Page 185 of Whistle

I liked coffee, but this kid was addicted to espresso. Drank it at every practice and before every meet. Could be worse habits, in my opinion.

“You don’t have to give him your trauma latte, angel,” Win supplied. “We’ll get him another.”

“I want to,” Lars said, gazing back at Bodhi. “He needs it, and… that’s what friends do.”

Lars stepped away from Win and came around the side of the bed. I noticed the way Rush stiffened and how Win took a step forward. The entire room seemed to wait with bated breath as Lars approached Bodhi.

“Here, Bodhi,” Lars said, holding out the paper cup. “I really haven’t had a sip. And I’m not really sure what happened, but I’m glad you’re okay.”

Lars fell quiet, latte extended between them as everyone stared and Bodhi did nothing. He didn’t even look at Lars. I didn’t intervene, not this time. We weren’t at the pool, so I wouldn’t force them to get along. This wasn’t even a team thing but something deeper. Something Bodhi needed to confront.

I heard his thick swallow and felt his attention when he glanced at me out of the corner of his eye.

Not caring that everyone was watching, I leaned in and kissed his cheek. “It’s okay,” I whispered. Not every battle could be won in a day, and Bodhi had already conquered so much.

“He can have mine,” I told Madison, gesturing for the coffee.

“Thanks,” Bodhi said, “Lars.” I glanced over to see him accepting the cup from Lars and taking a sip immediately. After he swallowed, he said, “It’s good.”

Lars didn’t give a significant reaction, just nodded. “Caramel always hits different after trauma.”

“I think you’re right.”

Everyone stayed quiet, staring at the two as though they were on exhibit at the zoo. It was literally just shared coffee… yet it was way more.

Clearing his throat, Lars went back across the room, slipping up to Win who kissed his forehead and pulled him into his side.

Madison passed me the last coffee, and Jamie shoved a box of open donuts under my nose. Half of them were already gone. “Snack?”

“Get those fried sugar bombs out of my face.”

“Sorry, Coach. Forgot you can’t eat like this in your old age. I’ll eat it for you.”

Satan was really working overtime.

He pulled back, but I made a sound and gestured for the box. The second I reached in, someone else spoke. “A minute on your lips, a lifetime on your hips.”

We all turned to see Prism standing there with a latte and a smile.

“That’s what my gran always says,” he told the room.

“Gran is a wise woman,” Arsen said.

“Practically the Dalai Lama,” Kruger parroted.

“Your gran is older than me,” I grumped, snatching a donut and pushing it under Bodhi’s nose. “Eat that.”

“I’m not hungry,” he argued.

“When’s the last time you ate?”

He blanched.

“Exactly,” I said, completely livid that he didn’t even know. That was changing. Immediately. Even if I had to feed him myself. “Here.” I grabbed another donut and stacked it on the first one. “Eat two.”

“Em,” he whined.

“Eat it, Goldilocks,” I ordered. “Hopefully, they both stick to your hips.”

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