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Coach isn’t yelling.

Which somehow makes it worse.

“You’re not a goddamn doctor,” he says, arms folded tight across his chest. “Stop refusing the team PT’s. It’s what they’re fucking there for!”

I stare straight ahead. One knee bouncing. My right hip’s throbbing from this morning’s hit drill.

“I don’t need—”

“Not the main reason why I’m pissed right now, Slater,” he cuts in, sharp.

Ah. So here we go.

“That shove in the third drill?” he says. “You launched Turner straight into the boards!”

“He was in my way.”

“He’s your goddamn teammate.”

I lean back in the chair. “He’s fine.”

Coach sighs like he’s already tired of this conversation. “Slater. You keep pulling this shit, you’re gonna force me to sit you. And if I sit you, the whole league’s gonna be watching.”

I give him a look. “Then don’t sit me.”

“Don’t give me a reason to.”

He dismisses me with a flick of his hand, like I’m a headache he doesn’t have time for.

I walk out, jaw tight.

And then I see her.

The new PTA.

Laughing at something Belinski just said.

Sage. Soft mouth, careful eyes. I remember exactly how her pulse jumped under my fingers. The way her grip on my wrist didn’t feel like panic. It felt like control.

And now?

Now she’s sitting there, smiling like I didn’t have my hand on her fucking neck twenty minutes ago.

Like I didn’t just threaten her.

She’s not afraid of me.

And that pisses me off more than anything.

I walk right up to them and stare.

Belinski glances at me, then back down at his leg. “I’m good.”

Smart man.

Sage doesn’t even freeze. Doesn’t stiffen. Just lifts her gaze—cool, neutral—and moves to adjust a wrap.

Like I’m invisible.

Like I didn’t shake her to her core.

“Sage,” I say.

She doesn’t even glance at me. “Wait your turn.”

I flick my head. Annoyed.

Belinski starts to slide off the table. “It’s fine. I could hear coach from here.”

She sighs and turns toward me, irritation plain on her face.

I walk a few feet toward the corner of the room. Not far. Just enough for privacy.

She follows, clipboard in hand, back straight. Acting like she’s in control.

“Come to my place. Do the eval there.”

She stares at me. “No.”

I raise a brow at her. “Scared of being alone with me?”

“You’re a walking HR violation,” she says.

I smirk. “Only if you report me.”

She steps back. “I’m not coming to your house.”

“I’ll pay you.”

She scoffs. “I don’t want your money.”

I lean in. “Then what’s it gonna take?”

Her eyes flare. Her voice drops into a whisper that slices clean, “You will never touch me like that again.”

I blink. Just once.

Then shrug. “Fine.”

I hold out my hand. “Give me your phone.”

“No.”

I don’t move my hand.

She hesitates.

Then she pulls it out, like it costs her something, and hands it over.

I enter my number, address and the time.

“Don’t be late.”

I hand it back and walk off without another word.

I head straight to my car.

Drive home without music. Without noise.

My body’s wired, pain sharpening everything. The hip won’t stop. Every joint feels tight. My jaw’s locked. My teeth ache from clenching.

In the shower, I lean both hands against the tile wall and let the heat hit me. The water isn’t hot enough. Never is.

I stroke myself with the kind of grip that should hurt. Try to drag some kind of release out of the mess in my head.

Her mouth.

Her fucking neck.

That whisper.

Those eyes.

It’s like my body’s got a kill switch and she’s the one who flipped it.

I let go, holding the feeling of something . Cold water now.

By the time I’m dressed, it’s almost 7:45. Sweatpants. Hoodie. No lights on but the hallway.

I drop onto the couch and pull up the camera feed. One front camera, one at the gate.

And there she is.

Fifteen minutes early.

Sitting in her car.

Driver’s seat tilted slightly back, but she’s upright. Not relaxed. She’s looking at the house, then at her lap. Probably thinking of leaving.

She’s got on jeans. Her hair’s tied up. She looks small from this angle, like the car’s swallowing her.

I zoom the feed a little.

She’s biting the inside of her cheek.

I don’t move. I just watch.

And wait.