Chapter 25 #2
“And your team is doing great under the tutelage of your sister,” Newsome said.
“However, your history sub had no clue about soccer, so she’s really glad you’re back to take that over.
Your girls have been working hard, and hopefully won’t have any issues seeing as you have your first game back tomorrow night. ”
I patted my thigh. “We’ll work out all the kinks. Thanks for taking care of everything. I know it couldn’t have been easy with all that went on.”
Meaning, they’d covered for me and watched my ass with the school board and the parents when it was learned that my father was a freakin’ creep.
The only thing that’d saved me beyond anything else was my distance from my family. I’d had nothing to do with them and had made no bones about my distaste for my father and his church.
I’d learned of the school board meeting only after it’d already happened.
Some of the parents had been bound and determined that I was fired.
But the soccer girls as well as all their parents, and the parents of my regular history students, had come out in full force and defended me and my character.
My father’s sins would not be my own.
They’d made sure of it.
Meanwhile, I’d been convalescing at home, and not paying a bit of attention to everything going on outside of that home.
The Dixie Wardens, and my man, had known, though.
They’d defended me as well, making sure that I wouldn’t lose the job that I loved so much.
It was only last week when I’d announced that I would be back before the start of soccer season that I’d learned of it all from Weaver.
I’d been dismayed to hear that some people wanted me out, but I’d been overjoyed to hear that many, many more had defended me.
“We got your back, doll,” Newsome said as he touched the top of my head. “Now, what do those scars look like?”
A coach’s job doesn’t finish at three when school lets out. It only just begins.
That was why, an hour after school had let out, I was on the soccer pitch staring at the group of girls in front of me.
“All right,” I said. “Team captains are no surprise. Tamara and Mia, come on up.”
The two girls, both seniors, headed toward me with wide smiles.
“I’m sure you never saw this coming,” I teased as I handed out the captain’s bands.
They took them with grateful smiles and headed back to their line. “The teams are not set in stone. The girls you see on the JV will be moved up to play on varsity if they’re better. Varsity as of right now consists of…”
I read off the names, and they all split into the two teams.
When I was done I said, “Work hard, and you keep your spot. Fail, don’t show up to practice, or screw off instead of trying hard?
Then you’re getting your spot taken. I don’t care if you’re a senior.
I don’t care if you’re older than the girl ready to take your spot.
If you’re the better player, you’ll play. End of story.”
They all listened.
Everyone there but one knew how I operated.
And they respected it.
I had a great group of girls this year and it was going to be great.
I was super happy to see when we divided up that the team captains took Bossy under their wing and brought her into the fold.
She would not be an outsider on my team.
None of them would.
I didn’t condone that, and I certainly wouldn’t stand for it with any of my players.
“Now,” I called out after the latest drill finished.
“We’re going to split off into two teams, mix of varsity and JV, and we’re going to scrimmage for the last half of practice.
Game’s tomorrow. Play the positions you want to play in the game.
Sub out every five minutes. Mia and Tamara, pick your teams.”
Unsurprisingly, Bossy wasn’t the last chosen. She’d shown off her skills to the group, and it was obvious that if UIL had allowed it, she’d be on varsity.
It was as they split off into their teams and were about ten minutes in that he showed.
“Who. Is. That?”
Weaver arrived along with several other parents to watch the last bit of practice, and he grinned upon seeing me.
“Coach E,” Tamara said, sweat dripping off her face on the sideline. “Is that man here for you? He is hot!”
“That’s my dad,” Bossy groaned. “Please, for the love of all that’s holy. I can’t think of him that way.”
“I heard that she was dating a player’s dad,” Tamara continued with a little giggle in her voice. “But I didn’t know he was your dad. Sorry, girl, but your dad has it going on.”
Tamara downright laughed when Bossy gagged.
Practice ended with a 2-2 tie, and everyone dispersed into the locker room, even Bossy.
Which left me with a handsome devil of a man coming toward me and wrapping me up in his arms.
“Hey.” I smiled. “Come to see how she was doing?”
“Came to see how you were both doing.” He kissed my forehead. “How are your ribs?”
“Okay,” I admitted. “A little sore from being up all day, but overall I feel pretty good. I’m tired, though. I forgot how long my day was during soccer season. I seem to forget every year, though.”
“Ready for the game tomorrow?” he asked.
“More than.” I smoothed my hands up the length of his chest, pausing on his muscular pectorals and squeezing lightly. “This year’s going to be another good one. The JV is going to do splendidly.”
“Because of Bossy?” he asked quietly.
“Because of Bossy,” I confirmed. “How’d today go?”
My father had gotten out of the hospital only to have his first court appearance for his crimes—the ones involving him ordering a hit on his daughter as well as several other counts of crimes against children.
I’d decided that I’d rather not go, but Weaver hadn’t had the same inclination.
He’d gone, as well as participated in the trial.
I’d have to appear in the full trial at some point, but that wouldn’t be for a while.
But when I did have to show, I would tell all.
And I wouldn’t hold back a single thing.
Because sick, disgusting people like that didn’t deserve to breathe free air.
“They denied him bail due to the judge believing him a flight risk.”
“Good.”
“Your mother, however, was awarded bail. As well as Andrews. Audrey was also denied bail.”
“Good,” I said. “I’m not too happy with Andrews getting bail, or my mother for that matter. But Audrey and my father…I’m happy about that.”
“I’m not happy that you’re working here with our impressionable young girls, but here we are.”
Both of us turned to see the one mom that I despised staring at us with no ounce of remorse for listening in on our conversation.
The problem with this mother was that her daughter was an absolute sweetheart.
