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The breeze blows Mali’s hair into her face and does nothing to calm the shake in her legs. She has no idea why she said she’d do yoga. Well, she does—she can do yoga, and she thinks it’s funny to watch grown men fall asleep in child’s pose. The team need to boost their presence on social media, and seeing as none of them are willing to do it themselves, Mali must take drastic measures.

Sponsorships are still coming in, but most of the queries are about the reach these players currently have. Blyke is a big sponsor, and an anomaly in that they appear to be in it for the long haul. They think the Titans will make it to the premiership, and they’re banking on being their main sponsor when they do.

Mali still has her sights set on Goliath. They’ve responded to an email, but they’re reluctant due to the limited reach of some of the players. Them being able to fund a junior league means nothing if the juniors don’t turn up. Some of the team have started incorporating their hobbies and small bits of their life into their social media. It’s all Mali has asked for, but the whole team need to be invested, and they’re not currently.

So, Mali stands in her shorts and her favourite sports top. It’s an old rugby top (the first Zachariah Azan top her father bought her). Mali wonders if she should tell the team they might have the chance to pick projects to fund with the sponsorship. Perhaps that would get them more engaged. But she’ll mention it after this because she wants to see Zach bent over… for scientific reasons.

Frankie is here for backup, and Mali is so jealous of her arms it’s not even funny. She’s just not going to mention it.

Mali sighs. “Why have you got such good arms?”

Frankie laughs, her hand coming across her mouth. “What—”

“Don’t talk to me. You look too good.”

Frankie throws her head back, then charges at her.

“Frank!” Mali says with a screech. Frankie doesn’t throw her to the floor, thankfully, but she does lift her, and Mali wraps her legs around her waist and lets her arms fly into the air.

“This is fun!”

“I’m giving the guys some motivation.”

“What, showing them you can throw someone around?”

“Yes, and your arse in these shorts.”

Mali snorts, and Frankie deposits her on the floor.

“Okay, just how flexible do I need to be?” Frankie asks.

“Can you bend over and touch your toes?”

“Alright, Ludacris.” But she does, in fact, bend over and touch her toes.

Mali snaps a photo. “Hot.”

Mali wants to know if Frankie wants a sponsorship, but she hasn’t mentioned it yet. There’s a lot of politics and heartache that come from being a queer Black woman in sports, and Mali needs to make sure they can be at least semi-successful before reaching out.

Frankie groans as she gets back up, her hand on her lower back. “I haven’t done any stretching in way too long. I used to get my leg above my head, I promise.”

“How are you still single?”

Frankie throws a rugby ball at her, and despite Frankie not having played in months, Mali still has to dodge so it doesn’t hit her in the stomach.

“Show me your best move,” Frankie says.

“Technically best, or like, look at this fancy split I can do?”

“I’m a lesbian.”

Mali rolls her eyes. “I know. You only mention it every three seconds.”

Mali also knows what Frankie wants, and as she’s still waiting for the guys to get to the pitch, she places her hands on the ground. The grass is wet, but it won’t make her fall. She tenses her stomach, slowly moving into a handstand. Frankie whoops, and Mali tries not to laugh as she spreads her legs into a split. It’s the first move she learnt at yoga, but she did do gymnastics as a child. Her top begins to drop down her stomach, and she makes a mental note to tuck it in as she spins her legs, until her toes touch the ground and she’s upright again.

“Holy fuck, Mal. How are you still single?” Frankie asks, and Mali flips her off. If Frankie liked Zach more, Mali probably would have told her about the obscenely large crush Mali has on him. Alas, Frankie groans whenever he enters the room, and Mali thinks she’ll get too defensive over him when she doesn’t actually know the reason behind their spat.

Also, Mali feels bad about her crush now. Zach said she was his best friend, and he was clearly nervous, and now she can’t lean across the counter and kiss him because they’re friends. Obviously, now he’s told her they’re friends (and she explained why she was surprised because he avoided rooms with her in them up until last week), he’s been more obvious in his care for her. She’s not sure how she missed it before. He wasn’t shouting it in her face, but it was there. In the smoothies he makes her; the way her blankets are always folded, even if she fell asleep on the couch; the way her vase has been full ever since she started work and she hasn’t bought a bunch of flowers since day one.

So, she’ll be the best friend he ever had, and she’ll be happy about it.

Mali rolls her neck, looking out onto the rugby pitch. Most of the players are out now, but she waits—oh, Zach is looking right at her. She didn’t realise he was here yet. She waves, but he blinks and turns away. Sometimes, he’s still a weirdo, but she likes him all the same.

She grabs the whistle Frankie keeps trying to take back from her. “Ready?!” she calls.

She blows the whistle, and demonstrates the first pose.

It’s four poses later that she realises this was a terrible idea.

