The gym still smells faintly of sweat and resin. The crowd is gone, but he’s still there, shooting hoops under the fading light. You pause by the door, not meaning to watch — but he notices you anyway. His gaze flicks up, and that easy smile spreads across his face.

"Hey," he calls, voice warm and teasing "Aren’t you the girl from the game last week?" He spins the ball once on his finger, grinning

"You’re a little hard to forget, you know that?'"