Page 112 of Courtside

“Since when are you the expert on communicating with women?” David snapped. Everything hurt and he was so fucking tired.

“Come on, man,” Chuck admonished, sending a disappointed look David’s way.

Tommy cocked a brow at him. “Since Ididn’tlisten and my wife fucking left me, asshole.”

“Sorry,” David muttered. “That was shitty of me.”

“Yeah it was, but you’re sad and I love you, so we’re good.” Tommy got up and walked into the kitchen.

“I hate not doing anything to fix it,” David admitted to Chuck.

His friend gave him a sad smile. “You picked her, Hughes. If Sage is the kind of person who needs to take on things like this alone, then you’ve got to respect that if you want to be with her.”

“I know.” He let out a frustrated sigh. “She’s so capable, Chuck. She’s capable and beautiful and tough, and every minute of my life this year has been better because she’s been in it. So how am I supposed to sit back and donothingwhen I know what it takes to get a good coaching opportunity?”

“I think you’re supposed to support her and trust her, as painful as that may be.”

“And what about the part of me that needs to take care of her? I don’t think you get it; I feel like I’m being stabbed in the chest when I think about her taking on the world by herself. Not because I don’t think that she can, but because there’s nothing that compares to the feeling of taking care of her.”

“You should probably talk to her about that,” Chuck said, shifting in his chair to tuck his long legs up under himself. “And regardless of how either of us see it, it’s obvious that the job was taking it too far.”

David nodded. The way that Sage had looked at him after he’d sent what he thought was an innocuous text had left him absolutely fucking gutted. Hollow. Because Chuck was right: it didn’t matter how David had intended the gesture. To her, it had meant something completely different. Whether intentional or not, he’d hurt her. He’d damaged the life that they were building together. He’d stomped on the thing between them that was still tender and new.

And the thought of intentionally hurting Sage made him feel like he was going to vomit.

“There’s no right or wrong way for people to be together.” Tommy had wandered back into the room, beer in one hand and a bag of baby carrots in the other. “The way I see it, all that matters is that the people in the relationship understand the expectations and what needs the other is hoping to get met. And it’s up to each person to say what those needs are.”

David blinked, turning to stare at Chuck. “What the hell happened to Tommy?”

Chuck reached out and grabbed a carrot from the bag, crunching it between his teeth. After several loud chews, he responded. “Divorce has made him wise.” His blue eyes narrowed on David’s chest. “Also what the fuck is that shirt?”

David looked down at the t-shirt he’d borrowed from Sage and never returned. He spent a slightly embarrassing amount of time wearing the green shirt, but it was soft and fit him well and always made him smile.

“It’s Sage’s,” he said softly, rubbing a hand over his chest. Like maybe the motion would soothe the ache that had settled there.

“You look ridiculous,” Chuck said with a laugh, before his expression sobered. “Get out of here and go for a walk, or something. There’s no rush to figure it all out.”

David took a slow, ragged breath. “Fine. You’re right.”

“Come back for dinner,” Chuck called out as David walked toward the door, keys jangling in his pocket with every step, trying to ignore the mounting dread in his chest.

CHAPTER30

THE BRAVEST THING

SAGE

“Will you judge me if I pop the button on my shorts?”

Maggie arched a dark eyebrow at her from where she was wiping out glasses with a towel. “You’ll get no judgment from me.”

Sage reached down below the bar and slipped open the button of her jean shorts. “Fuck,” she sighed, feeling her stomach relax into the extra few inches of breathing room. “That feels good.”

“You’re drunk.”

Sage waved a hand in the general direction of her friend. “I know this.”

Maggie looked at her like she was a vaguely disappointing sandwich. “Are we gonna talk about it?”

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