My own tears flowed.
“I think you should start your treatment now, even while we wait for the second opinion. The faster we fight, the better the chance, right?” I hated suggesting she stay in the hospital, but there wasn’t another choice.
“Okay,” she said weakly, almost like she’d already given up.
I looked around her room. “We need to get you a private room. Somewhere where Nova can hang her artwork, and the kids won’t worry about interrupting anyone else if they put another patient in here.”
“I don’t know how to tell them.”
I smiled softly. “I don’t think there’s an easy way. Cutter’s smart; he’s going to know something’s up when he comes home from practice and you’re not there. When my mom gets here, I’ll leave her with you, and I’ll go get the kids.”
Miri nodded.
“We’ve got this,” I whispered to her. “We’re the strongest team out there, right?”
She nodded again, but her eyes looked empty. I prayed Miri hadn’t given up the fight before she had even started.
Chapter 7
Weston
Jerome and I stood on the sideline, watching the boys run through their plays during their scrimmage. We allowed them to play basketball without the adults interrupting and telling them what to do or calling fouls. This was their time to work on their game-time skills and teamwork. While I tried to make sure every boy played in every game, there were times when some teammates didn’t play alongside the starting five. Scrimmaging gave me an opportunity to see the boys differently.
The buzzer sounded, and Cutter finished the play, even though his last two points wouldn’t count. Everyone huddled at center court, gathering around Jerome and me.
“Tomorrow night we have another tough one,” I said in the circle. “Each game from here on out is going to be a battle. Our undefeated record puts a target on our backs. Other teams want to beat us. It’s bragging rights. Each time we step out onto the court, we need to be at our best. If you’re not feeling it, there’s nothing wrong with saying so.” I paused and looked at each of the boys.
“Yes, Coach,” they all said.
“All right, bring it in. Timberwolves on three.” I counted down, and we all yelled. The boys ambled off toward the locker room, while Jerome and I started toward my office. The door to the gym openedand closed, grabbing my attention. I turned and saw her ... the woman who was at the game for Cutter last night. As much as I wanted to think she was there because we’d had some kind of crosscourt connection, I knew better.
With my best coach face in place, I walked toward her. “Can I help you?”
Immediately, she stuck her hand out. “I’m Antonia Bernardi, Cutter Vaughn’s aunt. Are you his coach?”
“That’s me, Weston Schmidt, and that’s Jerome Levy, my assistant.” I pointed toward Jerome, who stopped picking up the cones we had out to wave. “What can I do for you?”
“Is there a place we can talk?”
“Sure, my office is this way.”
I looked at Jerome and wondered if I should motion for him to join us or not. Selfishly, I wanted to sit in my cramped space with her. The instant attraction I’d felt last night was back, but tenfold. None of this made sense. Sure, she was beautiful, but so were a lot of women.
We entered my office, and I waited for her to cross the threshold before I closed the door behind her. She sat in the chair across from my desk and clasped her hands in her lap.
I sat across from her and inhaled sharply when my heart twisted. She wasn’t just beautiful.
Antonia was striking.
Her deep-brown, shoulder-length hair framed her face in loose waves, and though the fluorescent lighting wasn’t forgiving, she seemed to glow. Not in a way that came from makeup or careful grooming but from something deeper, something raw and untouchable. A quiet strength.
Then there were her wide-set hazel eyes, a mix of deep green and rich gold that shifted with the light. They were red-rimmed, shadowed with exhaustion. Even so, they held me captive. There was something unguarded about them, as if she wasn’t just looking at me, but throughme, like she was searching for something she couldn’t quite name. And for the first time in a long time, I wanted to be that something.
And her mouth.
Christ, her lips were full and looked velvety soft. They were slightly parted, as if she had a million words she wanted to say but didn’t know where to start. My gaze lingered there a second too long before I forced myself to meet her eyes again.
I cleared my throat and shook my mind clear. She took my cue, which I was thankful for because I had no idea how to proceed.
