Leila
I hear his grunts before I see him. The sound of the ball hitting the floor echoes throughout the court.
I shut the door behind me as quietly as I can. I’ve seen Aiden play before, I hardly miss a game, and when I go, I can’t keep my eyes off him. He’s so quick and clever out there. His maneuvers one of the best I have seen.
His sneakers squeak against the floor as he runs towards the net, bouncing the ball before he shoots, landing a three-pointer.
He’s so good. I decide to tease him though, waiting until I’m close to shout, “You can do better than that.” I stand near the seats, watching how he turns his head, brows furrowed as he tries to look for me.
His face lights up when he spots me, squinting at me. “Leila?” he says, a grin on his face. “What are you doing here?”
I shrug, not wanting to tell him I missed him. I’ve hardly seen him this past week, but telling him I miss him would only put pressure and expectations on this, and I like how it is between us. It’s easy, fun. “I wanted to see you play,” I say instead. “And by the looks of it, you’ve got more practice to do.”
He laughs, taking a step closer to me. “Are you criticizing my basketball skills?” he asks, lifting his brows.
I smile at him, his eyes widening when I do. “You know I used to watch basketball all the time with my dad, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” he says, raking a hand through his hair. “But watching and playing are very different.” He runs his hands over my waist. “I bet you couldn’t even score one basket.”
My brows lift. “You’re serious?”
He nods, grinning. “You’re a short little thing, not even half my height. No way you could sink a ball.”
I push at his chest. “I’m the tallest of my friends. You’re just huge.”
He lets out a laugh, running his hands over my waist. “Tell me how huge I am again,” he murmurs, leaning down to brush his lips against mine. “Fuck. I’ve missed you.” He has? Before I can say anything, he plants another kiss on my lips.
I hum, pulling back. “You need to practice.”
He shakes his head, nuzzling his lips against my neck. “I need to kiss you.” His lips trail to my jaw, leaving soft kisses before making his way up until he’s back on my mouth. God, this man can kiss. Just the brush of our tongues together makes me weak, lightheaded. He does things to me I don’t even know how to explain. It’s like I’m alive with him, like my every one of my bones vibrate whenever he’s around.
“No,” I say, attempting to catch my breath. “I’m not letting you waste time with me.”
“Worth it,” he mumbles, kissing me again. “You’re the best kind of distraction.”
I let out a laugh, pushing him back again. “I’m serious,” I say, giving him a smirk. “From what I saw, you need all the practice you can get.”
He laughs again, tightening his hold on me. “You bust my balls more than Coach. Come on then, baller,” he says, grabbing the ball from the ground and holds it up against his chest. “Let’s see what you got.”
Okay, I might have underestimated how easy it is because when Aiden throws the ball to me, I flinch, watching as it rolls outside the court.
“What the hell was that?” he asks in a fit of laughter, curling up.
“You’re trying to kill me,” I wheeze. “That came at me way too fast.”
“What happened to ‘you could do better?’” he asks, still laughing. “Not as easy as it looks, is it?”
I shake my head, determined to prove him wrong. “Let me try again.”
He shakes his head, grabbing another ball. “Come here.”
“Throw it to me. I can do it.”
“Leila, gorgeous, I say this in the most respectful way possible, but you can’t catch a ball to save your life. Come here before you hurt yourself. I’ll teach you.”
I raise my brows. “You’ll teach me?”
He nods, pulling on my arm until I’m standing in front of him, circling me with his arms as he holds the basketball in front of me. “Hold the ball.” I do as he says, grabbing the ball and hold it out in front of me, and he covers my hands with his. “Good,” he says, his breath hitting my neck and my body very aware of how his groin presses against my ass. He lets out a shaky breath. “Focus,” he says.
“I can’t.” It’s hard to concentrate or do literally anything else when he’s so close to me, whispering in my ear, his deep, gravelly voice making me feel a little dizzy. Fuck, is it hot in here?
“Look at the basket,” he whispers. I turn my head, focusing on the basket in front of me. “Now bring the ball closer to your chest, like this,” he positions our hands so the ball is pressed against my beating heart. “Now shoot.”
He drops his hands and I throw the ball, watching as it hits the backboard and falls to the ground, not going inside. I turn my head, frowning at him. “Okay, fine,” I concede. “Maybe it’s a little harder than I anticipated.”
He laughs, twisting me around and bringing his hands back to my waist. “You did good. For a beginner.”
I wrap my arms around his neck, his blue eyes pinned on me, making me feel dazed, feeling unsteady on my feet. “You’re so talented.” I let out a sigh.
His brows furrow. “That’s the first compliment I’ve ever heard from you. Are you okay?”
I nod, looking up at his beautiful face. God, why is he so beautiful? A strand of his brown hair falls onto his face, little beads of sweat coating his pale skin. “And you’re so pretty.”
He lets out a scoff, rubbing his thumb over my cheek. I love when he does that. “You’re the pretty one.”
I shake my head, wincing when I feel the room spinning when I move my head. I blow out a breath when I open my eyes and look up at him again. He’s so handsome, and so nice. Why did Aiden have to be so nice? Why couldn’t he have been a hot asshole? It would have made this so much easier.
My knees buckle and I stumble against him, Aiden’s hand gripping my waist. Why do I feel so dizzy? When I look up at him, he’s frowning. Why is he frowning? I want him to smile. I love when he smiles at me.
