Page 41 of Undeniable

I headed back down the hallway in the opposite direction, hoping that there was a sign for the coaches’ offices or something similar. As I walked, I noted the upscale finishes—the ceiling tiles, paint and flooring were all top of the line and nothing similar to Willowwood High School. When we graduated, they’d finally replaced the last chalkboard.

Farther down the hall, a door opened and one of the players stepped out. Without a plan, I hurriedly continued in that direction.

“Yeah, see the trainer tomorrow when you get here. Let me know what they say, okay?”

“Will do. Thanks, Coach.”

The player turned and headed in the opposite direction from me. Ivy turned to head back into what I assumed was her office, only to stop midstep when her eyes landed on me.

“What—what are you doing here?” she asked quickly and peered down the hallway.

“I need to talk to you.”

She groaned and glanced backward like she was contemplating escaping into her office. I tried not to let the defeat on her face affect me too much. “Fine,” she finally conceded.

Ivy stepped through the threshold without glancing back to make sure I followed. I did follow, though, and shut the door behind me.

The bright fluorescent lights from the hallway continued into the open space, and I realized it wasn’t just her office. There were several monitors and desk chairs along the perimeter of the room, and each area was decorated with pictures and personal knickknacks.

“You share this office with other coaches?”

She crossed to a desk in the far corner that was surrounded by her own framed photographs of family and friends. Quickly, Ivy shut down her computer before gathering papers and shoving them into a tote bag.

“Yes,” she quipped. “What are you doing here?”

Her defensive tone made me grit my teeth. I knew I wasn’t the best surprise, but she didn’t even give me a chance before biting my head off.

“You’re a great coach. Your team looks great.”

She wanted to look annoyed, and she did, only there was a glimmer of something else in her eyes. Something that wasn’t anger or indifference or annoyance.

“I know. Now, answer my question: what are you doing here?”

Giving up, I sighed and tilted my head toward the ceiling. “I want to go back to Willowwood. For the festival.”

She choked out an unamused laugh, and I closed my eyes, waiting for her verbal claws to make their appearance.

“What?” she asked, still laughing.

“I want to go back for the festival.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at me from under lowered lids.

“Well, go then. I’m not stopping you.”

Uncomfortable with the favor I was about to ask, I scrubbed a hand through my unruly hair and shuffled under her stare. I contemplated it one more time. Was it worth asking Ivy to ride with her up there to make my mom happy? I sighed. It was worth it, but that didn’t stop me from using my last chance to come up with an alternative.

“I can’t. My car was stolen and the cops are still trying to find it. So if I want to go, it’s either rent a car for four days or catch a ride.”

Her shoulders slumped, and she tilted her own head toward the ceiling. Her reaction was exactly what I expected.

“Surely you can afford a rental car,” she muttered at the ceiling. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed hard and finally fixed her striking green eyes back on me.

“Is that a no?”

Instead of answering, Ivy slung her backpack over her shoulders and grabbed the tote from where it lay on her chair. She rounded the table in the center of the room and brushed past me. Without hesitation, she pulled the door open and walked out into the hallway.

“Fucking hell,” I cursed under my breath and hurried after her.

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