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The parking lot is full when we get there––obvs, everyone else had the same idea. There’s nothing I love more than the boisterous shouts and giggles of kids playing, and there’s plenty of that going on. Glancing sideways, I can tell Sam is quietly retreating into his shell.

We walk up to one of the less crowded basketball courts and I start stretching while Sam begins to dribble. Over on the next court, a skinny blonde kid, who appears to be around Sam’s age, attempts to shoot. I say attempts because the cutie is excruciatingly uncoordinated. I glance at Sam, who’s doing great with the dribbling exercises we worked on last week, and see that he’s noticed the boy as well.

“Derrick, bend your knees a little,” a gravelly masculine voice gently instructs from the edge of the court. My gaze swings in that direction and finds its owner. He’s attractive. Like really attractive. Tall, fit, square jaw––your typical smoking hot, all-American blonde. He glances my way and our eyes lock. After a beat, his hard expression lifts and he smiles crookedly at me. I turn beet red because there’s no mistaking the interest in his baby blue eyes. I return a tight smile and walk over to Sam, who is in the process of sinking a shot.

I catch the ball on the rebound, and for the next twenty minutes, we have a great time playing. It’s impossible not to notice that ‘Derrick’ is seriously struggling while the man I assume is his dad does his best to coach him.

“Sam, what do you say we ask Derrick to play with us?” Sam glances at poor Derrick and nods his head. “Derrick, would you like to play with us?” Derrick glances at his dad, who smiles and nods. Showcasing a wide grin, Mr. All American walks up to me and holds out a hand.

“Jason Miller, and this is my son Derrick.”

“Camilla DeSantis,” I say, extending a hand that gets swallowed up by his. He holds it a second longer than I deem necessary. The skin on my neck starts to prickle. I can’t hold his direct gaze. To me, this is indisputable evidence that I will never be comfortable dating.

“This is Sam, my student.” In a sweet gesture, Jason shakes Sam’s hand as well. A short while later Sam starts dribbling the ball and passing it to Derrick. While the boys play, Jason Miller leans in.

“Thank you for that. I keep trying to get him to play with the other kids. He’s just so shy and…well, I don’t want to push him too hard.” Jason looks genuinely concerned for his son. I feel for him, I really do. I can imagine how hard it is for any parent to watch their child struggle.

“I’m homeschooling Sam while his mother is away and I’ve been dealing with the same issue. You’re doing fine…you’re patient with him. That’s the most important part,” I reply, doing my best to reassure him.

“I don’t know what else to do. Both my ex and I are athletic.” I almost laugh out loud at the strategic info drop.

Men, smh.

We turn to watch the boys take a couple of shots and miss. They seem to be talking, which is kind of amazing in and of itself. Jason approaches them, and for the next twenty minutes the boys play while Jason helps them work on technique. As the afternoon gives way to early evening, we say our goodbyes.

“Can I get your number?” At my blank stare, Jason backpedals. “I mean so we can meet for the boys. They seem to be getting on well.”

“Oh yeah, we’d love that.”

Shortly afterward, Sam and I head to the supermarket. We’re in line to pay when I spot it––a picture of Cal and me walking out of the furniture store in the city. The caption over it reads, ‘Off the Market’.

As much as I feared this happening, I’m not as stressed about it as I thought I would be. In that moment, I realize that I do trust Cal. He won’t let anything bad happen to me. I know he won’t. And anyway, it was bound to happen. I mean, he’s a celebrity for goodness sake. Funny how easily I tend to forget that. To me, he’s just Calvin, pigheaded, bossy, though mostly great. Because he is that––great, that is. However, to everyone else he’s a public figure. And now that the news has gone viral, we’ll know soon enough what the consequences will be.

As soon as we get home, I go in search of the great guy in question. The shouting coming from his office gets my undivided attention. Calvin does not shout, ever. Outside his door, I wait and listen.

“You listen to me, Phil. Have I ever tested positive for PEDs? Have you had to deal with me sending pictures of my dick to questionable women? No. That’s fucking correct, the answer is no. So whom I date, or don’t date is no concern to the organization. Am I making myself clear? She’s an incredible person…fuck the PR department. I’m lucky to have her…. I don’t give a single shit about the optics. If I hear one disparaging word being said about her at team events then we’re going to have a problem…You will be seeing a lot of her. I’m calm, I’m calm…speak to Ethan and Barry about that. Oh and Phil, I can name at least five teams that are going to be lookin’ for a starting quarterback next year. Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m sayin’…uh huh yeah, I’m cool…just as long as we don’t have to have this discussion again…yeah, see you in a week.”

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