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CHAPTER 27

CREEPY, BEADY-EYED DEMONS

DAVID

There was nothing in the world that compared to the peace that David felt when he was at the house on Lake Murray.

He and the guys had made their first trip to the lake only a few weeks after Johnny’s death, at a time when they’d all been shells of themselves — devastated and unsure how to move forward.

It was Chuck who’d brought up the idea of them all going somewhere quiet together. David, Ford, Darius, and Tommy, the seniors on the basketball team, had automatically agreed, and it was a given that Chuck and Keaton, who spent most of their time with them anyway, would come along as well.

They’d spent hours and hours on the deck that first year. Most of the time they were silent, lost in their own heads, but occasionally one of them would have a moment of courage and speak up, trying to put their feelings into words.

None of them were any good at cooking yet, so they’d grilled hot dogs and made boxed mac and cheese, but it had been exactly what David had needed. And by the end of it there’d been a shift, like the tentative vulnerability they’d found together established a certain level of trust and safety that hadn’t existed before.

Even now, years later, David sat out on the dock in board shorts and a t-shirt with a mug of coffee in one hand as his feet splashed in the cool water, and felt blissfully content. The sun had just crested over the tops of the tall trees that circled the lake, turning the water from deep black to vibrant blue. Darius and Rebecca, both still in pajamas, sat next to him, and all of them watched as Sage, Chuck, and Keaton did some sort of body-weight workout on the mowed grass at the edge of the lake.

“Twenty more burpees and that’s it,” Chuck panted, pushing his curls back from his forehead.

“You’re not very nice,” Sage grumbled, but obediently jumped in the air before dropping to the ground into a pushup.

David took advantage of the moment to watch her. In only a sports bra and some tiny running shorts, she looked every inch an athlete. Her skin glowed in the morning light, with the shine of sweat that only made the long, lean lines of her body all the more pronounced.

She was a goddamn vision.

They’d woken up that morning sprawled out on opposite sides of the bed, but had quickly closed the distance between them. David had ignored her protest about morning breath and proceeded to kiss her thoroughly while his hand went to work between her legs, bringing her to a silent, shaking orgasm that left him right on the edge of his own release. And when Sage had crawled under the covers and wrapped those pink lips around him, well, he’d lasted about half a second before coming down her throat.

For the first time, they stood together at the sink, watching each other in the wide mirror as they brushed their teeth and got ready for the day. There had been a brief moment of discomfort when he’d looked at his body in the mirror, but then he’d noticed the way Sage’s cheeks flushed when he scratched at the hair on his belly.

If she liked the way he looked, who was he to argue with her taste?

Sage did things quite simply: brushed her teeth, washed her face with a bar of soap she’d packed in a plastic bag, and put on sunscreen that smelled like coconut.

“If I don’t put on sunscreen my face turns into one giant freckle,” she’d grumbled, which made him smile.

He’d held her hand as they walked down the stairs, and then sent her outside with the others while he made her tea. By the time he’d walked down the back steps with their drinks, she’d already been roped into the workout.

“They’re animals,” Darius was saying from where his head reclined on Rebecca’s thigh.

His wife shook her head. “Better they get it out this way. You know how Chuck gets when he’s been cooped up for too long.”

David looked around. “Where’s Tommy?”

“Sleeping still.”

He looked at Darius in disbelief. “Seriously? It’s after nine.”

“Your point being?”

“I haven’t slept in past nine in years.”

“You also never drink more than one mixed drink or two beers,” Darius retorted.

He wasn’t wrong.

Rebecca reached over with her bare foot and nudged David’s thigh. “I like her.”

“Sage?”

She smiled. “Mhm. She’s everything you need: confident, vibrant, and independent.”

“You think so?”

Darius chuckled. “She’s got this thing about her. Like she’s not afraid of the world, or maybe even like she’s daring the world to mess with her. You could use a little bit of that in your life.”

David frowned, thinking of Sage’s confidence. Her strength. Thinking of how much he’d come to count on her proximity; even when she was at the far end of the bench, it was enough for him to know that she was there. Something about her inspired him to trust his gut. To stand up a little taller.

There was no question that she made him better.

“Fuck,” Chuck groaned, flopping down on the deck next to them. “That felt good.”

Sage followed, dropping down right next to David. He pressed a quick kiss to her temple, tasting the salt on her skin. “Here.” He handed her the mug of tea, grateful it was still warm.

Her lips curved into that crooked smile. “You made me tea.”

“Of course I made you tea.”

She shook her head. “You’re too much.”

“So Sage,” Keaton asked, settling down in an old fashioned folding lawn chair, completing the lounging group on the wide dock. “What are your plans after graduation?”

David stilled.

It wasn’t that he’d been avoiding asking Sage that exact question. He’d wanted to, but he hadn’t wanted her to feel pressured to answer before she was ready. Because what if she was planning on moving away? He wasn’t sure that he was ready to hear her response.

