Date: March 1, 2025

  After the madness of last week, I swore this weekend would be all about recharging. No work talk, no screens—just a long walk, some sunshine, and maybe Mochi demanding half my breakfast as usual.

  But, of course, fate had other plans.

  Also, I don’t know what’s going on with the climate, but it was freakishly warm for early March—the kind of day that makes you double-check your calendar and wonder if you somehow skipped a season. Normally, I’d still be wearing a jacket, but apparently, spring decided to show off today.

  Saturday Morning: Running Errands

  I started the day with a solid plan: grab groceries, swing by the farmers’ market, and maybe reward myself with a croissant for being a functioning adult.

  By mid-morning, I was walking back home with a tote full of overpriced strawberries and a baguette sticking out like I was auditioning for a French rom-com. It was the perfect day—blue skies, a mild breeze, the kind that tricks you into thinking summer is just around the corner.

  So, I took the long way home, cutting through the park.

  That’s when I saw the basketball courts.

  And Leo.

  Leo: Hoodie Gremlin, Basketball Star?

  To say I was surprised would be an understatement. Leo was the last person I expected to see here, let alone running around shirtless, looking like he’d stepped out of a sportswear ad. His usual hoodie-and-sneakers vibe had been swapped for athletic shorts, a pair of worn basketball shoes, and—well—nothing else.

  It was… disorienting.

  The Leo I knew was all sarcasm and slouching behind a desk, feet propped up on a chair, spinning a pen between his fingers while making some dry remark about my SQL queries. This Leo—sweaty, confident, and impossibly athletic—was throwing me for a loop I wasn’t prepared for.

  I hesitated, debating whether to wave or quietly disappear before he noticed me. Unfortunately, Leo has the observational skills of a hawk, and his eyes locked onto mine within seconds.

  “Ada?” he called, jogging over with that signature grin plastered on his face.

  I froze, internally cursing my luck. “Hey, Leo. Didn’t know you played basketball.”

  He wiped sweat off his brow with the back of his arm, which somehow made him look even more annoyingly athletic.

  Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

  The faint scent of clean sweat and something citrusy hit me as he got closer, and I realized—with growing panic—that I was staring.

  “What can I say? Gotta stay in shape,” he said with a wry smile, completely unfazed.

  “Right,” I said, trying very hard to focus on his face and not the rest of him. “Looks intense.”

  “You should join sometime,” he said, laughing. “Though I’m guessing you’re more of a… badminton person?”

  “Excuse me, but I’ll have you know I was a dodgeball champ in middle school,” I shot back, desperately clinging to humor to ground myself.

  Leo grinned. “Noted. I’ll be sure to recruit you for the next team-building dodgeball match.”

  The Unexpected Invitation

  Before I could make my escape, one of the guys on the court called out to Leo.

  “Hey, we’re one short for the next game!”

  Leo glanced back at them, then turned to me with a mischievous glint in his eye. “Wanna give it a shot?”

  “Me? No way,” I said, holding my tote bag like it was a shield. “I’ve got groceries.”

  “Come on, I’ll make sure you don’t get run over,” he said, clearly enjoying my discomfort.

  I hesitated. It wasn’t like I had anything better to do, but the idea of embarrassing myself on a court full of strangers—especially with Leo watching—was not appealing.

  Still, there was something about the way he was looking at me, the effortless confidence he always exuded, that made it hard to say no. In hindsight, I think it’s called peer pressure.

  “Fine,” I said, setting my bag on a nearby bench. “But if I sprain an ankle, I’m blaming you.”

  He grinned. “I promise I’ll wheel you around the office like a Queen if that happens.”

  A Game to Remember

  As expected, I was terrible. My passes were clumsy, my aim was worse, and I nearly got flattened by one of Leo’s teammates at least twice.

  The second time it happened, the guy—tall, broad-shouldered, and clearly unaware of his own strength—offered me a hand to help me up.

  “Sorry about that,” he said, his grin apologetic but charming. “I’m Tyler, by the way.”

  “Uh, no worries,” I said, brushing myself off.

  Tyler glanced at me, then at Leo, before adding, “Haven’t seen you around. Maybe I could show you around sometime?”

  I blinked, caught slightly off guard. Tyler was objectively good-looking, and there was a smoothness to his confidence that made the comment feel casual but intentional. And, okay—maybe a little flattering.

  Suddenly, Leo, who had been watching from a few feet away, stepped forward, casually draping an arm over my shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world. His skin was warm and dewy against mine, and for a moment, I froze.

  “Tyler,” Leo said, his tone light but laced with something unspoken, “don’t you have a free throw to miss?”

  Tyler raised his hands in mock surrender, laughing. “Alright, alright.”

  Leo turned to me, his usual grin softening into something almost careful. “You okay, Spoon Girl? Or do we need to teach Tyler some manners?”

  “I’m fine,” I said, though my brain was still stuck on the fact that he was so close. The faint citrusy scent, the easy warmth of his arm—everything about the moment felt oddly amplified.

  Leo’s grin widened, and he let his arm drop as he handed me the ball. “Good. Now let’s see if you can score on the right hoop this time.”

  And just like that, the moment passed, leaving me incredibly confused.

  Evening Reflections

  I didn’t plan for this weekend to include playing basketball—or seeing Leo outside of work, for that matter—but it turned out to be a nice break from the usual routine.

  It’s funny. At work, Leo’s all quick wit and sarcasm, but seeing him out here—laughing with his friends, completely in his element—was… different.

  And then there was that moment with Tyler.

  I couldn’t quite figure out why Leo stepped in the way he did, but knowing him, it was probably just his overprotective big-brother act.

  Not that I’m reading into it or anything.

  As I walked home, tote bag in one hand, basketball soreness creeping into my muscles, I realized something.

  My attempt at a quiet, no-interaction weekend had completely failed.

  Again.

  Maybe I should stop pretending that’s ever going to happen.

  Until next time,Ada W.