Page 3 of Full Court Love
But on the court, I’m unshakeable. Or at least I used to be. This guy is making me doubt a lot of things I used to view as gospel truth about myself.
I don’t want my game derailed by some dumb romantic trope, so I step farther and farther out, avoiding any accidental contact and hitting three after three until I make the game winner.
Right in his face.
He grabs the final rebound and chuckles as everyone starts high-fiving. Tom comes up behind him and squeezes his shoulders.
“Sorry, young man—we don’t like to warn newcomers. It’s way more fun for us to see this little lady embarrass people. It provides us with some much-needed entertainment.”
I can’t help but smile a little. I love my little YMCA family. The new guy chuckles.
“No apology necessary. I enjoyed the entertainment too. I definitely like a girl who can put me in my place.”
I feel the color rush from my neck into my cheeks. This teasing is now bordering on flirting, and I don’t do flirting. Mainly because I don’t know how. It’s not lost on me that heindirectly said he likes me, or at least the fact that I’m good at basketball–I think.
How do I respond to a roundabout compliment like that?
Do I bat my eyelashes? I’m pretty sure they’re drenched in sweat at the moment—along with the rest of my body—which is not the sexiest look in the world.
Mercifully, Jeff saves me. He wraps an arm around me protectively.
“We sure are proud of our Lu-Lu.”
My cheeks burn, but I can’t even be annoyed that he used my mom’s special nickname for me. He’s told me on multiple occasions that I remind him of his daughter who passed away a few years ago. After my dad’s death when I was in middle school, I always wanted to find someone like him to look out for me.
“Lu-Lu, huh?”
Jeff raises his eyebrows. “Lucy Townes. Does that ring a bell?”
The new guy shrugs, but I see laughter in his eyes. Jeff, however, looks utterly flabbergasted.
“You don’t know who this is? Do you live under a rock?”
Tom shakes his head. “Man, I thought this kid seemed like he knew basketball. But if he doesn’t know who the best shooting guard in the country is, clearly he’s just a poser.”
He winks at me as he says it. The newcomer nods, obviously amused and entertained, holding back a chuckle.
“Wow, the whole country. Now I don’t feel as bad about getting embarrassed by you.”
Every time he speaks, my pulse picks up. He’s throwing me a lot of compliments after his first impression of straight trash talk.
I’m not super focused on his words, though. I keep getting distracted by his face. My eyes keep dipping below his gaze as he talks. I can’t help but watch his mouth and wonder what it would be like to feel his lips on mine. It’s an oddthought, considering I haven’t kissed anyone in years. I’d be happy to make an exception for him.
Snapping back to reality, I realize everyone is grabbing their gear, and I’m still standing here stuck in a fantasy not fit for a basketball court.
I sit down and untie my shoes, hoping the gym will clear out. Staring at the floor, I notice a shadow approaching. I briefly close my eyes, trying to slow my ever-increasing heart rate. He stops in front of me and slowly bends down, lowering his head to the level of mine. At this moment, I notice that the gym has fully emptied. Now we’re alone.
My chest is rising and falling much too aggressively, and I know he must notice. It’s blatantly obvious. I won’t even allow myself to meet his eyes, but he seems to have something else in mind.
He leans toward my ear, the woodsy scent of his cologne wafting over me. It conjures up images of lumberjacks and flannel and bonfires–basically every smell that could possibly turn a woman on. Great.
His lips stop just short of my ear, and I’m sitting like a frozen duck. He seems to revel in this moment before he finally speaks.
“Just so we’re clear, I know exactly who you are.”
This revelation breaks my trance and I finally turn to look at him, my face betraying my obvious confusion. Why did he pretend he didn’t? What kind of game is this?
Before I can come up with a coherent question, he takes off toward the door. With one last look back at me, he waves.