Sage leaned back, tilting her face up toward the sun that now shone directly down on them. He watched the way the light hit the hairs that had escaped her ponytail, glowing the color of honey.

“I’m thinking about coaching,” she said, and David could hear the little bit of hesitation in her voice. “Ideally at the high school level.”

David opened his mouth to respond, but Chuck jumped in. “That’ll be great, Sage.”

“Well,” she continued. “Even if I find a coaching job, it probably won’t be enough to live off of. So I’ll need to do something else while I get my feet under me.”

“There’s pretty good money in private coaching,” Keaton added. “I did some training the summer after college before starting law school. If you get the serious athletes it’s decent enough.”

“Would you ever go back to California?”

What the fuck, Chuck? David fought an overwhelming urge to drop kick his best friend into the lake.

Sage shrugged. “Probably not. But if I don’t find something, I’ll at least have to think about it.”

A relieved exhale punched through him. She wasn’t leaving, she wasn’t leaving, she wasn’t leaving .

Or, she wasn’t leaving as long as she found a job.

David reached over and gently squeezed the warm skin of her thigh. “You’re going to be an incredible coach, Lefty. Not a doubt in my mind about that.”

Sage leaned down, nudging his shoulder with her forehead. He knew her well enough to recognize the gesture for what it was. Silent gratitude.

A sudden shadow passed over his head.

Before he could second-guess his reaction, David had dropped his coffee, leapt to his feet and, without hesitating, dove headfirst into the lake.

The water was still chilled from the night, and as soon as he surfaced he was sucking in lung-fulls of air as he tried to shake the water from his hair. He heard the familiar laughter of his friends, but his eyes went straight to Sage, who was staring at him with an expression of shocked confusion.

“I,” she started, glancing between David and the others, who were all doubled over and hollering. Assholes . “What the fuck was that?”

David glanced up, catching the curve of the black wings as the grackle swooped over the roof of the house and disappeared from sight. Creepy, beady-eyed demons , he thought, scanning the sky in case more of them were around.

“David is afraid of birds,” Chuck managed to gasp out between laughs.

David paddled back toward the dock, managing to shoot his best friend the middle finger as he scowled up at him. “Not all birds, you asshole,” he grumbled. He reached up to grab the edge of the platform, and, gathering his strength, pushed himself up out of the water. “Just the skinny black ones.”

Sage’s eyebrows shot up her forehead as a grin pulled at her lips. “Grackles?”

David shuddered as he stretched his legs out on the warm wood of the dock.

“David,” Sage continued. “You’re huge. They’re small. Make this make sense to me.”

Behind him, Rebecca giggled.

He let out a groan. “They’re unpredictable!”

Now Sage’s laugh joined in with the others. With a resigned sigh, he flopped back onto his back, crossing his arms over his face just in case the goddamn terror of a bird decided to show back up.

* * *

As soon as Maggie arrived and was settled into her room, the whole group — including Tommy, who’d finally dragged himself out of bed — went out on the pontoon boat that came with the house.

David was content to sit on one of the bench seats in the front with Sage’s bare skin pressed against his. He had a hat pulled down over his forehead and sunglasses on to battle the bright glare of the sun on the still water.

Sage looked too good to be real in an orange bikini that left miles and miles of her skin exposed, and she wore a green trucker hat to shade her face. Her hair was in two braids, which curved down her chest and rested on her pert breasts.

His brain was reduced to a refrain of lovely, lovely, so goddamn lovely .

Maggie and Rebecca sat together on the facing bench, and the three women had fallen into a conversation that bounced from topic to topic amid laughter and loud proclamations of “What” and “No fucking way!”

Keaton drove the boat, and Darius, Tommy, and Chuck sat in the back, quietly conversing over beers.

It was good. So good to be there, and any lingering fear in the back of his mind that Sage might not fit in with them was completely washed away as he watched the relaxed smile on her face.

He couldn’t lose her .

The thought crashed into the forefront of his mind, loud and demanding. He knew it wasn’t his choice to make. It was hers, all hers. Sage was at a point in her life where endless opportunities were open to her. She could go anywhere and do anything, and goddammit he wanted that for her. He wanted to watch her take on the world.

But was it wrong that he wanted to be there for it all? He wanted to be up close, to see her first thing in the morning when she was all soft and cuddly, to make her tea in a to-go mug, and then to see her at the end of the day, to walk through the park with Daisy together, to eat together, and then to lay her out in their bed and worship her.

He wanted that so badly that his chest ached.

And if she was coaching? He could already imagine them debating the merits of zone versus man defense and sharing play ideas. She’d poke through his self-doubt the way she always did, and he’d encourage her to trust her gut. They’d take on the world together, working from the courtside to build up the next generation of players.

He had an idea, one that could make it all work out. One that would keep Sage there in Charleston. Keep her close to him. Keep her with him.

He just had to convince her to accept his help.

