Half of My Heart ✔️

06 | in your arms

Mya is waiting for me outside of the stadium. "Nice jersey," she comments as we walk inside, peeking at the back of the shirt. "Is this Maddox dude your boyfriend?"

I resist the urge to vomit. "Fuck no. Ew. Gross. He's my older brother," I say quickly, wiping that thought clean from my brain.

Mya laughs. "Makes sense. I was wondering how you got tickets to this game. Home openers are fucking impossible to get tickets to."

I shrug as we take our seats. "One of the only perks of having Archer as an older brother."

Both teams are doing their warmups when we enter the stadium. Jack's the first person I focus on as we take our seats. He's already a bit sweaty, accentuating the contractions of his eye-catching muscles. I watch as he talks and laughs with his teammates, then runs his hand through his dirty-blond hair. Even during warmups, his movements are so precise.

Jack dribbles up to the basket and sinks a layup, then passes it to Archer. Archer makes a three-pointer easily, then passes the ball.

Archer spots me in the crowd almost and waves at me casually. He sinks a free-throw then shoots me a cocky look. I give him a thumbs-down. Mya nudges me. "That's your brother? Holy shit, he's sexy."

"Mya, that is the second time you've made me want to vomit tonight. I'm not sure how much more I can take," I say. "My brother and the word 'sexy' should never be uttered in the same breath."

Mya raises her eyebrow. "Fine, fine. Your brother is quite possible the ugliest living thing I've ever seen in my eighteen years of existence. Better?"

I smile at her. "Much."

As the teams continue their warmups, Mya and I talk. When I look back down at the court, I accidentally make eye contact with Jack. I stiffen, wondering if he's still hell-bent on ignoring me, but he flashes me a small smile. Then he shoots a three-pointer and makes it in, all while looking at me. He seems to have gotten over his mood swing earlier, and his smile is as warm as ever. I look away.

Mya watches this whole interaction, flicking her gaze between the two of us. "Am I allowed to comment on him or will you bite my head off?"

I blush. "He's just a friend. My brother's best friend, so he's technically not really my friend," I stammer out. "It's . . . nothing."

She looks back down at the court, then back at me. I make a point not to look back down. "Sure. So you don't care about the cheerleader that's wiping the sweat off his forehead right now?" She asks.

My head snaps back toward the court, searching for Jack and this cheerleader. My eyes find Jack, but he's nowhere near the sidelines or a cheerleader. I look back at Mya, who's holding back a triumphant grin. "Just a friend, huh?" She teases.

I shake my head, too flustered to answer. We watch as the teams leave for the locker room to change into their uniforms. Jack's one of the first to come out. We lock eyes for a split second before he tears his gaze away.

I don't realize I was holding my breath until his back is turned toward me and I can release the air from my lungs. But as they call the starting lineup, I find myself still watching as he places his hands on the back of his head and flexes his muscles as he waits. Dear God . . .

Mya nudges me, breaking me from my euphoric trance. "Did you hear that? Your brother and your boyfriend are both starting. Point guard and power forward. That's insane."

"Yeah, they're both pretty good," I reply, realizing I was so deep in my trance that I didn't hear this information. "And he's not my boyfriend. I don't like him."