Page 7
CHAPTER 6
IT WAS MEDIOCRE
DAVID
The minute David showed up back in Charleston, he’d been absorbed by the group of his college friends who’d stuck around after graduating. Chuck had been his roommate, and then Darius, Tommy, and Ford had all been on the basketball team with him. Additionally, there was Keaton, who’d been one of Chuck’s teammates on the swimming team.
It was more than a homecoming to be coaching at Southeastern. It was a return to his community.
And, since the minute he’d locked up his office for the weekend, David hadn’t stopped smiling.
They’d all gone to dinner together earlier: twelve men — the local guys and old teammates visiting from out of town — catching up on their families, spouses, and kids, and of course a healthy amount of reminiscing about the past.
Now they were heading into a dark bar where, according to the guys, the alumni from their time were gathering.
It was crowded, with a clinging heat hanging in the air from the bodies that filled every corner of the place. David was glad he’d gone with a short sleeved button up, as he was already sweating. Laughter and conversations almost entirely drowned out the music.
He followed the guys as they wove their way through the crowd toward the bar. David was always painfully aware of his size in environments like this; he tried to dodge as many people as he could, muttering a constant stream of apologies as he inevitably brushed against the bodies around him.
Finally, they made it to the bar.
He’d already had a beer with dinner, which meant whatever ordered would be his last drink of the night. Given that it sounded like the guys were planning to hang out for a while, he gambled and ordered a whiskey ginger, figuring he had enough time for the buzz to wear off before he needed to worry about making sure everyone made it home safely.
Once he had his drink, he almost immediately got sucked into a conversation with someone he vaguely recognized who wanted to congratulate him on his new job.
Time passed in a bit of a blur. It felt like he was having the same conversation over and over again: Hey, it’s so and so, remember me? What are you doing these days? You married? Got kids?
Finally he extracted from a conversation with a woman who had been particularly interested in his lack of a wife, and, while she was attractive, there was something about how she looked at him that made his skin crawl.
He beelined for the bathroom, letting out a relieved sigh when he saw that the line was for the women’s room. As he washed his hands, he glanced up at his reflection in the mirror.
He scowled at himself as he tugged his shirt down from where the fabric stuck to his stomach, silently cursing the extra layer of padding he couldn’t get rid of.
Aging was a pain in the ass.
He walked back out into the crowd, eyes catching a familiar face sitting at one of the tables.
Changing his course, he made his way over to the table. “Gus,” he called out as soon as he was within earshot, raising a hand in a wave. “Haven’t seen you in years, man.”
“Hughes!” Gus stood up, and David noticed then that he was sitting with a blonde woman whose back was to him. The bearded man pulled him into a back-slapping hug that David returned before stepping back. “How the hell are you?”
“I’m -” David started, only to promptly lose all memory of what words were when the blonde turned around and revealed a face that he definitely hadn’t been trying not to think about.
Goddamnit she looked beautiful. Her hair hung loose, waving around her shoulders like she was a mermaid or something. Her dress was low cut and there was so much of her skin exposed that he felt like his brain hit a speed bump. Glancing down, he actually had to stop himself from groaning at the sight of the short dress revealing miles of tan, bare thighs.
His hand had been on that thigh before, only there had been a thick layer of denim in the way. He wanted, no, needed , to feel the real thing.
Suddenly, his brain decided to come back online, and he was painfully aware of the fact that he had not-at-all subtly been staring.
At Sage Fogerty.
Who he wasn’t allowed to stare at.
God damn it.
He turned back to Gus, who was looking at him with an expression that very clearly communicated what the fuck are you doing? Because Gus and Sage had obviously been having a moment together, and he’d interrupted. Clearing his throat, David tried to salvage the situation. “Sorry man,” he mumbled, forcing a grin. “Had a few tonight.”
Gus, ever the good-natured, easy-going guy, waved off the apology. “Congrats on the coaching gig.”
“Thanks. It feels good to be back.”
“You guys know each other?”
Both men looked at Sage, whose eyes darted back and forth between them.
It was Gus who answered her question. “We were in school together. He was a year ahead, but his roommate Chuck was on the swim team with me, so we hung out a lot.” A curious look crossed his face. “Do you know each other?”
David opened his mouth, but Sage spoke first. “I’m the team manager for men’s basketball for my master’s program.”
“Badass,” Gus said, the word directed toward Sage like an affectionate nickname as his hand came down to rest on her back.
David watched with a small amount of satisfaction as she rolled her eyes, even as her cheeks gained a bit of that pink flush.
“Right,” Gus turned back to him, all the while maintaining his hold on Sage, who had redirected her attention to her drink. “It was really good to see you, Hughes.”
It was an obvious dismissal, and David couldn’t figure out whether or not he wanted to stay or get as far away from them as possible.
“Good to see you too, Gus.”
He turned, walking in the opposite direction without any clear sense of where he was going.