* * *

The week passed in a blur of diving into the cool water, applying aloe lotion to sunburned shoulders, grilling out on the deck, pool tournaments, and almost constant banter between Maggie and Keaton, who’d decided that they disagreed on anything and everything.

It had started with an argument about what actually distinguished a top shelf liquor, and quickly devolved into a shouting match about classism and taste and Southern wealth. The rest of them had briefly considered intervening, but honestly the two of them seemed to be enjoying themselves.

Every night, David took Sage to bed, where they continued to figure out new and creative ways to get each other off. Nothing compared to those moments when their bodies were moving together with nothing between them but sweat and hunger and a growing realization on David’s part that he never wanted to let her go.

It was a perfect break after the grind of the winter months, but by the end of the week David was ready to go home.

This would be his first year going through recruitment, and he was excited to travel around the country to scout the next class of Southeastern players. Players he would bring to the program.

And, for the next three years at least, it was his program. He’d gotten the email midweek from Connie with confirmation that they were offering him not only a contract extension, but a raise to go along with it. It was more than he could have imagined during those long, sleepless nights early in the season.

He’d shared his news with the group, and everyone had been predictably excited for him. But nothing compared to the pride and happiness in Sage’s green eyes when she’d held his face in her hands and whispered, “Fuck yes, Coach,” before kissing him senseless in the middle of the kitchen.

They’d celebrated privately — and very nakedly — later that night.

It was everything he’d wanted, what he’d dreamed about since he’d hung up his green and gold jersey, and yet there was a little feeling of dread that he couldn’t quite shake.

Now, it was the Sunday afternoon before the end of the break, and they were all packing up to make the drive back to Charleston.

Goodbyes and hugs were exchanged, along with promises to plan dinners and an evening at The Grove in the next few weeks.

David leaned against his car as he watched Sage and Rebecca exchange numbers. Sage’s skin had turned a golden tan, and her blonde hair had lightened in the sun. He could easily imagine her on a beach in California, with her cut off jeans and thin-strapped tank top.

Finally they were on the road, with Daisy curled up in Sage’s lap. They were quiet, but it was the good kind of quiet that came after days of constant social interaction and late nights. David was content, perfectly at peace with the way things felt between them. Well, except for the question of the following year.

“So I’ve been thinking about what you said. About coaching.”

Sage glanced over at him. “Okay.”

“I’ve got a buddy who coaches at one of the bigger high schools in Charleston. Their program is good — they’ve been to state almost every year since he started. I’d be happy to call him and -”

“No.” Her face was expressionless, impossible to read as she shifted in her seat to face him.

David took a slow breath, momentarily tightening his knuckles on the steering wheel. “Can I ask why not?”

“I want to earn my spot, David. Wherever I end up, I want to go somewhere that wants me for who I am.”

“What about references?” He couldn’t figure out why she was being so fucking stubborn about this. “There’s nothing wrong with using the network that you have. Everyone does.”

“I said no,” she repeated, and a wry, sad smile crossed her face as she shook her head.

David remembered his first year coaching, when he’d been unsteady on his feet, confident in the basketball but totally clueless as to how to relate to the young men who’d barely reached puberty. And in those moments they’d looked at him like he couldn't possibly relate to their lives. Like he couldn’t possibly understand.

That was how Sage looked at him across the console. Like he was missing something obvious that was right there in front of him.

He let out a long huff of air. His hand found her thigh, resting against her skin in a way that had become comfortable and familiar. He gave her a firm squeeze. “Okay, Lefty. Just let me know if you change your mind.”

“I will.”

* * *

They’d gotten home and after grocery shopping and Italian take-out, Sage went back to her place to get some sleep.

Out of curiosity, David pulled up the local job postings for high school basketball coaching positions.

The results were abysmal. Only two postings for varsity women’s programs, and the JV programs paid so poorly that he couldn’t imagine Sage going for it. All of them cited a need for previous coaching experience, which, technically, she didn’t have.

David tossed his laptop onto the couch next to him, burying his face in his hands and letting out a frustrated groan.

The job prospects for her in Charleston weren’t good. There were only two professional sports teams — a soccer team and a minor league hockey team, both small enough that they likely didn’t have many jobs. He’d checked their websites, and they were only hiring janitorial staff.

The thought of Sage Fogerty doing anything other than what she dreamed of doing made him nauseous. Shouldn’t she get the chance to do what she wanted?

And if that chance wasn’t in Charleston, she’d have to leave.

He wouldn’t — couldn’t — be the one to make her stay. Not for him. Not where her entire life and future were waiting ahead of her. It would be selfish.

“Fuck,” he muttered, grabbing his phone from the table. His thumbs moved over the screen, composing a message.

He hit send before he could talk himself out of it.

Flopping back on the couch, he glanced over at Daisy, who let out a forlorn whimper from where she was cuddled up on top of one of the cushions.

He grabbed his most recent novel and his glasses, settling back onto the couch. He forced his eyes to focus on the words on the page, in spite of the sinking feeling that he’d just done something irreparably stupid.