Chapter 7: Loud and Proud
Jaz didn't knock. She never knocked anymore.
The door swung open and she stepped inside, still riding the adrenaline from the meeting, her skin buzzing like she'd downed three espressos and a shot of whiskey. The apartment smelled like simmering peppers and onion, like cumin and something green. Nicole stood at the stove, wooden spoon in hand, her back to the door.
"Coach called me in," Jaz said, before the door even clicked shut behind her. "Sat me down in his office. You know what he said?"
Nicole turned her head, just slightly. "Tell me."
"He said he heard things. About me. About us. Said he wanted to make sure I was 'focused on the season.'" Jaz paced the length of the living room, her sneakers scuffing against the hardwood. "Asked if I was 'distracted.' Asked if I understood the stakes."
She stopped. Turned. Paced back.
"I told him I've been playing the best basketball of my life. I told him my personal life was exactly that—personal. And you know what he did? He smiled. Like he was proud of me for pushing back. Like this was some kind of test."
Nicole stirred the pot. Slow, steady circles.
"And then I said something I've never said out loud. Not to him. Not to anyone." Jaz's voice dropped, but it didn't lose its edge. "I told him I wasn't hiding. I told him if the scouts had a problem with who I love, they could take it up with my jump shot."
She stopped pacing. Stood in the middle of the room, chest heaving like she'd just finished a sprint.
"Who I love," she repeated. Quiet now. Almost like she was testing the weight of the word.
Nicole set the spoon down.
The room went still. The pot simmered. Mami the cat, curled on the windowsill, opened one eye and closed it again.
Nicole turned around slow, her back against the counter, both hands gripping the edge. Her lips were parted. Her eyes—those deep, dark eyes that had seen straight through Jaz from the first day—had gone black. Pupils blown wide.
Her thighs pressed together.
Jaz noticed.
The air between them changed. Thickened. Jaz felt it like a hand on the back of her neck—that pull, that heat, that thing that had been building since the moment Nicole walked into that classroom months ago and refused to smile at her charm.
"What?" Jaz asked.
Nicole didn't answer. Just looked at her. Ate her up with her eyes.
"You're looking at me like—"
"Like what?"
"Like you want to—"
"Like I want to what?"
Jaz crossed the room in three strides.
She grabbed Nicole by the waist and lifted her like she weighed nothing—because she didn't, not to Jaz, not with the way her body responded to this woman like muscle memory. Nicole's legs wrapped around her instantly, ankles locking at the small of Jaz's back.
"Jaz—"
"Shut up."
Their mouths crashed together. Teeth, tongue, the taste of jalapeño and something sweeter underneath. Nicole's fingers dug into Jaz's shoulders, her neck, her jaw. She kissed like she was drowning and Jaz was air.
Jaz carried her. Past the couch, past the bookshelf, past the tapestry that hung crooked on the wall. Into the bedroom. Onto the bed.
She laid Nicole down with a force that knocked the breath from both of them. Nicole's head hit the pillow. Her hips rolled up, seeking contact, seeking friction, seeking anything.
Jaz didn't give her time to think. She hooked her fingers into the waistband of Nicole's leggings and pulled them down—rough, impatient, almost tearing the fabric. Nicole's underwear went with them. Then Jaz was pushing her knees apart, settling between her thighs, breathing her in.
"You're so fucking wet," Jaz murmured.
"I've been wet since you walked in the door."
"Since before that."
"Since lunch."
Jaz laughed—low, dark—and then she was done talking.
She lowered her mouth to Nicole's cunt.
The first stroke of her tongue drew a sound from Nicole that was more animal than human. Something guttural, ripped from the back of her throat. Jaz licked her slow—top to bottom, bottom to top—savoring the taste, the salt, the heat.
"Fuck," Nicole gasped. "Fuck, Jaz—"
Jaz didn't answer. She was busy. She circled Nicole's clit with the flat of her tongue, then flicked it, then sucked it between her lips like she had all night. Nicole's hands flew to Jaz's head, fingers knotting in her short curls, holding her there.
"Don't stop," Nicole breathed. "Please don't stop."
"I'm not stopping."
Jaz slid two fingers inside her. No warning. No preamble. Just buried them to the knuckle and curled them forward, finding that spot that made Nicole's whole body jerk.
"Holy shit—"
"Right there?"
"Yes—yes—right there—"
Jaz worked her fingers in and out, slow and deep, while her tongue kept worshipping Nicole's clit. She could feel the muscles fluttering around her fingers, the tension building in Nicole's thighs, the way her hips started to move in rhythm.