Mali and her new not going to crush on her best friend agenda is not helped by this yoga session. She’s obsessed with his thighs, and the way he grunts when she tries to explain a new position. Really, she was supposed to help them blow off steam, and now all she has is six new positions she wants to get Zach into. God, she’s an awful, awful person.

She also has to keep running away from Frankie when she abuses the whistle.

“Toby, get lower!” Frankie calls.

“Frank,” Mali says, and she comes running over from where she was half pretending to be in a stretch.

“What’s up?”

“I have a question. Like, a personal question.”

“Juicy,” Frankie replies, raising her eyebrows quickly. Mali laughs, unsure of how much she even wants to share. Mali likes Frankie a lot. She’s more than a work friend. But she’s not her best friend. Ugh.

“I live with a guy, and I need to get off without him knowing,” she says quietly.

“Oh.”

“I am so tired of playing acoustic pussy.”

Frankie laughs so hard she falls to the floor. “Acoustic—”

“Frankie!” Mali laughs, kicking her lightly against her thigh. “Shut up!”

Frankie laughs so loud everyone looks over at them, and no, they can’t hear what she’s saying because she can barely speak, but she thinks they might figure it out from the blush on her cheeks.

When she calms down and wipes the dramatic tears from her face, Frankie says, “Ask Zach to fuck you.”

“Oh my God!” Mali groans. “Shh!”

“He can’t hear me. I’m practically whispering. If you don’t wanna ask him, make it obvious you want to.”

“Bye,” Mali says, moving away from Frankie quickly. “Next pose.”

It distracts the guys enough, and they all immediately stand upright, then bend over until they can touch the ground with the palms of their hands. Some of them are bent right in half, and some of them look like triangles.

“Frank, focus!” Mali shouts as she walks away. Frankie has been using the session to figure out training plans for the players—some who might have hip issues as opposed to anything with their knees. She’s also in charge of photos, so she needs to get up.

“Kai,” Mali says, then taps the back of his knee. “If you’re struggling here, bend your knees slightly. Yeah, like that. We want to get your thighs as loose as possible, but you’ve got a match next week, and if you pull a hamstring, Frankie is going to kill me.”

“You got it, Coach.”

“Hey,” Mali says, as she strolls up to Zach. He’s been doing frustratingly well. Hardly needing any pointers, which means she has no reason to come and see him, even though he ditched his shirt ages ago.

“Hi.” He groans.

“You need any help?”

Zach laughs, though it sounds like a cough. “You tell me, Okeye.”

“Hmm… here,” she says, standing behind him. His stomach tenses as she touches his waist, and she truly has never thought about fucking someone from behind like this, but the thought is going to plague her mind for the rest of time.

Mali repositions her hands. They’re more secure now. For safety. “Lift your hips.”

“Mal,” he groans, and it’s truly a testament to her willpower that she’s not thrusting against him. “I can’t.”

“You can,” she replies, pulling her hands closer to his hips. She has to stand on her tiptoes, but it’s worth the effort when he grunts and pushes his hands closer to his feet.

“You’re doing so well.”

He chokes. “Fuck you.”

“Zach, think about how many hot people are going to be thinking about you later.”

“I don’t care about them,” he grunts. “Okay, how’s this?” He’s on his fingertips instead of having his palms flat, but it’s a pretty good show.

“Go—”

He falls to the floor. She stands over him, her head keeping the sunlight out of his eyes.

“Good job, honey.”

Zach usually showers at work. He even has his slides in his bag, but he’s not sure he’d get around the changing room without someone noticing his erection. He feels like a teenager, with the inability to get his dick to go down. It’s Mali’s fault, as it has been every single time he’s been hard since he met her. She had to stand behind him. She had to hold onto his hips. She had to praise him. He’s going insane with it.

For a while, he thought she was messing with him. That she fancies the fuck out of him, and she wants him so badly she’s flirting with him out in the open. She wants him to crawl under her desk and eat her out. She wants him.

And then she went over to Kai and told him he was doing a good job. She touched the back of Ezra’s knee. She helped Toby sort his footing out. And she didn’t come back to him. So, Zach put in more effort, and now he thinks he’s pulled a muscle in his back, which is the reason he’ll pretend he’s running home to shower and not showering here.

“Zach,” Mali calls out, and he spins to see her jogging towards him. As if he wouldn’t have waited for her. “Are you going home?”

“Yeah,” he replies, hoping she doesn’t call him out on his sweaty face and the fact he’s still got his uniform on.

“Can you wait two minutes?”

He frowns. Probably not. He’s about to come in his pants from the memory of her behind him. “Sure. Why?”

She smiles, and he doesn’t care what the reason is, he’ll wait anyway. “I’m working from home this afternoon because the internet’s being a nuisance. We can walk together.”

“Cool.”

