Boys Like Him

Thrill

I couldn't look away. He was everywhere at once, moving, pivoting, launching, laughing, and yet somehow every motion was enthralling. My eyes followed the ball as if it were tied to him with invisible strings, every swish of the net making my chest tighten.

He smiled after nearly every basket, that little triumphant grin that made my stomach flutter, that subtle thrust of his shoulders like he owned the moment. And that tiny happy dance he did after sinking a shot? I caught myself leaning forward, toes curling against the edge of the bleacher, unable to stop myself from watching.

The squeak of his sneakers against the polished wood echoed through the gym, punctuated by the shouts and laughter of his teammates.

The way he called the plays, gestured, barked playful insults at his friends, it was... intoxicating. He wasn't just good, he was alive here. And I couldn't stop staring.

I felt my own pulse spike, warm heat crawling up my neck, cheeks flushing. Every time he shot, I held my breath like the air itself was wrapped around him. I clutched the edge of the bleacher as if gripping it could somehow tether me to reality.

I shifted in my seat, thighs pressing together awkwardly, feeling a heat that had nothing to do with the gym's sweat and everything to do with him. And I realized, with a strange, dizzying shock, that I wasn't just watching a game, I was watching him. Watching Lloyd Luxen, and somehow, impossibly, wanting to be part of it all, even if just by existing in the same space, trapped in this spiraling fascination.

And when his eyes flicked in my direction, I felt that pull, that magnetic tug, the kind that makes your chest tighten, and your thoughts scatter.

I shifted again, trying to focus and act casual, but it was useless. He was mesmerizing. Entirely, completely, utterly him.

Lloyd launched the ball from the far corner, the arc perfect, spinning like it had been rehearsed a thousand times. It kissed the rim and dropped through with that clean swish that made my stomach flip. I jumped to my feet, clapping as hard as I could.

"Yes! Go, Lloyd! That's how it's done!"

My voice cracked halfway through, higher than I intended, and the sound ricocheted across the court like a flare.

And then... silence.

A million eyes landed on me. The coach, cheerleaders, and team. Even Lloyd, mid-dribble, paused and looked up at me. My heart stopped. My hands froze in mid-air, heat flooded my face, ears, every inch of me. I could feel my stomach twisting.

"s**t," I muttered under my breath, sinking back into my seat too fast, trying to disappear into the bleachers. I curled my fingers into the edge of the wooden seat, nails digging in, as if the pain could somehow erase the memory of being caught.

I'd just made myself a spectacle, cheering like a fool in front of everyone.

He came over immediately after the practice ended, the heat radiated off him even from a few steps away. Sweat clung to his hairline, streaked his forehead, and glistened along his neck as he slid onto the bleacher beside me. I couldn't tear my eyes away, the way the veins on his hands flexed as he grabbed the water bottle, the slow bob of his throat as he swallowed, the dark lashes brushing against his cheeks. My chest tightened, n*****s peaking in protest, and I clenched my hands in my lap, trying to will my body back under control.

"Don't be mad," he croaked out.

"I wanted to ask if you could... wait a bit. I need to hit the showers first, and then I can talk to you properly."

I blinked, caught between panic and curiosity, and nodded. "I... okay. I can wait," I murmured, my voice sounding small even to me.

He gave a quick, lopsided grin that made my stomach flip before sliding off to join his teammates. The way he moved, the confident swing of his shoulders, the casual ease with which the guys laughed and followed him, it all felt like a show I wasn't supposed to be watching, but couldn't stop myself from.

As soon as Lloyd vanished down the hallway toward the locker rooms, my shoulders sagged with relief, finally letting out the shaky breath I hadn't realized I was holding. I closed my eyes for a fraction, trying to steady my racing pulse, and then...

A shadow fell across me. I looked up.

Her ponytail pulled tight enough to hurt, stance wide, eyes narrowing. Her lips curled into a smirk that didn't reach her eyes.

"Are you his latest sidepiece?" Her voice was calm, but the venom in it made my chest tighten, my stomach flip.

I froze mid-thought. "Huh?"

She leaned slightly, the smell of her perfume, sickly sweet with a metallic bite, striking my senses. "Are you and Lloyd f*****g?"

The words hit harder than I expected. My mind stumbled, scrambling over disbelief, embarrassment, and an urgent need to defend myself. "What? No! Ew, what? Why would you even ask me that?"

Her gaze didn't waver. Every line of her body radiated dominance. "I don't know if I believe you," she replied slowly, letting each word hang like a knife, "but honestly? I don't care. Back. The. f**k. Up. He's mine."

My throat went dry. My palms itched to grab something, anything, to steady myself, but I couldn't move.

I opened my mouth, stammering, heart hammering. "I... what are you talking about?"

She stepped closer again, and I caught the subtle sway of her hips, the snap of her towel-clad fingers. Every detail she wore screamed confidence, a world I didn't belong to, and suddenly, the bleachers felt smaller.

"Back the f**k away from him," she punctuated each word.

And just like that, she spun on her heel, hair flicking like a whip, leaving me sitting there, frozen.

I sank back onto the bleacher. My thoughts were a mess, confusion, fury, embarrassment, and something I hated even acknowledging, a sliver of jealousy that had no right to exist.

Who the hell was she to Lloyd? And why did the very thought of her standing there, making claims, make my body tighten in a way I didn't want to admit?

Every nerve in me buzzed, the memory of Lloyd's touch, his smell, his laugh mixing violently with the weight of this other girl's presence. .. my chest felt heavy.

And for the first time, I felt like I was completely, entirely in over my head.