"Come for me," Jaz said against her skin. "Come on my tongue."
Nicole tried to respond, but the words came out as a broken moan. Her back arched. Her heels dug into the mattress. Her cunt clenched around Jaz's fingers like a fist.
She came with a cry that cracked in the middle—high and sharp and utterly destroyed. Jaz didn't let up. She kept pumping her fingers, kept licking, kept working until Nicole's hands shoved at her head and she whimpered from overstimulation.
Jaz pulled back. Her mouth was slick. Her chin was wet. Her fingers were still buried inside Nicole, twitching with the aftershocks.
"You good?" Jaz asked.
Nicole could only nod.
"Good." Jaz withdrew her fingers. Licked them clean. Nicole watched, chest heaving. "Because I'm not done."
"You're not?"
"No." Jaz stood up. Crossed the room to the dresser. She'd been here enough times now to know which drawer. She pulled it open, found the harness, found the purple dildo Nicole had used on her three nights ago.
She stepped into the harness and adjusted the straps. Made sure everything was tight. Made sure everything was secure.
When she turned around, Nicole was watching her. Eyes wide. Lips parted.
"You want this?" Jaz asked.
"You know I do."
"Say it."
"I want it."
"Say it again."
"I want you to fuck me, Jaz. I want you to fuck me hard."
Jaz climbed onto the bed.
She knelt between Nicole's legs, the dildo jutting forward, slick with the lube she'd grabbed from the drawer. Nicole reached down and spread herself open—two fingers on each side, her cunt pink and glistening and ready.
"Fuck," Jaz whispered. "You're perfect."
"So fuck me."
Jaz pushed inside.
The head slipped past Nicole's entrance, and Nicole gasped—that sharp intake of breath that meant it was good, it was right, it was exactly what she needed. Jaz went slow. Inch by inch. Watching Nicole's face the whole time.
"You okay?"
"Keep going."
Jaz bottomed out. Her pelvis pressed against Nicole's. Their eyes locked.
"Ready?"
"I've been ready."
Jaz pulled out. Thrust back in.
The first few strokes were slow—deliberate, controlled, Jaz establishing her rhythm. But Nicole wasn't having it. She grabbed Jaz's ass and pulled her forward.
"Harder," she demanded.
"You sure?"
"I said harder."
Jaz gave her harder.
She slammed into Nicole with a force that knocked the headboard against the wall. Nicole cried out, but it wasn't pain—it was relief, it was hunger, it was everything. Jaz fucked her like she'd been wanting to since the first time she saw her. Deep, hard, relentless.
"You like that?" Jaz grunted.
"Yes—fuck yes—"
"You like my strap in your cunt?"
"Fuck—"
"Say it."
"I love it—I love your strap—I love—"
Jaz angled her hips. Found that spot again. Nicole screamed.
"Oh god—Jaz—right there—don't stop—"
"I'm not stopping. I'm gonna fuck you until you can't walk."
Nicole's eyes rolled back. Her nails raked down Jaz's arms, leaving red lines on brown skin. Jaz didn't flinch. She just fucked harder.
"You're gonna come for me," Jaz said. "You're gonna come on this dick."
"Yes—yes—I'm gonna—"
"Come."
"I'm—"
"NOW."
The orgasm hit Nicole like a train. Her whole body convulsed—back bowing, legs shaking, mouth open in a scream that had Jaz's name buried in it somewhere. And then—
She squirted.
It gushed out of her, hot and wet, soaking Jaz's thighs, soaking the sheets, soaking the harness. Nicole's eyes flew open, shock and ecstasy warring on her face. But Jaz didn't stop. Couldn't stop. She kept fucking her through it, kept pounding until Nicole's scream turned into a sob and her body finally went limp.
Jaz pulled out slow. Watched the last tremors roll through Nicole's legs. Then she unfastened the harness and let it drop.
The room smelled like sex and sweat and something raw. The sheets were ruined. Mami the cat had fled to the living room at some point during the chaos. The stew on the stove had probably burned.
Jaz collapsed beside Nicole. They both stared at the ceiling. Neither spoke. The wall clock ticked. Nicole's breathing slowly returned to normal.
"Holy fuck," Nicole finally said.
"Yeah."
"I think I squirted."
"You definitely squirted."
"I've never—" She stopped. Laughed. Shook her head. "I didn't know I could do that."
