Courtside Hearts

Dangerous and addictive

Kia’s alarm sliced through the darkness at five-thirty.

He silenced it with a low growl, staring at the shadowed ceiling as the weight of another sleepless night pressed on him. Not from grief this time. From her. Ava. The woman who had burrowed under his skin and refused to leave. Dangerous. Addictive. His.

He dragged a hand down his face and rose, moving through the quiet apartment with purpose. Teeth brushed. Training gear on. When he stepped into the kitchen, Rosa was already there, efficient as always.

“Morning, Kia.”

“Morning.” His voice came out rougher than intended.

Rosa arched a brow, handing him his protein smoothie and gym bag. “That’s offensive. You’re smiling.”

Kia didn’t deny it. The reason for the shift had soft blonde hair, warm brown eyes, and a laugh that stripped away every wall he’d built. Very f*****g annoying. And very necessary.

The drive to the training facility felt charged. At every red light, his fingers itched to check his phone, hoping for another message from her. The memory of her voice last night,easy, teasing, real,settled something warm and possessive in his chest. He wanted more. He wanted her.

The locker room buzzed with exhaustion when he arrived.

“Look who decided to show up,” Dutton muttered, lacing his shoes.

Kia shoved his shoulder with controlled power and headed to his locker. Practice hit like a storm, drills, defensive pressure, full scrimmages. But today he dominated differently. Sharper. Hungrier. Every shot left his hands with lethal precision and swished through the net.

Coach Reynolds blew the whistle at the end, studying him with crossed arms. “Kia. You played like a man on a mission today. Whatever’s fueling this… keep it.”

Teammates exchanged glances. Dutton snorted. “Oh, we know exactly what it is.”

Kia threw a towel at his head, the locker room erupting in laughter. He didn’t bother correcting them. They were right.

After a quick shower, Kia changed into ripped dark jeans and a fitted black polo that stretched across his broad shoulders, the fabric hugging the hard lines of muscle and the ink trailing down his forearms. His hair was still damp, tousled from the towel, when he grabbed his keys.

Dutton’s eyes narrowed. “Where the hell are you rushing off to looking like that?”

“Somewhere.” Kia’s tone left no room for questions.

“That’s suspicious as hell.” Dutton grinned, falling into step anyway. “It’s café girl, isn’t it? You got dressed dressed.”

Kia ignored him and picked up his pace. The truth burned hotter than he wanted to admit. He needed to see Ava. The late-night texts kept replaying in his mind—her laugh, the way she teased him back, how she made the world feel lighter. No games. Just her.

The bell above the café door chimed as he stepped inside. His gaze locked on her instantly.

Everything else disappeared.

She looked different today. Blonde waves cascading over her shoulders. Subtle makeup making those warm brown eyes pop. Lip gloss catching the light with every movement. She glowed. Dangerously, irresistibly beautiful.

Ava glanced up from the register. Their eyes met, and the slow smile that spread across her face hit him like a full-court press to the ribs. She walked toward him with deliberate steps, hips swaying just enough to test his control.

“Hey, basketball boy.”

Kia leaned against the counter, towering over her, his dark eyes holding hers without mercy. “Keep calling me that,” he said, voice low and rough, “and I’ll kiss you right here in front of everyone.”

Ava faltered, heat flooding her cheeks.

Kia’s lips curved into a smirk. He loved breaking her composure. Loved knowing he could.

“You look different today,” he murmured, gaze tracing her face slowly, possessively.

“In a bad way?” Her voice wavered under the intensity of his stare.

“No.” He reached across the counter, brushing a stray wave of hair behind her ear, letting his fingers linger on her skin. “More beautiful. Dangerous, even.”

Her lips parted on a soft inhale. Then she smiled shyly, glancing down. “You look good too. No hoodie. And your tattoos…” Her eyes traced the ink on his forearms. “They’re beautiful.”

Kia raised an eyebrow, amused. “Beautiful?”

“You know what I meant,” she muttered, cheeks burning.

He chuckled, the sound low and warm, reserved only for her. “Did it hurt?” she asked, still staring.

“Not really, sweetheart.”

The endearment hit her visibly. She cleared her throat, shifting under his heavy gaze. “Thank you again for the tickets. I called my dad this morning—he nearly lost it.”

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s sweet,” she said softly, sincerity wrapping around his chest like a vice.

Kia reached for the bag he’d set beside him. “I got you something.”

Ava blinked. “You didn’t have to,”

“Ava.” His voice dropped, commanding. “Open it.”

She obeyed, peering inside. Her breath caught.

“Kia…”

She pulled out the jersey—Kingston 11—and ran her fingers over the fabric with quiet reverence.

“I want you wearing it Saturday.” His tone left little room for argument.

Ava looked up, a spark of playful challenge in her eyes. “Trying to claim me, basketball boy?”

The tease nearly snapped his restraint. The answer came out raw, possessive, before he could cage it.

“You’re already mine, Ava.”

The words hung between them, thick and electric. The café noise faded. Only the heat in her eyes and the rapid rise of her chest remained.

Ava stared, crimson flooding her face. Kia held her gaze, unapologetic. He’d crossed the line,and he didn’t regret a damn thing.

“I’ll… get your coffee,” she whispered finally, clutching the jersey to her chest like a secret.

Kia watched her retreat, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips.

The second Ava reached Mia behind the counter, she shoved the jersey at her friend.

Mia gasped. “OH MY GOD.”

“Stop yelling,” Ava hissed, fighting the uncontrollable smile tugging at her lips.

“He bought you his jersey?!” Mia grabbed her arms. “I’m already planning the wedding. Make me chief bridesmaid.”

Ava laughed helplessly. “You’re insane.”

“And he’s completely obsessed with you.”

Ava tried not to look. Failed.

Kia was still watching her. Intently. Hungrily. Like he was already imagining Saturday. Like he was already imagining more.

Thirty minutes later, when he stood to leave, Ava walked him to the door, her pulse thundering. She searched for something to say, anything to keep him there a second longer.

Kia didn’t give her the chance to speak. He stepped into her space,too close, too commanding. His tall frame overwhelmed her senses. Then he leaned down and pressed a slow, deliberate kiss to her cheek, lips lingering just long enough to make her knees weak. His cologne,clean, masculine, addictive,wrapped around her like a claim.

Ava’s skin burned where his mouth had been.

Kia pulled back just enough to smirk down at her flushed face, eyes dark with promise. “Wear the jersey Saturday, sweetheart. I want everyone to know who you belong to.”

He walked out, leaving her frozen in the doorway while Mia’s excited scream rang out behind the counter.