"What the hell was that?"
No one answers.
"Hawthorne. Chandler. If I see anything like this again, you're both suspended. Clear?"
"Yes, Coach," I manage, tasting copper.
He storms off, muttering in a mix of English and Russian about having a team of children. Jake turns to me, his dark eyes assessing.
"Are you okay?"
I probe my jaw carefully. It's not broken, but it will bruise. My ribs scream with every breath, but nothing feels cracked.
"I'm fine, Jax."
"That was stupid."
"Probably."
"You planning to tell me what's going on? And don't say nothing, because that didn't look like nothing."
I exhale.
"I've not started yet, but I'm going to date Ivy, and Marcus has caught on."
He studies me for a long moment. "Is she worth it?"
The question catches me off guard. "What?"
"Dr. Chandler. Is she worth losing your best friend over?"
I think about Ivy's laugh, her brilliant mind. The way she looks at me like she can't take another breath without me. The texts from King that make her open up in ways she never does in person. The kiss that tasted like coming home.
"Yeah," I hear myself say. "She's worth every damn bit of it."
Jake nods slowly, like that's exactly what he expected.
"Then you better figure out how to fix this because a team divided doesn't win championships."
He walks away. Connor, who has been uncharacteristically quiet, follows him out. But although there's blood in my mouth, there's certainty in my chest that I want her, need her.
And I'm going to see her.
Now.
It takes a while to clean up until I look passable and then walk through the pain to Ivy's office tucked in the back of the facility. I creak the door of the converted office space open to find her hunched over her laptop, straight hair falling forward to hide her face and her signature oversized cardigan drowning her petite frame.
She's absolutely beautiful. Elegant. Captivating. And so many other things if you know how to look.
And I've learned how to look.
"Ivy."
She jumps, spinning in her chair. Those warm brown eyes widen when they see me. They land on my split lips, the bruise already forming on my jaw, the way I'm favoring my right side.
She stands and rushes toward me.
"What happened? Did you get hit during practice?"
