the crown jewels. Her hands felt too soft. Her balance went weird. The shot went up—
—and clanged off the rim.
Courtney snorted audibly.
Azzi, to her credit, kept her expression neutral. Like she hadn’t just air-mailed a wide-open midrange jumper in front of her lifelong crush slash current teammate.
Paige didn’t say anything. Just kept playing. Like it wasn’t a big deal. Like she hadn’t noticed. Which, somehow, was worse.
Azzi chased the rebound, heart in her throat, and swore to herself, right then and there: Next time, she was making that shot. And the next one. And the one after that.
She didn’t care how cool Paige Bueckers looked in a hoodie. Or how quietly she called plays. Or how she didn’t even flinch when Azzi nearly collapsed from gay panic.
This was her team now, too.
And she was going to act like it.
It started with staying after practice. Taking extra shots while everyone else trickled out, calling it a day. Azzi stayed when the trainers packed up. When the music stopped. When there was no one left to see she was still there.
Which earned her nothing except sore calves and a very one-sided war with the rim.
She threw up another three. It bounced off the back iron like it was personal.
“Cool,” she muttered, grabbing the rebound. “Awesome. Definitely the rim’s fault.”
Another shot. Missed again.
She stood there, hands on her hips, trying to figure out how she could be both that girl—the number one pick, the walking highlight reel—and also someone who was currently shooting like she'd never met a basketball before.
“You’re favoring your left side.”
Azzi jumped.
Like, actually jumped. Full-body flinch. She might’ve made a noise that sounded like a squeak, which she’d be denying until the day she died.
She whipped around, heart in her throat, and—yeah. There it was.
Paige Bueckers. Leaning against the doorframe like some kind of Nike-sponsored hallucination. Arms crossed, mouth tilted somewhere between neutral and smirk. Head cocked.
The motion lights in the hallway had long since clicked off, casting her in that weird half-shadow that made her look more ethereal than usual. Rude.
Azzi’s brain immediately screamed run.
But she didn’t. She stayed planted. Forced herself to square up. Because she was Azzi Fucking Fudd. She had titles. Medals. A very real contract. And okay, maybe she also had a folder on her phone labeled “Pesbian 👀” from 2024, but now was not the time.
She swallowed.
“How would you know that?”
Paige blinked. Slow. Then pushed off the wall and stepped farther into the gym.
“I’ve watched your film, Fudd,” she said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I do my homework.”
Azzi’s soul briefly left her body.
Paige stopped at the top of the key. And Azzi—idiot, traitor to her own dignity—couldn’t help it. Her eyes tracked the way Paige licked her bottom lip, quick and thoughtless, like she didn’t know what that did to people.
Azzi cleared her throat. “So… what, you just watch film of everyone?”
Paige shrugged. “Not everyone.”
Azzi smirked, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. “Well, don’t I feel special.”
Silence.
No twitch of a smile. No arch of a brow. Just that same unreadable Paige expression. The one that made you question whether she hadn’t heard you or just didn’t care.
Azzi’s cheeks flared, heat crawling up her neck.
She turned back toward the basket, mostly so she wouldn’t have to look at her anymore. Paige. With her very neutral face. And her very loaded silences.
She lined up a shot. Missed again.
Behind her, Paige sighed. “You're overcorrecting. Stop thinking so hard.”
Once upon a time, an analyst said Azzi Fudd was dangerous because she took the kinds of opportunities you didn’t even realize you were giving. And they’d been right. She could see openings in real time—on the court, in life. Half-seconds that changed everything.
And maybe this was Paige Bueckers, but she was Azzi Fudd. That had to count for something.
So she turned. Slow. Steady. Met Paige’s gaze and smiled.
“If you know my shot so well,” she said, tossing the ball once, catching it again, “why don’t you just come over here and fix it?”
Paige arched a brow.
Azzi just shrugged. “Always been a hands-on learner.”
Paige didn’t move. For a second, Azzi thought maybe she’d gone too far. That she’d misread the moment. That she was about to get one of those dry, deadly Bueckers one-liners that ended her entire WNBA career before it started.
But then Paige stepped onto the court. Slow. Measured. And Azzi suddenly felt like the ball in her hands was on fire.
Paige stopped a few feet in front of her. Close enough that Azzi had to tilt her chin up slightly. Which felt unfair.
“You want notes?” Paige asked, voice flat but not unfriendly.
