Chapter 5
The sun was barely peeking over the horizon as Haddie stepped onto her half of the football (and today soccer) field with her clipboard in hand, a smile plastered on her face.
She breathed in the crisp morning air, reveling in the excitement that filled her chest. Soccer camp had always been her favorite lead-up to the start of school when she was a teen, and now she had the opportunity to instill that same excitement in her own team.
Although it didn’t escape her that her zeal this morning at the apartment might have been a tad over the top.
But she wasn’t sure how to act in front of Levi after what felt like a weirdly intimate evening the night before even though neither stepped foot out of their own room after the bed assembly that concluded with Levi accidentally straddling her.
They just needed to find their rhythm, and if that rhythm meant Haddie skedaddling before Levi had a chance to drink his morning coffee so she wouldn’t think about that accidental straddle every time she looked at him, so be it.
“All right, team!” Haddie clapped her hands together, catching the attention of her players as they ambled onto the field, not quite as bright-eyed as their coach.
“I’m Coach Martin, and while I want to get to know each and every one of you today, let’s start with a warm-up and show ’em what we’re made of!
Stretch out and gimme four laps around the track! ”
Despite several yawns and a few groans at being asked to run a mile first thing in the morning, Haddie’s team hit the track and did as they were asked.
When she dropped her clipboard on the bench and joined them, she was met with a few raised brows, a few whoops and claps, and even a shout of, “Coach Martin is for real!”
This was a much better start than the whole peanut butter incident.
Ugh. She knew they’d eventually learn the less curated sides of each other’s personalities, but the key word here was eventually.
Not morning one! She hadn’t anticipated transitioning so quickly from sexy stranger at a bar who stole his Toblerone to woman who can’t eat without smearing food all over her face like a toddler.
Haddie averted her eyes as they passed the boys’ coach taking roll on the other end of the field.
It was hard enough trying to navigate how to act around Levi now that they lived together and apparently watched late-night television together as well.
But she hadn’t anticipated coaching on the field beside him in addition to teaching in the same district.
For all intents and purposes, they’d gone from complete and total strangers without even know each other’s names to basically spending every waking minute together.
And…in her case…every not-so-waking minute.
How long had she been sleeping on their video chat before he finally ended it? And was she snoring? At least Levi had been nice enough not to mention it.
Mon dieu, she thought to herself, then picked up speed. “Who’s going to beat me to the finish line?” she cried, looking over at her shoulder as she pulled ahead of her entire team.
“Smoke her!” one girl cried. “We can’t let some old lady show us up!”
Old? Haddie’s inner voice screamed. OLD? If these young women thought barely thirty-one was old, they were in for a rude awakening in the not-too-distant future.
Haddie only had one choice. She had to win. So she broke into a sprint as they hit lap two, and from there, she thought about nothing other than her breathing, putting one foot in front of another, and making sure she maintained the lead until lap four came to a close.
She crossed the finish line at least a half a minute before anyone else and found herself greeted with applause, whistles, and whoops from the entire boys’ soccer team and their coach.
Haddie slowed to a backward jog as she watched her own team, one by one, stream in behind her. “Any one of you athletes want to call me old again?” she challenged, ignoring the stitch in her side and the burn in her lungs that came from forgoing her own warm-up.
Her team members answered her with belabored breaths and hands pressed against their knees as they tried to collect themselves.
She wasn’t sure who made the original comment, but judging by the way one of her athletes stared daggers at her with arms crossed, her pinched brows fighting against the pull of her tight, dark French braids, Haddie had a guess.
“That was pretty savage, Coach Martin,” Levi mused, striding up beside her. “And impressive,” he added. “I barely made it through roll call on my roster before you clocked an entire mile.”
Haddie swallowed, trying to lubricate her throat enough to speak since her water bottle was all the way over on the bench, and she seemed to be stuck in a game of chicken with the girl in French braids, neither daring to break eye contact first.
“I either really impressed them,” she finally replied. “Or just made eighteen new enemies.”
Levi laughed. “Good thing you still have the better part of three hours to figure it out.” He nudged her shoulder with his own. “I’ll take the south end of the field,” he told her, nodding toward the opposite end of where they stood.
