Page 98 of Under the Lights

After practice? He just happened to finish his lift session and offered me a ride home.

At my games? “Just showing support for my girl,” he’d say with that infuriating grin. Still hadn’t managed to get him to stop calling me that.

It was fine, though. He was just being clingy. Puppy love, maybe. Eventually, he’d get bored — sick of my prickly ways, all my walls, and my tendency to pull away. This thing would burn out.

More than once I thought about trying to put an end to this, pushing him away, only to realize that deep down, it wasn’t what I wanted.

I told him not to catch feelings.

He just smirked and said, “Sure.”

But when I woke up to find my favorite drink — perfectly made — in the fridge after he left for morning practice, those damn butterflies always fluttered. They didn’t care about temporary.

And every time he came to one of my games, keeping his gaze locked on me, meeting mine whenever I looked up, I couldn’t help but light up inside.

And when I caught him staring at me, his eyes burning so intensely they might as well set me aflame, my chest ached.

And I convinced myself that was enough — that I’d been honest, that if he got hurt, it wasn’t on me. I let myself enjoy the way he showed up for me. Just a little.

Allowed myself to enjoy experiencing what it could be like to have that kind of support.

Even if it was just temporary.

Couldonly be temporary.

***

A crisp fall breeze blew stray wisps of hair, which had escaped my messy braids, into my face. Amidst a sea of suds, exuberant shrieks, and unbridled chaos, I basked in the gentle warmth of the late afternoon sun caressing my back.

It was still warm enough during the day to walk around in shorts, but once the sun set, it got cool really fast.

The girls’ volleyball team I coached was hosting a fundraiser car wash, and we’ve had a blast all day. I loved being able to do things like this with them and show them support. Water droplets streaked down my legs as I laughed.

Cupping my hands around my mouth, I shouted, “Kayla, that’s not how we treat the windshield wipers!”

The culprit dumped a sponge in the bucket with a loud splash, grinning from ear to ear.

This was the one part of my week when the world went quiet. Where no one expected me to be anything but who I already was.

“Coach, look! I made a rainbow in the soap!”

I snorted. “You’re Michelangelo, Lila. Just… don’t paint the headlights again, please.”

A prickling sensation in the back of my neck made me pause. I straightened up abruptly, my gaze sweeping from side to side as I tried to locate the source of this strange tingling feeling.

A ripple of energy went through the girls’ excited squeals.

“Oooooh, who’s that?”

“Coach Sierra, is that your boyfriend?”

“He’s tall! He looks like a Marvel hero.”

I whipped around just in time to see Dom striding across the lot with Jax and another football player in tow. They were all wearing practice shorts and exuding an air of smug confidence.

“Thought you ladies could use some muscle.” Dom flashed his everlasting smirk and proceeded to pull a sponge from Lila’s bucket, as if he’d been invited.

I narrowed my eyes. “Do you ever knock before barging into my life?”

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