When he bumped into Chuck, who was sitting on his phone in an empty booth, David squeezed in beside him with a groan.
“What’re you stressed about now?” Chuck asked, not even looking up from his phone.
Goddamned friends who knew him too well.
“Remember the girl from the bar?” David asked, knowing better than to try to lie to him.
Chuck looked up at that. “The blonde?”
David nodded. “She’s my team manager.”
“What?” Chuck blinked bright blue eyes at him, his reddish brows lowering like he was puzzling through a math problem. “How?”
“She’s a grad student at Southeastern. Doing the Master’s in sports management.”
“Oh shit,” Chuck shook his head. “But you guys didn’t…”
“No!” David almost shouted the response. “But we were planning on it. There’s no doubt that the plan was to… You know. Take her home.”
Chuck scooted closer. “Have you worked with her yet?”
Nodding as he scratched his cheek, David tried to figure out how to describe how things had been between himself and Sage so far.
He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting from the younger woman when they came face to face in his office, but she’d defied every assumption.
There was a youthful innocence to the way her round cheeks flushed bright pink, but then there was a steadiness and certainty about her that he could only dream of possessing. She handled herself around the team, easily slipping into humor while maintaining a toughness that made it very clear that she wouldn’t tolerate being messed with.
And the way she’d addressed what had almost happened between them head on?
I want you to treat me however you want.
She was a force, and not a single day had passed without him thinking about her.
“We’ve worked together a few times,” he said to Chuck. “She’s professional. Basically said that we could be friendly and adults about it.”
“Good on her.” Chuck seemed impressed. “So why are you freaking out right now?”
“She’s here.” He didn’t try to hide the frown on his face. “With Gus Brown.”
At that, Chuck laughed. “Oh shit. That’s rough.”
“What do you mean?” He knew why it was rough. He just didn’t understand why Chuck thought it was.
His friend gave him a look like he was a colossal idiot. “Gus gets the girl, and you have to sit back, behave, and watch it happen.” A sympathetic smile played on his mouth. “Objectively, it sucks.”
David pushed his empty tumbler away from himself. “It’s fine.”
“You know that it’s okay if it’s not fine, right?”
Damn Chuck and his damn friend telepathy.
All David could do was nod.
* * *
It was after midnight, and any hint of buzz he’d had had faded into a headache that concentrated right behind his left eye.
He’d wrangled all of his buddies into rideshares and cabs, confirming each address with the drivers before sending them off with the promise that they’d all text him when they got home safely. It didn’t matter that they were all men in their thirties who had their shit together. He had to make sure they were safe.
The bar was still crowded, with the conversations and laughter growing increasingly louder as the booze caught up with everyone.
He’d barely been able to unclench his jaw in the past hour. He could finally go home, but for some reason his eyes kept going to where Gus and Sage still sat together. There was no space between them, and he knew, in his gut, that if he waited around, he’d watch Gus wrap an arm around her waist and take her home.
Was she there alone? Was there anyone who was looking out for her?
He let out a frustrated breath. She wasn’t his problem. Not his responsibility. It wasn’t his job to make sure that she made it home safely. He was being a goddamned idiot, and he needed to get out of there.
Without a backwards glance, he closed his tab and walked out of the bar, going down the block to where he’d parked his Bronco.
He drove home, his knee bouncing and veins buzzing. He expected the late hour to catch up with him, but he couldn’t shake the energy in his body.
When he unlocked his apartment, he grabbed Daisy, not even bothering with a leash, carrying the wriggling, licking dog down to a little patch of grass, where she promptly did her business. He should be tired, but even after Daisy was curled in a ball in the little dog bed that sat next to his, he still couldn’t settle.
Thank god for the twenty-four hour gym.
Three minutes later he was on the treadmill, feet pounding the belt as his attention sunk down into his body, finally replacing the noise of his head with pins and needles as his muscles woke up, responding to the exertion.
He pushed through twenty minutes of running, stepping off of the still-moving belt and moving to the mat, where he worked through another twenty minutes of deep stretching. He was too old to avoid it, and everything felt better after a deep stretch.
An hour later, he was finally exhausted. He lay back on the mat, muscles burning perfectly after lifting weights and then finishing with a short yoga flow. He rolled up to his feet, wiping down the wet spot where he’d been lying before moving to the door.
It was still hot even under the cover of midnight. Tall lamps lit the sidewalk that wound its way through the apartment complex, and he could smell the heavy fragrance of magnolia blossoms.
He started toward his building, only to stop short as he saw someone walking toward him. He would recognize those legs anywhere.
“Sage?”
She started, staggering a bit in the high heels that made her even taller than usual. He scanned her, subconsciously checking for injury or discomfort, but other than the slightly glazed look in her eyes she seemed fine.
Drunk and too damn beautiful for her own good, but fine.
“Are you alright?” He asked, walking toward her. He couldn’t stop himself from reaching out to gently grip her elbow, and felt a profound sense of contentment when she leaned some of her weight into him.