Jaz turned her head. Looked at her. Nicole's face was flushed, her hair a disaster, her body slick with sweat. She was the most beautiful thing Jaz had ever seen.
"You okay?" Jaz asked.
"More than okay." Nicole turned her head too. Met her eyes. "You?"
"I just told my coach I'm in love with you. Then I came over here and fucked you until you squirted. I'm better than okay."
Nicole's breath caught.
"Say that again," she whispered.
"What?"
"The first part."
Jaz reached out. touched Nicole's face. Traced the curve of her jaw with her thumb.
"Who I love," Jaz said slowly. "That's what I said. To him. To you. It's out there now."
"Out there."
"Yeah."
Nicole closed her eyes. A tear slipped down her cheek—not sad, not overwhelmed, just—something. Jaz wiped it away.
"I love you too," Nicole said. "I've loved you since you bought me that coffee. When you stopped trying to impress me and just—showed up."
"I didn't buy you coffee."
"You tried. I said no."
"I remember." Jaz smiled. "You were so mean to me."
"I was not mean. I was—guarded."
"Same thing."
"You're lucky I even talk to you."
"I'm very lucky."
They lay there in the aftermath, the sheets ruined, the stew probably ruined, the whole afternoon shot to hell. And Jaz felt something she hadn't felt in years.
Peace.
The buzzer rang.
Neither of them moved.
The buzzer rang again. Longer this time.
"Someone's here," Nicole said.
"Ignore it."
"It's the door, Jaz. We can't ignore the door."
"Watch me."
The buzzer rang a third time, followed by a heavy knock. And then a voice—familiar, loud, unmistakable.
"Nicole! Jaz! I know you're in there. Open up. I brought food."
Rayna.
Jaz groaned. Nicole laughed.
"You told her to come?" Jaz asked.
"I told her we'd have lunch. Remember? Yesterday. Before you left."
"That was yesterday?"
Nicole checked the clock on the nightstand. "That was two hours ago."
They looked at each other. At the ruined sheets. At each other's naked bodies.
"Shower," Jaz said. "You go. I'll clean up."
"You're too tall to fit in my shower."
"I'll make it work."
Nicole rolled out of bed. Grabbed a robe from the hook on the door. Looked back at Jaz from the doorway.
"Hurry up," she said. "Rayna's not gonna wait forever."
"She can wait."
"She's gonna know what we were doing."
"Probably."
"She's gonna ask questions."
"Definitely."
Nicole smiled. That slow, warm smile that made Jaz feel like she was standing in sunlight.
"Then you better have answers," Nicole said. "Because I'm not helping you lie."
She disappeared into the bathroom. The shower came on. The buzzer rang again.
Jaz sat up in the ruined bed, surrounded by the evidence of everything they'd just done, and her whole body hurt, and her heart was full, and somewhere in the apartment a cat was yowling and Rayna was yelling through the door.
She smiled.
This was it. This was her life now. Messy and loud and full of people who knew exactly who she was.
She wouldn't trade it for anything.
Jaz swung her legs out of bed, grabbed a towel, and went to face the music.
Jaz swung her legs out of bed, grabbed a towel, and went to face the music.
The bathroom door opened before she reached it. Nicole stepped out in a cloud of steam, hair dripping, skin still pink from the heat. She'd wrapped herself in a threadbare robe that hung loose at her collarbone.
"Shower's yours," Nicole said. "Don't use all the hot water."
"No promises."
Jaz stepped past her. Paused. Turned back.
"Hey."
Nicole looked up.
"We're good, right?"
"We're good." Nicole reached out and touched Jaz's arm. "Go. Rayna's gonna break the door down."
Jaz showered fast. The water ran lukewarm by the time she finished, and she had to duck to get her head under the spray. Nicole's shampoo smelled like coconut and something floral she couldn't name. She used it anyway.
When she came out, wrapped in a towel that barely covered her thighs, Rayna was already inside.
She stood in the kitchen, arms crossed, a takeout bag dangling from one hand. Her eyes traveled from Jaz's wet hair to her bare shoulders to the towel and back up to her face. Then they slid to Nicole, who was stirring the stew pot like nothing had happened.
"Uh-huh," Rayna said.
"What?" Jaz asked.
"Nothing." Rayna set the bag on the counter. "Just noticing the vibe in here."
"What vibe?"
"The vibe where you two look like you just ran a marathon. Naked."
Nicole laughed. Didn't even try to deny it.