That girl, Fray, was a mediocre at best soccer player, but was just happy to be on the team and be with her friends.
It’d been three whole years of her not playing all that much because she didn’t have the skill set to compete against other soccer players her age.
When we were winning at least three to nothing, I put her in.
She got playing time. Just not as much as her mother would like.
Her mother thought Fray was the best soccer player on the field and deserved more playing time than she got. And took it out on me every time she saw me, letting me know that she didn’t agree with my coaching style.
She was probably the leader of the “get Coach E fired” brigade.
“Hello, Mrs. Gatsby.”
Mrs. Gatsby was the talk of the town, and not for a good reason.
Her husband had been cheating on her with any woman who looked his way. He was rich, powerful, and very uninterested in his wife. His kid, on the other hand? He loved his kid and made it to every soccer game despite her not playing.
He was also very blunt with Mrs. Gatsby about Fray’s status on the team.
As an ex-professional soccer player himself, he knew what it took.
And he knew his daughter didn’t have it.
Mrs. Gatsby sniffed at me and turned up her nose, giving me the cold shoulder.
Weaver’s hand tightened on my arm, not painfully, but enough that I could tell he was angered.
“Coach E!”
I looked to find three of my seniors, including Fray, walking our way along with Bossy.
“Hey, girls.” I smiled.
“Is this your boyfriend?”
I looked up at Weaver, studying his strong jaw, covered in a couple days’ worth of beard stubble. His blue-gray eyes that changed colors depending on the lighting. His chocolate-brown hair and his perfectly plump lips.
Before I could answer them, Bossy answered for me.
“They’re dating,” Bossy chirped. “Dad’s trying to figure out how long they have to date before it’s acceptable to ask her to marry him, though.”
I watched Weaver’s lips kick up.
Eyes sparkling, he said, “I’m thinking it has to be three months. That way everyone knows that we’re a thing, and it doesn’t look like we jumped into anything drastically.”
The seniors all smiled.
“Dad and my mother did that,” Fray added in.
It was telling how she called her dad “dad” and her mom “mother.”
It also made me want to blurt out, “Maybe we should wait six months!”
“Let’s go, Fraya,” Mrs. Gatsby ordered.
“Actually, I have my own car today, remember? I was just coming over here to remind you,” Fray, who hated to be called Fraya since it was also her mother’s name, said.
“I’ll see you at home. I’m going to stop by the public library until they close to get my school science project finished with these two. ”
Mrs. Gatsby’s mouth pursed. “I forgot your father loaned you his car.”
Fray smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes.
“Be home by eight for dinner.”
“Actually, we’re having a team dinner tonight with the soccer team, remember?”
I could practically see Mrs. Gatsby’s eyes lighting with fire.
Her eyes turned to me as she said, “You won’t be there, I’m assuming.”
I shook my head. “This is a player-led team dinner. No coaches allowed.”
No coaches invited, more aptly put, but I wasn’t going to say that to her.
“Fine.” She turned away from me. “Fraya, I’ll see you at home. Curfew is eight-thirty.”
“Dad told me I could stay out until ten,” she said. “If I come home at eight-thirty, I won’t even get to eat dinner.”
“Nine.”
“Ten.” Fray shrugged. “I have to go pick up Dad from work, anyway, since I have his car. So don’t expect me home then, either. Dad has a work meeting.”
With that, Fray and the other two seniors walked off, leaving the three of us in an awkward silence as Mrs. Gatsby watched her walk away.
Sensing the weird tension in the air, Weaver caught my arm and guided us away from the clearly fuming woman.
“What a meanie,” Bossy whispered when we were far enough away.
“At least you only have to see her for the rest of this season,” I muttered. “I had to spend the last four years dealing with her since she was the head of the soccer booster club.”
“Are you too tired to drive home?” Weaver asked.
I shook my head. “Actually, I was going to stay at my place tonight.”
Weaver caught my arm and said, “Bossy, go wait in the truck.”
Bossy gave me a “god help you” look and kept walking, a smirk on her face.
I waited until she was mostly far enough away that she wouldn’t hear what I assumed was about to be an argument before saying, “What is it?”
“You’re going to stay at your place?”
I nodded. “I…”
“Will be staying with me at my place. I have your cat. I have almost all of your clothes. And I have your bathroom shit.”
I opened my mouth and closed it.
He was right.
He did have all of those things.
“I can pick it all up.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Why?”
I bit my lip, then decided, fuck it.
“I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”
His eyes gleamed. “When I’m tired of you, you’ll know it. In the meantime, you’ll stay at my place. Sleep in my bed. Eat the breakfast that I make you. And come home to me every night.”
I gasped. “That’s rather high-handed of you to assume that I’ll just stay over there because you want me there.”
“High-handed…” He bent down and skimmed the tip of his nose along my throat. “Or practical? Will you be happy sleeping alone?”
No.
“Will you enjoy waking up without me every morning?”
Double no.
“Do you want to walk back into that bare apartment without your cat or Bossy or me?”
Definitely not.
“Based on the look in your eyes, I’m guessing no.” He smirked. “Now, do you want to ride home with me, and I’ll take you back in the morning? Or do you want to drive?”
I scrunched up my nose. “I have this fancy little driver that just got a Montana learner’s permit. She can drive.”
He pulled me into his arms, right up against his hard body, and said, “How did the doctor’s appointment go?”
I knew exactly what he was asking.
“I’m cleared for light to moderate activity as long as it doesn’t hurt my ribs.”
He pulled away, but not before pressing his very rigid erection against me before saying, “See you at home, Edith.”