Wasn't Expecting You

Blacktops

We played first to 22, Joey won of course. He may go easier on me, but I would never expect him to let me win.

Our hoodies were abandoned long ago and I was really wishing I had of known what we were doing because I could have used a sports bra or at the very least a crop top right now for the way I was sweating.

Joey was shirtless.

That could be the other reason I lost, his body was incredibly distracting.

"So your dad taught you to play?" He asked while we guzzled down water.

"Yeah. He was the high school team coach and he loved basketball. We were already really close, but basketball was our thing together. We played on a court just like this one," I reminisced.

"What happened to him?" Joey asked softly in a tone that was curious, but also accepting if I didn't want to say.

"He died in a boating accident and drowned. I was 11."

"Sorry to hear. I get the feeling he was an amazing dad."

"He really was. Everything I do, is for him. To make him proud."

"I think he would be extremely proud of you. Your strong, independent, driven to succeed and smart, plus your 3 point shot is near perfect. You could teach a few of the guys some technique with that!"

I placed the lid on my water bottle and looked up at Joey, only to find he was already looking at me. I couldn't read his eyes in that moment, but with the way he was looking at me, I felt the butterflies starting again in my stomach. Suddenly I was very conscious of how I looked, covered in sweat, red face from running and wild hair.

I ran my eyes down Joey's torso, taking in his strong arms, sculpted 6 pack and the perfect v shape that sent the tingles even lower. Scanning back up, I met his eyes again. I noticed his eyes flicked between mine and my lips, then back up again. I needed to break this spell, this moment.

"So, why bring me here? Why not the stadium?" I said, deliberately turning away from him. I didn't know how much self control I had left to not jump on him.

"It's peaceful here. I usually come here to be alone. The first place people look for me is the stadium courts. Coming here helps me relax, I hoped that it would help you too," he explains.

"It has helped. Thank-you," I smiled.

"You have to stop thanking me. I'll get a big head or something," he laughed.

"Oh it's too late for that, you are way too far gone. Lucky you work out really, you need a strong body to hold up that big head of yours!"

"You wound me, Walters," he said, holding a hand over his heart.

"Come on you dork, take me home. I'm exhausted! It's been months since I ran around this much. It's going to take a week to recover!"

We gathered our things and made our way back to the car. I felt a little deflated when I watched him put a t-shirt back on.

Fifteen minutes later and we pulled back into the student carpark. My dorm was in the opposite direction to his place, so this is where we would say goodbye.

As he turned the car off, we both sat, neither making a move to leave just yet. That awkwardness was back again. I reached down and grabbed my bag, bringing it to my lap.

"I know I've said thank you a tonne of times, but seriously, thank you. You helped me last night and you've helped me today. Maybe we can play again some time?"

"I'd like that," he replied.

Our eyes locked again, a small smile on both our faces. Again, his eyes flicked to my lips, then back to my eyes.