“Leila,” I hear him say. I can’t see his face properly, though. He’s all blurry, fuzzy. Are those stars? “Leila. What’s wr—”
My eyes flutter open when I start to regain consciousness, a foggy haze coating my blurry vision as I try to move. A heavy grogginess weighs me down and I struggle to shake it off, my head throbbing painfully when I do.
I blink slowly, trying to make sense of blurry surroundings, my vision gradually starting to clear, a dull ache pulsing through my skull when I attempt to sit up, realizing I’m in some sort of clinic.
“Careful,” I hear a female voice somewhere around me. I feel a hand holding me upright, helping me to sit up. “You need to take it easy.”
Her concerned face looks down at me. I hear another voice, a distant buzz in my ears. I open my mouth to speak, but my throat feels dry and scratchy. The woman turns around, holding a plastic cup with water in front of me. “Here,” she says, “This might help.”
I grab the plastic cup, gulping the water down, trying to piece together what happened. I don’t remember anything except going to the basketball court and seeing—
I see Aiden standing above me, leaning over to cup my face in his hands. “Fuck, Leila.” His voice is thick and full of emotion.
I blink up at him, adjusting to the light coming through the giant windows. “What happened?” I ask him.
He rubs his thumbs over my cheeks, his brows drawn together, like he can’t bear to let go. “You don’t remember?” he asks.
“No?” I look back at the woman, watching as she takes off her blue gloves and gives me a sympathetic smile.
“You passed out,” Aiden says, making me look back at him. “You were stumbling over, talking absolute crap and then you fell in my arms.”
I gulp, clenching my fists together. “For how long?”
He shakes his head, blowing out a breath and shrugs. “I don’t know, like ten minutes? I brought you here as fast as I could.” He scans my face, running his hands all over me. “Are you ok?”
“It can happen,” the nurse says, both our heads turning to look at her. “If you haven’t eaten in a while, your blood sugar can drop.” She picks up a flashlight in her hands. “Just let me check your reflexes. Look directly in front,” she says, flashing the light in my eye. She moves the flashlight around, assessing me. “Good,” she says, turning the light off. “You’re going to be fine.” She smiles at me.
“So, she’ll be okay?” Aiden asks.
The nurse nods. “Her body just felt weak, that’s all,” she tells him, turning to face me. “Just make sure you don’t wait too long before eating. Your boyfriend was very worried about you.”
“Oh, we’re not—”
“Thank you,” he says to her instead. “Can we just have a moment?”
“Sure,” she says. “You’re all set. When you’re ready, you can leave.” She closes the door when she exits, leaving just the two of us in the room.
Aiden takes a step back, blowing out a harsh breath. “Are you feeling better?” he asks me.
I nod. “I’m fine. I’m sorry.”
His shoulders drop. “Don’t apologize for passing out, gorgeous.” I grab the plastic cup and sip some more water, watching how Aiden rubs his jaw, glancing at me. “What did she mean before?” he asks.
My head lifts. “About what?”
“About you not eating.”
My face drops, my blood cooling as he stares at me. “Aiden—”
“Have you been starving yourself?” he asks.
“Aiden, no.”
“I swear to god, Leila. If you’ve been malnourishing your body because you want to lose weight, I’m going to fucking lose it.”
“I didn’t—”
“Why would you do that?” he asks, throwing his arms up. “You need to eat. You need food,” he says, taking a step closer to me. “You’re hurting yourself by doing that.”
“I haven’t been starving myself.”
He stops, staring at me. “You haven’t?”
“No,” I say on a sigh.
He visibly relaxes, his shoulders dropping as he blows out a breath. “Then what did she mean when she said you weren’t eating?”
I shrug. “I forget sometimes.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “You forget sometimes,” he repeats. “How the fuck does that happen, Leila?” he asks, running a hand through his hair. “How do you just forget to eat?”
I close my eyes, pressing my fingers to my forehead. “Stop,” I whisper. “Please don’t be mad at me. I just… I feel so lightheaded.”
“Fuck, Leila.” He drops to his knees in front of me, grabbing my face in his hands. “I’m not mad at you. I just got so scared. Don’t do that again.” His voice breaks. “You passed out. That’s some serious shit.”
“It’s not that serious. It’s happened before,” I say trying to appease him.
His hands freeze on my face. “You’re saying you’ve forgotten to eat before?”
“Sometimes.” What I don’t tell him, what I won’t tell him is that a small part of me feels proud when I forget to eat. My stomach cramps at the admission. I don’t think I even realized it, but I feel like I’ve succeeded when I forget to feed myself.
“That’s not going to happen ever again,” he tells me, lifting himself off the floor and grabs onto my hand, pulling me off the exam table.
“Where are we going?”
He stops and turns back to look at me, his jaw clenching. “We’re going to get you a massive fucking plate of food and I don’t want to hear a single word about it. Got it?”
My eyes widen at his authoritative tone. It’s kind of hot. My lips twitch when I nod and say, “Yes, sir.”
A light smirk appears on his face when he looks down at me and he blows out a breath, pulling me into him and wrapping his arms around me. “Remind me when you’re feeling better and we’ll circle back to that sir comment.”
“I’m feeling better right now,” I say, looking up at him.
He smirks, shakes his head and leans down, pressing his lips to my forehead. “Come on, let’s get you some food.