Azzi shrugged again, fighting for composure. “Might as well get something out of this humiliation.”
Paige didn’t ask. Just stepped in, fingers brushing Azzi’s elbow, nudging it in with clinical precision. Her skin was…soft. Warmer than Azzi expected. Not that she’d been expecting anything. Not consciously.
“Tuck this.”
Azzi held her breath. Not because she was overwhelmed, but because she didn’t trust her face not to give something away.
Paige bent slightly, tapped Azzi’s foot with the toe of her shoe. “Shift your weight here.”
Then, of course, her hand grazed Azzi’s hip. The small strip of skin exposed thanks to her jersey sticking to her sweat slicked skin. A light adjustment. Practical. Efficient. Nothing about it was meant to linger.
“Square off,” Paige said.
Azzi did. Then, deliberately, she shifted just enough to throw it off again.
Paige didn’t say anything. She just fixed it. One hand on her elbow. The other at her hip again, firmer now.
“Feel that shift?” Paige asked, low and even.
Azzi looked her dead in the eye.
Because she was already over the edge, if she was being honest. Paige’s touch lingered like a brand, heat blooming in its wake—and yeah, her heart was tripping over itself, but that didn’t mean she didn’t know exactly what she was doing.
She always knew when to take a shot. It’s what made her dangerous.
So, she tilted off-position again. Barely.
Paige pulled back, frowning. Arms crossing.
“What are you doing?” she asked, all unimpressed veteran.
Azzi’s mouth curled, sharp and dangerous.
“Learning from the best.”
And maybe she imagined it, but for just a second, Paige’s cheeks went pink.
“Do what I say, Fudd,” she said, voice low. “Right your hips.”
Azzi blinked. Once. Twice.
Paige didn’t seem to notice. Or if she did, she didn’t care. She nodded at the basket.
“Now shoot.”
Azzi didn’t move right away. Because right your hips was going to echo in her brain for the next three business days. Finally, she forced her hips into position and let it fly. The shot dropped, clean as anything.
Paige just nodded. “Better.”
Then turned and walked off. Like she hadn’t just rearranged Azzi’s entire skeletal structure and spiritual alignment.
Azzi stood frozen.
Her heart was punching holes in her ribs. Her palms were sweating. And her brain—her dumb, dumb brain—was stuck on a loop of hip touch elbow touch hip touch hip touch hip touch..
“Thanks for your help,” Azzi said.
Except—no. Not said. Squeaked. Her voice breaking like a teenager finally hitting puberty. She ignored it. “I know you didn’t have to—”
She trailed off, mortified, because Jesus Christ. What was she doing?
Paige didn’t even look back. “You’re on my team now, Fudd. Your misses are my problem.”
And then she was gone.
Azzi stared at the empty doorway, brain still buffering. She turned back, lined up another shot. Released.
Swish.
She didn’t smile. Didn’t cheer. Just kept shooting.
Paige’s POV
Paige was already late for dinner, which she hated. She hated the idea of people waiting on her. Of showing up second. Of looking like she didn’t have her shit together.
But she’d seen Fudd still out there, alone. Shooting. Missing.
And instead of leaving, like she should have, she’d walked in.
She didn’t even know why. Maybe because the shot was driving her insane. Maybe because she respected people who worked in silence. Maybe because, deep down, she hadn’t expected Azzi Fudd to be one of them.
All practice, her shot looked like shit. And now she was trying to muscle her way through it. No drama. No excuses. Just stubborn as hell. But Paige could only listen to the ball hammer off the rim so many times before she lost her patience.
And maybe she wanted to see how Azzi would handle it. The criticism. The pressure. Her.
And then Azzi—twenty-three, bright-eyed, too pretty for her own good—had smiled at her like missing five in a row wasn’t a crisis. Had tilted her head and asked for help. Hands on help.
Paige should’ve walked away.
Instead, she adjusted her elbow. Tapped her hip. Was gentle in a ways she hadn't been in years.
Now she was late for dinner.
Unfortunate.
She handed her keys to the valet, smoothed her hair back with one quick swipe, and walked toward the restaurant like she wasn’t ten minutes behind and underdressed.
“Well look who made time for us,” Courtney said as Paige dropped into her seat.
The table laughed. Paige narrowed her eyes.
“Was dealing with something. Sorry.”
“By something,” Bridget said, leaning in with a smirk, “do you mean that rookie who visibly quivers every time you look at her?”
