Page 13 of Beneath the Stands (Sugarlake 2)

“Two points if they score. Unless—” He puts up a finger and walks to an area marked with painter’s tape. “Unless they’re outside of this area, right here. You see this painted arch?” His arm stretches as he gestures, and I force myself not to inventory every dip and curve of his bicep.

I divert my gaze. “Mmhm.”

“That’s the three-point arc. If they shoot from outside this arch then the basket’s three points, not two.”

“Uh-huh.” I frown, chewing on the end of my pen.

He blows out a breath and runs his fingers through his hair. “Yeah, I didn’t mean to go into any of that today. I really just want to focus on the actual court itself. Once you get that down, we’ll get into owning the paint.”

My face scrunches. “Own the paint? That doesn’t even make sense.”

He smiles. “It will.”

Class is over for the day. It’s six p.m. and I am so ready for a long bath and a night of binge-watching The Real Housewives. My hand is cramping from all the notes I’ve taken, most of them from my lesson with Eli. My brain is still jumbled from all the “lines.” Mid-court lines, free-throw lines, sidelines, baselines, and center circles.

Who knew those shapes on the high school gym floor actually meant somethin’?

I’ll never admit it out loud, but Eli’s a great teacher and he’ll be a phenomenal coach. The Florida Coast Stingrays are lucky to have him. I can’t imagine loving anything the way he loves the game. It bleeds through in every word he speaks, every action he takes, making it impossible not to feel his passion.

Plus, he’ll be a nice decoration to the sidelines during the games. He is an exceptional specimen.

I send up a quick thanks to Mrs. Carson—may she rest in peace—for creating such a masterpiece. Now if only his personality could match that perfect face.

I’m snapped out of my thoughts when my phone vibrates with a text from Lee. About damn time. Lee will put off calling me for weeks if it means she doesn’t have to hear me bitch about her choices.

Like not tellin’ me her brother was at FCU.

She grew up living a pretty charmed, sheltered life. Innocent in comparison to mine, but we balanced each other out. Still do. The yin to my yang. She was always full of sparkle and sunshine, until a douchebag boy moved to town and stole her light. Life slapped her silly and she still hasn’t fully recovered.

But I’ll take a sad Lee over a catatonic one.

My anger at Eli re-emerges as I think about everything Lee’s had to go through without him.

Lee: It’s been more than a day and I don’t see your big booty anywhere in town. Guess you’re all talk, huh?

Me: Oh, the threat is still good. I’ve just been busy dealing with YOUR DAMN BROTHER at my school. What the hell, Lee?

Lee: Oh, did he get the job there? Last I heard, he was only interviewing. Sorry, I didn’t think you’d care!

My eyebrows furrow, wondering why she doesn’t know. It seems like a big piece of information, and while I know Eli hasn’t been back in years, I also know they talk on the phone once a month.

I roll my eyes, reminding myself that I don’t actually care, and toss my phone on my nightstand. Laughter trickles in from the hallway, so I go to investigate, finding Sabrina and Jeremy sitting on the couch, giggling.

I put my hands on my hips. “What’s so funny, y’all? And how come I wasn’t invited to the party?”

Jeremy shrugs. “You stormed through here like hellfire and damnation were chasin’ after you.”

My lips twitch at his poor attempt at a southern accent. “Cute.”

“How’d your first day go?” Sabrina asks.

I walk over, nudging Jeremy’s leg to scooch him over. He doesn’t move, so I plop down on his lap. His arms come around my waist and I sigh, leaning into him. “It went surprisingly well, all things considered.”

“I still can’t believe you know Elliot Carson. That’s so wild.” Jeremy’s chomping at the bit to meet him. He’s a little starstruck, which is annoying.

“He’s an asshole.”

“He’s one of the best point guards I’ve ever seen play the game. It’s a shame what happened to him.” Jeremy sighs.

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