Chris stops climbing and leads me down a little until he decides where he wants to sit. Releasing my hand, he gestures to the bench. “Let’s sit here. And yes, sorry, I should’ve clarified.”
The two teams are warming up on the court as spectators continue to wander in.
We take our seats, and I glance over at him, smiling. “It’s okay. I’m just surprised.”
He looks slightly uncomfortable. Taking a risk, I lay a hand on his thigh. It tenses under my palm, and I almost pull away, but his hand rests on top of mine, holding it in place.
“Are you alright, Chris?” I ask softly, concern for him growing.
His chest expands with his inhale, and his face shows visible signs of distress. It’s unsettling to see Chris, who, besides being overly serious and overworked has shown nothing but strength since I’ve met him, appear like he’s struggling with something heavy.
I squeeze his thigh, and his palm presses against me. “You don’t have to talk about it, but I’m here if you want to.”
He doesn’t say anything for a beat, but then he begins, “A friend I consider family has a grandson playing in this tournament today. My friend isn’t around. And I don’t get to see the kid much because his mom and I don’t exactly get along. But she couldn’t come today, so he invited me to come watch him.”
Just then, a lanky kid down on the court stops in front of us, his face breaking out into a wide smile. He waves while clearly trying not to look too excited. I glance over at Chris, whose smile matches the kid’s, but with a hint of sadness. He waves back and gives him a thumbs-up.
“That’s Seth,” he tells me.
When the kid returns to his warm-up, Chris looks at me, his eyes boring into mine so fiercely I feel the shift in energy between us. Like we just crossed over a threshold into something different. His hand raises and tucks my hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering a few seconds longer than necessary.
His dark eyes lower to my lips, and they part automatically. I swear he’s about to kiss me when a whistle blows somewhere down on the court. Dropping his hand, he turns back to the game that’s about to start.
Neither of us acknowledges what just happened between us, but he clasps the hand still on his thigh for the rest of the night. Never letting me go. And conveying everything left unsaid.
The game begins, and both of us seem to try to push that heaviness away and enjoy it. It doesn’t take long to figure out who the team’s star players are. Chris beams with pride when he comments, “I knew that kid was going to kick ass at sports. You should see him play baseball. It’s hard to believe, but he’s even better at that than basketball.”
I clap and yelp with excitement as one of Seth’steammates scores. “That is surprising because he is so good. I could see him getting a scholarship, no problem.”
Chris is leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. He looks back at me, a half-smile on his lips that I can’t help staring at. “Thank you for coming with me. It means a lot not to have to come to this by myself.”
Something in his tone has my heart breaking for him, and I wonder what the story is about why he and Seth’s mom don’t get along. There isn’t a doubt in my mind about how much Seth means to him. Chris breaks our eye contact and focuses back on the game. It’s getting close to the end, and as good as Seth and his team are, the other team is pretty good as well. So, the lead they’ve held for the most part is slim.
Even with this being a high school game, there’s this excitement in the crowd that makes the air feel more charged, and I love it. My eyes flick between the game and the scoreboard as the minutes tick by. I clasp my hands together and press them to my lips as my nerves grow.
Seth is at the far side of the court, and his teammate dribbles the ball a few times before passing the ball. It arcs through the air and is almost to Seth’s outstretched hands, a player from the opposing team jumps in front of him. It all happens so quickly, and before I exhale the breath I’m holding, Seth is sprawled out on the floor as the ref blows the whistle. The crowd, including Chris and me, jumps to their feet. Yells of displeasure echo around us.
“What the fuck?” Chris bellows.
I snicker as I grab his bicep. “I don’t think you can say that here.”
He looks down at me with a smirk, and my stomach flips. “I’m sure these kids have heard way worse.”
I return the smile and bite my lip. “You’re probably right. I know I certainly did.”
Chris dislodges his arm from my hold and wraps it around my shoulder. I settle into his side, enjoying the feel of his warmth and sturdiness against me. His hold on me increases as Seth lines up for his free throw. The din from the crowd dies down as Seth dribbles the ball a few times before easily sinking the shot.
The cheers grow, and the last minutes of the game pass quickly. Seth’s team easily keeps the lead, and their celebration is exuberant when the final buzzer sounds. Chris’s shouts of excitement vibrate through his body into mine.
When Seth breaks away from his team and jogs up the bleachers, Chris’s hand drops from my shoulder, but not before trailing down my back, causing goosebumps to erupt on my skin.
“Seth, great game, kid,” Chris calls out.
Seth grins and runs a hand through his sweaty hair, getting it out of his face. “I can’t believe you actually came.”
“Of course.” Chris places a hand on my lower back. “Seth, this is a friend of mine, Lily.”
I give him a little wave. “Seth, it’s so good to meet you. You are a heck of a basketball player.”