Paige didn’t even blink. Just rolled her eyes and reached for the menu.
“I’ll pay for dinner if you don’t say another word about Fudd, the rookie, or what she apparently does in my presence.”
Courtney cackled. “So that’s a yes.”
Paige flipped her menu open like she hadn’t heard a thing.
The server came by to rattle off specials, and Paige barely listened. She ordered her usual. No substitutions.
Beside her, Courtney leaned back in her chair, swirling ice in her drink like she was waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
“You know,” she said, voice low enough not to drag the whole table in, “I watched Fudd all through college. Solid player. Pretty. Intense. Not really your type though.”
Paige didn’t look up. “Didn’t realize I had a type.”
Courtney grinned. “You don’t. That’s what makes it fun.”
Paige sipped her drink.
“She’s a rookie,” she said flatly.
“And you’re… morally opposed to rookies?”
“I’m opposed to mess.”
Courtney snorted. “You are the mess.”
Paige arched a brow. “Rich coming from you.”
Courtney shrugged, all teeth. “Yeah, but I own it. I’m not out here pretending to be something I’m not.”
Paige leaned in slightly, lips curving into something smug. “Then why don’t you entertain the rookie, Williams?”
Courtney blinked. Then laughed. “Oh, baby. She doesn’t want me.”
Paige reached for her drink, throwing it back. Courtney watched her for a beat longer, shaking her head.
“Yeah. You’re in trouble.”
—-
Paige got to the gym early that morning, hoping for some quiet. A little solo shooting to clear her head. Reset the rhythm.
What she didn’t expect was Azzi Fudd already there, doing the exact same thing.
The second she walked in, Azzi’s head snapped up. Like she'd been caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to, even though it was literally her job to be here.
She offered a half-smile—tight, nervous, the kind that looked like it hurt—and Paige just tilted her head.
Didn’t smile. Didn’t wave.
Just clocked her, nodded once, and kept walking. Because it was early. And she hadn’t had coffee. And this was not the time for whatever was going on in Fudd’s brain.
She took the far rim and started shooting.
Her body protested immediately—shoulders tight, knees cranky, the kind of ache that came with age and refusing to slow down.
The shots were hit or miss. Mostly fine. Not sharp. Not broken. But off just enough to piss her off. She forced her mind into quiet. That was the point—this part. The early work. The no-eyes-on-you kind. Fix it now, before it becomes a conversation.
She sank one. Missed the next.
“You’re favoring your right.”
The words floated across the court, casual. Like they weren’t the exact thing Paige had been trying not to admit.
She closed her eyes. Breathed through her nose. Counted to three like her psychologist always told her too.
Then she turned.
Azzi was standing at half court, hand on her hip, a ball tucked under the other arm. Smug. A little too proud of herself.
Paige arched a brow. “You get that from film? Or just divine rookie instinct?”
Azzi smiled, small and maddening. “You’re not the only one who did her homework.”
Paige licked her lips. Didn’t look away.
There it was. Exactly what she’d expected from someone like Azzi Fudd. Arrogant. Too confident. A little too loud for her own good.
Paige didn’t even glance at the basket as she let the ball go. Swish. Her eyes never left Azzi’s.
“Any more notes, Fudd?” she asked, voice calm. Almost bored.
Azzi rocked on her heels, eyes darting to the floor.
“Uh, no.”
“Alright then,” Paige said, already turning back to the rack.
But it stuck. The way Azzi’s face fell. Not dramatic—just enough to register. And that was annoying, too. Because Fudd was a cocky little shit. But Paige was supposed to be a leader. She knew that. Knew the difference between putting someone in their place and knocking the wind out of them.
She sighed. Turned again—just in time to see Azzi drop an easy three from the wing.
“Shot looks a lot better, by the way.”
Azzi lit up immediately, smile flicking back on like a switch. “Thanks. Someone smarter than me gave me good advice.”
Paige didn’t respond. Just rolled her eyes and returned her focus to what she came for.
—
Practice ran long.
Not in a bad way. Just in the way that meant things were working. Crisp rotations. Real pace. Nobody mailing it in. Paige liked those days. When the work felt clean and heavy at the same time.
She also liked when people shut up and did their jobs.
Which, to her mild surprise, included Fudd.
