Chapter Eight Hayden
CHAPTER EIGHT
HAYDEN
T wo hours later, it was clear as hell to me why I stayed away from Charlotte. Everything she did captivated me. Her intelligence and passion, the way she laughed at herself but refused to back down from her strengths. She had the confidence I wanted Gwen to have in this world.
A memory of Charlotte holding Gwen came to mind, the two of them sitting together and singing a song. Charlotte had volunteered to watch her so I could coach an away game, and when I walked in the next morning and found them all cuddled up, my knees almost gave out. My baby girl loved Charlotte, and seeing them like that made me think about what life could be like with her in it. That fantasy barged in unwarranted from time to time, but being around Charlotte brought it back to the top of my mind.
“Hop, hey, I rambled too much, didn’t I?” Charlotte scrunched her nose, shaking her head at herself. “I guess I didn’t need to get too into the details about the new scoreboard.”
“No, you’re fine.” I scrubbed my face with my free hand. “Thinking about Gwen.”
“You miss her.” Her face softened. “You’re such a good dad, Hayden. It’s one of my favorite things about you.” She nudged her knee against mine under the table. “I don’t have a lot of friends with children, but every time you speak about her, your face lights up.”
“She’s the best part of my life.”
“And she knows it. That’s wonderful.” She beamed at me, like my love for my daughter made her happy. When Charlotte looked at me like I personally hung the stars for her, it made my stomach ache with want, with the need to kiss her.
“Back to your idea,” I said, my voice scratchy. We were here to talk about the interview. I would do whatever I could to make sure Charlotte had the best chance of earning this. I lived and breathed the boys’ club circle. I hated it while knowing I benefited from the politics. One of my professional goals was to acknowledge the unfair practices and call them out when possible.
It was one of the many reasons I had hired a female assistant coach. Silvia Reyes was my second-in-command, someone I trusted implicitly and the person I’d risk my career for. Hiring her made shock waves in our small-town college community. But she was the best. End of story. She worked harder than anyone I had ever met and was game to weather the storm.
The best part about all of this? The guys on the team didn’t give a shit. They respected her knowledge of the game, how she spoke to them, and how she pushed them to be better athletes on and off the field. Respect is earned, not given.
Fuck, this got me fired up. I hired Silvia two years ago, and things have finally started to calm down, but hashing this out with Char reminded me of the shitstorm it had caused.
“Why do you want this?” I asked Charlotte.
She chewed inside her cheek as she stared at me. Her large doe eyes and long lashes were her best feature. They were windows to her soul, and when she looked at me like this, open and vulnerable, it made me want to move mountains for her.
“I want to cultivate a program for student athletes where they feel safe and where they grow and learn the value of friendship and sisterhood and teamwork. I want them to develop skills that’ll help them their entire lives. I want them to be proud to play and love coming to school. I want depth from middle school to senior year. I want to bring a championship to the community. I had so many coaches who made my life better, and I want to give back, do that for others. Mentor those who need it. Be a family for those who lack one. Plus I want to elevate female athletes because they matter just as much.” Her chest heaved, and red splotched her cheeks. “Wow, that was a messy answer.”
“It was passionate.” I fought the urge to grab her hand. “That was a great fucking answer, Char. It was unfiltered, sure, but that answer? We can work with it and make it into professional-speak.”
She furrowed her brows. “What do you mean?”
“If you’re going against this Chad Douche, you need to polish this so they can’t say you’re too young. Again, it’s bullshit and illegal, but it’s reality. If Chad is the chosen one and the bro, you need to be better than him in every way.”
Charlotte nodded. “Okay, I like this plan. Let’s do it right now. Do I do a PowerPoint? Write this all out? I’d love—”
“Hey,” I said, smiling at her. “First, take a breath and another drink.”
She blinked fast, her face lighting up with energy. Charlotte was like a bolt of lightning when she put her mind to something, and I always admired that about her. She learned to drive a stick shift out of pure determination. She earned a scholarship because she spent every waking second improving herself. Honestly, I don’t know how I didn’t even think to have Charlotte and Silvia talk. She’d be an incredible resource for her too.
Charlotte breathed in and out, long and slow, her lips forming a little O shape. They seemed redder, plumper. Shit. I cleared my throat, sipping my beer to cool down my thoughts. This was game time, nothing more.
“First lesson for you: perception is reality.”
“Um, okay? Are you a philosopher? What does that even mean?” She frowned. Tight lines formed around her eyes and mouth, and they looked so out of place.
Charlotte was one of the happiest people I knew, and even her face seemed to repel the thought of not smiling. The little line between her eyebrows was adorable. My finger twitched, the urge to trace the little indent overwhelmingly strong.
“The athletic director clearly has an agenda already. His perception of the role, of who should have it, is his reality. So in his mind, you’re too young. Chad is better, older.”
“Um, I hate this.”
“I know, but hold on. There’s a purpose to this.” I fought a smile.
“Are you sure? I thought this might be punishment for calling you daddy earlier, so you want to make me sweat.” She chuckled.
A flash of heat pounded through me. No. Not now.
“No. I’m trying to prepare you for how to win. Much like coaching, you have to scout the competition. If the AD has this notion already, how can you pick it apart? How can you change his perception of you? Is it experience? Is it familiarity with the parent groups? Is it contacts in the community? We figure out the root of his opinion, and then we exploit it.”
“Wow.” Charlotte ran a hand over her hair, her mouth slightly parted. “This is… I can’t believe I thought I could do this without you.”
“Char, hon, you absolutely could’ve. I just want to help give you a leg up.”
She eyed her watch and sighed. “This could take hours. We only have a few before they’re back and we get ready for dinner. What if I can’t get this all done by then?”
“I know.” This time I frowned. “Why are you worried?”
“Can we… could we meet again tomorrow about it?” Her mouth twisted in concern. Her eyes dimmed. “I can watch Gwen in payment! Or, uh, find something—”
“Whoa, hey.” This time I placed my hand on hers. Her soft skin contrasted with my rough, dry hand. “I offered to help you, and I don’t do anything half-assed. We can meet as often as it takes.”
“Are you sure? I’m needy and have so many questions. You might get annoyed, and if we’re trying to be friends—”
“You never annoy me,” I almost growled.
“That is not true.” Her eyes twinkled this time. “I recall a moment when you were twenty-one when you told me to stop talking.”
I knew exactly what she referenced. My face heated. “I had brought my girlfriend back from college, and you wouldn’t shut up about all the times I was an idiot.”
“Oh, I know.” A smug, sexy smile flittered across her face. “Just saying, I do have the ability to annoy you. It’s important to acknowledge when I’m right.”
“God, you’re annoying,” I teased.
She granted me another smile. “I’ve missed you, Hayden. I enjoyed being a part of your and Christian’s circle. I’m glad we ended up here together this weekend.”
Her words felt like a blanket wrapping around me and providing me warmth. She missed me. I missed her. Her accusations earlier were true. I did push her away, and I’ve lived with that regret for years. She might never know the real reasons for it, and I thought… maybe… somehow that we’d have a chance to talk about it.
“Me too,” I said. It could be the two drinks, the fire, or the way she stared at me, but my face tingled with heat. This moment seemed bigger than just us reconnecting, like whatever happened this weekend would change everything.
I might’ve been grumpy about driving hours away from my parents and daughter, but at least one good thing would come of this. Char and I were learning to be friends again. Even being around her just a short time reminded me of all the reasons I adored her, and if I could hide my attraction and not be an ass, we would be okay.
I just had to stop staring at her lips, wondering if they still tasted the same.