I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had so much fun during a one-on-one game. There was no pressure or expectations. Just two guys, a basketball, and enough snark between the both of us to power a solar grid.
By the time we were tied for the winning shot, every inch of fabric I had on was drenched, and Derek’s hair looked like he’d lost a fight with a blow dryer. Strands were plastered to his forehead and stuck up in places from sweat, and for someone who probably spent ten minutes getting his look just right this morning, it was like he didn’t even care it was a mess now.
He currently had the ball, but I was right on top of him. By this point, I had used up all my quick tricks, but I tried repeating my move from earlier that scored me the ball anyway. And he was ready for it. Derek used my fake against me, taking off toward the hoop like a man possessed. Luckily, I was able to pivot and get into his space before he reached the line. Just as he let the shot go, I stretched my arms out, feeling the ball graze over my fingertips as it sailed toward the net.
It hit the rim, rolling precariously and we both collectively held our breath for the final verdict.
“Fucking please,” Derek murmured beside me, barely audible, but the desperation clear.
There was something about it that killed me, and I couldn’t hold back my smile at his competitive need to win. Itwas something we shared in common. But, just then, the ball dropped through the net.
I groaned dramatically, folding in half like my soul just left my body. “Nooo… my pride. My legacy. My flawless record of exactly one game!”
Derek let out a triumphant holler before promptly flopping onto his back on the cement, panting like a man who left everything on the court.
“Fuck, I am beat.”
He pulled the hem of his shirt up to wipe his face, flashing a set of very defined abs and a strip of nearly black hair that trailed down under the waistband of his joggers. My eyes darted away quickly. Those abs looked incredibly lickable…
Except, I wasn’t going there. I’djusthad a full internal PSA with myself about boundaries this morning.
Making a beeline for the water bottles, I reminded myself that the friend-zone was a great place for Derek to live. I just needed a minute after that game to get my head on straight. Some hydration and mental recalibration would do me wonders.
When both of us had cooled off and weren’t dying of the heat, I suggested we hit Main Street to get lunch. What would a tour of town be if we didn’t stop in some of the incredible eateries along the way? I don’t know if my aptly timed stomach growl clued him in that we should eat first, tour second, but he was more than willing to do just that.
Once we were all packed up and heading to the car, I felt like Imightjust survive this whole living situation after all, so long as I kept thinking with the head on my shoulders and not the one between my legs.
Westwend’s Main Street had an air of timeless charm that drew the tourists in from the moment they turned onto it.There was an ever-present aroma of freshly baked bread from Toast of the Town, one of the local breakfast and brunch places, that mingled with the seasonal blooms that hung from flower baskets adorning the wrought iron street lamps.
Banners were often hung across the street showcasing upcoming town activities and festivals that fostered a sense of unity and pride amongst the permanent residents of Westwend. In the evening, when the sun set low and the street lamps came on, the area was cast in a warm glow that really highlighted the magic of living in a small town.
Toast of the Town had been a Westwendian staple forever. It’d been purchased three years back by a non-local couple who’d given the inside a much needed facelift. They’d knocked down the old diner’s cramped layout, swapping it for something airer and bright, while keeping its charm.
T&T, what locals affectionately called Toast of the Town, had an iconic mural on the side of its building that faced Main. In deep navy tones, the vintage piece depicted a 50s woman holding a steaming cup elegantly with the words ‘Mmm! So good!’ in sprawling script arching over her. Visitors were often caught snapping photos with the lady of the town. The locals had all collectively breathed a sigh of relief when the new owners had paid to have her restored rather than painted over.
Derek and I strolled down toward T&T while I gave him the lowdown on how the town was laid out and about the farmer’s market that was held every Saturday on the lawn of Town Hall. He listened with a quiet focus, hands shoved into the pockets of his joggers, taking in every landmark like he was building a mental map. We were stopped more than once by a few local women, eyeing Derek with interest, but I managed to get us back on course after some short introductions.
Halfway to our destination, we passed a group of tourist girls who collectively gave him a full once-over. As he and Imaneuvered by them, a few openly attempted to catch his attention. But, Derek either didn’t notice or didn’t care.
Stepping inside T&T, the scent of butter and coffee blanketed us immediately. Norma, the hostess, led us to a small table tucked near the back of the open floor plan. The place was buzzing, as usual.
“You’re going to have to tell me all about living in a big city sometime.” Norma cooed over Derek, placing our menus in front of us. He just gave her an apprehensive but polite smile. Taking that as agreement, she fluttered off back to the hostess stand.
Sandra came by to collect our drink orders, batting her thick lashes at Derek after learning he was the new resident lawyer. Once again, he’d just humored her with a small smile that had her giggling all the way back to the kitchen.
We were chatting casually over our drinks, after Sandra dropped them off with a wink in Derek’s direction, when I caught the same group of girls from earlier a few tables over. They were staring at Derek like he’d just walked off a magazine cover.
I smirked and bit the end of my straw, leaning back in my chair. “You attract a lot of attention, ya know?”
Derek looked up, frowning slightly. “What?”
“You’ve been flirted with by basically every single girl since we got onto Main and now this,” I jerked my chin toward the table behind him. “That group of girls we passed earlier? They followed you in here. And they’re lookin’ at you like you’re on the damn dessert menu.”
He shifted a little, glancing over his shoulder. One girl immediately ducked behind her menu while the rest burst into a chorus of laughter. He sighed and shook his head.
“What?” I grinned, leaning forward. “Embarrassed?”
“No,” he retorted, matter-of-fact. “But, I’m definitely not going to entertain that.”
