Page 342 of Playing Dirty

---

That was the thing about Coach—he didn’t raise his voice because he didn’t need to. He just made everything feel unavoidable.

I wiped my face with my towel, breathing hard.

Luca came up beside me, quieter than usual.

“You’re off,” he said.

“I know.”

“That’s the first time you didn’t argue that.”

“Yeah.”

He studied me for a second.

“It’s her, isn’t it?”

I didn’t answer.

Not because I didn’t know.

Because I didn’t want it to be that simple.

Coach blew the whistle again.

“Reed. Again.”

I pushed off immediately.

But now it wasn’t just basketball anymore.

It was everything layered together.

NYC.

Pressure.

My father’s expectations I hadn’t answered in two days.

And Rowan.

Always Rowan.

ROWAN

Mia stopped me in the hallway outside Bennett’s office.

“You didn’t submit your revised draft,” she said.

“I know.”

“That’s not like you.”

I shrugged slightly. “I’m distracted.”

“That also isn’t like you.”

That part stung a little.

---