Love on the Sidelines: A Small Town Sports Romcom

17. Ava

“Run!” I yell. “Look for the open pass!”

I’m back to having all the tension in my chest as we start the first game of the tournament.

We made it through the elite camp and the six girls who attended it said it was worth going. Which means I’ll need to remember to get the younger girls on the list for next year.

We’re playing one of the better teams in this first tournament and our girls are holding their own. I just hope Lena doesn’t break down in the net. She’s had at least thirty shots rocketed her way and has saved all but two.

The game continues, and my stomach is all tied up in knots with the score being this close. And then the final whistle blows and we’ve lost by one goal.

“What a game, ladies,” I say, feeling sad as well as trying to keep the girls from hanging their heads at such a hard-fought game.

We do our usual post-game wrap up and head back to the house. We won’t have to play again until tomorrow, which gives us time to regroup and get ready for the next day of games.

Once I’ve taken a shower after the sweaty day on the sidelines, I walk to the kitchen for a snack. The nice thing about having Whitney and Marsha as the team moms is they always know what snacks everyone likes, except it looks like they haven’t been able to make the full grocery run yet.

Marsha is cutting an apple. I wash one off and dry it, waiting for her to be done with the apple cutter.

“This place is so nice,” I say, glancing around the large room. Of course, my typical budget doesn’t have a lot of extra cash, so I’ve usually only been to the houses that are not as clean as this. “Where did you find it?”

“Charlie mentioned he had a close friend who lived here. The guy is out of town, but he offered to let us stay here.”

I freeze, making sure I fully process all her words. Didn’t Charlie tell me he didn’t pay for this place? Then again, he’s technically not telling a lie if we didn’t have to pay anything.

Charlie walks by and I say, “You have a friend who lives here?”

“Yeah,” he says, nonchalantly. With his hands tucked into the pockets of his pants, he’s upping the hotness factor another degree.

“Well, we need to pay him something. Even if it’s for the cleaning after,” I say. There’s got to be money in our team account since we’ve paid for next to nothing in the last two weeks.

“That’s unnecessary,” Charlie says, looking up at Emily with a strange expression. “Good work today, ladies. It was so close.”

I can’t decide if he’s trying to get me to change the subject or not.

“That was a good team. We stayed right there with them. I can’t complain.”

Charlie slaps the counter and smiles. “I need to catch up on a few phone calls. Let me know if I can help with food.”

He walks out of the room and I mistakenly watch him go.

“Will you help me cut up some vegetables?” Whitney asks, rinsing off a bundle of carrots. I’m curious why she didn’t just buy the baby carrots that are already the perfect size, but we find a peeler and I get to work.

“What’s on the menu for tonight?” I ask, trying to get the hang of this peeler. It won’t peel easily and I’m trying different pressure points to fix that.

I catch Whitney giving Marsha a quick glance and then she goes back to slicing up some celery.

“We were thinking about ordering in for tonight. I haven’t gotten a grocery order just yet.” Whitney walks over to a notepad she has and tears out a grocery list. “Is there anything you want to add to it?”

“I’ll look at it when I’m done peeling. How did we get all this stuff if you haven”t been to the grocery store?”

Marsha says, “The owner of the house had a few things delivered before we got here.”

Last night. Usually Whitney has an order put in for the grocery stores by the time we’ve landed and we just pick it up on the way to the hotel. Maybe she’s just not used to preparing us for life in a house for a week.

“So, what do you think?” Marsha asks, giving me a bump with her hip.

“About what? I’m thinking we need to play Carly on defense tomorrow?—”

“That isn’t what I was asking about,” Marsha says, taking out the lettuce from the fridge. “I’m talking about the only guy in this house.”

With a quick glance around the room, I don’t see Emily, which is a good thing. “He’s a nice guy.”

“That’s all you have to say?” Whitney asks. “The guy has paid at least twenty thousand dollars this summer for our team.”

My eyes go wide as I think about that. With all the flights, hotels, car rentals, and food, that seems on the low end.

“He said he’s doing it for Emily’s happiness, but as long as she’s on the team, that would be enough, right? Why donate that much?” I ask. One of the orange peels hits the floor on the other side of the garbage can.

Marsha and Whitney chuckle and give themselves a knowing look. “Probably to write it off on taxes,” Whitney says.

To be honest, I haven’t had to do in-depth taxes in my life. Most of my low earnings have been easy to input into a computer or just have my grandmother’s accountant neighbor help me with that. Best thirty dollars I’ve ever spent.

“You should show some interest. You’d be set for life.”

That only brings up the memories from my past. My parents said that several times before they left me at Gran’s.

“The guy works a lot. If I ever start dating someone who could turn into more, I’d hope that hanging out with me would be valuable and not a burden.” Just like my parents.

Marsha’s expression sobers. “I get that. But you have to start somewhere, Ava. It’s easy to run away from the things that scare us, but sometimes we have to take the chance.”

I finish with the carrot and move onto the next. “Were you nervous when you started dating your husbands?”

Marsha chuckles. “I pursued him. He was terrified of me at first, but I eventually won him over.” Sounds about right for Marsha.

“My husband asked me out every day for a year until I finally said yes. We got into a fender bender on the way to the restaurant. He handled it like a champ, and I realized I couldn’t imagine my life without him.”

Why am I even giving a thought to Charlie liking me? He’s just a nice guy with a lot of money who probably just needs some time away from the gossiping gals in the kitchen.

The problem is that I’m actually weighing the possibilities. There shouldn’t even be a sliver of hope that something would work out between us, especially given our history.

And yet, I can’t stop thinking about him. How sweet he was on the flight here. How he’s done little things to help the girls. He’s tried to support me, usually through food.

I laugh, thinking about the several times he’s brought lunch or the soup to help me feel better. Maybe the way to this girl’s heart is through her stomach.