Chapter 7
Nia
I leaned my head back against the seat for a second after starting my truck, letting the blast of the air conditioning hit my face while I exhaled slowly.
Then there was David. Unexpected. Persistent.
Interesting enough to completely throw me off my game.
The premium white orchids sitting secure in my passenger seat didn’t help either, their faint, luxury scent acting as a constant reminder of him.
Neither did the way I kept replaying our conversation in my head, smiling despite my best efforts.
And then, of course, there was Cal. Breaking our little “let’s stop sleeping together” agreement after two months of hard-fought distance probably wasn’t my smartest decision.
Especially because now, everything between us felt different.
More intense somehow. Like something fundamental had shifted during that phone call earlier, and neither one of us knew how to address the sudden, sharp edge between us.
I rubbed my forehead lightly before pulling out into the evening traffic. Instead of heading home to my apartment, though, I found myself driving across town toward Lincoln Park without even really deciding to. My hands just guided the wheel on pure instinct.
The old neighborhood looked almost exactly the same as it did when we were kids.
Streetlights glowing softly against the darkening Texas sky.
Music drifting from a porch somewhere nearby.
Kids still outside playing way too late.
The second I pulled into the asphalt lot, familiarity wrapped around me instantly, bringing a rare wave of comfort.
I climbed out slowly and looked toward the empty court sitting underneath the buzzing, bright overhead lights. Perfect. I grabbed the basketball from the backseat before pulling my hoodie over my head and kicking off my sweats, leaving myself in fitted workout shorts and a loose t-shirt.
For the next hour, I let the stress of the clinic bleed out onto the concrete. Cross. Step back. Pull-up jumper. Perfect release. Swish.
I moved through the drills alone, letting muscle memory take over my body completely as sweat began to glisten across my legs.
Basketball was still emotional for me, whether I admitted it to anyone or not.
Losing the WNBA dream after the surgeries and the silence that followed had cut deep into my soul, but out here under the harsh lights, I could finally breathe freely.
I drove hard toward the rusted rim again, my sneakers squeaking sharply against the pavement before finishing a clean layup.
As I landed lightly, a deep, familiar voice cut through the quiet night air.
"Okay, Shot!" Cal said, using the childhood nickname that always managed to disarm me. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”
I froze slightly, the basketball trapped securely between my hands and my hip, before turning my head toward the edge of the court.
Cal was standing there with a duffle bag over one shoulder and another basketball tucked underneath his arm like he belonged in this exact moment.
Which honestly… he did. Leaning against the fence, he watched me out of the shadows.
And even sweaty, catching my breath under the unforgiving, harsh court lights…
his gaze hit me with an intensity that made my chest tighten all over again.
I shook my head immediately, trying not to smile. “What are you doing here?”
He shrugged casually while stepping onto the court. “Needed to clear my head.”
“Copycat.”
He laughed softly, the low sound echoing in the open air. “This used to be my court too, remember?”
I rolled my eyes while spinning the ball against my palm. Lincoln Park had practically raised both of us. Summer tournaments, late-night games, arguments, talking trash until somebody almost fought—too many memories lived on this court.
Cal looked around slowly before his eyes landed back on me. “You still got the same jumper.”
“And you still foul too much.”
“That’s because you move too fast.”
I laughed softly before taking another shot from the elbow. Swish. His eyes followed the ball through the net.
“You miss it?” he asked quietly.
The question landed heavier than I expected. I looked down at the basketball in my hands for a second, feeling the rough texture under my fingertips, before answering honestly. “Yeah.”
Cal nodded slowly, like he already knew that.
Because he probably did. He’d seen the aftermath of everything.
The surgeries. The frustration. The nights I cried thinking nobody knew.
Basketball was the only thing I ever truly planned my life around, and losing the WNBA after my injuries felt like losing a version of myself I never got to fully become.
Before I could sit in the thought too long though, Cal suddenly knocked the ball right out of my hands and took off toward the basket.
“Oh, you still playing dirty!” I yelled, laughing and chasing after him.
He finished the layup smoothly before turning around, grinning. “I’d beat you now.”
“You wish.”
And just like that, we fell right back into our old rhythm, playing one-on-one underneath the bright park lights like no time had passed at all. Talking trash constantly. Arguing over fouls. Neither one of us calling the game fairly.
