Page 108 of Courtside

“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.

CHAPTER28

ON MY OWN MERIT

SAGE

The weeks after spring break turned into the kind of academic sludge that reminded Sage of the week before finals. However, apparently the last two months of school for the Sports Management students were an actual nightmare.

She was exaggerating a bit. But there were projects and papers and presentations and meetings that filled up her days, leaving her feeling like she was working a 9 to 5. She’d gotten in the habit of packing a lunch of dinner leftovers to take with her to campus, because she had neither the time nor money to afford eating at the cafe on campus every day.

Even her laptop had started whining whenever she powered it on, like it was as exhausted as she was.

She’d still managed to get her workouts in before driving to class, but she hadn’t had the time or energy to go to the gym at night to shoot. After months spent courtside, even though she’d been at the end of the bench, she found that she missed basketball. She missed it in a way that she hadn’t allowed herself to in the years since her career as a player had ended.

She also missed David.

He’d been traveling almost every week, actively scouting their potential recruits for the following year. When he was gone, they exchanged occasional texts, which was more than enough for her. She didn’t need constant communication to know that he cared about her.

Sage had started taking care of Daisy when David was gone, which she loved. Even though her schedule was bonkers, walking the dog a few times a day got her outside and in the sun. She may or may not have even smuggled her into the library in her bag a few times.

And, on the days when David was home, things were good. Really fucking good.

They shared most of their lives with each other. They shared meals. They shared reading, each of them with their own books, lost in separate stories but together with their legs tangled on the couch. They both loved to exercise; when David was in town, they’d go to the gym together and then move through different routines, occasionally passing the other with a fond pinch or slap to the butt.

David had tried to rope her into the yoga flow that he did after he worked out, but Sage had her limits.

And of course they shared basketball, both as a passion and — hopefully for Sage — a vocation.

The search for coaching jobs wasn’t going well. She’d posted her resume on four or five different hiring sites, and hadn’t heard from anyone other than the typical outside sales positions that targeted recent college graduates. She was at the point of considering a 9 to 5 office job and then trying to find a JV or assistant coaching job that she could do in the afternoons and evenings. It wasn’t that she minded working her way up. In an ideal world, she’d learn the ropes from a more experienced coach before taking on the responsibility of a team of her own.

It all came down to the money. She couldn’t afford to dive head-on into coaching without having sustainable income from somewhere else. The money she’d saved would last through the end of the semester, and then she had to get a job if she wanted to keep paying rent and eating vegetables.

Shereallywasn’t ready to give up vegetables.

But she also wasn’t ready to give up her life in Charleston.

Beyond David, there was Maggie, who’d been over to her apartment a few times for late dinners and way too much wine. There was also Rebecca, who’d taken to sending her recipes, and Chuck, who shouted his greetings at her whenever they passed in the Humphrey Center.

She had a life in Charleston. One with friendships and routine and community.

David had a rare Saturday morning at home, so they took Daisy downtown to the farmers market. They strolled down the cobbled brick walk, checking out the booths of seasonal produce, flowers, and locally made products. The pink-stoned steeple of Citadel Square Church towered up above Marion Square, and somewhere a band was playing an acoustic cover of The Beatles’ “Eight Days A Week.”

David wore khaki pants that made his ass and thighs look indecent and a dark blue short-sleeved button-up. Sage’s sundress was a soft cotton jersey, green, with a scooped neckline and capped sleeves. It was probably the most comfortable article of clothing that she owned.

They walked hand in hand, winding their way through the throngs of people. Daisy trotted ahead of them, greeting everyone with a jingle of her collar and a smile. They had to stop every few minutes so that someone could pet her and coo over how cute she was.

“Graduation is a month away. How are you feeling?”

Sage glanced up at him. His grip on her hand tightened.

“Ready to be done,” she answered honestly. “This semester has been brutal.”

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