After her parents were ruthlessly murdered in front of her, Izalea Matthews is deeply affected by her past that forever haunts her in her dreams. It becomes her aim to stop being afraid of the world and find out what happened to them. Whilst she sea...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"I'm pretty sure that's classed as cheating," Noah informs me as he sits down on one of the benches with his long legs spread apart.
Ever since I followed Noah out of the gym and onto the basketball court, we've made a bet that the total amount of shots we throw that goes through the net, we get to ask a question about one another. It's very unlike me to back down from a challenge, so I have no other choice but to agree.
So far, Noah's been able to shoot every one successfully. I however, have only managed...oh yeah none. That's why I'm trying to carry the springboard from the gym and onto the court so I can attempt a slam dunk.
I can forget about all the things that could go wrong from this idea later.
"It's not cheating Grayson. It's called having brains. Something that you wouldn't know what it's like to have," I scoff, sweating from dragging it from the entrance of the door, only to the bench where the team usually sits.
"And you look like you need muscles to pull that thing along. Oh wait, that's something you don't have either is it?" Noah says, glancing at me struggling. I flash him a fake smile along with my middle finger, before huffing and leaning back down to pick up the board.
As I'm bent down, Noah walks up behind me, but leaves enough distance for me to stand back up. He curls his index finger to gesture me to go with him as he cups the basketball in his other hand.
I follow before standing in front of him, craning my neck to look up at his face. He gently places his hand on my back bringing me closer into his body. Sucking in a sharp breath, Noah smirks and slowly twirls me around. His hand glides across my lower back as he brushes my hip, resting them on the curve of my waist. He grips me into place, guiding me so that my feet are on the white line of the semicircle. He passes me the basketball to hold in my hands, and with his now free hand, he takes my hair to one side. From behind, Noah bends his head, breathing lightly on the exposed part of my neck. My heart beats out of my chest, trying to stay in control of my senses and body.
"You're tense. Relax a little," Noah advises, stroking his thumb on my waist, which makes it harder for me to forget that he's touching me. My body succumbs to his touch, allowing him to take over. He smiles against my neck, moving his hands from my waist, along my arms and to my hands. His soft hands graze my knuckles, alighting them with a thousand fires, and cover the back of them so that he can help me into position to hold the ball.
Delicately, he raises my hands so that I bend my elbows, his front still attached to my back like a magnet, where our heartbeats merge as one single rhythm.
"Bend your knees and jump," Noah whispers so lowly that even the wind had trouble in finding out what he said. Electrified by him, I slightly bend my knees, and when I feel my feet lift off the ground, the basketball leaves the tip of my fingers in the parabolic path towards the net.
Our eyes trace the ball in the direction of I and Noah's aim, as the ball bounces off from one side of the net to the other. The anticipation of our wait is over when the ball bounces on its third, deciding to roll on the wrong side and not fall in the net like we hoped. Frowning, I twist around to Noah.
