Chapter 2: Game Day, Hearts in Play

The gym was packed, both sides of the basketball court buzzing with excitement that weekend.

I glanced down at my super-short skirt and the pom-poms in my hands, sighing quietly. In my head, I grumbled about Carter dragging me into this.

Carter spotted me and looked genuinely surprised. He arched an eyebrow, lips quirking up in a smirk. “I thought I just invited you to watch my game. What’s all this?”

I shot back, “Just bored.”

My roommate, Mariah Evans—cheer squad captain and my personal hype girl—had insisted I join her for a performance since she knew I’d be at the game anyway.

At first, I said no, but Mariah’s relentless. Who can resist a pretty girl begging? Not me.

Right then, Mariah swooped over, threw an arm around my shoulders, and planted a kiss on my cheek. “Autumn, you look amazing! You should’ve joined ages ago. Once you’re on the floor, you’ll be the star. Not just Lucas Bradley—any guy you want will be yours.”

I zoned in on the important part: “Lucas Bradley is coming too?”

“Of course,” Mariah grinned, then paused. “Aren’t you here for him?”

“Sort of… yeah.”

Carter, feeling left out, coughed—loudly.

Mariah finally noticed and pointed at him. “He and Captain Carter are rivals today.”

Not that I cared. I just wanted to know if Lucas Bradley had a girlfriend or someone he liked. Carter seemed to know him, so I hoped he wasn’t bluffing.

Carter’s teammates called him over to warm up. He waved at us, jogging off.

Mariah led the cheer squad to get ready.

I was just a guest performer, so she told me to join in at halftime.

That was fine by me. Carter had already saved me a front-row seat, so I took it—only to realize I was practically on the court.

Carter’s whole vibe changed on the court—cool, cocky, in charge. “Play your best out there. Don’t let me down. We only win—no losing, got it?”

Everyone echoed, “Got it!”

His buddy, Mike Johnson, wasn’t fazed. He nudged Carter, joking, “You never cared about winning or losing before. What, your crush is here or something?”

He made a show of scanning the stands, then locked eyes with me.

“Whoa!” He was genuinely impressed, then leaned in to Carter and whispered, “When did the cheer squad get someone this pretty? Isn’t she the one who got voted prettiest in her department? She’s even better looking in person—totally my type.”

He grinned at the others. “Sorry, guys, but I’m making the first move!”

Everyone cracked up, though a few sneaked glances my way.

Before Mike could get any ideas, someone kicked him from behind. Carter snapped, “Back off! If we lose, you’re banned from the dorm for a month!”

He barked at the rest, sounding like a drill sergeant, “What are you all staring at? The game’s about to start!”

Honestly, Carter looked fierce when he cursed, but it was… weirdly attractive. I caught myself watching him more than I meant to.

By the time I remembered Lucas Bradley, the game was already underway.

Carter played fast and aggressive; Lucas Bradley was all smooth teamwork.

The score stayed tight—neck and neck.

At halftime, the cheerleaders took the floor. I jumped in, nerves jangling, but the crowd went wild.

Somewhere in the routine, I noticed Lucas Bradley front and center, and I could’ve sworn he kept glancing my way.

Maybe I was imagining things, but it made me extra jittery.

Still, I managed to finish the routine.

But as I was leaving the court—maybe the floor was slick, maybe I was just clumsy—I slipped and hit the ground hard.

My head bounced off the floor. Pain shot through me.

People rushed over.

I heard Mariah’s worried voice, “Autumn, you okay?”

I forced my eyes open, trying to focus. To my surprise, Lucas Bradley was there, too.

But my head throbbed, and my butt hurt. Why did my crush have to see me like this?

“Let me take you to the nurse’s office,” Lucas Bradley offered, reaching out to help me up.

“No need.”

Before I could even move, a deep voice cut in.

A jacket landed on my lap. With my super-short skirt, I’d been afraid to move and risk flashing the crowd.

I looked up, and the next thing I knew, someone scooped me up—full princess carry, like something out of a K-drama. I swear, everyone saw my underwear. My face went nuclear. I buried my head in his chest, mortified.

Mariah tried to follow, but Carter waved her off.

I hissed, “Carter, what are you doing?”

He walked on, completely unfazed. “Taking you to the nurse’s office.”

“It’s not that serious. I can walk. Put me down.”

“Stop talking. I feel like carrying you.”

Mike came running. “Carter, what about the second half? Want me to take her? You gotta get back out there!”

Carter didn’t even glance back. “Buzz off!”

Mike kept at it. “Come on, man, we can’t lose!”

Carter shot back, “Losing one game won’t kill you. Stop bothering me!”

“…But can I still go back to the dorm?”

“If you keep whining, I’ll throw you out. No more basketball for you.”

“Fine, fine, I’m gone.”

On the way to the nurse’s office, I grumbled, “You’re so mean. No wonder they call you the school bad boy. Guess the rumors are true.”

Carter said nothing.

He flicked my forehead—twice. I looked up, meeting his annoyed, dark eyes. “You wanna say that a little louder?”

Geez, this guy… Okay, I’ll keep quiet.

“Does your head still hurt?”

“Huh?”

How did he know?

Carter smiled, rubbing my head gently. “You hit it so hard, I was worried you’d get a concussion.”

