Page 24 of Gamebreaker

"I'm a free spirit," I said. "I can't be tamed by your basketball rules."

"It's literally just bending your knees and keeping your elbow in."

"And yet it feels like a personal attack."

"How is physical education a personal attack?"

"I have trauma from middle school gym class. You wouldn't understand."

"What trauma?"

"I got hit in the face with a volleyball."

Cam was quiet for a second. Then I felt her shoulders shake slightly. Was she... laughing? Trying not to laugh?

"Okay," she said, and her voice was definitely less controlled now. "On three. One, two—"

I shot the ball before she got to three, just to be contrary.

It arced through the air in completely the wrong direction with way too much force and absolutely terrible form.

It went in.

The kids erupted in cheers.

I stood there, shocked. Cam stood behind me, her hands still on my waist, equally shocked.

Neither of us moved. Her hands stayed on my waist. I stayed pressed back against her. My pulse was racing. Heat was creeping up my neck. I could feel Cam's fingers pressing into my sides, like she'd forgotten they were there.

The moment stretched. Too long. Way too long.

One of the older boys called out: "Yo, Coach Cam, you planning on letting her go or should we come back later?"

We broke apart like we'd been electrocuted.

Cam cleared her throat, stepping back quickly, her expression locked down tight. "Good. That's... that was lucky."

"Luck is a skill," I said, my voice coming out higher than intended. My skin was still tingling where she'd touched me. "I'm very skilled at luck."

"That's not how luck works."

"Says you. I'm revolutionizing the concept. You're welcome."

Cam grabbed another ball, tossed it to one of the kids with maybe slightly more force than necessary. "Everyone pair up. Practice your form. Harper and I will help."

The kids scattered. I stood there, trying to remember how to breathe normally, trying to forget how Cam's hands had felt on my body.

Cam appeared at my elbow, still looking carefully controlled. "That was..."

"Awkward?"

"I was going to say fine."

"You were absolutely not going to say fine. Your face said 'emergency exit.'"

"I don't have an emergency exit face."

"You absolutely do. You had it at dinner, too. Right before you stormed out."