Chapter 3
Chapter Three
MARLOW
“Talk about awkward, huh?” Michaela huffs, flopping down on the bed in the guest room.
It’s got light yellow walls, billowing white curtains, and a twin-sized bed.
It’s nicer than anything I’ve ever lived in when I was in foster care.
“I bet Thane is regretting his decision of letting two college co-eds stay under his roof.”
Just seconds ago, Michaela finished giving me a quick tour of her childhood home.
It was even better than I imagined. Every corner, every room, every picture frame spoke of the love this family harboured for another one before the parents’ unfortunate passing.
Michaela’s old bedroom was an ode to her teenage self, encompassing posters of popstars, a large CD collection towering in one corner, lava lamps, and all sorts of cute trinkets that made me long to have been raised in a place where I could decorate to my taste without the worry of being shuffled to another house.
Everything was temporary for me until I turned eighteen.
Now I wonder what it would be like to lay roots and have a forever home.
I join her on the bed. “It wasn’t awkward and he didn’t appear to regret his decision. If anything, it seemed like he was happy to have you here, but he struggled to convey his thoughts. Unsurprising for someone who’s a bit of a recluse, right?”
What I saw downstairs was a man trying his best to bridge the gap between him and his estranged sister. He looked so forlorn when Michaela thanked him for letting us stay, as if he couldn’t fathom why his only family felt the need to do so.
At that moment, I ached for him.
Coach Thane was so young when he became responsible for Michaela. I can’t imagine having my life upended and having no choice but to raise my kid sibling.
“I guess so.” There’s a small nostalgic smile playing on her mouth like she’s reminiscing on fond memories.
It’s been there since she started giving me a house tour.
“Though leaving at eighteen to seek my own independence was the right choice… returning home feels right too. I just wish that I could gather the courage to apologize to Thane for not being grateful enough for everything he did.”
“We’ll be staying here for a bit, so you’ll finally have the opportunity to talk to him.” I shrug. “And even if you apologized, I’m sure he’d tell you that it doesn’t matter. You’re his family and he would do anything for you, Mic. It was written all over his face.”
“You’re right.” She sighs. “However, I don’t think it was just care for me written all over his face.” A mischievous look enters her eyes. “My brother took one look at you and was awestruck.”
I’m caught off-guard. “What?”
“I caught him checking you out.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. “Coach Thane wasn’t checking me out.”
If anything, he was being polite by welcoming us and eying our bags like he wished he could take them off our hands.
Michaela chuckles. “He totally was. Can’t blame him. You’re hot.”
The thought of Coach Thane checking me out makes my toes curl, my stomach flip, and my heart race. “Is this a good time to say I have a crush on Coach Thane?”
Michaela sputters. “Oh my God! What?”
I smack her shoulder playfully. “Do not give me shit for this! He’s cute, okay? I’ve always thought so, from the moment I saw him on the football field three years ago!”
Michaela bursts into a guffaw. “I can’t believe it! How come you never told me before?”
I chuckle too, sheepish. “I dunno. It just felt like a silly crush on an older, more attractive man so I kept it to myself.” Actually, it felt more than that, but he’s still Michaela’s brother and I don’t want to weird her out. “By the way, how old is he exactly?”
“Thirty-one.”
Ah, so ten years my senior. I gulp, trying to smother the butterflies swarming in my stomach. I like that Coach Thane is older, mature, stable, rugged, and so much more masculine than the jocks surrounding me who’ve barely got their frontal lobes developed.
Coach Thane is a man amongst a sea of boys and he’s my type to a T.
Once last year, I caught him running the track field, his band of football players following closely behind during practice. While they were huffing and puffing, Coach Thane was powering through, steady and perfect form.
And when he paused not too far away from where me and my cheer mates were stretching to peel off his white t-shirt sodden with sweat, my jaw almost hit the ground. He wrung it out with strong hands and my core throbbed, imagining it were me he was handling with his strong limbs.
Then he doused a water bottle over his sweaty, thick body, coated with chiselled muscles and black ink running down both his arms. He was hot. So. Fucking. Hot. The dusting of hair on his chest and happy trail made me feral for him.
Never did I have such a visceral reaction to a man until him.
