Walking into the locker room for a quick shower before I head out, I pause as Coach yells out from his open office door, “Moreno, see me before you leave.”

I lift my head in acknowledgment. After I’m showered and changed, I stop in Coach’s office as requested.

“What’s up?” I slouch into the chair on the opposite side of his desk and grab two granola bars from my bag. These things are worthless. I’d need to eat like twelve to satisfy my hunger, but two is all I have left. Need to tell my mom, the saint who keeps our pantry stocked, to get something more substantial next time for snacks.

Coach stares down at his phone, a mixture of confusion and excitement in the way his mouth curves into a smile but his eyes scrunch together. “One second.”

I’m amused as he proceeds to make me fucking wait while he’s lost to whatever he’s got going on.

I give in and comment on his weird actions when the man actually snickers at the ping of an incoming message. “Sexting during office hours?”

It takes a moment before he lifts his head and meets my gaze. “Sorry, what?”

“Nothing. You wanted to see me?” I lift a hand for him to get to the point.

He sets the phone on the desk and then leans back in his chair. “Right. I want to switch things up a little bit on Sunday and have you up top of the zone instead of in the back. Shaw is still finding his place and we’re going to have to play the ball more aggressively if we want to rattle them.”

Makes sense. I’m taller and faster than the other options and Z is a beast down low.

“All right. Anything else?”

His phone pings again and he glances down before answering. “Yeah, what about local restaurant suggestions? Something nice but not too pretentious.”

I feel my left eyebrow arch up in question. “Team dinner?”

“Uhh. No.” He shakes his head. “Just thought you might know somewhere good. Since moving to Valley five years ago most of my dining out has included In-N-Out I’m afraid.”

“We talking restaurants of the romantic variety?”

The embarrassment that spreads across his features throws me off. Coach Daniels is not the kind of guy I expected to be looking for dating tips. “I said nice, not romantic.”

“When it comes to dining, those two things are synonymous.” I decide to put him out of his misery. “Araceli’s. It’s got great views, good menu, but it’s not over the top.”

“Araceli’s,” he repeats the name back slowly like he’s trying to remember it.

I toss the granola bar wrappers in the trash and pull my phone out. “I’m texting you the details. Shouldn’t need a reservation on a Thursday, but if you have any problems, just tell them you’re a friend and you want my table on the patio.”

“Your table on the patio?”

“I have a standing Thursday night reservation.”