Chapter 20: Rec League

A few days later, 27-year-old Rachel DeSantos arrived at the Buckhead Baptist Church gym.

She stepped into the gym, the faint scent of polished wood and sweat filling the air. She relished the buzz of sneakers squeaking against the hardwood mixed with the rhythmic bounce of the basketball.

She had just come from work, still dressed in a chic yet professional outfit, consisting of a fitted black blouse, slim beige slacks, and sleek, nude-colored stilettos. Her hair was still perfectly styled from her last on-camera segment.

Sliding into the bleachers, she crossed her legs and leaned forward slightly, watching as Trevor’s rec basketball team warmed up.

Trevor Bauer, her boyfriend, was already on the court, going through a casual layup drill. He was a solid player, a lethal shooter with decent size. He had always played in these recreational leagues to stay in shape and because he genuinely enjoyed basketball.

Rachel wasn’t exactly expecting NBA-level competition, but she still liked supporting Trevor.

At least that was what she usually came to do, however, from the moment the game tipped off, her eyes landed on someone else.

He was on the opposing team. Tall. A guy built like a natural athlete, but smooth with his movements.

Rachel’s brows lifted slightly as she watched him get the ball on the wing, effortlessly shimmy past his defender with a clean spin move before pulling up for a jumper.

Swish

Damn. That was nice.

Rachel leaned in, her interest piqued. The game continued, and it quickly became clear, this guy wasn’t just good. He was different.

Fluid footwork. A polished offensive game. A natural rhythm to his movements. Confidence, but not cockiness. Rachel found herself completely locked in on him, watching his every move.

Trevor was playing admirably, but his team was getting worked, mostly because they had no answer for the guy Rachel couldn’t stop watching.

He was everywhere. Pull-up jumpers from midrange, smooth finishes at the rim, and crossovers that left defenders stumbling. He even played solid defense, making life very difficult for whoever he guarded. Rachel bit the inside of her cheek, holding back a smile.

Trevor had never mentioned this guy before, and judging by the way his team looked frustrated, she doubted they had played against him before.

She glanced down at her watch. Trevor’s team was down double digits. She should probably be more focused on supporting her boyfriend, but she wasn’t. Her eyes kept drifting back to the man dominating the game.

Who was he? More importantly, though ... why did she suddenly want to find out?

After the game, Rachel and Trevor went to dinner together at LongHorn Steakhouse. They walked in, the scent of sizzling steaks and freshly baked bread filling the air.

It was late, and the restaurant wasn’t too crowded, which was fine by Rachel. She wasn’t in the mood for too much noise, not with her mind still turning.

She and Trevor were seated in a cozy booth near the back. Trevor was still bitter about the game. He immediately launched into a rant before their menus were even opened.

“Refs were terrible,” Trevor muttered as he picked up the menu. “Some of the worst calls I’ve seen in this league. They let them get away with so much contact.”

Rachel hummed, pretending to listen. She knew how this went. Every time he lost, he usually had a lot to say about the refs.

Trevor shook his head, flipping to the steak section. “And that number 12? He thinks he’s hot shit but let me guard him for a full game and I’ll shut that shit down.”

Rachel’s ears perked up slightly. Number 12. That was him.

She took a sip of her water, keeping her face neutral. “What team was that y’all were playing?”

Trevor barely looked up. “The Ballers. Pretty dumb name if you ask me.”

Rachel chuckled behind her glass. “Yeah, okay, Mr. ‘Elite Hoopers’ isn’t much better.”

She set her cup down, casually adding, “Have you played them before?”

“Nah, they’re new to the league this year,” Trevor responded.

Rachel nodded, pretending to be interested in the menu while her thoughts kept circling.

Asking Trevor anything else about the mystery player would be too obvious, especially with how bitter he was. So, instead, she would just find out herself.

That night, Rachel lay in her bed, phone screen glowing in the darkness, her fingers idly scrolling through the Buckhead Recreational Sports website.

She had told herself she was just checking the league schedule, but the moment she saw it: “The Ballers vs Dunwoody Wrecking Crew — Thursday, 8 PM”, her stomach did a small flip.

Trevor’s team had no game that night, which meant she had no real reason to be there except for the fact that she wanted to be.

Rachel sighed, setting her phone down and rubbing her hands over her face.

“What am I doing?” she said out loud.

She had a boyfriend. A long-term one. Sure, Trevor wasn’t perfect. He could be a bit self-absorbed, a little whiny when things didn’t go his way, and could be predictable as hell, but he was good to her.