Christy: I’m dying, Holden. I have no idea what I’m doing. The varsity coach just no-showed. He’s sick or something.
Alvarez was reading every word, practically straining his neck when I slid the phone to the opposite side of my body.
Me: It’s just one game. It’ll be okay. Hopefully, things will turn around right here.
Just then, the Eagles’ middle spiked on Anna. Anna jumped straight up, her eyes squeezed shut, terrified, but she slapped that ball back down, landing a kill on the other side. I nearly came up out of my seat, I cheered so loud. The stands exploded and her teammates surrounded her, slapping her on the back, shoulder, butt, wherever they could get their hands on her.
Dad sat up taller, grinning. “That’s our girl.” Mom relaxedslightly. I only wished we’d been videoing so Silas and Lemon could see later.
Christy kept her focus on the game, but her phone never left her hands, carefully placed in her lap like I was a literal lifeline. Which was fine. Mine never left my hand either.
Our girls came back with a vengeance, but it was too big a divide to close, and the set ended Eagles 25, Stallions 20. At least it wasn’t a blowout.
I stood and stretched, trying to pop my back. My phone buzzed.
Christy: Any chance you want to come hold my hand for the next set?
She followed that with a “gritting teeth” emoji.
I bit back a smile.
Me: Thought you’d never ask.
Her relief was visible from across the floor.
I leaned over to my parents. “Hey, I’m gonna go help coach.”
Dad smiled up at me. “Best idea all night.”
I gave Alvarez a, “See ya, man,” and bounded down the bleachers, leaving him slack-jawed at missing his chance. I didn’t cut across the floor but took my time tracing the perimeter of the court. There was a beautiful, off-limits blonde waiting for me. And she was looking at me like she’d been floating in the middle of the ocean on a driftwood raft lashed together with dried-up vines and I’d just pulled up in my million-dollar yacht.
Christy’s brown eyes burned into me as I walked up. “Hey,” was all she said. Women should not be allowed to wear leggings. It was just mean. At least when they looked as good as Christy. Her hair was pulled back into a high ponytail,showing off her flushed cheeks, possibly from the stress of the first set.
The same way they’d flushed when we kissed.
STOP.
“Hey.” I shoved my hands deep into my pockets.
Anna skipped over, her eyes dancing. “Uncle Holden, did you see my kill?”
I laid my hand out for our low five, sizzle fingers. “So sick.” I bumped her shoulder with mine. “Next time, try to keep your eyes open.”
She laughed and covered her face with her hands, embarrassed. “I know. I know.”
I grinned, not even trying to hide the pride bursting out of me.
Christy watched us, her lips turning up at the corners and her eyes bright. I ran a hand through the front of my hair and looked away.She’s just grateful you’re helping. That’s all.
The rest of Anna’s team was eyeing me, wondering, I’m sure, what I was doing there.
“He’s cute,” I heard one girl whisper behind me.
Pretty sure Christy heard it too because heat tickled the top of her ears. I might’ve preened a little. So yeah, maybe she was still in love with my brother. But I had some kind of effect on her and, not gonna lie, it felt good.
“All right, all right,” Christy motioned for them to gather ’round. “This is Anna’s uncle, Holden, and he’s going to help coach the rest of the game.”
They looked at me with expressions varying from curiosity to gratitude to downright suspicion.
