Chapter 3
I'd promised to treat Lucas to dinner as a thank you. And one day I got a message from him asking about it.
Lucas: [Is tonight good for you? And I've got a basketball game today. Wanna come see?]
It all clicked. That explained why everyone was rushing to the gym.
Just then, a text from my brother Ethan lit up my screen: [Josie, your ridiculously good-looking brother is about to play in a basketball game. Come cheer me on!]
By the time I made it to the court, the place was packed and buzzing. The crowd was roaring, a mix of voices chanting "Ethan!" and "Lucas!"
I quickly spotted them: Ethan in a black jersey and Lucas in white. The contrast between them wasn't just in their colors—it was in their entire presence.
I considered slipping away unnoticed, but Ethan has a radar for me. At halftime, he sprinted over and pulled me right into the spotlight.
He snatched the water bottle from my hand and threw his sweaty jersey at me. Instantly, we were the center of attention.
He wouldn't stop griping, "Man, what took you so long? You're always dragging your feet. I've been waiting forever."
I picked up the damp jersey with two fingers, my face scrunched up in disgust.
When I looked up, my eyes met Lucas's. A flicker of hurt in his gaze sent a pang of guilt through me. I'd just told him I wasn't coming.
He masked it instantly, turning away to kneel and tie his shoe. His hands were tense, veins prominent, and the laces trembled from how tightly he was pulling.
The second half was pure tension. Lucas played with a savage intensity, and Ethan, never one to back down, matched him step for step.
In the final seconds, Lucas sealed the game with a monster dunk.
Ignoring the erupting chaos, his eyes found mine and held them in a long, intense stare before he finally turned and walked off the court.
Ethan muttered, "Damn, what is his problem?"
I just stood there, completely lost for words.
*****
Typical Ethan. He ditched me for his friends but still managed to con me into going back to the gym for his stuff by dragging up that old debt from my coming-of-age ceremony. The guy has no shame.
The locker room was chilly and silent, the air feeling thick. And there he was, Lucas, standing alone in the dim light.
His eyes locked onto me, glittering. He sounded a little shaky. "Josie? Did you come looking for Ethan? He's gone."
I shook my head. "I'm not here for him."
When he stood, he instinctively grabbed his stomach with a low groan.
"What's wrong? Are you hurt?" I moved in closer and noticed just how pale he was.
His gaze intensified, his voice soft with a barely-there whine. "I'm fine. Just a scratch."
But it wasn't. I could see the bloodstain on his shirt. He lifted it to reveal two nasty gashes cutting across his defined abs, still oozing blood.
"You need to deal with this," I said, frowning.
"Mm," he just mumbled, his lips a tight line, looking so unsteady on his feet. "I can manage. It's okay."
An unexpected wave of concern hit me. "I'll go with you."
He looked up, eyes wide and surprised. "Really? Are you okay with it?"
I froze for a second. Man, with those eyes, he could make anyone feel special. I let out a soft laugh. "Yes, it's fine. Let's go."
He gave me a quiet, obedient nod, but then his eyes darted to the cold soda I was holding.
He licked his lips, his gaze flicking playfully to mine. "I'm so parched. Honestly, I'm jealous of Ethan having a whole line of people bringing him water."
I was totally thrown. There was literally a crowd of girls trying to give Lucas water just a while ago.
I hesitated. "Uh, do you want this? I just took a sip, so only if you don't mind..."
Before I could finish, Lucas just took the bottle straight from my hand. "I don't mind at all."
Then he drank from it. Directly. My brain short-circuited, my cheeks flushing. I'd assumed he'd pour it!
A slow, teasing grin spread across his face. "Thanks. It tastes good."
I was left completely stunned, without a single word in response.