Chapter 21 After The Game

Chapter 21 After The Game


Chapter 21 —lAfter the Game

Ava’s POV

The gym was finally quieting down. The echoes of cheers and whistles faded into murmurs, leaving only the sound of my own heartbeat hammering in my chest. I sat on the edge of the bleachers, my hands gripping the metal rail so tightly my knuckles hurt, and tried to calm myself.

I couldn’t.

I couldn’t calm the way my chest felt full, tight, and simultaneously light. My mind replayed everything—the game, Ethan’s movements, the way his eyes never left Alex, never left me, even for a second. And that look he gave me afterward… the one that made my stomach drop and my heart feel like it might explode… I couldn’t stop thinking about it.

I wasn’t proud of how much my thoughts were consumed by him. Not proud at all. But I couldn’t help it.

I glanced at Alex. He was leaning against the wall near the bleachers, tossing the basketball from hand to hand, trying to act casual. His smile was easy, effortless, but I could see the faint crease of frustration around his eyes. He had tried to make the match lighthearted, playful… but he knew, deep down, Ethan had won.

And not just the game.

I swallowed hard, guilt and excitement twisting together inside me.

I looked down at my hands, trying to force myself to think about something else—anything else—but my thoughts kept drifting back to Ethan. The way he had moved like he owned the court. The way he had seemed… untouchable, yet all for me.

And then I remembered the way he looked at me afterward. That brief glance, calm, unreadable, yet filled with something I couldn’t name. Protective? Possessive? Proud? I didn’t know. But it had made me feel… seen.

I shook my head, trying to push the feelings away.

Stop. You can’t let yourself feel this.

I could almost hear my own voice warning me, my internal armor clicking into place. Being cared for… feeling safe with someone… that wasn’t for girls like me. People like me didn’t get to feel protected. People like me survived on their own. And I had survived before him. I could survive now.

I told myself that over and over, but it didn’t make the warmth in my chest go away. It didn’t stop the way my thoughts kept circling him, like a moth around a flame.

And then he came.

I felt it before I saw him—the calm, commanding presence that seemed to fill the air. Ethan. He didn’t rush toward me. He didn’t yell or stomp across the floor. He simply walked, steady, confident, his eyes scanning until they found me.

I froze.

For a moment, I felt that strange mixture again—fear, excitement, warmth, and the undeniable pull of wanting to be near him. My hands clenched my backpack straps so tightly I thought I might crush them.

“Hey,” he said softly, stopping just a few steps away. His voice was calm, low, and it made my chest tighten.

I looked up slowly, trying to act casual, even though my heart was betraying me. “Hey,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

He didn’t smile. Not fully. But there was a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth, subtle enough that only I might notice. And yet, it made my stomach twist in a way that made me dizzy.

“You looked… proud,” he said quietly, his eyes narrowing slightly as they met mine.

I blinked. “I… I was. You… you were incredible.”

He tilted his head, his gaze sharp. “Proud?” There was a small edge to his voice now, almost imperceptible, but it made my heart jump.

“Yeah,” I said quickly, trying to explain, to reassure. “You… you were amazing. Everyone was watching. Everyone was cheering. I… I couldn’t help it.”

Ethan’s eyes flicked away for a moment, and my chest sank. Was he annoyed? Or… was that something else? Something more?

He looked back at me, calm, composed, but I could see it in his eyes now—a tiny spark of something I hadn’t seen before. Jealousy.

My heart skipped a beat.

I blinked, trying to force my mind away from the dangerous thought. Ethan… jealous? Him? Impossible.

“I… it’s not like I was cheering just for you,” I said, laughing softly, though my voice shook a little. “I was… I mean… it was impressive. Anyone could see that.”

He didn’t answer immediately. He just tilted his head slightly, his sharp gaze scanning me in a way that made my stomach twist and my cheeks burn. There was something in his silence that said more than words ever could.

“You know,” he said finally, voice low, deliberate, “you don’t have to hide it. I saw the way you cheered.”

I laughed nervously, looking down at my hands. “I… I’m not hiding anything.”

“Uh-huh,” he said, voice calm, almost teasing, but with an underlying intensity that made my heart hammer. “Sure. Keep telling yourself that.”

I swallowed hard. My mind was spinning. Why did I feel both safe and terrified all at once? Why did my chest feel like it might burst just from hearing his voice, just from seeing the way he looked at me?

“Ethan…” I started, my voice trembling slightly, “thank you… for today. For… everything. For being… you know… amazing.”

His eyes softened for just a moment. “It’s nothing. You… you make it easy.”

I blinked at him, confused. “Easy?”

He nodded slightly, calm, unreadable. “You… care. You notice things. You… pay attention. You’re not like everyone else. That’s… easy to care about.”

My stomach lurched. Easy to care about. Just the words, whispered so casually, made my chest ache. I wanted to lean in, to say something, to tell him… I don’t know what. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t let myself.

“Yeah… well… maybe I notice too much,” I said softly, trying to laugh it off. “Maybe that’s my problem.”

He didn’t respond. He just stood there, calm, composed, unreadable. And yet… I could feel the tension in the air. That quiet, subtle possessiveness that made me feel… small, yet protected. Safe.

And I hated it.

Because being cared for like this, feeling seen, feeling… desired, made me feel exposed. Vulnerable. Something I hadn’t allowed myself in years.

I wanted to step back. I wanted to tell him I could handle everything on my own. That I didn’t need this. That I didn’t need him.

But every time I thought that, my heart betrayed me.

“I… I should go,” I said finally, forcing my voice to be casual, light. “I have… homework… stuff to do.”

Ethan’s gaze didn’t leave mine. “You don’t have to go,” he said softly, almost a whisper. “You can… stay.”

I shook my head quickly, forcing a small laugh. “No… I really should. People are watching, and… I have to go.”

He didn’t argue. He didn’t push. He just nodded slightly, and I felt a strange ache in my chest.