I Walked In on the Basketball Star Showering

For ninety grueling minutes, I sat completely rigid. A heavy, burning stare drilled into the back of my neck, hot enough to brand my skin.

Professor Davies paced across the lecture hall stage, his voice droning on about nineteenth-century prose. I didn't hear a single word. My pen hovered over my blank notebook, my knuckles white from gripping the plastic barrel too hard.

Every time I tried to focus on the lecture slides, a large figure bumped in my mind.

I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing myself to stare straight ahead.

Lucas Hayes sat directly behind me, his massive frame taking up entirely too much space in the cramped row. I could hear the faint squeak of his chair as he leaned back, completely relaxed, watching me panic.

My skin prickled. The heat radiating from him felt like a physical weight pressing against my spine.

The final bell finally blared through the overhead speakers, cutting off the professor mid-sentence.

I didn't wait for the dismissal. I snatched my canvas tote off the floor and shoved my notebook inside, zipping it with frantic speed. I spun toward the aisle, ready to sprint out the double doors and disappear into the crowded campus square.

Lucas closed the distance in two massive strides.

He planted his large frame directly in my path, caging me between the edge of the wooden desk and the cinderblock wall. The sharp scent of cedar mixed with warm sunlight radiated off his skin. It was aggressive. Imposing. It filled my nose and scrambled my thoughts, dragging me right back to the steam-filled showers from the night before.

I gripped the strap of my bag like a shield. "Move."

He didn't speak. He didn't even flinch. He simply flicked his chin toward the aisle.

His three massive teammates took the hint immediately. They grabbed their duffel bags, clamped their hands over their mouths to hide their grins, and vanished out the door.

Maya stood frozen in the next row, clutching her textbook to her chest.

Lucas shifted his gaze to her. He raised a single, dark eyebrow.

Maya gave me a deeply apologetic wince. "Sorry, El," she squeaked, scurrying after the basketball players and abandoning me completely to the wolves.

The lecture hall emptied in record time. The heavy wooden doors clicked shut, leaving just the two of us in the echoing silence.

"Step aside, Hayes," I demanded, forcing my voice to stay level.

I kept my chin tucked, refusing to meet his eyes. Instead, my gaze landed squarely on his chest. The thin cotton of his gray athletic shirt stretched taut over thick, solid muscle. Every breath he took drew the fabric tighter across his broad torso. My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs, loud enough that I feared he could hear it.

Lucas braced his hand on the back of my chair. He leaned down, trapping me further in his shadow. The heat of his mouth brushed the edge of my earlobe.

"Leave?" His voice rumbled low, vibrating through the quiet room and sending a shiver straight down my spine. "And let you keep broadcasting my body measurements to the whole campus?"

I squeezed the strap of my tote harder, my palms sweating. "I wasn't broadcasting anything."

"But you see how sexy I am now, Elena." He tilted his head, his lips hovering inches from my skin. "How are you going to compensate me for my ruined purity?"

I snapped my head up to glare at him. Big mistake. His face was entirely too close. I could see the faint gold flecks in his gray-blue eyes, the sharp angle of his jawline, the slight curve of his arrogant smirk.

"That was an accident!" I shot back, my cheeks burning. "You sneaked up on me. What exactly do you want?"

He reached into the back pocket of his jeans. Long fingers unfolded a crinkled stack of stapled pages.

He held it up right in front of my face.

My eyes widened. It was my midterm essay for Literature History. A bright red A-plus sat circled at the top of the first page, right next to my name. I had turned that in three days ago.

"Where did you get that?" I reached for the paper, my nails scraping against his knuckles.

Lucas lifted it higher, easily keeping it out of my reach. "Simple."

"Give it back."

"Come and get it." He held it just out of reach.

"You are acting like a child."

"I'm a guy who needs a tutor." He tapped the red ink on the page with his free hand. "The NCAA has a strict minimum GPA requirement for its athletes. And my Literature History grade is currently failing."

"That sounds like a personal problem. You should try studying."

"I am trying." The smirk played on his mouth again, infuriating and confident. "Which is why I want you as my private tutor. One-on-one."

"Impossible." I crossed my arms, putting a tiny, useless barrier between us.

"Nothing is impossible."

"This is." I glared at the paper in his hand. "I already told you, I don't have the time to fix your academic disasters."

"Make time."

"I work two part-time jobs just to afford groceries and rent." I stepped to the side, trying to find an angle to escape.

He shifted his weight, his broad shoulder blocking my path once again.

"I have to keep a perfect GPA to maintain my full-ride scholarship," I continued, my voice rising in frustration. "I can't waste hours explaining basic concepts to someone who doesn't even bring a pen to class."

"I'll pay you double what you make."

I blinked. Double? That would cover my textbooks and my rent for the semester. I could quit the other job entirely.

"Why me?" I asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

"Because you aren't afraid of me." He tilted his head. "And because you already know what I look like naked. Saves time on icebreakers."

My face caught fire again. "You are unbelievable."

"Do we have a deal, Vance?"

"I need to think about it."

"Don't think too long." He reached out, his fingers brushing the fabric of my taupe hoodie. "I'll see you tonight."

"But, I have more important things to do."

The playful amusement vanished from his expression in an instant.

The gray-blue of his eyes turned stormy. The shift was sudden and jarring. The relaxed, teasing athlete disappeared, replaced by something entirely different. The temperature in the room seemed to drop.

He closed the remaining half-inch between us. His towering height cast a long, dark shadow over my face.

"What important things?" His voice dropped, losing all its warmth. The smooth tone turned to gravel. "More important than me?"

The sheer force of his presence pressed down on my chest. I couldn't pull in a full breath. The cedar scent wrapped around me, dizzying and intense, trapping me in place. His gaze searched my face, demanding an answer I refused to give.

"Answer me," he demanded, his jaw tight.

"I don't owe you an itinerary of my life."

"You see me naked in the shower."

"I apologized for that."

"An apology doesn't fix anything." He leaned closer, his chest brushing against my crossed arms. "You are going to tutor me."

"Watch me refuse."

"I don't take no for an answer."

"Then you are going to learn a very hard lesson today."

Silence stretched between us, thick and heavy. We stared each other down, locked in a silent battle of wills. He expected me to cave. He expected me to look away, to agree, to act like every other girl on this campus who worshipped the ground he walked on.

I watched his chest rise as he finally pulled in a deep, frustrated breath.

That was my chance.

The moment his torso expanded, giving me a tiny window of space, I dropped my right shoulder. I ducked hard under his thick arm, my hair brushing against his side, and bolted.

"Elena!" he barked, his voice echoing off the cinderblock walls.

My sneakers squeaked wildly against the linoleum floor as I scrambled toward the exit. I hit the heavy double doors with both hands, shoving them open and bursting into the crowded hallway.

I sprinted down the corridor, weaving through groups of students, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm in my ears.

I didn't look back. I didn't stop until I burst through the main exit and hit the cold autumn air of the courtyard.

I collapsed against a brick pillar, gasping for air. My hands shook as I pressed them against my hot cheeks. I had actually run away. I had left the star of the basketball team standing alone in an empty lecture hall.

But as my breathing slowed, a terrifying realization slammed into me, turning my blood to ice.

I had escaped the room.

But I still had to clean the room at midnight.