Page 126 of Courtside

David swallowed against the lump in his throat. “Yep.”

“Nervous?”

“Not at all,” David said, letting out a laugh that definitely was pitched higher than normal.Shit.

Tim chuckled. “Don’t be. You know she’s crazy about you.”

David grunted. “I wouldn’t say that. It’s more like I’m the lucky guy whose presence she tolerates.”

“You’re smarter than that, Hughes.”

David shrugged, but he hoped Tim was right.

Once practice was wrapped up, David climbed into his car, flipping on his music as he drove from campus over the river. He rolled the windows down, letting the slight cooling of the air as summer faded to autumn blow against his face.

He navigated the crowded streets until he came to Wagener Terrace, pulling out his phone and following the directions to Classical Academy of Charleston.

The school was nestled under tall trees, surrounded by groomed green fields. David followed a sidewalk toward the metal-sided gymnasium that was around the back of the main building. Even as he approached the door, he could hear the bright shriek of a whistle and the hollow bouncing of basketballs.

He pushed open the heavy metal door. The gymnasium was about as bare-bones as a space could be and still technically be considered a regulation court. The floor was vinyl tile that had seen better days, and the nets that hung from the two baskets were frayed and hanging on by a thread.

Wooden bleachers were pushed back against one of the walls, and a few folding metal chairs along the sideline were covered in discarded hoodies and gym bags.

And there, standing at center court with her hands on her hips and a whistle tucked into the corner of her mouth, was Sage Fogerty.

Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail — one much shorter than it had been just yesterday when he’d last seen her — and something pleasant thrummed in his chest when he saw that she was wearing one of his old crew neck sweatshirts.

“Hey,” she called out, her voice commanding and loud enough to fill the entire room. “We’re doing that again. I know that all of you want to be shooting threes out there like Steph Curry, but until you can make fifty lay-ups in a minute, you’ve got no business doing anything else.”

The players — a scraggly bunch of high school boys who looked tiny in comparison to the college players he’d just left behind — hung onto her every word like she was the general of their army.

As soon as she blew her whistle they jumped into action, dividing into two groups and attacking the drill with a clumsy but earnest enthusiasm that made David smile.

He hung back until they finished, watching with absolute awe and affection as Sage coached, as she balanced encouragement with gentle criticism of their technique. How she commended effort and grit, while ignoring the teenage show-boating.

Her competence was breathtaking.

They wrapped up with a huddle, and then the kids dispersed to the sideline. David started walking out across the court, unwilling to wait any longer to hold his woman in his arms.

“Who’s that guy?” David glanced over at one of the players, a tiny kid with a buzz cut and sticks for legs.

“Coach,” another boy called out. “This guy your boyfriend or somethin’?”

Sage glanced up, that perfect twist to her mouth revealing the dimple in her pink cheeks as her eyes met his. Her green eyes danced with a giddy kind of happiness that felt like an achievement every time he saw it.

“Or something,” she said, moving in David’s direction. As she approached him, her smile grew. “What are you doing here?”

David opened his mouth to respond, but one of the kids shouted before he had a chance to speak.

“Does he know what a baller you are, Coach?”

David couldn’t hold back his low chuckle as Sage cocked a brow at him. “I should probably remind him,” she said, her voice soft enough that the players couldn’t hear. Looking over David’s shoulder, her eyes narrowed. “You boys get out of here. I don’t want any emails from teachers about late homework. And eat your veggies tonight!”

Her command was met with a chorus of ‘Yes ma’am’s and‘Later, Coach’s. David watched the fond smile teasing her mouth as she shook her head at them. “A bunch of children,” she murmured, but he could hear the softness in her voice. Looking back at David, she poked him in the chest. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, but what are you doing here?”

David felt the nervousness that had churned in his gut for the past week rear its head again. But he forced himself to breathe, looking Sage in the eye and finding reassurance there that her presence never failed to provide. “I want to show you something,” he said, reaching out and taking one of her hands in his. “If you’re okay with that.”

Curiosity sparked in her eyes, but she offered him an easy smile. “Of course,” she replied.

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