Wilt PoV
Wilt poked his head inside the gym and saw it was empty. Surely, no one would mind if he used it for a bit, would they?
"Hey!" a voice called out, making him jump. He turned and blinked. It was Natasha. "What are you doing here?"
"I was just checking the equipment for your coach," she said, raising the clipboard in her hands.
"Why are you checking the equipment for him?"
Natasha held back a strand of hair falling over her face as she leaned against the wall. "I'm sort of like a manager for the team now. My cousin says it's good to have an extra set of eyes on things, so he recommended me. Plus, I get to learn more about the game."
Wilt smiled. "That's pretty cool. It's great to have you around. Maybe you can give me some pointers sometime."
She laughed, tucking the strand of hair behind her ear. "Sure, I'll add 'coaching Wilt' to my list of duties."
Wilt stepped fully into the gym, his gaze lingering on the basketball hoops. "Mind if I shoot around while you're doing your checks?"
"Not at all," Natasha replied, gesturing to the court. "Just don't break anything, or I'll have to report you."
Wilt chuckled and grabbed a ball from the rack. "No promises, but I'll try my best."
She put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes at him. "Wilt."
He laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his head. And Loxus thought he acted like a mom when he had nothing on Natasha.
"Fine, fine. I promise not to break anything."
Natasha sighed and smiled. "Good."
Wilt picked up a basketball, feeling its familiar texture under his fingers. He dribbled a few times, getting a feel for the ball, then took a shot. The ball arced gracefully through the air and swished through the net, a perfect score.
He glanced over at Natasha, who was watching him with an appraising eye. "Not bad, huh?" he said, a hint of pride in his voice.
Natasha nodded, her clipboard momentarily forgotten. "Pretty good. Your form's improved since the high school nationals, despite not having had the chance to practice as much."
Wilt felt a flush of warmth spread across his cheeks at the compliment. "Y-you really think so?"
She nodded and stepped closer. "Yeah." She grabbed his left arm and bent it. "You used to bend your arms less."
Wilt adjusted his posture as Natasha guided his arm. "Yeah, I've been working on that," he said, trying to focus on the technical feedback rather than the proximity of her touch.
Natasha stepped and chuckled. "Well, keep it up. It's paying off," she said, offering him a smile that was both encouraging and a little mischievous.
Wilt took another shot, and this time when the ball swished through the net, he felt a burst in confidence.
"Thanks, Natasha. I appreciate the help," Wilt said, retrieving the ball for another shot.
"Anytime," she replied, turning back to her checklist. "Just don't overdo it now."
He laughed. "Well, I got you here to stop me if I do."
She giggled as she turned away. "Come on, I don't want to babysit you all the time."
He grumbled as he retrieved the ball and lined up for another shot, a playful glint in his eye. "I didn't say that. But I wouldn't mind the extra attention, honestly. It's not every day I get tips from the team manager."
Natasha shook her head, her smile betraying her amusement. "Don't get used to it. I have other things to do than watch you show off."
"Show off?" Wilt feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart. "I'm just practicing. It's not my fault I make it look good."
Natasha laughed, her attention momentarily drifting back to her clipboard. "Well, practice makes perfect. Don't let me distract you from becoming the next big thing."
Wilt took a deep breath and focused. He dribbled once, twice, then launched the ball into a high arc. It hit the backboard and rolled around the rim before falling through the net. "See? You're my good luck charm."
Natasha rolled her eyes, but she was clearly fighting back a smile. "Yeah, yeah. Just remember who to thank when you're accepting your MVP award."
Wilt chuckled and collected the ball again. "I'll thank my coach, my teammates, and... maybe the manager, if she doesn't get too bossy."
"Hey!" Natasha said, pouting. "I'm not bossy. I'm... authoritative."
"Right," Wilt said, grinning as he lined up another shot. "Authoritative is just a fancy way of saying bossy."
Natasha sighed, placing her clipboard under her arm. "I'm starting to regret letting you use the gym," she said, though the twinkle in her eye suggested she was still enjoying their banter.
Wilt laughed as he took another shot, the ball bouncing off the rim this time. "Oh, come on, you love having me here. Admit it, it's the highlight of your day."
She crossed her arms, trying to maintain a stern expression. "Sure, watching you miss shots is the highlight of my day," she teased back.
Wilt retrieved the ball and blushed. "That was a strategic miss. Keeps me humble," he quipped, dribbling the ball back to the three point line.
Natasha shook her head, her earlier 'authoritative' demeanor giving way to a more amused stance. "Just don't let it go to your head. Humble looks good on you."
Wilt took a breath and focused, sinking the next shot cleanly through the hoop. "How's that for humble?"
Natasha clapped, a genuine smile on her face. "Impressive. Maybe I should take notes."
He laughed. "You totally should."
She sighed. "You sure are a cocky guy, even as kids you would act like you were hot stuff."
"But I was and still am." He picked back up the ball and dribbled it a few times before taking another shot. The ball sailed through the air and swished through the hoop with ease. He turned to Natasha with a triumphant grin. "See? Some things never change."
Natasha chuckled, shaking her head in mock disapproval. "Yeah, your ego certainly hasn't deflated over the years."
Wilt shrugged, unbothered. "What can I say? Confidence is key in basketball."
Natasha walked over to him, her expression softening. "Confidence is good, but remember, the game's not played alone. It's a team effort."
He nodded, acknowledging her point. "I know. And I'm all about the team. But a little self-confidence never hurt anyone."
She smiled, tapping the clipboard against her palm. "Alright, superstar. Just make sure you're as good at passing the ball as you are at shooting it."
Wilt laughed and bounced the ball to her. "Only one way to find out. How about you join me for a few shots?"
Natasha caught the ball and looked at it for a moment before passing it back. "Maybe another time. I've got to finish up here."
"Rain check, then," Wilt said, catching the ball. "But I'm holding you to it."
Natasha nodded and turned back to her task, leaving Wilt to his practice. As he continued to shoot hoops, he felt a renewed sense of purpose. Natasha was right; basketball was a team sport, but he also wanted to be the face of the team. To achieve that, he had to work hard and smart.