Azzi barely said a word. Just ran her sets, hit her shots, defended hard. No flash. No drama. None of the posturing Paige had been bracing for.
She was good. Really good.
Smart cuts. Sharp footwork. Fast release. And for someone brand new, she adapted quick. Didn’t need her hand held. Didn’t try to do too much.
Paige clocked it all without reacting. Just kept playing. But every so often—when she passed off a drive or called for a screen—she’d feel it.
Azzi’s eyes on her. Nothing aggressive. Nothing obvious.
Just…there.
Watching.
Paige didn’t like being watched. Especially not by rookies with nice footwork and something to prove.
It was late in practice. Everyone was dragging. Shirts clung, knees ached, tempers frayed at the edges.
Paige had already mentally wrapped it—cool down, ice bath, maybe dinner if Courtney stopped talking for five seconds.
But Coach blew the whistle and called for another scrim.
Fine.
Paige stayed on offense. Azzi drew Courtney on the wing. Rookie assignment. Basic. Contain the veteran, don’t get embarrassed. Azzi had done fine with it all practice.
Which made what happened next even funnier.
Paige walked the ball up. Ran the play in her head. Knew exactly where Courtney would be. Knew exactly where Azzi would follow.
And lined it up.
Paige saw it three seconds before it happened.
Courtney curled around the arc, dragging her defender—Azzi, hustling, a half-step behind—right into the teeth of the play.
Paige planted her feet. Shoulders square. Elbows in. Stepped into the screen with all the calm precision of someone who’d done this a thousand times.
Set. Legal. Textbook.
And Azzi didn’t see it coming. At all.
Her shoulder slammed into Paige’s chest with a crack that rang across the court. The kind of hit that stole the breath from your lungs before your brain caught up.
Azzi went down hard. Full sprawl. Elbows scraped. The smack of her back against hardwood sharp and unignorable.
Courtney sank the jumper without missing a beat.
The gym went quiet for half a second—just long enough to register the sound, the thud, the damn of it all—before someone let out a low whistle.
Paige didn’t flinch. Just held her stance a beat longer, like she was posing for a point. Azzi groaned from the floor. Someone whistled low. Someone else laughed. Paige didn’t say a word. Just offered a hand.
Azzi stared at the hand for a second. Like she was debating it. Like her pride wanted to say no, but her body didn’t want to stay on the floor.
She took it.
Paige pulled her up in one clean motion.
“Keep your eyes up,” she said, flat. “Or you’re gonna get hurt.”
She went to let go of Azzi's hand immediately. But Azzi didn’t relent.Not right away.
She held on for half a second too long. Just enough to make it a choice. Just enough for Paige to notice.
And when she did, Paige’s eyes flicked down. Azzi smiled. Sweet. Innocent. Trouble.
Then, like nothing had happened at all, she let go. “Thanks, Paige,” she said.
Coach blew the whistle before Paige could say anything else.
“Alright,” she called out. “That’s it. We’ll pick it up tomorrow.”
The gym exhaled all at once.
Shoes squeaked. Someone clapped. A few groans. A chorus of relieved thank gods under their breath.
Paige headed towards the locker room, looking back once to see Azzi wince as she moved.
Azzi’s POV
Paige Bueckers had fucking body slammed her.
Okay—not technically. Azzi had run straight into her like a dumbass who forgot how screens worked. But it felt like a body slam.
Paige hadn’t even moved.
Azzi had gone sprawling. Paige had just… absorbed it. Didn’t stumble, didn’t shift. Like her body had been expecting it. Like she was made of steel and quiet judgment and an alarming amount of core strength.
It was horrifying. And also kind of hot.
Azzi groaned, dragging a towel over her face like it might smother the thoughts out of her brain.
She should be pissed.
But all she could think about was the full body contact part.
Chest to shoulder. Solid. Unmoving. Like slamming into a wall that smelled faintly like eucalyptus and expensive laundry detergent.
She shook her head as Courtney slid into the seat beside her.
“How you doing?” Courtney asked, bumping her shoulder lightly. “That was a hard hit.”
Azzi straightened, just enough to pretend she hadn’t been internally spiraling. “I’m fine. It wasn’t that bad.”
Courtney snorted. “You bounced, Fudd. I heard it.”
Azzi opened her mouth to argue, then closed it.
“Make sure you get in the ice bath,” Courtney added, kicking her legs out. “Coach is gonna ask tomorrow after watching you kiss the floor like that. You do not want to say no to that conversation.”