“Travel!” I yelled.
“That was not a travel.”
“You literally dragged your pivot foot.”
He laughed while tossing the ball back toward me. The game stayed playful for a while until somewhere in the middle of fighting over a rebound, the energy shifted.
I jumped for the ball at the same time he did, and suddenly his hands settled against my hips to steady me. My breath caught instantly. Too close. Too familiar. His chest pressed lightly against mine while both of us stayed still for a second too long. I looked up slowly.
Bad idea. Because Cal was already staring at me with that look again. The one that always made me forget my own rules.
“Who sent you flowers?” he asked quietly near my ear.
I laughed immediately, trying to break the tension while pushing lightly against his chest. “Boy, if you don’t hush it up.”
But he didn’t move. If anything, his hands settled more firmly against my waist. “You got a man now?” he asked.
“I’m serious.”
“You’re being nosy.”
“I'm not nosy, I'm just concerned.”
“That is definitely not what this is.”
His lips twitched slightly like he was trying not to smile. And there it was again. That weird tension between us that hadn’t existed before. Or maybe it always had and we were just finally noticing it.
I stepped back first and grabbed the ball before things could get too intense. “We agreed on this months ago,” I reminded him carefully.
“You agreed,” he corrected immediately.
I looked at him for a second longer than I meant to. Because underneath the joking, he sounded serious, and that scared me a little.
I stepped back quickly, trying to regain some kind of composure before tossing the ball against the pavement again.
“Come on,” I said. “Stop acting old and guard me.”
Cal laughed under his breath before dropping lower into a defensive stance.
“Oh, I’m old now?”
“You’ve been old.”
“Still prettier than your little flower boyfriend.”
I burst out laughing.
“You are unbelievable.”
“No, I’m serious.”
“That’s the problem.”
I drove left suddenly, but Cal slid in front of me immediately, his body pressing against mine hard enough to stop my momentum completely.
My breath caught.
God, he felt good.
Warm.
Solid.
Too solid.
And the worst part was that my body reacted instantly.
His gray sweatshorts hung low on his waist while his T-shirt clung lightly against his chest from sweat, and when he shifted against me again, I felt him growing harder through the thin material.
Heat instantly rushed through my stomach.
I tried ignoring the feeling curling slowly between my legs, but my body had always betrayed me around Cal.
Always.
“You distracted?” he asked quietly.
I rolled my eyes even though my heart had started beating faster.
“In your dreams.”
He stepped closer anyway until his mouth brushed near my ear.
“You smell good even when you sweat,” he whispered.
I shivered immediately.
Lord.
“You’re such a creep,” I muttered, trying not to smile.
He laughed softly against my skin, and the second his guard dropped, I reversed quickly and drove past him toward the basket.
“Got you,” I yelled, finishing the layup clean off the glass.
Cal turned around slowly, shaking his head while a grin spread across his face.
The look on him almost made me miss the shot entirely.
Because Cal wasn’t regular handsome.
He was the kind of fine that made women stare too long.
Six-five.
A clean fade that was always sharp.
Big, almond-shaped eyes that somehow looked soft and dangerous at the same time.
Full lips.
Perfect teeth.
A jawline carved by God Himself, honestly.
And a body that looked unfair in literally anything he wore.
Always had.
Even back in high school, girls used to practically lose their minds over him walking through the hallways.
The annoying part?
He knew exactly how attractive he was.
I scored again at the rim and immediately threw my hands up.
“Count it.”
Cal groaned dramatically while grabbing the ball.
The truth was, one thing I hated more than anything was losing to Cal because he’d literally never stop talking about it.
Ever.
“You know you’re still one of the best hoopers I know, right?” he said, spinning the ball in his hands.
The compliment caught me off guard slightly.
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
I smiled faintly, trying not to let it affect me too much.
“Thanks, Caleb.”
His eyebrow lifted immediately.
“Caleb?”
I shrugged innocently.
“That’s formal of you.”
I pushed against his chest lightly while laughing.
“Whatever.”
I bent down, grabbing my hoodie from the bench nearby.
“I should probably head home. I gotta get up early.”
“Or…” he started casually, stepping closer, “you can come shower with me and make sweet love until the crack of dawn.”
I burst out laughing instantly, even though my stomach flipped in the worst way.
Or the best way.
God.