“Totally fine.” She smiled, and it was softer than he was used to seeing. “Sleepy, but fine.” She then seemed to focus on his face, her expression fading to puzzlement. “What are you doing here?”
David had been so relieved to see her that he hadn’t even gotten that far in his head. “I was about to ask you the same thing,” he said, because of course that’s what he should be worried about, not the fact that her hair was tangled in the back and dark makeup smudged under her eyes.
Sage looked around them, her lips turning down in a frown that looked more like a pout.
It was adorable .
“I live here.” She turned to look behind her, before peering around David’s shoulder. “Up there, I think.”
Goddamnit .
“Oh,” he managed to choke out. “I live here too. Over there.” He released his hold on her arm to point toward his building, only to immediately grab her again when she swayed back in the absence of his touch. Shit . “Can I walk you home?”
“Nope.”
He raised his brows at her. “Seriously?”
She scowled at him. “I don’t want your help.”
“Please, Sage.” He wasn’t above begging if meant getting her home safely.
She shook her head. “Nope. I got it.”
“What if I told you that I’m actually your neighbor so I happen to be walking that way?”
“That’s bullshit.”
Annoyance and amusement warred within him. She was being frustratingly stubborn, but damn if a tiny part of him wasn’t enjoying himself. “Or what if I need to run a set of stairs to finish off my workout?”
She looked down, as though she was just noticing his workout gear and the fact that he was drenched in sweat.
“You don’t need the stairs,” she said, waving a hand toward his lower body. “You’ve got the hottest thighs I’ve ever seen and a perfect, perfect butt.” She twirled, ankles wobbling, but managed to regain her balance. “I’m going now.”
“I’m coming with you.”
He started walking beside her, a hand hovering behind her in case she stumbled.
She looked over at him. Again, there was that scowl. “Am I allowed to call you annoying?”
He snorted, amusement officially winning out. “I think in this situation, you can call me whatever you want.”
They walked together in silence for a moment, before David couldn’t hold back his question any longer.
“How’d you get home?”
Her steps faltered. His hand was on her back in an instant, supporting her until she regained her balance. “Fuck these shoes,” she muttered, leaning down and pulling the heels off one at a time. Now barefoot, she resumed walking, and David reluctantly removed his hand.
“Gus,” she finally answered.
David felt his jaw clench as the muscles in his shoulders tightened. He forced himself to take a deep breath. When he’d completely emptied his lungs, he responded. “Oh.”
Quiet fell between them again. David’s head spun, too many simultaneous things up there to pin down or name.
“It was mediocre.”
“What?” He looked over at her. Her gaze was down on the ground as she walked. He noticed that her toenails were painted blue.
“The sex,” she said, the words falling from her lips like she was commenting on the weather. “It was in the back of a car. Too crowded.”
He choked on nothing, sputtering as he attempted to cover it up with a cough. What in the ever-loving shit was he supposed to say to that?
“Oh,” he managed to croak out.
Sage made a soft humming noise. “You should line up Jordan’s shot on the left.”
His brain was breaking. Did she seriously just jump from commenting on how another man had been in bed to basketball ?
“Oh?” Apparently his entire vocabulary had been reduced to a single word.
“He’s right handed,” she said, matter of fact, “but his shot improves by 25% when he’s shooting on the left side.”
Huh .
It was the kind of thing he was looking for when he watched game tape, but honestly he’d been so caught up in watching the team as a whole that he’d just only just started to scratch the surface of evaluating the individual players.
He looked over at Sage, curious. “Been watching them play?”
She shrugged. “I’m around. Sometimes we’re in the gym at the same time, and the other night I rebounded for him.”
“You still play?” Based on how she’d reacted to questions about her playing during their meeting, he’d assumed that she’d left the game behind.
“Of course I still play.” She looked at him with a sad smile. “Well, I shoot. Alone.” One of her hands reached up to tuck a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “Do you?”
“Not as much as I want to,” he admitted. “But yes, occasionally.”
Sage moved toward a set of stairs that led to the second story apartments. He followed behind, never letting his eyes leave her. If she stumbled, he would be there.
“If you weren’t you, I’d say we should play together,” she said, glancing back over her shoulder at him. Her mouth curved up into a smirk. “I think I could probably beat you.”
He chuckled, trying to imagine the woman in front of him on the court. He found that it wasn’t such a reach to imagine her playing, her long body stretching toward the basket.
He definitely shouldn’t find that image arousing.
What the hell was wrong with him?
When she stopped at a door and fumbled with a key ring, he looked down, reading the mat that said “Welcome-ish” in looping cursive. She opened the door, turning for a moment and locking eyes with him.
Why did she have to be so lovely ?
She looked at him with a small, crooked smile as she leaned against the door jamb. “Night, Coach,” she said softly.
“Goodnight, Sage.” He dipped his chin, already starting to back away even though all he wanted to do was follow her.