I mumbled, “It’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad? Anywhere else hurt?”

“N-no.”

I couldn’t exactly list everywhere that hurt—he couldn’t possibly rub every spot, right? Though, honestly, his hands were pretty nice.

“Okay.”

Carter glanced at me, then picked up the pace.

At the nurse’s office, things turned out worse than I thought.

Turns out, I really did have a mild concussion.

No wonder my head kept pounding.

To make matters worse, I’d sprained my ankle.

Carter ran around, fetching medicine and ice packs.

He even took me for X-rays, just to be sure. When the nurse finally said I just needed rest, he let out a breath and sat down beside me.

“Anything else hurt?”

I shook my head.

Carter gave me a sideways glance and muttered, “You’re pretty fragile—like a delicate flower.” Was he for real?

I couldn’t tell if he was teasing or not. He was always so unpredictable, so I just pressed my lips together and stayed quiet.

Maybe realizing he sounded off, Carter quickly added, “I didn’t mean anything bad. I actually like delicate flowers.”

Whatever. What is this, a romance novel?

I cut him off, “So, can you give me the answer now?”

“What?”

“Does Lucas Bradley have a girlfriend, or someone he likes?”

Carter paused, looking at me. “Is it that important?”

I met his eyes. “To me, yeah.”

Carter got up, shrugged. “No.”

My heart leapt, but his next words killed my hope.

“But I think he likes someone.”

“If he likes her so much, why aren’t they together?”

Carter rolled his eyes, clearly done with the topic. “How should I know?”

“I’ve told you everything you wanted. Let’s go.”

“Okay.”

I tried to get up, but maybe from sitting too long or my ankle still hurting, I nearly fell.

Luckily, Carter’s strong arms caught me in time.

“Still not feeling well?”

He didn’t wait for me to answer, just crouched down. “Get on.”

“Huh?”

“I’ll carry you back.”

“Isn’t that a bit much?”

Now Carter was out of patience. “Get on.”

I hesitated, blinked, tried to walk on my own, but pain shot through my ankle. I bit my lip, trying to tough it out, but Carter saw right through me.

He stood up, tapped my forehead, half annoyed, half amused. “I’ve never carried anyone before, you know. Take it or leave it.” He sounded almost shy, which was weird for him.

I caved. “Fine, fine, fine!”

He crouched again, grumbling, “You’ve officially worn out all my patience.”

On the way back, I muttered, “Carter, thanks for today.”

Carter smirked at me. “Don’t just say it—how are you gonna thank me?”

How?

I guess I should do something he likes, right?

So, as a thank you, I arranged for seven male models to show up. Carter looked like he’d seen a ghost; the corner of his mouth twitched. He was genuinely thrown off.

Well, who else is as considerate as me?

I beamed at him, eyes sparkling. “Well?”

Carter crossed his arms, looked the models up and down, then gave me a look I couldn’t read. “Wow, thanks a lot.”

I grinned, proud of myself. Clearly, he liked it, so I played it cool. “No need to thank me.”

Worried he’d be shy with me there, I called the models over and started to head out so he could enjoy himself.

But Carter suddenly stood up and grabbed my wrist. “Where are you going?”

I blinked at him. “I’ll wait outside…”

A model tried to pour him a drink, but Carter shoved him away and finally exploded: “All of you, get out!”

I jumped. His grip on my wrist tingled, and my heart pounded.

But Carter’s face went storm-cloud dark.

“Carter, you… don’t like it?”

That couldn’t be right.

Carter pulled me closer. Since he was sitting and I was standing, our noses nearly bumped. I barely managed to stop in time.

Now we were really close—close enough that I could see my own reflection in his eyes. My cheeks went hot. “W-what are you doing?”

Carter gave a cold half-smile. “Seriously, what goes on in that head of yours?”

“Why’d you get me male models? Messing with me?”

I whined, “How is that messing with you? I heard a rumor you liked guys.”

Carter snorted. “And you believed that?”

“I thought…”

Before I could finish, Carter pinched my cheek, barely holding back. “Autumn, don’t pout at me.”

He’s so mean! Why does he even care about that?

“Tsk. I haven’t even started pouting, and you’re already upset.”

He shouldn’t have said that. The second he did, my eyes stung, and I started tearing up. “Do you know how expensive those models were? I spent half a month’s allowance! If you didn’t like it, fine, but why yell at me?”

“Wait—” Carter fumbled for tissues, panicking. “I wasn’t yelling, just raised my voice a little. Don’t cry, I didn’t mean to…”

I took the tissue, still sniffling. “And you pinched my face.”

“Couldn’t help it. My bad.”

He smacked his own hand, then did it a few more times for good measure. “I’m the worst.”

“Enough.” I wiped my tears. “I’m not mad anymore.”

“Then don’t cry.”

“I’m done crying.”

Carter praised me, “Good girl.”

“Yeah, I’m good. I’m heading back.”

“So early?”

“Yeah, Lucas Bradley’s taking me to the museum tomorrow. I want to sleep early.”

Just thinking about it made me happy.

He blinked. “Wait, what?”

“Wait, when did you two get so close?”

“When I sprained my ankle.”

He muttered, “…Seriously.”

Carter thought: So I bring you breakfast every day, walk you to class, look after you, and you end up getting close to another guy? I must be a fool.