His eyes go wide as my fist makes contact with his stomach. “I think that’s enough of that. Don’t touch Finley.”
“Finley?!” Larsen says, his gaze darting between her face and mine.
Coach shakes her head. “Laps, Larsen.”
“It’s break!”
“You can’t call me Finley. You can call me Coach Blake.”
“Or…” Larsen leads.
“Coach Blake,” she deadpans, her humor hidden where only I can see it.
“Come on! I don’t think you understand how instrumental Li and I were in making sure you didn’t get fired.”
Li sighs, like he’s exhausted by Larsen’s existence. Which I understand. “I do not want to be included in this.”
“But you were such an important part of the team,” Larsen tells Li. “He was, Coach. Really.”
Finley folds her arms, amusement tugging at the corner of her lips, even as she tries to smother it. It’s the kind of expression that makes my brain short-circuit. Especially when I remember that I’m allowed to like it now.
“How did you even know I was back?” she asks.
Oh, fuck.
“Kane texted me,” Larsen boasts, the look on his face suggesting Finley might be an idiot for not putting that together.
“Kane… texted you?”
“Yeah. He texted Li and me as soon as he found out you weren’t getting fired. We’re friends like that.”
“Not right away,” I tell Finley, giving her a wink. God forbid she thinks I was texting Larsen while kissing her senseless on the couch.
“Holy fuck! Did you just see that, Li? Did you? He winked at her! And he still has his balls. Holy shit. Honestly, I still wasn’t completely sure any of this was real. I thought Kane might’ve been making it all up just to fuck with me. But it’s real!”
I look at Finley. “Is it, though?”
“Seems pretty far-fetched. Me? Date a player? Terrible decision.”
“Haha,” Larsen huffed as Li laughs next to him. “I know it’s real.”
“Okay.” I drag the word out like I’m unconvinced.
“Sure,” Finley replies, her neutral expression matching mine.
“I’m regretting all the exclamation points I used when I told the team chat that you weren’t fired. I want to take them back. You don’t deserve all of them. One at most. Okay, maybe two.”
Finley rubs her forehead. “Why are you texting the group chat about this, Larsen?”
“Because everyone was concerned that you were going to get fired. I let them know you weren’t. You know, those guys would literally die for you. I mean, did you know they’re the ones who told White to hire you? Like staged a coup or something.”
“Larsen!” Li groans, trying to cut his friend off.
“They, what?” Finley asks.
“Don’t really know,” Larsen muses. “Wasn’t here. But Li was.”
Li tilts his head back, looking at the ceiling like it might offer him guidance. Finally, he says, “We just had a talk with White, put our names behind yours when they were deciding who to hire. They would’ve hired you even if we hadn’t said anything, but we heard what people were saying about men not wanting to be coached by a female. And, well, we wanted to make sure we were clear that it wasn’t true. You were the best. You made us better. That’s all we said.”
