The Fastest Way to Fall(49)

“Hey,” he said, without much enthusiasm.

I swallowed and turned back to face the fence line ahead.

“How’re things? Shame you had to cancel our plans the other night,” she said.

Wes didn’t really respond but nodded with a hm sound. “Little farther, Britta,” he said, glancing at his watch. “Kelsey, we’re working out. Can I catch up with you later?”

Kelsey.

Her cheerful expression fell. “Sure. I have a few more miles to go anyway.” She glanced around Wes, taking me in with an appraising look. She waved and sped up, calling over her shoulder, “Text me!”

I waited for him to say something, but he just encouraged me to keep going for another few minutes, picking up the pace. “Lengthen your stride . . . good. And remember to land on your mid foot, not your heel.” His tone was positive but professional, and our joking seemed to be over. “Lower your hands . . . yep. Just like that.”

I shifted from watching the fence line to watching the woman’s ponytail bob out of sight.





32





JAKE’S SHOT BOUNCED off the rim, and I cut left to retrieve it, ran to the other end of the court, and sank the winning shot. The ball whooshed through the net. It was one of the best sounds in the world, the ball going straight through. It almost competed with the sound of Britta’s little sigh when we’d hugged in the park, the slow intake of breath when I touched her. Almost. I’d tried time and time again to ignore the memory of that sound and the way it sent heat up my spine.

“That’s game!” Aaron clapped, and the other guys on the court joked with one another as we walked toward the benches. “Nice shot, Wes.”

“So close,” Jake muttered.

Aaron laughed and checked his phone. “Your definition of ‘close’ is creative. We were already up by like thirty points.”

Two of the other guys near us laughed, one of them clapping Jake on the shoulder before leaving the group. Jake continued, “We were just warming up.”

I fell onto the bench and took a gulp of water from my bottle. The next game had already started, the calls for the ball and playful jabs from the other group surrounding us again. “You’re right. The streak was imminent. You’ll get it next time.”

“Don’t coddle him, Wes. He has the money and gets to have that pretty face. We can remind him he sucks at basketball.”

Jake laughed and stretched his arms over his chest. “Wes has a pretty face, too.”

“Shit. I guess I’m the funny one.” Aaron checked his phone again and tapped out a text before tucking it in his pocket. “Hey, my better half just gifted me with the option to stay out.”

“I might suck at ball, but at least I’m not on a leash.” Jake playfully jabbed Aaron in the arm. The three of us walked toward the exit, waving to the other guys. “Do you need to ask permission to stay out late?”

Aaron rolled his eyes. “You know my wife and you know our kids. Do you know the shit I’d be in if I left her alone to do all the bedtime stuff herself with no notice?” We walked toward the parking lot, the evening air cool but not cold. It was a relief to not have to wear a coat anymore.

“You’re right,” Jake said. “She’d eviscerate you.”

“Exactly. I can’t believe you’re not letting Naya know.”

Jake’s laugh filled the space between us. “She’s out of town. Otherwise I would. I’m just as whipped as you.” He clicked the key fob and his trunk opened. They must have driven together, because Aaron threw his stuff in the back as well and motioned to the bar a couple blocks in the distance. “You up for a beer? You’re the lucky untethered one.”

I’d actually never seen two guys more enamored with or happy to be tethered to their partners. They were lucky. “Sure, why not?” Funny thing was, I’d had a moment where I considered texting Britta to let her know I wouldn’t be able to chat until later. It wasn’t a date or even anything planned, but we talked most nights. I’d ask her how her evening workout had gone, and we’d slowly fall into some random topic. I looked forward to it.

The sports bar wasn’t crowded, and we took a high-top table near the back where we could see the baseball game on TV. Jake poured beer from the pitcher we’d ordered. “How’s that program you’re working on together?”

“This guy came through,” Aaron said, handing me a glass. “The kids are going to love it.”

I shrugged. “It’s been cool.” I’d hired a student of Naya’s to help develop the curriculum in concert with the school. We weren’t even working with the kids yet and I loved it. It was like the feeling of coaching someone new when things clicked for them that first time. Between working on it and spending time with Britta, I almost felt like a new person compared to a few months earlier. Even dealing with my mom was—not easier, but I could manage it better. I still worried about Libby, but the panic I’d gotten used to felt more manageable, too. “Did I ever tell you I used to want to be a teacher?”

Jake leaned forward. “What made you change your mind?”

“The teaching program was hard to balance with football, and I needed the scholarship.” My exercise science degree had served me well so far, but working with this program, designing things for kids, it made me wonder if I’d made the right choice all those years before.