Jaz felt heat creep up her neck. "We were—"
"Showering? Together? In shifts?" Rayna raised an eyebrow. "With the window open? In January?"
Jaz looked at the window. It was cracked, just a sliver, letting in cold air and the faint smell of—
Sex. The apartment still smelled like sex. Underneath the stew and the incense and the coconut shampoo, it was there. Musky. Salt. Undeniable.
"We were cooking," Jaz said.
"You were cooking." Rayna nodded slowly. "So if I check the sheets in there, they'll be clean?"
Nicole snorted. Jaz shot her a look.
"Fine," Jaz said. "You win."
"I always win." Rayna grabbed three bowls from the cabinet like she lived there. She probably did, at this point. "Now eat. I brought dumplings. And wine."
"I don't have wine," Nicole said.
"You have wine. I brought it." Rayna pulled a bottle from the bag. "Sit. Both of you. Before I start asking specific questions."
They ate at the coffee table. Rayna sprawled in the leather armchair, legs draped over the side. Jaz and Nicole squeezed onto the couch, thighs pressed together. Mami the cat reappeared and claimed the armrest as her throne.
"So," Rayna said around a mouthful of dumpling. "Coach meeting. How'd it go?"
Jaz told her. The whole thing—the office, the warning, the way she'd stood her ground. Rayna listened without interrupting, which for her was a minor miracle.
When Jaz finished, Rayna set her chopsticks down.
"You told him you loved her?"
"I told him I wasn't hiding."
"But you said the word. Love." Rayna looked at Nicole. "He said that?"
"He said that," Nicole confirmed.
"And you—" Rayna turned back to Jaz. "You're just out here dropping L-bombs in coaching meetings now? Bold."
Jaz shrugged. "Felt right."
"Felt right." Rayna shook her head. "You're a different person. You know that?"
"I'm the same person."
"You're not. Old Jaz would've laughed it off. Made a joke. Gone home with someone random just to prove she didn't care." Rayna pointed a chopstick at her. "This Jaz stayed. This Jaz fought."
"She's still me."
"She's a better you." Rayna picked up her chopsticks again. "So. Nicole. Question."
Nicole finished chewing. "Shoot."
"You gonna be a regular at our games now? Courtside? Wearing her jersey?"
"I don't have a jersey."
"She'll get you one," Rayna said. "But seriously. You coming to games?"
Nicole looked at Jaz. "Am I?"
"You can," Jaz said. "If you want."
"I want."
"Then she wants," Rayna said. "Okay. Next question." She leaned forward, elbows on her knees. "You have single friends?"
Nicole smiled. Slow. That smile that meant trouble.
"I have friends," she said. "But they'd devour you."
"Devour me?"
"In the best way."
Rayna's eyes lit up. "Oh, I love a challenge."
Jaz tightened her arm around Nicole. Pulled her closer. "Find your own fling. Stop trying to steal mine."
"I'm not trying to steal Nicole. I'm trying to steal Nicole's friends."
"Same thing."
"It's not the same thing."
"It's close enough."
Nicole laughed, head dropping back against Jaz's shoulder. Rayna grinned and reached for the wine bottle.
"You're no fun anymore," Rayna said.
"I'm plenty of fun."
"You're domesticated."
"I'm in love. There's a difference."
Rayna paused. Bottle halfway to her glass.
"That's the second time you said it," she said.
"Said what?"
"The word. Love." Rayna finished pouring. "You don't even flinch anymore."
Jaz looked at Nicole. Nicole looked back. Something passed between them—quiet, warm, solid.
"I don't need to flinch," Jaz said. "It's real."
Rayna raised her glass. "Then I'll drink to that."
They ate. They drank. Rayna told stories about the team, about the freshman who thought she could talk trash and got humbled in warm-ups. Nicole told stories about her family, about her abuela who still called her every Sunday to ask if she was eating enough.
Jaz listened. Watched. Felt the weight of Nicole's body against hers, the heat of her, the easy way they fit.
The stew simmered on the stove, untouched. The dumplings disappeared. The wine bottle emptied. Outside, the sun sank behind the buildings, painting the sky in shades of orange and red.
Rayna checked her phone. Groaned.
"I gotta go. Study group in an hour."
"On a Saturday?" Jaz asked.
"He's strict. And I need the grade." Rayna stood, stretching. "Walk me out?"
Jaz untangled herself from Nicole. Followed Rayna to the door.
