Practice had just ended.
Players were scattered—some still shooting, some talking, some already halfway into their post-practice chaos.
I should’ve been focused on my interview notes.
I wasn’t.
Because I saw him immediately.
Mason.
Towel around his neck, hair slightly damp, moving off court with that same controlled pace like nothing ever really rushed him unless he allowed it.
Jace was beside him, talking animatedly about something I couldn’t hear.
I told myself I wouldn’t look at him directly.
That lasted maybe three seconds.
Because then Mason slowed.
Just slightly.
Not enough for anyone else to notice.
Enough for me to.
His eyes landed on me.
Then shifted.
Not away.
Not fully.
Just… moved.
To the person standing beside me.
Caleb.
“Hey,” Caleb said, holding up two coffees like it was nothing important. “I grabbed you one.”
“For me?” I asked.
“Yeah. You looked like you were going to bite someone yesterday. Thought caffeine might help.”
Serena, standing a few steps behind us, made a sound that was way too loud to be subtle.
I ignored her.
“Thanks,” I said to Caleb.
His fingers brushed mine when he handed it over.
Normal.
Probably normal.