All the boys from my past were selfish, full of themselves, and only about their own pleasure. None of them could locate my clit. But something tells me Coach Thane would have no problem finding it.
In my fantasies, he’s above me, holding me down by the neck.
Worrying my clit between the pads of his fingers.
Calling me a good girl. Thrusting his fingers inside my pussy until I’m dripping down to his knuckles.
Slapping a hand over my mouth as I come to mute my cries because this—us—is forbidden and nobody can know.
My face heats at the imagery playing in my mind.
Snap out of it, Marlow. This is not the time to be having these thoughts.
Next thing I know, there’s a hand waving in front of my face. “Earth to, Marlow. Hello. Is anyone there?”
Shit. Telling Michaela I zoned out to filthy thoughts of Coach Thane is not an option. “Y-Yeah, sorry. Just thinking.”
“About?”
A little white lie never hurt anybody, right? “About the ceramic painting class we’ve got scheduled later. I’m so excited.”
“Me too. It’ll be a great change of scenery after this morning’s situation.
” Michaela hops off the bed and extends a hand to me.
“C’mon. Let’s go see what Coach Thane—” she says Coach Thane in a teasing manner and wiggles her eyebrows at me.
I groan, almost regretting telling her about this crush. “—is up to since we’ve been gone.”
I take her hand. We exit her room and descend the staircase to the ground floor. The second our feet touch the last step, the smell of freshly brewed coffee and something buttery wafts in the air.
Michaela beelines it for the kitchen and I trail behind, taking an extra moment to inspect the picture frames in their hallway.
There’s a couple of their parents before I suspect Michaela and Coach Thane were born.
Then there’s a few of my best friend from baby to teenage years.
My heart skips a beat when I come across a few of Coach Thane from when he was younger. God, he was always handsome, wasn’t he?
I couldn’t have picked a worse man to obsess over, knowing he can never be mine. For all intent and purposes, even if I don’t report to him, I’m a student at the college where he teaches. It would be wrong.
Plus, I’m sure Coach Thane has his fair share of picks from the dating pool. I doubt he’d want anything to do with a twenty-one-year-old cheerleader who’s got nearly a complete bachelor’s degree under her belt and surviving on scholarship money.
And regardless of what Michaela said about Coach Thane checking me out, I doubt my crush could morph into more.
Even if deep down there’s a small part of me that wishes it would.
I’m at this point in my life where I want a real relationship.
Someone to take care of me. Someone to come home to.
Someone to love me until the end. I’m not sure why, but sometimes it feels impossible to find in this world of ours.
Just as I enter the kitchen, I hear Michaela say in shock, “Oh, what’s this?”
And my heart practically somersaults.
Coach Thane stands by the kitchen island, a coffee pot in hand and a vulnerable expression on his face. In front of him are two pastel-colored plates stacked with small mountains of pancakes, doused in butter and maple syrup. “I made breakfast.”
Oh, my God.
He cooked for us?
Michaela and I watch him silently, stunned.
“I figured you didn’t get to eat since the leak in your apartment happened so early this morning.” He explains and then frowns, green eyes moving between Michaela and me. “Should I have made something else? Whatever you want, I’ll make it. Just tell me.”
The gruffly spoken words, like he’s so eager to be a good host to his sister and I tears at me. Never in a million years did I think I’d get to see this soft side of Coach Thane.
Now I’m faced with the reality that while Coach Thane is a drill sergeant on the outside, barking orders at his football players and working them to their full potential, he’s actually a teddy bear on the inside.
“No. Pancakes are fine.” Michaela shoots me a look I don’t understand and then shrugs at her brother. “It’s just…we already had breakfast before we came.”
Instantly, he’s crestfallen, his shoulders drooping with embarrassment.
Michael stands there guilty.
I want to palm my forehead. This is a mess.
Clearly, there’s a lot of work to be done in order for the siblings to mend their relationship.
And because I want to help them—and a part of me longs to have this: a family that’s alive and cooks for you, I blurt out another white lie, “Michaela and I can eat for three and we barely ate before we came. So we’re definitely still starving.
” I glance at my best friend and discreetly widen my eyes to signal to her that we are going to sit down and eat these pancakes, every last bite, until we’re stuffed, because what Coach Thane did was extremely kind. “Right, Mic?”