Declan's POV
"What the hell is going on in here?" Coach Blackwell's voice sliced through the heavy silence like a whistle cutting across the field during practice.
I released Lyla's wrist right away, before anyone could start jumping to wild conclusions or spreading more rumors. She pulled back immediately, rubbing the spot where my fingers had been wrapped around her skin. I hadn't gripped her that hard at all, nowhere near enough to leave any kind of mark, but I still noticed the way she flexed her fingers slowly, testing the movement. It made something twist in my chest that I didn't want to think about too much.
Coach stood there at the bottom of the stairs, dressed in his usual Thornvale tracksuit that looked like it had seen better days. He held a steaming cup of coffee in one han
