Page 224 of Worth the Trip

“Yeah what?”

“I’m gone.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“Go coach.”

“See how love made you hostile?”

“Go.”

He left laughing.

For the next forty minutes, the kids got everything I had. We moved the younger group through passing drills before setting the older ones up for defensive footwork. One boy kept dropping his shoulders before every directional change, telling the defender exactly where he planned to go.

I demonstrated once.

He repeated the mistake.

I brought him back beside me. “Your body telling the truth too early. Keep your shoulders neutral. Make him guess.”

He tried again.

Better.

“Again.”

By the fourth rep, he had it.

His face lit.

I slapped his hand. “See? Magic.”

He frowned. “You said it wasn’t magic.”

“Magic is what people call work they didn’t witness. You did the work.”

That grin followed him to the back of the line.

I was resetting cones when fingers touched my elbow.

I turned and temporarily forgot athletics existed.

Nolani stood beside me holding two bottles of water and a small, insulated bag. Heat had left a soft sheen across her skin, a few curls had escaped near her temples, and the Crème & Chill shirt tied at her waist had spent most of the morning interfering with my concentration from an unreasonable distance.

“Hershey.”

“Hi, baby.”

That damn word.

Every time.

I stared long enough for amusement to brighten her eyes.

“What?”

“Say it again.”