Chapter 2 #2
We stood there for a moment—Anna watching me and Brooklyn staring off into space—and I had to wonder. If the varsity coach was there, why had Anna come to me?
As if she could read my mind, she glanced at her phone screen once more and said, “Silas said if anyone could fix this, it would be you. Because you’re really capable and stuff.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat and fought back the urge to wrap her in a hug.
And Silas too if he’d been here and wasn’t newly married.
The fact that Anna was willing to overlook, even momentarily, the beach incident, and give me a chance, was more than I could’ve hoped for.
And the fact that, apparently, Silas, only hours after learning I was here and he’d be my right-hand man, had encouraged her to come to me, was boggling.
Then again, Silas was a classy guy. Even if he had broken my heart, I could still admit that.
I bit back the grin that wanted to take over my face. “No worries, I got you. We’ll figure it out. We’ll make sure you ladies are ready for the game. I promise.” It was probably just a misunderstanding.
Anna slouched in relief and smiled.
“Let’s go see what’s going on.” I led them out of the front office. As we trudged down the hall, Anna and Brooklyn whispered to each other behind me. I wasn’t sure what they were saying, but the tone seemed hopeful. I’d take it.
I pushed open the door to the gym and the three of us stepped inside.
Coach Byrd, one of the twelfth-grade history teachers who I’d met for the first time a week ago, was indeed trying to coach both teams. My high heels clacked against the glossy polyurethane floor and most of the girls turned.
The bleachers to the left were pulled halfway out and it looked like the parents were beginning to trickle in for the meeting that I knew was scheduled to begin in a few minutes.
Coach Byrd peeked over his shoulder at me, then looked back at the girls and yelled, “Butterfly drills. JV this side.” He pointed across. “Varsity on the other. Jasmine and Ming, take charge.”
He stepped back to join me but continued watching the girls’ progress.
“Coach Whorley quit?” I asked.
“Yup.” The P popped. He shook his head. “And before you ask if I can coach both teams, I already tried last year and was told no by Alvarez.”
That had been my next question. “There were problems last season?”
His eyes were trained on the drill as he spoke to me.
“Whorley coached JV last year, and it was a nightmare. Same thing as now. No coaching, just wasting time. She only cares about the paycheck. The girls and their parents”—he waved toward the adults on the bleachers—“were extremely frustrated. But Whorley is the only teacher in the county besides me who knows anything about volleyball and no one else applied.” He shrugged.
“Halfway through the season, they hadn’t won a single set.
” He cocked an eyebrow. “Do you know what a set is?”
I nodded. “They play three sets every match. Whoever gets to twenty-five first wins a set.” One of my best friends in high school had been the captain of our varsity team. I’d been to some games.
He nodded, pleased. “Yeah, for JV it’s something like that.
Varsity plays best three out of five. Anyway, JV hadn’t won a single set, which is ridiculous.
They have talent, just no direction. So I told Alvarez I’d coach both.
” His jaw clenched. “He said cool, but I’d only get paid for coaching one team since we practice at the same time.
” He snorted. “That’s not right. Varsity football alone has five paid coaches.
There’s a lot that goes into coaching that doesn’t happen during practice.
Games, for one. Besides, I went to college like everyone else here.
I’m worth more than that. And I’m not talking just money.
” He rubbed a hand over his jaw. “But as a matter of principle, I told him to forget it. I thought with all the parent complaints, he’d try harder to find a better coach.
” His lips were pursed, disgusted. “Nope. Just kept Whorley.” He threw his hands up. “And now we have no JV coach at all.”
I scanned the moms and dads on the side.
Some were wearing looks of concern and I wondered if they’d witnessed Whorley’s adult temper tantrum.
“What about a parent? Could one of them do it?” These girls hadn’t made the team without their parents’ involvement and understanding of the sport.
My guess was that most had at least been in rec volleyball, if not club or travel, in the past. There had to be at least a couple of adults here that knew the game.
He shook his head. “Has to be a teacher or staff of Seddledowne School District per Virginia State High School rules, according to Alvarez.” His hands moved to his hips.
“But that’s not true. The next county over has a guy who’s coached for twenty years and he’s a logger.
They just won state. Alvarez is just stubborn.
Likes to throw his weight around. But he won’t listen to me. Trust me, I’ve tried.”
My lips twisted as I thought about what to do. Technically, this wasn’t my problem. But emotionally, as a principal who wanted to know these kids—to care about what they cared about—it completely was.
“I’ll try to talk to Alvarez.” Coach Byrd eyed me, and I could tell he was unconvinced that it would make a difference. They needed a solution. Now. So I lifted my hand like a schoolgirl ready to answer the question. “And I’ll help out for the time being.”
Byrd snapped around, facing me now. “You’ll coach JV?”
That’s not what I said. “I don’t know a ton about volleyball. I’m more of a soccer girl myself. But I could—” I was going to say fill in until we found someone.
A grin split his face. He slapped my back like I was one of the guys. “Great. Why don’t you stick around for the parent meeting? I’ll introduce you.” He glanced back at the players. “Good work, ladies. Shag ’em up!”
