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Some things are worth the wait. You sure are something.
Ali glanced down at the chair which had been lowered to its max, at Cornell’s handwriting on the neon yellow sticky note, at the message he had written, an echo of what he had told her last year when they struggled to define what was going on between them.
She pulled the paper off the monitor. Smoothing it down on her desk, she smiled, trying to ignore the sadness when it hit her—he was looking for me everywhere.
“I heard you got in a fight with a phone pole and won.”
Ali jumped, placing a hand on her chest. “Jesus, Dwayne.”
Dwayne stood in the doorway. “It’s not the size of the dog in the fight, it’s the size of the fight in the dog. You’ve got a lot of fight in you for a Pomeranian.”
Ali swallowed, slowly unballing her fists. She forced a laugh. “Yeah, I pack a mean punch. Or just a heavy foot on the gas, I guess.”
Dwayne smiled. “You good?”
“Happy to be back. What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in class?” She tried to take a calming breath when Dwayne stepped into her office and sat on the couch.
“Had a test. Finished early. Aced it,” he said with a large grin before reaching over to the empty candy drawer.
“I um… I need to refill it, sorry,” Ali told him. “Beth’s going to catch me up. I hope you didn’t give her any trouble.”
“None,” Dwayne said, sitting back with a smile.
Ali studied Dwayne, how his massive frame seemed to take up the entire couch. She shifted uncomfortably in her own chair, trying to remind herself that this was Dwayne Davis. He might be one of the biggest on the team, but he was a big softy, gentle, easy—completely nonthreatening.
She swallowed. You thought that about Graham too.
And all Ali could focus on was the open door and how many steps she would need to take to get passed him if she had to.
Three. Or climb over the desk. She shifted her monitor to the right, so the view of the door of her office was no longer obstructed.
But suddenly, that door was flooding with people, with more young men, bigger, larger, and stronger than Ali would ever be.
“Guess who’s back, back again,” Marquis came in singing, followed by a band of his teammates.
“Hey! Ms. Whitaker!”
“How was vacation?”
Overwhelmed, Ali stayed in her seat, forcing a high five or two but pushing herself further into the firm cushion. She laughed nervously, nodded, and forced big smiles. But inside, her heart pounded, her pulse raced. And yet she couldn’t move, couldn’t tell all of them—with their big smiles and loud laughter—that she wanted them gone. So for ten minutes, Ali sat so tensely in her chair that her entire body began to ache.
Until Mowgli sauntered into her office and the players’ attention turned to the dog as he made his way around Ali’s desk to stick his head in her lap. She clung to his fur before her head drifted up at the sound of Cornell’s voice.
“All of you fools can’t possibly not have class in five minutes,” he said loudly. “You don’t need to make more work for Ms. Whitaker now that she’s back. Give her a minute to breathe.”
There were moans and groans as they stood or pushed off the wall as Cornell entered, holding a small vase of flowers.
“Smooth, Coach Crawford, real smooth,” Dwayne told him, patting Cornell on the back.
“Smooth is the offense I’ve got going. The only thing that would make it smoother is if you left the defense and became my running back. Let me know when you want to make the switch.”
Cornell watched them leave one by one before he walked in, placing the vase on her desk in the opening Ali created by moving her monitor. “I’ll tell them to give you some space.”
Ali ruffled the fur of Mowgli’s neck. “I told you, you didn’t need to get me flowers.”
“Who said they’re from me? They’re from Mowgli.”
Laughing, Ali nodded. “Well, in that case, I’ll keep them. Thanks, Mowgli.” The dog groaned happily as she rubbed his ears, and Ali felt herself relax along with him. “Actually, can he stay with me today?”
