Page 11 of Courtside

David — no,Coach Hughes— looked even larger than she remembered, sitting in the chair with his long legs stretched out in front of him. She definitely didn’t let her eyes linger on his exposed forearms and the way his shirt stretched indecently across his chest.

She swallowed against the dryness in her throat, realizing the room was waiting for her response. “Coach Hughes should be fine,” she finally managed to croak out.

Get your shit together, Sage.

“Can I get you a water?” David was looking at her intently, and based on how his dark eyes flicked back and forth across her face, she suspected he was looking at her flushed cheeks.

She waved off the offer. “No, no thanks. I’ve got my own.” She reached down in her bag, grateful for the distraction, and pulled out her water bottle.

“Good,” he said, and it was like something loosened in his posture as he watched her unscrew the lid and take a long drink.

Willing her face to cool the fuck down, she screwed the lid back on, and returned the bottle to her bag.

“So,” Coach Dixon said. “You’re doing the five year Masters?”

Sage nodded. “Yes.” It was challenging to focus on the actual purpose of their meeting and not the presence of the man she’d fully intended to fuck. Ideally more than once.Focus, Sage.“I considered a few other programs, but ultimately decided I wanted to finish up here.”

“So what’s the endgame? Professional sports? Marketing?” Coach Dixon adjusted the silver-framed glasses that were perched on his nose.

She couldn’t help but wrinkle her nose at the last one. Why did everyone assume that a woman in sports was ultimately angling for a sales job? It brought her right back to her mom, who had taken to sending her at least one article a day about the incredible opportunities in social media marketing for sports. According to her — and the first two articles that Sage had read in an effort to be polite — there were plenty of jobs that not only paid well, but had almost endless upward mobility. And, most importantly to her mom, there werelotsof jobs in California.

But she had absolutely no interest in being the one with the phone filming content and capturing the players in candid, potentially viral moments. She didn’t want to be stuck in a press box or selling season tickets.

The terrifying truth was that she had absolutely no ideawhatshe wanted to do with her degree yet. All she knew was that she’d spent her whole life in the world of sports and she couldn’t imagine giving that up. How to make a career of it was what she was supposed to figure out this year.

“Still trying to figure that out,” she finally replied.

“You were supposed to work with women’s soccer, right?” David’s voice sent an actual shiver down her spine. That tiny hint of a drawl…fuck.

“I was, but I don’t have an extensive background with the sport, and they were able to find someone who does.” She shifted in her seat.

David leaned forward, elbows braced on the desk in front of him. “Well, our program is definitely at a different place than women’s soccer,” he began, “but I think that we’re building something different this year.”

There was a beat of silence. She looked between David and Coach Dixon, noticing that the older man looked nowhere near as confident as the new head coach.

Coach Dixon fixed his attention on her. “So, Miss Fogerty. What do you know about basketball?”

Her mouth opened before she had a chance to second guess herself. “More than I know about soccer.”

“Are you a fan?” David asked, his eyes appraising her with something new, something different.

“Something like that.”

“What kind of experience with the sport are we talking about?” Coach Dixon looked decidedly unimpressed by her so far.

“I played.” She looked down, noticing her fingers picking at the seam on the side of her slacks.She should have expected they’d ask this. Of course they would fucking ask her.

Stop it. Her fingers stilled.

Coach Dixon made a quiet huffing sound. “Were you any good?”

Sage couldn’t help but exhale a laugh at his question.

Had she been any good at the thing she’d devoted every waking moment of her life to? Had she been any good at the thing she sacrificed friendships and freedom for?

“I was decent,” she said.

“Points per game?” David asked.

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