I had to see on social media that Leo punched a reporter. I haven’t talked to him about it, but he was benched in our last game. He finally gets to play in our away game.
The bus hums with excitement as we file aboard, the laughter of my teammates bouncing off the walls like echoes of familiarity, but all I can focus on is the space beside me where Leo’s presence lurks—potent and unsettling. The distant chatter grows dim as I buckle in, my heart racing beneath the fabric of my jersey, replaying the memories of our kiss. The two worlds feel impossibly close yet a chasm apart, and I bracemyself for the ride ahead, filled with a concoction of adrenaline, trepidation, and anticipation.
The bus vibrates beneath us, the engine thrumming like the pulse of a wild beast ready to spring to life. I catch snippets of conversation weaving around me: predictions about the games, tales of past trips, and playful jabs that underscore the camaraderie built over countless practices and shared victories. There’s a comfortable rhythm to it all, a shared heartbeat pulsing through the team, and yet, my mind remains anchored in the uncharted territory of the connection I share with Leo.
“Hey, Nash!” A teammate leans over, nudging my shoulder. “You ready to take down New York?”
“Always,” I reply, forcing a smile that feels tight across my lips. The cheer in his voice contrasts with the storm brewing within me, but I manage to slip into the banter's groove, my thoughts flickering briefly to Leo as he settles into a seat across the aisle. His expression is effortlessly cocky, leaning back in his seat as if he owns the space, drawing laughter from our teammates as they toss playful remarks his way.
Our eyes meet for a fleeting second, and it sends a jolt through me—remnants of our kiss crashing against the floodgates of my carefully maintained facade. I quickly turn my attention back to the chatter surrounding me, but I can feel Leo’s gaze on me, an invisible thread tying us together in a web of anticipation.
Leaning next to me, Leo hands me a bag of m&m’s.
“What’s this?” I ask.
“I think you need to indulge sometimes. Live a little. You said you loved them,” he points out.
I think back to that conversation we had during the press conference. I had mentioned that I loved M&M’s, but I never imagined he would remember that. The gesture is sweet and means so much to me.
As the bus rolls forward, the scenery outside blurs past, moments and places slipping away until we’re immersed in our shared world of exhilaration and nervous energy. I try to ignore the fluttering sensation taking root in my stomach each time I feel him shift in his seat, that magnetic pull growing stronger as we careen down the highway.
“Alright, team! Let’s go over some strategies before we hit the hotel,” Coach Reynolds announces, pulling my attention back to the task at hand.
After what feels like hours of analysis and planning, we reach New York. The city spreads before us like a sprawling canvas, filled with bright lights and enticing possibilities. “Here we go!” someone shouts, breaking the spell and pulling us all into the present, excitement bubbling to the surface as the bus rolls to a stop.
We pile out, the night air thick with anticipation. The streets are alive, a whirlwind of sights and sounds that captures the city'spulse, but amid the buzz, I feel the familiar tightness settling in my chest.
Later, we check into the hotel, and I can feel the tension heightening as we split into pairs for the night. It’s surreal being so close yet so careful. Leo walks in behind me, and I can sense his presence thickening the air, igniting that same spark that lingers between us. These are the moments I’ve grown to love.
I live for these moments.
As I set my bag down and take a deep breath, Leo leans casually against the door, his gaze unwavering. “Well, here we are,” he says, a soft smile ghosting his lips.
If only our teammates knew what we were doing together in here…
“Yeah,” I reply, my heart hammering against my ribcage, unable to shake the impending sense of confrontation looming in the air.
“Nash, are you coming?” someone calls, echoing from down the hall, breaking through my thoughts, and I turn my focus back, reluctantly tearing myself away from the sensation of Leo's presence.
“Yeah, I’ll be there in a second,” I reply, knowing we have to tread carefully as this game we’re playing grows more intricate with every passing second. As we move toward whatever comes next, I can feel the undeniable reality hanging in the air.
***
The hotel lobby buzzes with exhilaration, the scent of victory thick in the air as we flow into the bustling space, the elation of our overtime win sparking joy in every laugh and cheer. I stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Leo, adrenaline surging through my veins, hearts racing, and it feels as though the world outside has faded into oblivion. The echoes of laughter and shouts fade behind us, yet as I glance at Leo—his eyes sparkling with mischief and the thrill of the game—I know that genuine excitement lies ahead, cloaked in the shadows waiting for us in our room.
“Did you see that last shot?” he teases, stepping close, his breath brushing my ear, and the lingering tension from earlier amplifies under the weight of the victory. “That was pure skill.”
“Yeah, skill,” I reply, trying to match his playful tone, though my heart beats erratically at his closeness, desire flickering beneath the surface. “But you couldn’t have done it without me guarding that last goal.”
He laughs, and it’s infectious, cascading through the lively atmosphere around us, yet it sparks something deeper within me—a thrilling reminder of our shared moments.
The ride in the elevator is charged, filled with banter and the buzz of victory, but when the doors slide open, and we step into the quiet corridor, that electric charge shifts into something more intimate. We reach our room, and as the door closes behind us, it feels like an entire world shuts out, leaving just thetwo of us, suspended between possibility and the weight of our unspoken desires.
The hotel room envelops us, two beds divided by a small nightstand, the muted noise from the city filtering in through the windows, while I feel the air grow thick with anticipation. Leo moves fluidly, unbothered, but my pulse quickens as I watch him shed the cocky facade, leaving behind the adrenaline from the game. We’re finally alone.
“So, what now?” I ask, barely finding my voice as my heart races beneath my jersey. It feels surreal to be here, so close, yet the weight of everything we’ve shared builds between us like an unsaid invitation. The last time we were in a hotel room together, we got drunk and had hot shower sex.
“Now we celebrate,” he replies, grinning as he pulls a bottle of champagne from the mini-fridge, its coolness glowing against the warm light. I can see the glimmer of mischief in his eyes as he pops the cork, a spritz of bubbles cascading into the air, and suddenly it feels as if the gravity of our connection sharpens, driving us further toward something uncharted.