Haddie squinted as she noticed one lone member of Levi’s team who had not joined the rest to gawk at the old lady racing a pack of teens. He dribbled a soccer ball between his feet, occasionally bringing it up to volley from one knee to the other.
“Who’s that?” she asked.
“According to my roster, he’s a senior named Billy McMannus, but all I got when I called his name was a grunt, so I took it as acknowledgment that he was the guy on my list. According to the not-so-tight-lipped rest of my team, Billy is an ace player who rarely gets off the bench due to frequent academic ineligibility.
” Levi shrugged. “Not really sure what to make of that.”
Haddie finally relinquished the staring contest to turn toward her fellow coach.
“Don’t let other people tell his story. School year hasn’t even started yet.
My advice? Try not to label him before you’re even sure of his name.
” Her words came out harsher than she’d intended.
She saw a muscle pulse in Levi’s jaw, but when she opened her mouth to apologize, he beat her to the punch by grabbing the whistle around his neck, turning back toward his team, and blowing loudly to get their attention.
“Track’s all yours, gentlemen!” he bellowed.
“If you’re waiting for an invitation to hit the pavement, consider yourselves invited!
” He blew the whistle again. “Move! Move! Move!” he shouted.
“Do not show up back to the field until you hit a full mile in equal or less time than it took Coach Martin’s team! ”
As his team snapped to attention and broke into sprints, Levi turned back to Haddie and gave her a curt nod.
“Thanks for the advice, Coach,” he told her, his voice gruff.
Then he strode past her onto the field and headed toward Billy McMannus, who either hadn’t heard or, more likely, had ignored his impossible-not-to-hear coach.
Two hours and plenty of dribbling, shooting, and passing drills later, Haddie was ready to split her team for a nine-on-nine scrimmage.
Sure, it wouldn’t be a full team match, but it would give her athletes a chance to challenge each other and give their coach the opportunity to see who worked best in which position.
But when a soccer ball whizzed by her from center field, headed straight to where Sarah Ramirez—the name of Haddie’s staring contest opponent—had dropped to a squat to tie one of her cleats, Haddie froze but only for a beat.
Her heart thumped against her chest as the ball hurtled toward Sarah’s head.
In a split second, her instincts kicked in, and without thinking, she sprinted toward Sarah, pushing her out of the way while simultaneously blocking the ball with her torso.
She collapsed onto her back with a grunt, ball hugged to her chest as a crowd gathered around her.
“No goal,” she croaked, then heard a whistle blow in the distance.
“Holy shit!” someone remarked.
Haddie squinted, the sun obscuring her vision.
“Language,” she squeaked, still catching her breath and assessing the damage. Her ribs ached, but nothing felt broken.
Finally letting the ball roll out of her grasp, she pushed herself up onto her elbows. A figure extended a hand to help her up, and Haddie gripped it tight, letting whoever it was pull her to her feet.
“Sarah!” Haddie remarked with surprise. Loose grass tangled with the student’s disheveled left braid, the side on which she must have fallen when Haddie pushed her out of the way. Other than that, the girl looked no worse for the wear.
Jogging toward them with his team in tow was Levi, though she noticed a limp in his gait as he approached.
“McMannus!” Levi barked. “I think there’s something you want to say to Coach Martin.”
A tall, lean-muscled kid with a mop of sandy hair hanging over his eyes shrugged and nodded toward Haddie.
“Nice reflexes, Coach Martin,” he told her in a low, deep voice.
Haddie picked up the ball and tossed it back to him. “Nice shot,” she replied. “Just not quite nice enough.”
A chorus of oohs and aahs rang out among both teams. Levi opened his mouth, but Haddie caught his eye and shook her head.
She didn’t know what Billy McMannus’s story was either, or why he shot that ball at an unsuspecting player, but they weren’t going to figure that out here and certainly not now.
The only thing they could assess at the moment was how well their first day of camp had gone.
“What do you say we work this out on the field, Coach Rourke?” she challenged.
Levi’s eyes widened. “You mean a scrimmage?” He leaned a little closer. “Right now?” he added, only loud enough for her to hear.
Haddie laughed. “The kids,” she clarified.