Cohen
The team bus is the perfect mix of battlefield and school field trip.
Derek is already asleep, headphones in, half a sandwich resting on his chest.
In front of him, Tayler has claimed two seats—one for himself, and, apparently, one for his biceps.
He’s staring out the window, headphones on, probably listening to something motivational likeEye of the Tigeror a powerlifting podcast.
“Blaze, I swear if you play reggaeton at seven in the morning again, I’m throwing you off this bus!” Harrison shouts toward Liam.
“Relax, Doc!” Liam fires back with his toothpaste-commercial smile. “We need rhythm, brother!”
“What we need is silence, idiot.”
Same old bickering.
I pop in one earbud but don’t play any music.
I just stare out the window, hands behind my head, watching fields, woods, and faded road signs pass by.
We’re headed to Lakewood.
A short away game—but an important one.
And for some reason the bus smells like liniment, coffee, and anxiety.
Liam pulls me out of my angel-shaped-and-maybe-too-sexy thoughts.
He’s chewing gum like it personally offended him.
“I’m scoring today,” he says, pointing at me.
“Yeah, Blaze. In your dreams.” I snort.
“First half, brother.”
“Sure. In your video game.”
From the back, someone—probably Javier—blasts theTed Lassotheme at full volume, and everyone cracks up while staring at Coach Heart.
He is… decidedlynotLasso.
But he’s damn good. I’ll give him that.
God, I missed this chaos.
Coach Heart doesn’t even glance up from his tablet.
“Less talking, more focus. Or I’ll make you run laps until the field begs for mercy.”
Instant silence. Obviously.
I lean my head against the window, phone in hand.
I shouldn’t look.
I shouldn’t text.
