Full Court Love (Love on the Sidelines #1)

13. Lucy

CHAPTER 13

LUCY

I always play better on the road. I’m not totally sure why. I’ve always hypothesized that it has something to do with the removal of the pressure I feel from playing in front of people I know. I don’t really care what a gym full of strangers thinks of me.

So, I play looser and freer.

And happier.

I definitely play better when I’m happy.

It also helps that we went 3-0 on this road trip. Those three wins against UCLA, USC, and Stanford catapulted us into the Top 25 in the nation. We’re playing well and gelling well as a team, despite the constant cloud of Sasha’s hatred toward me. Sometimes other people step into her line of fire, but mostly it’s just me.

Now that she knows Jordan and I are–well, whatever we are–she’s sunk her teeth into tearing him down with me. I gotta give it to her, she knows how to pick her spots. When I won Player of the Week and the whole team was congratulating me, she put on a fake sad face and said she’s glad Jordan’s poor performance last night didn’t rub off on me.

I stared at her for a few seconds before attempting to change the subject. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t work. Sasha proceeded to tell everyone how Jordan’s bad shooting probably has something to do with his dad and the reason he left his previous school. For the next ten minutes, she aired his dirty laundry for everyone to hear.

It was a gross miscalculation on her part. Instead of people judging him, everybody just felt sorry for him, myself included. It made me feel a little bad for ghosting him this week. As I grab my bag from underneath the bus after pulling into the arena parking lot, I try to justify my course of action to myself. Which essentially means, I start having a silent argument with only me as the accused, accuser, judge, and jury on the walk to my car.

I needed Jordan to know I was serious about this. I refuse to waste my time. If he really wants something with me, it’s going to take more than extra tacos and walking to class. The only problem is, I didn’t say any of that.

I just left him with a drop-the-mic moment.

It was epic, if I do say so myself.

Though the communication certainly left something to be desired, and I’m really feeling guilty about that.

I’ve been hoping all week that he would read between the lines. That he would pick up on the unspoken call to action. What I failed to recognize until now is that the way I went about this was rather unfair. I want something from him and this potential relationship, but I didn’t articulate it. I just left him to guess.

At this point, either he figured it out or he gave up on me. I probably need to gear up to apologize for my terrible communication skills and bad relationship navigation in general. Or maybe this just means he isn’t the guy for me. Good grief, that notion is a downer. I toss my bag into the trunk and wave to a couple of my teammates. After being together nonstop for the last week, having the day off tomorrow is a godsend .

I plan to collapse into bed right when I get home, even though it’s only 6:00. I park on the street in front of our cute little house. The white picket fence enclosing our yard is chipping, and the grass needs to be mowed, but still, it’s the most picturesque little cottage to come home to.

Calling it the Boat makes it sound like a massive behemoth, but it is the furthest thing from it. It’s cozy, with wooden flower boxes and a small front porch with a rickety set of chairs we got at a garage sale. I couldn’t love this place more.

Kya is sitting on the couch when I walk through the door. She stands up and wraps me in a hug, although her little arms can barely reach up to my neck. Her red hair is in a messy bun that tickles my nose.

“Welcome home, Luce. We missed ya!”

I give her a tired smile. “I missed you guys too. And my bed. I really missed my bed.”

I take a step toward my room. Kya stops me and gently pushes me toward the stairs.

“Don’t kill me, but before you go collapse, there’s a box of stuff you need to go through. KJ went on a cleaning spree and wants to donate any of the gear we don’t want anymore.”

I groan. “Please don’t make me.”

“It’ll be so quick. I promise.”

Shuffling slowly, I descend into the basement. Why did they have to pick now, of all times, to get rid of stuff we’ve had down here for over a year? It’s not like it was bothering anyone.

I turn the corner at the bottom of the stairs and gasp.

Our basement has been transformed.

I’m staring at an at-home movie theater setup that looks like it was pulled right off Pinterest.

There are white twinkling lights lining the walls, a projector is set up and paused on the opening scene of the first Harry Potter movie, and the vast majority of the basement floor is covered in pillows and blankets. Did my roommates do all this?

Then the answer appears. Jordan steps out from the basement storage closet holding a basket of snacks–great move on his part–and a coffee–even better move. He has a sheepish smile on his face, and it’s cute as hell.

I’ve never seen him look unsure like this before.

It’s actually a good look on him–but then every look is a good look on him and I should probably be more focused on the fact that he’s in my basement trying to feed me. Wow, it’s like someone has been reading my dream journal.

You know, if I had one.

A super-sexy guy waiting to cuddle me (I hope) and give me all of my favorite foods. That’s got to be a top-five dream. My expression must be betraying my not-so-wholesome thoughts, and Jordan’s face relaxes ever so slightly.

“Welcome home, Lucy. You need to stop me right now if I misread the signals.”

My face breaks into a smile, and I give a small shake of my head. He continues with more confidence.