Azzi nodded, stood up, and immediately regretted every life choice that had led her to this moment. Her body felt like it had been run over by a truck.
Which—fine. She’d basically sprinted into a human wall. A six-foot-tall, stupidly hot wall.
She dragged herself down the hall toward the training room, half-limping, half-hoping no one would notice she was dying. Turned the corner to the ice baths.
And nearly died again.
Because Paige Bueckers was there.
Shirtless.
In nothing but tight black spandex and bra, lowering herself into a tub of ice like it was nothing. Like her jaw wasn’t clenched in a way that made her cheekbones look illegal. Like her hands weren’t gripping the edge of the tub so tight the veins were doing things Azzi didn’t have the vocabulary for.
Azzi froze.
Literally froze. Outside the door. Arms full of a towel and pride she no longer possessed.
She needed to leave. She needed to turn around and fake a hamstring injury and maybe switch teams. Instead, she just stood there—sweaty, sore, and full of sin—watching like an idiot for way too long.
Azzi took one shaky step inside, like maybe if she moved slow enough, the universe wouldn’t notice what was happening.
Spoiler: it noticed.
She could hear the slosh of ice water as Paige shifted slightly in the tub, resting one arm along the edge, the other dragging wet hair off her neck.
Azzi stared straight ahead. At the wall. At nothing. Anywhere but Paige.
She cleared her throat, which came out sounding like a dying bird. “Uh. Is this—are there other tubs?”
Smooth.
Paige didn’t even open her eyes. Just tilted her head back against the wall and said, “Three more. Pick one.”
Right. Of course there were. It wasn’t like there was one tub and Azzi was going to have to climb in with her like this was some kind of team-building retreat.
The mere thought launched her into motion. She made a beeline for the one farthest away—like putting ten feet of distance between them might somehow save her soul.
She dropped her towel onto the bench with too much force. Stared down at the water like it might ask her to explain her intentions.
Then peeled off her sweatshirt, careful not to hiss when it tugged on her sore shoulder, and lowered herself onto the edge of the tub. The water was frigid. Azzi had always hated ice baths. Avoided them whenever she could. But her body was already screaming, and she knew this was the only fix. So, she took a breath and dropped in.
Too fast. Too loud. Water sloshed violently over the edge, smacking the floor like a warning shot.
"Fuck," she groaned.
Across the room, Paige turned. Slowly. One eyebrow raised. Not annoyed. Just...observing. Like Azzi was a particularly noisy science experiment.
Azzi flushed, sinking lower in the tub like it might swallow her whole. “Sorry,” she muttered, avoiding eye contact. “I suck at these.”
Paige didn’t blink. “You’ll get used to them.”
The silence that followed was aggressive.
Azzi adjusted her arms, elbows knocking the edge of the tub as she tried—and failed—not to look like she was actively dying. Her teeth weren’t chattering, but it was close.
Paige had already leaned back again, like the splash hadn’t happened. Like she hadn’t just watched a grown woman flail her way into a glorified metal coffin. Her expression was unreadable, like always. Relaxed jaw. Half-lidded eyes.
Meanwhile, Azzi was fighting for her life.
She closed her eyes. Counted to five. Thought about taxes or defensive rotations or literally anything that didn’t involve the sight of Paige Bueckers shirtless in five inches of freezing water.
Azzi exhaled. Quietly.
Then, because she couldn’t let it stay quiet: “Do you always get here early like you did today?”
Why. Why would she ask that.
Paige didn’t open her eyes. “Sometimes.”
Which was a non-answer. But also kind of sexy. But also made Azzi want to punch herself in the throat.
“Cool,” she said, because apparently she was incapable of shutting up. “Me too.”
Paige finally turned her head a fraction. Just enough to glance at her. Just enough for the light to catch her collar bones. And Azzi smiled.
Paige looked back at the ceiling like this was the longest ice bath of her life.
A few minutes later, the water shifted—soft at first, then louder, sharper.
Azzi looked up instinctively, and—
She forgot how to blink.
Paige was rising from the tub. Her spandex clung like a second skin. Her abs flexed tight as she braced herself on the edge of the tub, water trailing down her torso in glistening lines. Her arms—Jesus Christ, her arms—tensed as she pushed herself upright, muscle taut and defined like they’d been sketched by someone with a grudge against subtlety.
