Page 16 of Courtside

He got a high-pitchedyipin response, and he wasted no time grabbing the leash and harness that hung beside his front door.

His days at the office weren’t too long in the summer, and he made a point to come home at lunch to let Daisy out to do her business and run around. She was still a puppy, and even though her legs were comically short, she had a lot of energy.

Daisy stilled once she realized he was trying to put on her harness, and as soon as he clipped the leash into place and set her on the ground, she darted off toward the door.

“Whoa there,” he said with a laugh, stashing a few dog bags in the pocket of his basketball shorts before following her out of his apartment. “Slow down, you crazy beast.”

Daisy gave him a look that could only be described as annoyed before resuming her charge toward the stairs. David locked the door behind them and picked up the pace, jogging to keep up.

It was only a minute walk from his unit to the complex’s dog park. It was empty at the moment, the air quiet and still around the wax myrtle trees that offered welcome shade.

As soon as they passed through the gate, he unclipped the leash and gave Daisy a scratch on the head before she darted off at a run, her long ears flopping behind her. There were park benches scattered around, but there was too much churning in David’s head to make sitting an option. Instead he walked slowly, his footsteps crunching the gravel path that circled the perimeter of the park. Daisy trotted in and out of view as she sniffed and explored.

He hadn’t initially wanted to come back to Charleston. His college years had been both the happiest and most challenging of his life, and there was a part of him that would have been happy to leave South Carolina in the past.

After graduating college, he’d moved home to Atlanta, needing the support of his family after what had happened his senior year.It’s okay to take some time, honey,his mom had told him over and over again. It had helped that he’d gotten an assistant coaching job at one of the larger local high schools with a dominant program. That job had been everything he’d ever wanted, and he’d been able to start to piece himself back together during the long hours spent under the harsh, white, fluorescent lights.

For six years he’d lived out of his childhood bedroom, eating dinner at the table with his parents like no time had passed since high school. But time had passed, and at some point he started scanning job postings for coaching positions at smaller colleges.

He’d moved to Chicago, fitting all of his belongings into the back of the ‘90 Bronco that he’d had since high school. The city was cold, the wind harsh, but he loved the pace of life there. While it never quite felt like home, he’d built a life there consisting of late night pizza, concerts, long lifting sessions at the Chicago Institute of Technology gym, and hours and hours spent building himself into the kind of coach he’d always dreamed of being.

But when Chuck, his best friend and college roommate, had sent him the posting for the head coaching position at Southeastern, he couldn’t stay away. No, this was the chance he’d been searching for in every practice and every game he’d coached since graduating and moving away.

It was the chance to do it right. The chance to be a coach who made a true difference in the lives of young men. Who took the time to see them — truly see them — and listen when they needed to talk.

He could be the kind of leader who wouldn’t miss the small stuff.

And it had always been a dream to coach at Southeastern. For years it was an idea that he nurtured in the quiet, late hours of the night, when he’d pull up the university website and check on how the team was doing. He wasn’t sure how it was possible to want something with every part of himself while simultaneously feeling terrified of the possibility of it coming to pass.

But it was here now. The dream was at his feet, ready and waiting for him. Shit, it was already happening around him: preseason meetings with his assistant, watching game film, crafting a plan for how he was going to approach this team.

It was here, whether or not he was ready.

“Daisy,” David called out, and his dog came trotting over. He quickly located where she’d done her business, picking up the small pile with the baggie and disposing of it in the provided trash can.

Only assholes didn’t clean up after their dogs.

Clipping the leash back into place, David started back toward his building. The afternoon shadows were growing longer, the heat just beginning to fade as the sun dipped behind the tall trees.

As he passed another unit, he thought he saw the flash of a long blonde ponytail, but when he turned around, there was nothing but the green backdrop of the trees and an empty staircase.

Damn blonde team managers with their high ponytails and thighs, already haunting him.

CHAPTER5

ROMANCING MISS FOGERTY

SAGE

The first month of school flew by.

While grad school was similar to undergrad in the overall quantity of essays and readings assigned each day, there was the additional expectation that not only did they need to be accurate and concise in their work, but they needed to demonstrate that they could apply what they were learning to case-studies based on real-world situations. It was engaging, and kept Sage actively reading ahead in her textbooks out of genuine interest.

Was she a little bit stressed that all of her classmates had very solidly committed to post-graduate plans and specific careers? Sure. Maybe a little bit.

But it would be fine.

The team manager job was actually helping keep the stress of her future at bay. Things wouldn’t really pick up until the season officially started in mid-October, but there were still responsibilities to help with the season preparation. So far, she’d had meetings with the equipment manager, a stout and severe woman named Felicity Armison (fondly called “Armie” by everyone in the athletic department), who commanded a large crew of student workers to help with the less-glamorous parts of the job — namely, laundry.

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