Page 24 of False Start

When I said nothing and just held her unwavering stare, she sighed. “It’s mind-numbing. I need something with more. More spark. More…I don’t know. Autopilot just wasn’t working for me. It was either change careers or dabble in hacking.”

I laughed thinking of the troublemaker she’d been who’d been so full of talent and potential. Actually, she still was, it was just different now.

Everything was different.

“I’m kind of surprised you hadn’t dabbled in it already.”

“Who said I haven’t? Not that I’m going to confirm or deny said hacking to a cop.”

“My badge means nothing in Galloway Bay.”

“I’m never putting you in a compromising position again, Coach. So, on that front, no more about the hacking. I’m still working for the county, but by this time next year, I’ll be counseling patients. If you stick around, I’ll give you a discount.” She took a delicate sip of coffee like she was at some high tea complete with a pinky in the air while she called me out.

I snorted into my cup. “I’m not spilling my secrets to you.”

“But you have them?”

“Doesn’t everybody?” The hot coffee burned a trail down my throat. Normally I’d appreciate the burn and settle on the couch, only Lana decided to start probing me like a crew of extra-terrestrials shoving their technology in my every orifice.

Lana probably wouldn’t use lube either.

“Evasive.”

“I could use some lessons in combat before I visit you again.”

She snapped her fingers and pointed at me with a smug smile on her face. “See, I’m going to kill it at the whole therapy thing.”

“You look happy,” I said, my voice thick, the sound catching in my throat.

Honey hair framed her face, the long layers brushing her shoulders. Caramel eyes gleamed, the fire inside her lit once again, just fueled by different desires. They softened on me and I fidgeted in my seat.

“I am happy. But you don’t look so happy, Coach. What’s up?”

“Not a whole lot. Concerned about my sister,” I lied.

“You sure this doesn’t have something to do with the fact that you were up at Sid’s the other night watching Beautifully Brutal take on Girls of Fury? Or that you were seen talking with Beautifully Brutal’s best jammer at Banked Track later that night and then again the next day at The Shipwreck.”

The coffee betrayed me by skidding to a stop in my throat instead of sliding down. My body went with instinct and tried to force it, just to have it crawl into my sinuses, making my eyes water. I reached for a napkin just to slosh the hot brew over the lip of my mug and down my hand. “Christ.”

“Now don’t bring him into this,” she said with a cluck of her tongue. “So it’s true?”

“Yeah, but—”

“You’ve set your sights on Maisy,” she practically sang. “I’m kind of proud of you to be honest. She’s fucking hot too. I’m not into chicks, but hell, I’d slide a hand under that skirt. Well done, Coach.”

“I didn’t set my sights on her,” I said low and hard, hoping to convince her. Or me. Okay, more me, because that hot factor was a damn problem.

But worse, she possessed this eerie patience. Like when she waited me out at Banked Track. I took her inventory and she let me. She didn’t dissolve into hysterics or accuse me of mansplaining. She took my words, without surrendering to them or admitting I was right, and squirreled them away like pieces to a puzzle.

I had a feeling she did the same at The Shipwreck too. Just filing away clues until she could pull them all out and build a picture of me that might even take me by surprise.

The idea of her figuring me out before I figured out myself had my gut bottoming out in a free fall.

“Then why were you kissing her?”

“I just—wait, what? I wasn’t kissing her.” My ears burned and I knew they’d flamed red at the tips like a green teenage boy, for God’s sake.

Lana shrugged. “That’s not the word around town. Apparently, you had her in one hell of a kiss outside of her work. Had her bent over the railing on the side deck and everything. Ovaries around town are exploding with every retelling of the story.”

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