Azzi’s breath caught, low in her throat.
Paige was all lean lines and quiet strength, legs solid, spine straight, her jaw sharp as she raked a hand through her wet hair. She didn’t look at Azzi. Just reached for the plain white t-shirt on the bench, tugged it over her head in one practiced motion, the fabric catching for a second over damp skin.
Azzi’s chest felt too tight.
She looked down. Then back up. Then down again.
Her pulse roared, hot and chaotic. And Azzi truly feared if she didn’t speak, she might combust right there in the freezing water.
“See you in the morning?” she managed, voice pitched higher than she wanted. Too careful. Too soft.
Paige paused, not looking at her at first. Just thumbed something into her phone.
“See you, Fudd.”
She turned slightly, like she was ready to leave—then stopped. Looked back. Her expression unreadable, but her voice smooth, low.
“And stay the full fifteen like a good girl, alright?”
Azzi blinked.
Then blinked again.
Because something in her brain had short-circuited. Glitched. Like her whole central nervous system tripped over those two words and just fell apart.
Good girl.
She didn’t even know what to do with that. It echoed. Ricocheted. Down her spine, behind her eyes, somewhere low and treacherous.
She tried to say something. Anything. But her mouth refused to cooperate. By the time she got her throat to work again, Paige was already gone.
The water felt colder now. Or maybe her skin was just hotter. She shifted, knees drawing in slightly, trying to ignore the pulse low in her stomach, the spark lodged somewhere it had no business being.
But still—she didn’t get out.
Not until her alarm went off. Not until the full fifteen minutes ticked past.
Good fucking girl, indeed.
—--
Azzi lay flat on her back, limbs sprawled across the bed like her body had declared mutiny.
Everything hurt. Her shoulder. Her ass. Her pride. Her soul.
She winced as she shifted, rolling just enough to grab her phone off the nightstand. The screen glowed too bright in the dark. Her group chat—hoops and hos—was already lighting up with messages.
Jana: u alive
Azzi: ok first of all. yes.second of all.have u ever been body-checked by the woman of ur gay little dreams and liked it??? bc it’s confusing. and horny. and i think i’m dying actually.
Jana: so ur saying she touched u and now u can’t walk
Azzi: correct.
Caroline: did u at least say thank you
Azzi: no but i held onto her hand when she pulled me up
Caroline: first steps to marriage
Jana
how’s your spine
still intact?
Azzi: ok listen yes she flattened me yes it hurt but also????
Jana: oh no
Azzi
she told me to be a good girl in the post collision ice bath.
like. actually said it.
direct quote.
“stay the full fifteen like a good girl.”
i almost drowned.
Caroline SHUT UP
Jana ??????????
Jana ???????????????????
Caroline
i’d pass away on the spot
Azzi
i considered it
but then i sat there. like an idiot. in the ice water. full 15. didn’t move.
Jana
so she says “good girl” once and suddenly ur the most obedient bitch alive
Azzi
correct.
Caroline
this is honestly worse than the thirst tweet era
Azzi stared at the ceiling like it had answers. Spoiler: it did not.
Her shoulder ached. Her pride ached worse. And Paige Bueckers—stoic, slow-blinking Paige—had said good girl like it was a throwaway comment. Like it wasn’t a direct missile to Azzi’s already-fragile sanity.
She dragged a hand down her face. Groaned into the quiet.
This was ridiculous.
She had been body-checked, publicly humbled, and then praised like a well-behaved dog. And the worst part?
She hadn’t hated it. Not even close.
She reached for her phone and fired off a text.
Azzi
i’m losing it
she said “good girl”
like it meant nothing
like it wasn’t a full-blown psychological event
Jana
and how are we feeling
spiritually
Azzi
violated
aroused
plotting
Jana
uh oh
Azzi stared at the screen, heart still thudding with something she refused to name.
Because fine. If Paige wanted to play this game, Azzi could play too.
She wasn’t going to sit here and spiral. Not tonight.
No. Tonight, she was done being the rookie with her tail between her legs. If Paige Bueckers wanted to play it cool—stoic, unreadable, perfectly detached—Azzi would give her something to actually react to.
Push back. Push buttons. See just how far that iron will could bend.
Let Paige try to ignore that.
Azzi turned her phone face-down and let the smile settle. Sharp. Intentional.
Two could play. And she didn’t plan on losing.