I grabbed his arm. “I will help. I do not have the time to coach this team by myself the entire season.” I widened my eyes. “I’m the principal.” In case he’d forgotten. It was probable since I was at least twenty years his junior.
He nodded, his excitement waning a bit. “Okay. Understood. We’ll take what we can get for now.”
As long as we were clear on that.
The girls scattered in all directions, scooping up balls and dropping them into the ball cart. To collect them as quickly as possible, a few girls popped one or two under their shirts, like a pregnant woman. I gulped as I walked toward the parents. I’d never coached a sport in my life.
And then I gulped again.
Because sitting there, in the middle of the group, was Silas’s super hot younger brother Holden.
The one I’d kissed right after Silas broke my heart.
And he was scrutinizing me with his honey-brown eyes.
I swear if a gaze could burn, he would’ve scorched two iris-sized holes right through me.
He leaned back and folded his arms across his chest, a slight smirk at the corners of his mouth.
I should’ve looked away, but he was wearing dark slacks and a light blue slim-fit business shirt that hugged his muscled chest just right.
I knew it was muscled because I’d run my hands all over it when I’d kissed him. And let me tell you, abs for days.
His dark blond hair was perfectly coiffed in the front as if he’d just walked out of the barbershop two minutes ago.
He had the chiseled jawline of an underwear model, and his eyebrow cocked, like, are you going to look away or what?
A muscle in his jaw pulsed, hinting irritation at our little interchange, but his lips looked kind of happy about it.
Either that or they’d like to take a bite out of me.
Heat prickled my cheeks, and I quickly sat on the front row, turning my back to him.
But my mind was ablaze, knowing he was in the same room.
My hands wouldn’t stop mangling each other.
Holden was…my friend. Or, he had been. I’d turned to him during Silas’s and my “reset.” What had been a moment of weakness on my part had morphed into nightly phone calls, The Office watch parties, and truth sessions that had pulled some of my darkest secrets out of obscurity.
Like how I was a disappointment to my mother for letting both of my younger sisters find husbands before me.
Or how I’d failed to claim the valedictorian spot in high school by two-tenths of a point.
Or how I couldn’t run for crap because my lungs seized, and I always ended up with my head between my knees, wheezing for air.
I told him things that would’ve made the polish peel right off my mother’s manicured nails.
“Put up your best front always,” Mom said on repeat.
“You never know when a man will look at you as something more.” And yet, Holden kept coming back every night for weeks.
Yeah, I’d kissed him out of desperation.
My heart had felt like it was on the edge of the world, about to drop off into a dark, bottomless abyss.
But something unexpected had happened during that kiss.
The way he’d touched me, gently but with a torrent of underlying desire.
How he’d looked at me between carefully placed pecks on my mouth like I was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
The patient slowness of the movement, like he’d stay there all night if that’s how long it took to make that kiss perfect.
The heat that had hit in ways it never had with any other guy.
How my heart had swollen so big I couldn’t take a full breath.
I wanted to fan myself just remembering it.
Hands down, it was the best kiss of my life. Not a runner-up in sight. Top of the medal stand, totally alone.
Until Silas showed up and made me feel like a cheap floozy.
And I’d played the part just how he wanted me to.
Taken all the blame and then turned, tail between my legs, and bolted for my motel room.
With weeks to reflect, I shouldn’t have done that.
Maybe I had kissed his brother, but he’d broken my heart. We were even.
I glanced back at Holden, whose massive biceps were now locked around adorable Anna, listening intently as she animatedly told him, I don’t know, probably about her first day of high school.
My chest tightened, and I exhaled. Good gosh, he was even more attractive when he was being sweet and interested in his niece.
My heart panged hard. If I was being honest, I missed him and his friendship. Achingly. He was smart, kind, and hilarious. And yes, I could’ve reached out. I could’ve apologized for going after Silas instead of standing firm next to him. I’d started to text him multiple times.
But I wasn’t going to.
Because the thing I’d had to remind myself hourly, no minutely, was this…
Holden was a big, fat player.
Silas had told me that, and Holden had admitted it in one of our first conversations.
He’d dated over a hundred girls. Well over.
To the point that he’d stopped counting.
But I felt confident in labeling him a serial dater.
So, no wonder the kiss had been so incredible.
He had a PhD in perfectly placed hands and the right amount of pressure needed to induce a moan, or how to use those warm eyes to elicit certain emotions…
But it hadn’t meant anything to him.
The entire reason I’d first gone out with Silas when he asked wasn’t because I was super attracted to him.
Even though I’d grown up in Wyoming, cowboys weren’t my type.
Nope. Players were. Good-looking, cocky ones, just like Holden.
In high school and college, I’d been na?ve enough to think I could tame a guy like that.
Had even brought one home to meet my family once.
But I’d realized after having my heart obliterated that maybe some girls were capable of conquering a ladies’ man—like my little sister Gabby—but I wasn’t one of them.
So, while Holden might be dreamy and swole—as I’d heard two teenage girls say today—and his rose petal lips might induce a full-body tremble, weaving an exhilarating spell around your heart—one thing was perfectly clear.
I needed to stay far, far away from Holden Dupree.