Rayna paused on the threshold. Turned. Her face was softer now, the teasing edge gone.
"You really love her," she said.
"Yeah."
"And she loves you."
"I think so."
"You think?"
"She told me."
Rayna nodded. "Then don't screw it up."
"I don't plan to."
"Nobody plans to." Rayna pulled her into a hug—quick, fierce. "But you've got a good thing. Don't let the coach or the scouts or anyone else make you forget that."
Jaz hugged her back. "I won't."
"Good." Rayna pulled away. "Now go back inside. She's waiting."
Jaz closed the door. Turned. Nicole stood in the hallway, robe loose, hair drying in waves around her face.
"We alone?" Nicole asked.
"All alone."
"Good." Nicole walked toward her. Slow. Deliberate. "Because I've been thinking."
"About what?"
"The thing you said. To your coach. About love." She stopped inches away. Close enough that Jaz could feel her breath. "You meant it."
"I meant it."
"I know." Nicole touched Jaz's face. "That's what scares me."
"Why?"
"Because I've been hurt before. By people who said the right things and then disappeared." Nicole's thumb traced Jaz's cheekbone. "So I need you to know—if you're in this, be in it. All the way. No running."
Jaz caught her hand. Held it. Brought it to her lips.
"I'm not running," Jaz said. "I'm right here."
"You're right here."
"Yeah."
Nicole studied her. Dark eyes moving across Jaz's face like she was memorizing it.
"Okay," Nicole said. "Then I'm right here too."
They didn't make it back to the couch.
Jaz pressed her against the wall, mouth hot on her neck. Nicole's robe fell open, and Jaz's hands found her waist, her hips, the soft curve of her stomach. Nicole gasped when Jaz's teeth grazed her collarbone.
"Again?" Nicole breathed.
"I can't help it."
"You're insatiable."
"You made me like this."
Nicole laughed—soft, breathless—and pulled Jaz's face up. Kissed her. Deep and slow and filthy.
"Bedroom," Nicole whispered.
"What about the dishes?"
"They'll wait."
"The stew—"
"Fuck the stew."
Jaz grabbed her hand. Pulled her down the hall.
This time, it was different. Slower. Jaz laid her down on the clean sheets—Nicole had changed them while Jaz was in the shower—and took her time. Kissed every inch of her. Worshipped her with hands and mouth and whispered words that didn't need to be loud to be true.
When Nicole came, it was quiet. A shudder. A sigh. Jaz's name on her lips like a prayer.
Then Jaz lay beside her, and they tangled together, legs and arms and breath.
The room was dark now. The city hummed outside. Mami the cat scratched at the door, then gave up and went away.
"We should do this more often," Nicole murmured.
"What? Have Rayna over for lunch?"
"No. This." She gestured vaguely at the bed, at them. "Being us. Without hiding."
"We don't hide anymore."
"You know what I mean."
Jaz did know. She could feel it—the shift. Something had settled between them. Something solid. Unshakeable.
"I know," Jaz said.
"Good."
Nicole turned on her side, facing Jaz. Her hand found Jaz's in the dark.
"Tell me something," Nicole said.
"Anything."
"Something real. Something you've never told anyone."
Jaz was quiet for a moment. The question hung there, waiting.
"I used to think I wasn't built for this," Jaz said. "For relationships. For love. Like—my whole life, I've been good at basketball. Good at school. Good at making people like me. But the one thing I couldn't figure out was how to let someone stay."
"And now?"
"Now I'm learning." Jaz squeezed her hand. "You're teaching me."
"I'm not teaching you anything."
"You are. Every day." Jaz turned her head. Met Nicole's eyes in the dark. "You're teaching me that I don't have to be perfect. I just have to be here."
Nicole was silent. Then she shifted closer. Wrapped herself around Jaz like she couldn't get close enough.
"I'm glad you're here," she whispered.
"I'm glad too."
They lay there. The night wrapped around them. The city hummed. And somewhere in the distance, a siren wailed, and a dog barked, and life went on—messy and loud and beautiful.
Jaz closed her eyes.
Tomorrow, there would be practice. There would be stares and whispers and questions she didn't want to answer. There would be a coach who meant well but didn't always understand, a team that loved her but didn't always get it, a world that wasn't built for people like her.
But tonight, none of that mattered.
Tonight, there was only this. Only Nicole. Only the steady beat of her heart against Jaz's chest.
Jaz slept.
And for the first time in years, she didn't dream of running.