Boys Like Him

Why not?

By the time he returned, the court felt enormous and empty, the echo of bouncing balls and shouts was gone, leaving just the faint scent of sweat and polished wood. I was the only one left, perched on the edge of the bleacher.

Then he appeared, jogging lightly across the court, damp hair plastered to his forehead, tank clinging to his sculpted frame. My stomach did an immediate flip, a little drop like the first time you realize you're standing at the edge of something thrilling and terrifying.

"Hey,"

"Hey," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady.

He sat beside me, close enough that I could smell the faint cologne and soap. My pulse sped again.

"So," he began, a lopsided grin tugging at his lips, "you came?"

I laughed, surprised at how easy it came. "I did," I admitted.

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor a second before looking up. "Nyelle... about the kiss."

My stomach flipped.

"I f****d up," he admitted quietly. "I took something I had no right to take."

I blinked, caught between surprise and wariness.

"I shouldn't have done it. You didn't ask, and I... God, I scared you. I can't stop thinking about it, not the kiss itself, the part where you panicked and ran. That's on me. All of it." and it's not the kind of thinking I'm proud of." His jaw clenched, and his fingers twitched.

"I... I've been an i***t, expecting something from you that wasn't yours to give. I know it probably felt like I was just... assuming you'd go along with it, and that's not me, I swear, that's not how I... I'm sorry. Truly."

I felt my chest tighten, the words hitting differently than I expected. He looked... genuinely small under my gaze, vulnerable in a way I hadn't anticipated.

"I..." I tried to speak, but my voice caught.

He pressed a hand to his chest, right over the spot where I could feel the rise and fall of his earnestness. "I want you to know I regret it. Not because I didn't get what I wanted, but because I crossed a line, and you deserved respect. You still do. I don't want this to... to ruin anything between us."

I swallowed, mind spinning. His sincerity was almost disarming. I nodded slowly. "It's... okay," I whispered, surprised by the ease with which I let it out. "I accept your apology."

A flicker of relief softened his usual grin, and he gave me a small, genuine smile. "Thank you. And... I don't want us to be on bad terms."

I raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"

He tilted his head, a quiet laugh brushing past his lips. "Because, despite my idiocy, I think there's... something here. And I want to fix it. To start over, properly. You're my neighbor, and I want the chance to actually know you. Without any stupid assumptions or... missteps."

Something fluttered in my chest, a nervous but thrilling pull. "Alright," I agreed. "Let's start over."

He grinned. "Good. Starting fresh. Together."

I glanced at him, nerves jangling, and forced a small smile. "Thanks... for apologizing," I said softly, careful not to let my voice waver too much. I fidgeted with the strap of my bag. "You were... good today."

His lips curved into a genuine, almost shy smile at that, and I felt a flutter. "I'm glad you think so," he responded. "I meant what I said. About... wanting to make things right."

I nodded, still catching my breath from the awkwardness and excitement of everything earlier. "I should... head to class," I murmured, reluctant to break the spell of the moment but knowing I had to.

"Of course," he sighed. "Go on. I'll walk you part of the way."

He fell into step beside me, close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from him but far enough to respect the invisible line I still desperately needed. The hall smelled faintly of waxed floors and morning coffee, students shuffling past in their cliques, laughing and jostling each other. All of it blurred into background noise because my focus was entirely on him.

He pulled out his phone. "You... uh," he started, scratching the back of his neck. "I was wondering... maybe I could get your number? You know... just in case we..." His words faltered slightly, but his eyes never left mine.

I felt my fingers twitch inside my bag strap. My heart had kicked up a notch. I wanted to say no, to play it cool, but the warmth of his presence made that impossible.

My thumb hovered over the screen, and he gave me the smallest, patient nod.

Finally, I tapped in my number, my breath hitching as I handed it to him. "Here," I whispered.

He took the phone carefully. "Thanks," he replied softly, that signature lopsided grin tugging at his lips, but there was an unmistakable softness in his tone. "I... I'll text you. Soon. Promise."

I nodded, cheeks burning as we fell silent for a moment, the noise of the hallway suddenly returning like a tide rushing back in.

"See you later, Nyelle,"

I managed a small smile, clutching my bag tighter as I watched him turn down the hall.

My phone buzzed before I reached the classroom door.

Hey. It's Lloyd. Fresh start officially begins now.

I bit my lip to hide the smile.

Then another text, seconds later.

Also... you cheering today? Hottest thing I've ever heard on that court.

Heat flooded my head to toe.