Paige’s POV
Alright. So, maybe Courtney had a small point. Maybe Azzi did have a slight fascination.
The thought clicked into place the second the words left her mouth—“like a good girl”—and Azzi froze.
Not dramatically. Just…noticeably.
Like her muscles locked up one by one, a system reboot happening behind her eyes. Shoulders stiff. Posture suddenly too upright for someone half-submerged in freezing water.
She turned back to her phone before the moment could get weird. Or acknowledged. Or anything, really.
She hadn’t meant it like that. It was just a thing people said. She’d heard coaches bark it during recovery. Be smart. Do your time. Be a good girl. It wasn’t loaded. Not on purpose.
Except apparently, it had meant something.
Azzi didn’t speak. Didn’t move. Just sat there in that ice bath like she was afraid any shift in gravity would expose whatever short circuit was happening inside her head.
And maybe that was the first time Paige thought: Oh.
Not haha, funny. Not this’ll be annoying.
Just Oh.
Then she turned back to her phone like it meant nothing at all. Because it didn’t. Not really. Azzi would get over it.
But still—she didn’t miss the way Fudd sat there. Jaw tight. Not budging until the timer went off.
And yeah…Paige clocked that, too.
—--
Paige got to the gym early again.
Not on purpose. Not to make a point. Just routine. She liked the silence. The echo of the ball on hardwood. The way the world stayed outside until the rest of the team poured in.
But Fudd had beat her there.
Again.
She tugged her hood a little lower as she stepped inside, letting the door fall shut behind her. The lights were already up. Balls already echoing off the rim.
Azzi was on the far side of the court, curls bouncing as she moved through a shooting drill like she had something to prove.
Which—fine. She did. Everyone did their rookie year.
Still, Paige’s jaw tensed.
She dropped her bag near the baseline with a little more force than necessary and laced her shoes slowly, keeping her eyes down even as the ball swished—again—from Azzi’s side.
“Morning,” Azzi called out casually, barely turning her head.
Paige barely looked up, gave a small nod and focused back on her shoes.
Paige grabbed a ball from the rack and started her own warm-up. Simple reps. No flair. Let the rhythm settle her.
Across the court, Azzi was still going. Still chasing whatever ghost she was trying to outrun.
She just kept shooting, let the echo of their routines fill the space between them.
They weren’t teammates yet—not really. Not until the season started. But she figured they were getting close.
And as long as Azzi kept working, Paige didn’t care who showed up first.
----
The locker room was mostly quiet.
A few teammates were milling around—stretching, hydrating, swapping shoes—but the hum of conversation was low, half-hearted. Morning energy.
Azzi stood a few lockers down, back to the room, peeling off her sweatshirt. Her sports bra was damp, sticking to her spine, and she moved like her shoulders were sore. Like the screen from yesterday still echoed in her bones.
Paige didn’t mean to stare. She was tying her shoes, minding her business. But the movement caught her eye, just in time to see the fabric drop and the bruises appear—deep purple, stretching across Azzi’s ribs like paint strokes.
Paige blinked once. Slowly.
It wasn’t guilt. She set legal screens. Clean ones. Rookies were supposed to get knocked around a little.
Still. That looked like it hurt.
Azzi reached into her locker for her practice shirt, humming something off-key, like her ribs didn’t look like they’d been hit with a crowbar. She moved stiffly, but didn’t say a word.
Paige cleared her throat. Azzi turned slightly, shirt still in hand.
Paige nodded toward her side. “You get that from me?”
Azzi blinked. Then looked down at herself, like she’d forgotten.
“Oh. Yeah,” she said, casual, like someone had asked if she’d bumped into a table. “It’s fine. Been hit harder."
Paige leaned back on the bench. “You get it checked out?”
Azzi shrugged. “Did the ice bath. Trainer said I’ll live.”
“Next time,” Paige said, tone even, “eyes up, yeah?”
"Next time," Azzi said with a small smile. "Take me to dinner before you put me on my ass."
Paige paused. Just for a second.
She didn’t smile. Didn’t blink. Just let the words settle for a second longer than she should.
Dinner. Jesus Christ.
She grabbed her water bottle, stood, and gave Fudd one more look—deliberate, slow, from bruised ribs to smirking mouth.
“Try staying on your feet first.”
Then she walked out.
Didn’t look back. Didn’t give it weight. But in the hallway, alone, she let out one short breath through her nose.
Trouble.
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