“You said I need to work harder for you, and you’re right. So, would you like to go on a date with me? Preferably right now?”

I scrunch up my face as if this decision warrants any consideration beyond an overeager yes. I can’t even pretend to hesitate, though. “I’d love to.”

“Perfect.”

He stumbles across the mound of blankets like a baby deer learning to walk, barely keeping the coffee upright in the process. Bringing my hand up to my mouth, I try not to laugh. Upon reaching solid ground, he attempts to lift his arms up like a gymnast landing a flip.

After applauding, I snatch the coffee from his hands.

“10/10 performance and 10/10 for remembering coffee. Veteran move. ”

I start guzzling it down without breathing.

Jordan’s eyes widen. “Oh, wow. I thought I was going to have to pitch to you that just this once, you could justify drinking coffee this late so we can watch a movie and hang out, but never mind.”

I look up from the cup and give him a satisfied grin. “I will drink coffee anytime, anywhere, for any reason.”

He points at me with a bemused expression. “Noted.”

He then settles into the blanket canyon and pats the spot next to him. I snuggle in as he unloads the box of snacks. He has enough for an army. Chocolate, gummy worms, popcorn, chips, Oreos, and even beef jerky–basically all my favorite things.

I hold up a couple items that are rather specific to me–salt and vinegar chips and Kit Kats. “How’d you know?”

Shrugging nonchalantly, he winks. “I guess I just know you really well. That, and I consulted your roommates and the Warners. Apparently, you have very well-known tastes.”

I hold up the Oreos. “Yes, I know. Not everyone can be so refined.”

He throws his arm over my shoulders and draws me into his chest. “I mean it, you know. I want something more with you.” His tone is sincere again.

He kisses the top of my head, and the air in the room turns. Joking and flirting have become heat and tension.

I lift his hand to my mouth and run my lips over his fingers. “I want more too.”

His breathing is quickening, and I can hear his heartbeat picking up, keeping pace with my own. His fingers are now gliding down my cheek, tracing every feature. When he reaches my chin, he gently turns my face toward his.

Our noses brush, and our breath mingles. His lips are slightly apart as he leans down toward me. I close my eyes, but before I feel his mouth on mine, he whispers, “Can I kiss you now? ”

I barely breathe out my yes before I finally get to taste him. He kisses me like he’s been waiting forever for this. The further I sink into him, the more I want. His tongue softly grazes my lip, and I let out a sigh as I pull him closer to me. I feel his lips smile at my reaction. I’m like putty in his hands, and he knows it.

Wrapping his hands around my hips, he pulls me so I’m sitting on his lap, straddling him, arms wrapped around his neck. His hands are on my waist, holding my body against his. His hands move up my back and into my hair. I feel the intensity rising with every move we make. Every time our tongues graze each other, when I gingerly bite his lip, when he kisses up my jawline–I just want more.

His hands move from my hair to cupping my face. He delicately pulls my head a few inches away from his own and kisses my forehead. His lips stay there for multiple seconds and then he drops so our foreheads are resting together. I’m smiling like a fool. I sneak a look at him and happily see that he is too.

We sit there in that moment of intimacy, arms still wrapped around each other, foreheads pressed together, breathing finally slowing down. He breaks the silence by pulling me back down to his side, arm still wrapped around me and drawing me into him.

We both laugh.

I’m definitely blushing. I can feel the heat burning my cheeks.

He reaches his arm across and grabs my hand, playing with my fingers.

“You know, I’ve wanted to do that ever since I first saw you.”

“Hmm. Yeah, I could tell.”

He cocks an eyebrow, a mischievous look playing across his face. “Oh, really? ”

He finds my sides and digs his fingers in, tickling me until I can barely breathe. Gasping with laughter, I finally give in.

“Okay, okay! I wanted to kiss you too. There, are you happy?”

He settles into the pillows, and my head is back on his chest.

“Yes, thank you so much for asking. I’m incredibly happy right now.”

We tear into the snacks and start the movie.

I look back up at him and get slightly choked up at the realization that no one has ever done something like this for me before. He put in so much work just for me. Every thoughtful detail pulls at the walls I’ve got built up around my heart.

“Hey, Jordan. Thank you for all of this. I don’t want to get emotional because you’ve already seen that side of me and she doesn’t need to make yet another appearance, but truly, this means so much to me.”

He kisses my hand in response. “Oh, Lucy, you ain’t seen nothing yet. This is just the beginning.”

Well, damn.

I have no words, so I turn my attention back to the screen.

The Harry Potter movies are full of nostalgia for me because I watched them all with my dad. It was the first series I completed right when I learned to read. Sitting here watching this with Jordan feels like a full-circle moment.

I think my dad would’ve liked him. I really hope so. I settle into Jordan, and my eyelids grow heavy. That coffee could only do so much. The last thing I remember is Neville breaking his wrist before I can’t fight it anymore.

Sleep comes fast.

And my feelings for Jordan might be coming even faster.