Page 117 of Courtside

She loved it when he looked at her like that.

He pushed up to his feet, and her mouth watered as she watched the flex of his quads as he straightened. Steam already filtered out from the gap above the shower door. David reached out and pulled the door open.

Sage climbed in, stepping under the wide spray. The water was hot enough that it smarted perfectly against her skin. She felt David’s body behind her, the barely-there brush of him as he circled around her.

They stood there with the water falling between them, their naked skin speckled with droplets. David’s dark hair was plastered down on his forehead, and a few pieces curved around his ears.

“Can I wash your hair?”

Sage looked up at him, more than a little bit perplexed by the offering. “You don’t have to,” she said, hoping to reassure him.

His mouth twitched up into a smile. “I want to.”

Shrugging, Sage nodded. She couldn’t imagine the appeal of doing something so mundane for someone else.

And then his strong hands pulled her directly under the stream of hot water, and a steady finger on her chin tilted her head back. His fingers threaded through her long hair, andohhhh shit. That felt really fucking good.

Her eyes must have fallen shut at some point, because she heard the click of a bottle cap and then the sweet smell of jasmine filled the shower. David’s fingers were just rough enough against her scalp, scratching and applying the perfect amount of pressure.

“I’m never washing my own hair again,” she said with a sigh.

David’s chuckle was low. “I think I can work with that,” he murmured. He rinsed her hair with the same attentiveness before applying conditioner.

He pulled her away from the direct flow of the water, and when his hands brushed over her shoulders, they were slicked with soap. “Sage,” he began, his voice graveled. “When I texted Michael, I never thought —” He cut himself off, and she opened her eyes to see him shaking his head. He ran his soapy hands over her stomach, caressing her skin like it was his job to cherish her. “I was thinking about the help that I got along the way. How my college coach made a call to get me my first coaching gig in Atlanta. And I just thought I could do that for you — help get you in the door. Because you’re going to be incredible, Sage. You’re going to be an amazing coach, and I never would have sent that text if I didn’t believe that.”

“I appreciate you saying that,” Sage said softly, “and I hear where you were coming from with the job, but I’m not going to take it. I know that I’m being stubborn about it, but I said no, David. I said no and you did it anyway.”

David’s eyes closed and he shook his head. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, the words heavy with emotion. After a moment he seemed to collect himself and he knelt down in front of her, hands kneading into her thighs. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

Her hands found their way into his wet hair. “Look at me,” she asked, tugging gently on the dark locks. When his face tilted up, a smile spread across her face unbidden, an involuntary reaction to seeing David Hughes on his knees before her. “You screwed up. Just like I screwed up months ago when I disappeared on you. We’re still getting to know each other; of course shit like this is going to happen. And I forgive you. I forgive you because there have been a million little moments that have shown me the man that you are. And not being with you?” Sage shook her head, smiling so fondly at this incredible man. This kind, caring man who made a mistake. “Not being with you fucking sucks, David.”

His laugh was ragged. He stood up, and Sage glanced down at the bottle of body wash he held in one large hand.

Her mouth dropped open, her gaze darting between the green bottle and David’s confused expression.

“No way.”

“What?”

“No fucking way do you use Irish Spring.”

David held up the bottle. “Yes? Is there something wrong with it?” His mouth pulled down into a frown as he turned the bottle around to look at the back. “I mean, I guess it’s not organic, but I’ve never —”

Loud laughter burst from Sage’s chest, so consuming that she threw her head back even as she wrapped her arms around his naked torso.

“Why is my soap so goddamn funny?”

“I just,” Sage gasped, struggling to draw in air.Was she actually crying?Yep. She was laughing so hard that she was crying like a madwoman. “I had this whole thing about only hooking up with men because they used grown-up soap,” she said, and then another wave of laughter overtook her. Once she regained her composure, she pointed at the bottle. “Unlike the college boys, who all used Irish Spring.”

David looked incredulous. “What? Everyone uses Irish Spring.”

Sage grinned at him. “They really don’t.”

“My dad uses Irish Spring,” David protested, but she could see amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes. “I’m calling the guys as soon as we’re out of the shower.”

“You’re going to have to wait,” Sage said, pressing her wet body against his.

He looked down at her. “Oh yeah?”

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