Page 23 of False Start

Never again.

And maneuvering with an electric wheelchair through the unpredictable coastal snow and ice was precarious at best.

Normally Lilith drove through and scoped this out for me, but a bit of the crushing guilt filling my chest relaxed seeing it with my own eyes.

Lana rolled through the door with ease, no slowing down to make sure she didn’t scuff the edges.

“You got a new chair. Slides right through. Nice.”

Lana snorted and stopped short, tossed me a look over her shoulder, and rolled her eyes again like she used to all time from her position on the track a decade ago. “Please, like you didn’t know I got a new chair.”

“How would I know?”

“Because you bought it, Moneybags.”

“Wasn’t me.” I followed her into the customized kitchen with low granite countertops and modified appliances, everything designed with her independent living in mind. The builders had made every single surface reachable and usable for her, and judging by the onions, fresh garlic, and root veggies in wire racks along the wall, she didn’t leave it just for show.

She was making the best of her life now which should make me happy, if only it didn’t come with a swift punch of how unfair it was that she even had to.

She rolled to the fridge and pulled out heavy cream while I jammed my hands in my pockets and fought the urge to jump in and help. A totally unfamiliar sensation for me, because if this was derby and I were coaching, I wouldn’t be trying to take over anything. I’d be putting each player through their paces, making them do it on their own, over and over, pain and frustration layered over more pain and frustration until they figured it out.

They called me Coach Hard-Ass behind my back and they were right. I wasn’t their friend. I didn’t want to hear about their bruises, exhaustion, or aches and pains. If it didn’t affect their ability to play, who cared? Anyone who took the track with skates on their feet had them.

As for the social shit and comradery? Shitty friends and turbulent love lives…they’d better fucking not go there.

She handed me a steaming cup just the way I like it. A splash of cream, no sugar. “You’re full of shit.”

“How the hell did you know it was me?” Not that it qualified me for the moneybags status she tossed my way. If anything, it left my savings a whole lot lighter, to a point I wasn’t exactly comfortable. But then, I didn’t deserve to be.

“You told me when you brought it up. You’re a bad actor, Coach. You’re not one for small talk. Grunts, judgment, and a wide-berth requirement are more your style. Just the fact that you mentioned it told me you felt awkward about it. So you figured if you bring it up, you can deflect the attention and credit. Not exactly complex.”

“So what I’m getting is that I’m an unapproachable, predictable prick headed for permanent hermit status. I don’t think I like this new degree you’re earning.”

“I’m sure you don’t. Now come here.” She crooked her finger at me, one of the very few people in this world who could without earning permanent disdain.

I leaned down, the fact that she had to ask me to a painful reminder of the damage I could do.

Pinching my sweatshirt, she tugged me in close, and pressed a kiss on my cheek. “Thank you, you crusty asshole. I love it.”

“You’re welcome.”

With a firm shove of her fingertips on my forehead, she pushed me away. “Now stop buying me shit.”

“Never.”

“I googled the price and almost pooped.”

Sinking into the couch next to her, I rested my elbows on my knees and breathed in the coffee before taking my first sip. “Patti has everyone talking about shit in this town.”

“Patti is the best damn influence on us all. Leave her alone. Too bad I can’t get my parents in Banked Track to soak up some of her wisdom.”

“They have a right to how they feel.”

“It’s been ten years since the accident. They’re letting it eat up precious time that should be spent living.” She paused, the silence hanging in the air between us. “Kind of like you are.”

Ahhh, and there was the right hook. “So tell me, what happened to computer programming?”

She shook her head and laughed. “Wow, I’ve practically got whiplash from the subject change.”

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