the concept of steve helping lucas practice basketball like even a year out before tryouts (this would take place before the battle of starcourt), jumping on the subject enthusiastically literally as soon as lucas expressed interest in the sport.
that leaves you and max, the girlfriends who are awful at cheerleading. can’t help but look at each other and attempt to stifle your giggles when they go “this ones for you!” and miss, when steve starts believing he’s an actual NBA coach and talking like one, telling lucas to ‘take a lap’. you couldn’t contain the snort that left your lips, even over the rim of your lemonade glass.
“oh, i’m sorry,” steve turned to you, breathless, sweaty, gleaming, “you have something to say from the bench, hon?”
you give a shrug in response, smirking. “just admiring the view.”
max and lucas gag in unison.
“yeah, yeah, nice save.” steve mutters, but the flush on his cheeks and dopey smile pulling at his lips betray him.
the chimes of the ice cream truck’s jingle sound across the street for the second time this afternoon. steve practically activates, running into his house to grab his wallet. “no popsicles this time. no, sinclair has earned himself a cone.” he declared, flagging down the truck.
“and us?” you and max prompted at the same time.
he fixed you two with a look. “you already know you get whatever you want. and then, by extension, max.” he gestured. “anything the ladies want…” he fanned out a couple bills. “the ladies get.” he looked over his shoulder. “take notes sinclair.”
lucas gives an eager thumbs up as he douses himself in gatorade.
part 1(? hopefully) of a stevereader & lumax adventures series :)
