Page 31 of Courtside

“Totally fine,” he replied, forcing out a laugh as he took off his hat with one hand and pushed his hair back with the other. Tugging the hat back down on his head, he gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “All good.”

“You getting ready for the first game?”

A nervous laugh bubbled up from his chest before he could stop it.Get it together, David. “Yeah. Totally ready.” His voice was too high, and he felt sweat gathering on his palms.

Sage moved toward him, circling her own cart to stand right beside his. She was close enough that he caught a hint of her scent — flowers, maybe?

And then she reached out and gripped his wrist, her touch somehow both gentle and firm. Her skin was surprisingly cool against his. “You’re allowed to be nervous, you know.” Her voice was quiet, her words just for him.

In that moment, David could feel just how easy it would be to tell her everything. There was something about her steadiness that made him want to confess to her just how much the upcoming season was weighing on him. He wanted to tell her that he had five different half court traps that he couldn’t choose between, and how he couldn’t figure out how to get Jordan out of his own head. How he wanted Tim’s respect more than almost anything, but all he got from his assistant coach were head shakes and frowns.

He couldn’t explain how, but in that moment he knew, in his gut, that she would get it.

But he couldn’t do that to her. He wouldn’t burden her with his insecurities. They were his and his alone. It was his job to get his shit together and figure out how to lead the team. Sage was only there to satisfy a graduation requirement. That was all.

David took a step back, pulling away from Sage’s touch. Her fingers brushed the inside of his wrist as he moved, and for a moment he considered chasing her hand down and asking her to do it again. To touch him like that again.

“It’s all good,” he said, breaking the quiet between them.

Sage returned to her own cart, giving him a sad smile before she started to push past him. “Well don’t forget to take your own advice,” she said, nodding toward his groceries.

“What’s that?”

Her cheeks dimpled as she grinned at him, and it was such a bright expression that he could have sworn that it warmed the air surrounding her. She walked with the certainty of someone who knew where they were going, and just before she turned away at the end of the aisle, she glanced back. “Don’t forget the green stuff,” she called out, her voice teasing.

David laughed at that, and watching the space where she’d disappeared, he felt a brief stab of discomfort in his chest, knowing that there was probably some lucky guy out there who got to eat Sage Fogerty’s cooking.

* * *

David parked at the curb in front of Chuck’s house, grabbing an excitedly wriggling Daisy from her perch in the passenger seat and tucking her under one arm, while he reached down for the bag of groceries he’d brought with the other.

Sure, Chuck had said he didn’t need to bring anything, but David knew better than that.

Chuck lived in West Ashley, in an old residential neighborhood with smaller family homes nestled under the tall, spreading oaks. While Chuck was still single, he’d made it clear that he was looking to settle down, and he’d bought the house as soon as he’d landed the head coaching job for Southeastern’s swimming team.

David jogged up the paved steps and knocked on the door.

“Hughes!” Chuck opened the door wearing an old Southeastern t-shirt with the sleeves cut off and basketball shorts. “You look like absolute death, man.”

David grunted, unamused, and pushed past his friend into the living room. He placed Daisy on the floor, watching fondly as she scampered off in search of one of Chuck’s three cats. They tended to make themselves scarce whenever David brought Daisy over, but there had definitely been a few amusing games of chase when the dachshund managed to find them.

He went straight to the kitchen, placing the bag of groceries on the clean, white island. True to his word, Chuck had burger patties already made and had even taken the time to prepare toppings: lettuce, tomato, onion, and cheese were sliced and neatly plated.

Chuck had always been more put together than the rest of them, putting more thought into his wardrobe and surroundings than the other jocks David had come up with. As his roommate, David had been more than happy to let Chuck take the lead on what should go on the walls and which shirt he should wear when they’d gone out to parties in college.

Now, Chuck’s home reflected that same attention to detail, with black and white framed photographs of Texas, his home state, artfully arranged on the dark blue walls. Even his furniture was nice, with matching pillows and throw blankets draped over the top.

He heard Chuck’s bare feet on the wood floor behind him. “You okay?” his friend asked, stepping up behind David and clasping a hand on his shoulder.

David’s palms gripped at the edge of the countertop, which was at the perfect height for him to lean his weight forward and let his head hang down. He sighed, trying to figure out exactly how to articulate what he was feeling at that moment.

Words definitely weren’t his strong suit. He was more of adoingguy. But this was Chuck, so he had to at least try.

“I’m…” David began, pausing to swallow against the dryness of his mouth. “I’m worried.”

That was a start, at least.

Chuck walked around to the other side of the island, leaning back against the stainless steel fridge. “Worried about the season?”

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