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“What?”

“I mean, I’m going to try to forgive you. You’ll have to excuse me if I take a minute.”

My heart stops. Assistant Coach Masters is the childhood friend who fucking ghosted her? My hand grips the sour candy so hard it crunches in my palm. So, that’s what I interrupted after practice. No wonder she was so fucking upset. I have so many questions.

“I’ll take anything you can give me, JoyJoy.”

Footsteps sound at the other end of the aisle and I glance up to find Doug perusing the rows of chips. His attention falls on where Joy and Lane are talking and his face falls into a scowl. A fine sweat has broken out across my skin. If Doug speaks to me, Joy will know I’ve been here the whole time. Shit.

All I can do is watch as Doug steps further down the aisle, no longer looking at the snacks. Then, his attention falls on where I’m still crouched, my thighs starting to ache. His mouth opens, but he must read the panic on my face, because he closes it and turns away, picking up a pack of salt and vinegar chips.

The action catches Lane and Joy’s attention because they immediately turn and walk away. It’s all I can do not to fall backwards on my ass. I wait, listening until I hear Coach Masters over by the coffee counter, then stand with a wince.

Doug doesn’t even look at me as I pass, hightailing it for the door.

Stepping outside into the cool morning air, my shoulders sag. I’m not sure I’m loving this away thing quite so much anymore.

DOUG

The kids did okay. I always worry about competing after a morning spent traveling, but the team did me proud. We didn’t annihilate the other schools, but we scraped first place in over half the races, which means we won overall. Just. I’d have liked it to be by a bigger margin, but it’s a first place on paper and that’s all Elizabeth West and the board of Franklin West care about.

Leaning against the bar, I take a sip of my ice-cold beer and allow a little of the tension I’ve been carrying all day to slip from my shoulders. I’ve finally found a use for having an assistant coach. The lowerclassmen are all tucked up in their hotel rooms and Masters is on duty, making sure they don’t sneak out. It was always my least favorite part of the job, but now I can delegate it toLame. I smirk into my beer.

The upperclassmen can do what they want. I know Aldo’s gone to his sister’s house because I overheard him talking to Colton about it. We haven’t really spoken since my office. Nothing outside of training. I shouldn’t have let anything happen between us. It was stupid. But then, it was always stupid.

Drew took me out for drinks over Thanksgiving and apologized for trying to parent trap me. I grimace at the memory of that night. Well, what little memories I have. I remember going into Portland to Alesso’s. I remember ordering a shit ton of shots. There are vague flashes of dancing. Possibly kissing. I’m almost certain I didn’t hookup with anyone, though. I was way too drunk.

Shaking away the very clear memory of the raging hangover I’d suffered the rest of the weekend, I take another sip of my beer. It’s a nice bar. Not far from the hotel, it’s two stories with a balcony around the top level, looking down at a raised stage and dance floor below.

There must be live music on quite often judging by the set up, but there are no instruments on stage tonight. The posters on the wide pillars around the ground floor say someone called DJ Lurkstar will be here tonight. It’s probably why the place is so busy. I’ll leave before that happens, though. I’m just here for a couple of beers, not to party.

Turning on the barstool, I lean against the bar and take in the rapidly filling space. We’re right near the college that hosted the meet, so most of the crowd are students. I’m not sure when students started to look so damn young.

A short, skinny man with shoulder-length dark hair walks onto the stage with a microphone, and I swallow a groan.Shit. Is it starting already? I lift my beer, debating downing it.

“Is everyone having a good night so far?” the man asks.

Everyone cheers in response, and I roll my eyes.

“Who’s excited for DJ Lurkstar?”

The crowd screams loud enough for me to wince. Yep. Downing my beer.

“Well, he’ll be here later, so don’t go anywhere. But to get us warmed up, let’s welcome DJ Etsuko!”

I slam the empty bottle down on the bar and slide off my stool. Music fills the bar, but as I turn to leave, I glance at the stage and freeze as I find the captain of the women’s team behind the decks.

I blink, wondering if it’s just someone who looks similar. But no. It’s Joy. Her long dark hair is in a high ponytail, her eyes and lips shimmering with dark makeup. But she shines as she moves to the beat, flicking and pressing things on the decks before her. I’ve seen her triumphant when she wins a race, but this is something completely different.

Sinking back onto the barstool, I signal to the bartender and order another beer. She’s good. Really good. Did I know she was a DJ? I frown, thinking over the last few years. Maybe. I don’t really pay attention to the students outside the pool.

The crowd is loving it. She mixes songs together flawlessly, combining them in ways that have the crowd crying out as they flood the dance floor. It’s only eight o’clock but it doesn’t matter. She’s got them in the palm of her hand.

I go through two more beers, planning to leave after each one, but always staying. Before I know it, the man is back, announcing the arrival of DJ Lurkstar. The crowd cheers as Joy hands over the decks and I slip off my stool, winding around the outside of the crowd until I’m in front of her.

“Hey,” I say, smiling as her eyes widen. “Living a double life, are you?”

She pushes a fallen strand of sweat slicked hair behind her ear and smirks. “It’s not a secret. I’ve been DJing for years.”

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