Page 72 of Courtside

The second she became aware of him, it was like every single layer of warmth and self-assuredness she’d built up around herself was stripped away in an instant, leaving her naked and bare.

She’d gained weight since he’d last seen her, and she felt the extra mass on her body like it was strangling her, painfully aware of how her thighs strained against the fabric of her slacks and how broad her shoulders were. Her hair was up in a ponytail —he’d always hated it like that.

The rational part of her brain was there, screaming for her to stop and think andjust fucking ignore him, but she couldn’t. She couldn't seem to remember how to be the person she'd become when confronted with the man who'd shaped how she used to be.

And, of course, David was watching her. Watching her more than he should. But she couldn’t handle him right now, not when she was barely handling herself. She’d missed plays. Missed assists and turnovers as she tried — and failed — to focus.

When halftime came around, she was surprised to see that they were ahead by five. She’d been so lost in her head that she’d barely noticed the court in front of her.

Trailing after the team as they walked to the locker room, she felt the looming presence of David walking silently beside her. Something about him being there reassured her. Made her feel stronger than she actually was.

But then she heard the click of dress shoes against the stone floors approaching, and she felt her muscles seize, tension filling her entire body as an unmistakable scent hit her.

She’d bought him a bottle of Hugo Boss cologne before she understood what a gift like that meant. Especially a gift like that from a fifteen-year-old to her coach.

He approached on her left, pacing himself so that he could walk alongside her.

She hated how familiar he was. She even recognized the jacket he wore — a heathered charcoal gray with silver buttons. He’d worn it when they qualified for Nationals her sophomore year. He was still barely taller than her, and his eyes were still just as blue as they’d always been.

“Sage,” he said softly, under his breath.

Sweat gathered on her back and all that she could do was keep walking. Maybe if she ignored him he would —

“Please. Let’s talk after the game.”

She felt him move away, only then realizing she’d been holding her breath. She let out a shaking exhale, shaking her head like maybe it was all a nightmare that she could escape.

But it wasn’t a dream.

Halftime passed in a haze as she avoided the concerned glances David kept shooting at her, and then she was back on the bench doing it all again.

* * *

They won.

She should be excited and celebrating with the team. This win clenched their spot in the conference tournament, defying the expectations everyone had after seeing them play at the beginning of the season.

But she felt nothing, while simultaneously holding back a tidal wave of every feeling she’d shoved down and walked away from in the past five years that threatened to drown her at any moment.

Sage forced herself through the motions: retrieving the book, cleaning up the bench, gathering their balls, making sure the guys packed their uniforms and warm ups before heading out to the bus.

She was carrying the ball bag down the hall when Evan found her.

“Sage,” he said again, and she felt her sanity fraying, splintering, the hours of being locked in a heightened state of anxiety finally catching up with her. She was minutes away from collapsing.

“Talk to me,” Evan pressed. His voice was too sweet, too gentle, and as he continued, she felt herself speeding up, trying to put more space between them. “It’s been forever, sweetheart. Just hear me out.” He reached out and curled a hand around the back of her neck, his fingers pressing against her pulse point, just like he used to. “I’ve missed you.”

Her skin was cold. She jerked away from him, even though there was a sliver of herself that urged her to stay. “Evan, please,” she said, hating how small her voice had become.

“Sage.”

Relief warred with humiliation at the sound of David’s voice. She kept herself still as he walked up, coming to a stop beside her.

“Coach,” David said, his voice cold as he addressed Evan. Turning to Sage, his expression softened. “Everything okay?”

Evan laughed, his wide, bright smile so charming that Sage had to forgive her younger self for seeing what she thought she did in him. “We’re all good,” Evan said, all nonchalance and ease. “Sage and I know each other from California.” His eyes turned to look at her, and she forgot how to breathe. “She was such a promising player. One of the best I’ve ever coached.”

She was going to pass out. Her eyes burned, but even now she couldn’t pretend like a compliment from Evan didn’t feel like oxygen after hours trapped underwater. His praise waseverything.

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