"Told you you could." The pleased look on his face this time is enough to singe. The heat of it swarms low in my belly.
"You're a wizard!"
A snort. "Come on. Do it again."
So I do. Boom. Then again. Crack. Each time, he lets me giggle and celebrate, finally laughing. Out loud. With a whole smile.With teeth.
I have never been so happy in my whole life. Nor have my arms ever worked so hard. Out of breath and sweaty, I flop to the ground on my back.
"Okay, Coach. I think that's it."
Grass crunches under his shoes as he approaches, blotting out the lights when he's standing over me. He's huge. From this vantage, he looks like a Viking god. "What was that, six pitches?"
I grab a nearby ball and try to nail him with it, but he catches it easily. And then he does something that surprises me.
He sits down next to me.
"I really was worried I'm hopeless." I say as he stretches out, angled toward me, his ankles crossed, palms in the grass behind him.
"Hopeless?" He chuffs a laugh. "You're the sunshiniest person I've ever met. Even if you never hit or catch a ball in your life, I suspect you'll still have hope."
My cheeks flush deep and hot. "Thank you," I manage, "But I actually meant--"
"I know what you meant," he says. "Anyway, you'll get the hang of it. You just proved you can do it all."
"Thanks to you."
"That was all you, Molly."
With a fierce fluttering in my chest at the sound of my name on his lips, I roll over onto my side and prop my head on my hand. "You're like a coaching savant."
"Pft. Just been doing this forever, that's all. And don't praise me too hard--you'll forget all this by tomorrow. But every time I remind you, it'll get easier to lock in."
"You just might save me from embarrassing myself in front of the team after all."
He looks like he wants to say something, but he never does.
My gaze drops to the lush, green grass and run my fingers through it, the blades tickling my palm and fingers. He's a good coach. A great coach. He's been looking out for me since I first came to town. Sitting here with him is so easy. Surrounded by lush green turf and loamy earth with him, I feel safe. Some sortof nerve rises in me. Maybe it was my success hitting the ball. Maybe it's just him. But I'm feeling confident. Bold. Maybe a little reckless.
He was so eager to coach me with this that I wonder, would he be willing to coach me through anything else?
"I was thinking," I start, still watching my hand as it runs through the grass. "Since you're such a great coach, maybe you could coach me through something else."
"Oh yeah? No guarantees I'll be good at anything else."
"I doubt that," I say, laughing. "I need a drinking coach."
A pause. "A…drinking coach."
"Mhmm. I've never been drunk before, and I think it's time. I've been wanting to for a while now but…well, nobody knows, and it's not exactly something you can just blurt out."
"Don't you think Cass would be better for something like that?" He sounds uncomfortable, and I curse myself. Maybe I crossed the line. But I've already come this far. Might as well go all the way.
"Maybe, but she has a weekend without Cricket, and I don't want to burden her. Plus, I feel like she'd egg me on."
He chuckles. "Probably. Shelby? Jessa?"
"I don't really know them well enough."
