Page 21 of Courtside

IT WAS MEDIOCRE

DAVID

The minute David showed up back in Charleston, he’d been absorbed by the group of his college friends who’d stuck around after graduating. Chuck had been his roommate, and then Darius, Tommy, and Ford had all been on the basketball team with him. Additionally, there was Keaton, who’d been one of Chuck’s teammates on the swimming team.

It was more than a homecoming to be coaching at Southeastern. It was a return to his community.

And, since the minute he’d locked up his office for the weekend, David hadn’t stopped smiling.

They’d all gone to dinner together earlier: twelve men — the local guys and old teammates visiting from out of town — catching up on their families, spouses, and kids, and of course a healthy amount of reminiscing about the past.

Now they were heading into a dark bar where, according to the guys, the alumni from their time were gathering.

It was crowded, with a clinging heat hanging in the air from the bodies that filled every corner of the place. David was glad he’d gone with a short sleeved button up, as he was already sweating. Laughter and conversations almost entirely drowned out the music.

He followed the guys as they wove their way through the crowd toward the bar. David was always painfully aware of his size in environments like this; he tried to dodge as many people as he could, muttering a constant stream of apologies as he inevitably brushed against the bodies around him.

Finally, they made it to the bar.

He’d already had a beer with dinner, which meant whatever ordered would be his last drink of the night. Given that it sounded like the guys were planning to hang out for a while, he gambled and ordered a whiskey ginger, figuring he had enough time for the buzz to wear off before he needed to worry about making sure everyone made it home safely.

Once he had his drink, he almost immediately got sucked into a conversation with someone he vaguely recognized who wanted to congratulate him on his new job.

Time passed in a bit of a blur. It felt like he was having the same conversation over and over again:Hey, it’s so and so, remember me? What are you doing these days? You married? Got kids?

Finally he extracted from a conversation with a woman who had been particularly interested in his lack of a wife, and, while she was attractive, there was something about how she looked at him that made his skin crawl.

He beelined for the bathroom, letting out a relieved sigh when he saw that the line was for the women’s room. As he washed his hands, he glanced up at his reflection in the mirror.

He scowled at himself as he tugged his shirt down from where the fabric stuck to his stomach, silently cursing the extra layer of padding he couldn’t get rid of.

Aging was a pain in the ass.

He walked back out into the crowd, eyes catching a familiar face sitting at one of the tables.

Changing his course, he made his way over to the table. “Gus,” he called out as soon as he was within earshot, raising a hand in a wave. “Haven’t seen you in years, man.”

“Hughes!” Gus stood up, and David noticed then that he was sitting with a blonde woman whose back was to him. The bearded man pulled him into a back-slapping hug that David returned before stepping back. “How the hell are you?”

“I’m -” David started, only to promptly lose all memory of what words were when the blonde turned around and revealed a face that he definitely hadn’t been trying not to think about.

Goddamnitshe looked beautiful. Her hair hung loose, waving around her shoulders like she was a mermaid or something. Her dress was low cut and there was so much of her skin exposed that he felt like his brain hit a speed bump. Glancing down, he actually had to stop himself from groaning at the sight of the short dress revealing miles of tan, bare thighs.

His hand had been on that thigh before, only there had been a thick layer of denim in the way. He wanted, no,needed, to feel the real thing.

Suddenly, his brain decided to come back online, and he was painfully aware of the fact that he had not-at-all subtly been staring.

At Sage Fogerty.

Who he wasn’t allowed to stare at.

Goddamnit.

He turned back to Gus, who was looking at him with an expression that very clearly communicatedwhat the fuck are you doing?Because Gus and Sage had obviously been having a moment together, and he’d interrupted. Clearing his throat, David tried to salvage the situation. “Sorry man,” he mumbled, forcing a grin. “Had a few tonight.”

Gus, ever the good-natured, easy-going guy, waved off the apology. “Congrats on the coaching gig.”

“Thanks. It feels good to be back.”

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