She giggles. “Cool. Don’t move!” she says, then she runs back to her desk, and he leans against the wall, desperately trying to calm down.

By the time she’s back, Zach has successfully got his dick to soften. Slightly. Enough that no one would notice if they walked past, but not enough that if the wind was against him, the outline wouldn’t be the first thing people saw.

“Wanna walk by the river?” Mali asks. She tucks her briefcase between her legs and pulls his jumper over her head. Zach wonders why she didn’t do this at her desk. If she was worried he’d run away and leave her here.

“Sure,” he replies. Zach doesn’t walk along the river often. It’s not the direct route to their house, and he doesn’t ever have the desire to explore. But it’s a nice day, and he thinks Mali would look pretty with the river next to her.

“Yay, okay.”

Zach gives her another few minutes and then she pulls him out of the hallway with her hand on his arm.

The walk along the river is only a few minutes longer than going along the road, but it’s nice. Zach should take more time to do things he enjoys. He wonders if Mali would want to walk with him more often.

“Buff would love it here,” he says, and Mali laughs.

“Yeah. He’s allowed out of the house, but you know he loves to be cosy. I doubt he’s ever come this far. I get so scared a car will run him over.”

“It’s pretty,” Zach says, looking right at her, but she’s not looking at him.

She hums. “Did you used to come here?” Mali asks, looking up at him. “As a kid? We used to come for picnics all the time.”

“Not really,” he replies. “I’ve lived in Toulshire my whole life, give or take, but I don’t know, it’s never felt like home to me.”

“Really? You don’t think about bringing your kids here?”

Zach frowns. “I’m not having children.”

“Oh,” she replies, pulling her lip between her teeth. “Sorry. I know that’s not really a question you’re meant to ask anymore.”

Zach laughs lightly. “You’re allowed to ask your friend, just not some rando on the street.”

“My best friend,” she says, knocking into him with her shoulder. It’s cute, the way she frowns when he doesn’t move at all.

Zach wonders how true it is. He did want kids, but then it came to light that he would never get them, so he took it out of his life plan. He’s shoved it so far down that he doesn’t think about it every day. He’s not sure how fair it is that he misses something he never had.

“Are you going to bring your children here?” he asks, and her entire face lights up. He thought Mali wanted children, based on a few comments she’s made. His stomach tightens, and not in the good way. Not in the way it has all day. Zach never thought Mali would wanna be with him for real—beyond friends who chill in the front room together. Even if she did for some insane reason want to kiss him, he wouldn’t be able to give her what she wanted.

Mali nods. “Yeah, I hope so.” Her answer is more subdued than he thought it would be. He imagines her here, with tiny versions of her running around. Her partner is there too, and when Zach looks, he looks like him.

“How many do you want?”

Mali hums. “Uhm, three.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she replies. “Not at the same time, though.”

“Triplets would be wild,” he says, with a laugh. They’re walking slowly, and he almost thinks about sitting on the bench, but he decides against it. “I wanted children for a long time.”

“You did?” she asks. She looks at him with a hope he can’t place.

“Yeah. I just—I don’t know if I deserve to have them.”

Mali frowns. “Why not?”

“I dunno. I’ve never had a real relationship. No one wants to spend time with me. Why would I bring children into something like that?”

Mali stops walking and holds onto his wrist. She frowns. She looks like she might cry, and it hits him in the stomach.

“I want to spend time with you,” she whispers. “And just because you haven’t had a relationship yet doesn’t mean you won’t. You’re basically still a baby. Don’t count yourself out.”

“If you wanna have kids with me, just say so,” he says, with a laugh. It’s not a joke, though. The realisation he’d have children with her hits him so violently he almost falls over. She’s the only person in his life that cares enough about him to dig past his toughened exterior. Sure, it fell a bit easier for her because she has kind eyes and he’s always waiting for a time to please her, but still.

Mali rolls her eyes. “I want you to be happy. You deserve to be happy. Have you ever thought about therapy?”Mali mentions it so casually that it almost shocks him. Therapy isn't controversial for everyone. She wouldn't think he was doing it for any reason that to be happier.

Zach pouts. “I do think about it.” He wonders if he did it, would he be able to let himself think about the future in a happy light? Would he be able to picture a life he genuinely wants? Would going through the trauma of his childhood mean he gets to spend any more time with her?

Mali smiles. “Okay. Cool. Let’s go home.”

Zach follows her to their home, taking a few sly photos as she walks. He smiles at the thought of their home. It’s her house, but whenever he thinks about fixing things for her, he thinks of it as theirs.

“Zach,” she says, turning to look for him. He’s been caught. She smiles, throwing her head back. She’s so beautiful it makes him dizzy.

“Yeah?” he asks, jogging to catch up with her. He wants to know whatever she was going to say.

“You really are my best friend.”