31. Sabs #2
She divides us into two groups, then we start doing drills.
“We have a big game coming up. Keep it moving!” Coach rallies us along as the nonstop, hour-long practice progresses, strolling around and making suggestions to improve our techniques.
“More power behind that, Carmen! If you flick your wrist like this,” Coach shows her with her right hand,” “you’ll angle it better. Yep, you’ve got it.”
By the end of practice, I’m physically tired yet completely re-energized, confident about what’s coming next.
After giving the team a brief pep talk, Coach Rider speeds off, stopping by the cupcake station on her way. She’s a big fan of Delilah’s baking like everyone else.
“Make sure to grab a cupcake on your way out,” I remind the team. I don’t need to tell them twice. They’re already buzzing around the box like bees flocking to a honeypot.
Drax saunters down to greet me, tucking a loose hair behind my ear. “You looked good out there.”
“Thanks.” I grin. “Hopefully, we’re doing enough to win our last game. There’s no way we can let Knottsville win again.”
“I’m sure they won’t, if you have anything to do with it.” He peers over to survey the crumbs left in the box as everyone else clears out of the room. “Hey! Where did all the cupcakes go?”
“You snooze, you lose,” I tell him, scooping up frosting from my cupcake with my finger.
“After working out, you need more than just sugar,” he says, grabbing my wrist then putting my finger to his mouth to lick it clean, stealing all my frosting. I can only gasp as he nods in approval. “That’s pretty good.” He looks down at what’s left of my treat. “Is that red velvet?”
I stuff the rest of it into my mouth, my cheeks bulging. Anything to distract me from the flames of desire now shooting through me. My team may have left the room, but I’m not about to start a steamy make out session in case Coach bursts in again.
Drax smirks. “Bitten off more than you can chew?”
Wanting to be a brat, I make sure I swallow it all down, then say, “Never.”
After our active morning, gym bags slung over our shoulders, Drax and I meander onto Main Street hand-in-hand. It’s lined with a variety of food trucks, delicious smells wafting through the air, ranging from rich ginger and garlic noodles to mouthwatering barbecue.
“What would you like?” Drax asks.
“There’s so much to choose from…” My eyes instantly snap to the taco truck.
Ignoring my arguments, Drax buys the most expensive things on the menu: jackfruit carnitas tacos, loaded nachos, and some Mexican bean soup. We carry our feast over to a quieter spot, finding a picnic bench underneath a tree.
While we eat, I wave at a few people who pass, spotting Nia and Corbin walking together.
They’re distributing fliers for FemSoc’s next event.
Behind them I see Ren hurrying along, followed by a younger group of students who are firing questions at him about a book.
From what Faye told me, he’s helping out in a literature class, and his students can be a bit overeager.
“This is delicious,” I groan at the perfect blend of spicy filling coated with zingy cilantro and guac. “Did you ever think this would be our lives? The two of us in the same pack?”
“I hoped that we’d be together, but never like this. It’s…” His plump lips tilt into a smile. “Better than I hoped.”
I snag a nacho while he’s busy giving me googly eyes.
“I was just about to eat that one!”
“It’s not my fault you’re getting distracted, checking me out.” I flip my hair over my shoulder before holding out a piece of quesadilla. “Try this.”
He takes a big bite. “Yep, that’s amazing.”
Rook—one of Drax’s security guard colleagues—passes us and raises his arm in a wave. Drax nods back, but his scent changes, pushing his food container away from him.
“Won’t Orin let you return to work soon?” I frown, assuming that’s what’s bugging him. “What happened was an accident. You weren’t on the right medication.”
“It still doesn’t make what I did right.
” Drax hangs his head. “And it was irresponsible of me not to seek proper help in the first place. Orin made the right call, taking me off the team, but…” He heaves a heavy sigh.
“I’m hoping that we’ll be able to work something out eventually. Maybe next month.”
“I’m sure he’ll make it happen.” I try to sound upbeat. “You’re a natural protector. Just like your dad.”
Drax’s expression brightens again. I know he’s always looked up to his dad as they have a special relationship.
“Speaking of family.” I stick out my tongue and cross my eyes as my cell phone starts ringing in the middle of the table between us, the caller ID informing me that it’s my mom. “Ugh. I still need to tell them what’s happened.”
“Maybe you should tell them now?” Drax suggests while I eye the buzzing phone like a bomb that’s about to detonate.
“Right now?” I gape at him. “Here? While we’re relaxing, surrounded by a Mexican feast?”
He shrugs. “Rip off the Band-Aid.”
“I’ll do it next time.” I purposely let the call go to voicemail. “I promise.”
Unfortunately, my cell starts ringing again, the quesadilla in my stomach suddenly souring. My mom is just as tenacious as me.
“You better get that.” Drax nods at it. “You promised, remember?”
“Damn you,” I grumble before answering with a voice that sounds much more cheerful than I feel. “Hey, Mom! How’s it going?”
“Sabrina Maverick!” She only uses my full name when she’s mad at or annoyed with me.
“Have you fallen off the face of the earth over the last few weeks? You’ve been ignoring my calls, and you’ve been sending one-line texts.
The only reason I know you’re still alive and not being held hostage somewhere is because of your brother and Faye. ”
“Sorry.” My chest tightens. Admittedly, I have been avoiding her, but that felt easier than lying. “I’ve been… busy.”
“You’ve called me every two days since you started at SVU.” Her irritation melts into concern. “What’s going on? I may not be able to see you, but I know you.”
“It’s a… long story.”
Drax gives me a supportive nod in a ‘this is your moment’ kind of way.
“Tell her,” he whispers.
I smack his arm, though the impact jars my hand more than his. Damn his muscles. He snickers then bites into a taco shell with a crunch.
“Ouch,” I groan, shaking my wrist.
“Are you hurt?” Mom’s voice goes up an octave.
“Now you’re really worrying me. Stop lugging that, Gene!
” I rush to pull the phone away from my ear when she shouts at my dad.
“Sorry, you know what they’re like.” Fortunately, her voice has softened again.
“He’s dragging a barrel across the floor.
They go from one random hobby to the next.
After their last batch of homebrew all but destroyed the carpet in the basement, I thought they’d have learned their lesson, but apparently not. ”
“It sounds like you’re dealing with a lot there.” I jump on the opportunity to end our conversation. “Maybe we should talk another time.”
“Nuh-uh. I’m not letting you wriggle your way out of answering my questions, Sabrina,” she huffs. “Your voice has that weird tone. The one you use where you’re hiding something.”
“It does not!”