Unknown - Driven_589066

court.

The smile fell away when she saw Dylan. She sucked in a quick breath and fortified herself as she walked over to where everyone was looking at a diagram

of a new play.

“Cat,” Dylan said with a smile and a nod.

“Coach,” Cat replied never taking her eyes off the diagram.

Suddenly Chaney knew who pissed in Catherine’s Wheaties. Oh boy.

Sitting on a locker-room bench, Cat was tying her sneakers and deep in thought when a hand on her shoulder almost launched her into orbit.

“Hey.”

Dylan’s voice was low and vibrant as it hovered in the still, humid air of the locker room, filling Cat with a warmth she was quick to quash. “Hi,” she relied,

her tone cool and clipped.

“Do you have a minute?”

“Actually,” she replied, making a show of looking at her watch, “I’ve got plans for this evening. Unless it’s about work, it’s going to have to wait.”

The warmth of Dylan’s hand and presence was withdrawn as the tall woman straightened. Her expression was carefully neutral, though Cat thought she

caught just the tiniest fleeting glimpse of pain in those remarkable eyes before it was immediately masked.

Or perhaps that was just wishful thinking on her part.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

And like that, Dylan was gone, and the pain Cat thought she saw in Dylan’s eyes settled instead around her own heart. With a heavy sigh, she lifted herself

from the bench, grabbed her duffle, and left the garishly painted locker-room, her mind a jumble of thoughts and emotions, none of them pleasant.

Chaney sat in the back booth of the restaurant, watching Cat pick at her pasta. Her friend had been quiet all night and the player knew something was

definitely wrong. While Cat Hodges was many things, quiet was not among them.

“Okay, you gonna tell me what’s wrong, or are we going to just sit here all night and listen to our hair grow?”

Cat looked up from her now tepid dish and tried to smile but failed miserably. She dropped her gaze back to her plate again, cheeks flushed with

embarrassment.

“C’mon, Cat, whatever it is, it can’t be that bad. Can it?” Many scenarios were running through her head, most of them having to do with the mega cold

shoulder Cat had given their coach all through practice. The attitude was very much unlike the woman she’d come to know, and it puzzled her, distracting

her enough to get called out by Herr Caulley and forced to do windsprints till her lungs threatened a dramatic exit through her mouth.

“Have you ever been in love?”

The question, from seemingly out of nowhere, so derailed Chaney’s train of thought that she almost choked on the water she’s sipping. It was only with the

greatest of difficulty that she managed to force the liquid down the right pipe, and the resulting prolonged silence caused Cat’s cheeks to flush again.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

“You didn’t pry,” Chaney forced out quickly, holding up a hand as she replaced her glass back on the table. “I just…wasn’t expecting the question is all.”

“Oh.” Cat’s voice was very small.

Chaney decided that “matter of fact” was probably the best approach. “Yeah,” she remarked casually, “I did the love thing once or twice. How come?”

Cat’s mouth worked soundlessly for several seconds, and her head dropped, tendrils of fine golden hair hiding her chagrinned features. “It’s….“she finally

managed, “…nothing.”

“Course it’s something, Shortchange,” Chaney replied, reaching over and laying a hand on Cat’s wrist. “You been acting like someone ran over your dog all

damn day. So…what is it? I won’t laugh at you or nothing. You know that.” A moment later. “You got girl troubles?”

Cat laughed. It wasn’t a happy sound, but it beat crying, she supposed. Especially in the middle of a crowded restaurant. “You…could say that.”

“What happened?” Chaney’s face went dead serious as she sat up straight in her chair, muscles tense. “Bitch cheat on you?”

Cat looked up, startled. “No! No, not at all.”

“Hit you?”

“No!! No. We, um, we just had a fight, that’s all. You know, yelling, stuff like that.”

Chaney’s face cleared. “A fight? Damn, girl, ain’t no one told you fighting’s good for a relationship?” She leered. “Especially the make-up sex part.”

Blushing to the roots of her hair, Cat buried her flaming face in her hands and groaned.

Squeezing the wrist beneath her hand, Chaney grinned, then sat back in her chair, picking up her glass and finishing her water in one healthy gulp. “This

your first serious relationship?” she asked after a time.

Cat looked back up at her, a rosy flush still faintly tinting her cheeks. “First? No. But it was the most serious.”

“Was? You tossing in the towel over a fight?” Chaney shook her head. “Musta been one hell of a row.”

“No. It—.” She sighed. “When you were, you know, with someone, did they ever want to do something that you were totally against? I mean completely?”

“You mean like screw someone else or do something illegal?”

“No. No, not like that. Just—something you didn’t agree with, and something that surprised you because you thought they wouldn’t agree with it either?”

She peeked at Chaney. “Am I making any sense here?”

“Yeah, yeah. Hang on, lemme think a minute.” Her face cleared. “I was going out with this dude once, during college. It had been kinda casual for a long

time, but then it started getting more serious, ya know? Anyway, it was getting close to spring break, and I was all about getting ready for the tourney and

shit. He wasn’t ever into b-ball, which is probably why we got along so well.”

“What happened?” Cat asked.

Chaney shrugged. “I figured he’d do the whole tourney thing, but he told me he’d gotten the deal of a lifetime, to go to Maui with his frat boys and their

sister house on spring break.” She chuckled, shaking her head over the memories. “Man, we fought like fuckin’ banshees over that, lemme clue you.”

“And then what?”

Chaney shrugged again. “We talked. Worked it out. Both of us had things that we would never get the chance to do again. So we did ‘em.”

“We did that,” Cat said.

“What? Talked?”

“Yea! She wouldn’t—she wouldn’t….” She stopped as her face drained of its color. “Fuck.”

“What?” Chaney asked, startled. “What’s wrong?”

Cat was silent for a few moments, playing the conversation with Dylan over in her head. “Jesus,” she whispered.

“What?” Chaney demanded. “What is it? Damnit, woman, you’re scaring me over here!”

“’You’re not saying anything. Why aren’t you saying anything?’”

“What? Cat, we need to get you some help. Quick. You’re going nutzo on me. I’ve been talking to you!”

“No. No. I just remembered. When D…” She stopped herself just in time. “When we had that fight. We weren’t talking. I was talking. Yelling. Screaming.

Storming off like some kid who just got told they couldn’t go to the prom. Damnit! How could I have been so damned stupid?!”

“Hey, man,” Chaney said softly, closing her large hand over Cat’s wrist gently. “It’s all cool. If she loves you, she’ll forgive you. Just talk to her.”

“That’s just it.” Cat’s sad gaze met her friend’s. “I don’t know if she loves me.”

“You don’t?”

“No. She’s never said.”

“Oh hell, Shortchange, you need the words? Does she act like she loves you?”

Cat didn’t even need to think about that one. “Yes. She does.”