Sideline Rivals (The Sideline #1)

Chapter 1

Ainsley

Today is going to be a good day.

The rhythmic crunching of my sneakers against the concrete slows as I round the corner of my street. Seagulls squawk overhead, alerting us that Spring is finally here. The corners of my mouth tip up. Spring means lacrosse season. My favorite time of year.

I flick my wrist to check the time on my watch, and a full-blown smile stretches my lips.

“Hey, Coach.” Bernard waves from the rocking chair on his porch at the house next-door to mine. “How’d you do today?”

“Four miles in under thirty-minutes.”

“You’re getting faster, and I’m getting older.”

I laugh as I jog up my porch steps. “You’d feel a lot younger if you stopped eating hot dogs every night for dinner.”

He rolls his eyes, and adjusts the oxygen hose in his nose. “I’ll tell you the same thing I told the doctor: I’m seventy-eight, so let me eat what I want before I die.”

I hold up my palms on either side of my head. “I’m not saying you have to turn into one of those wheatgrass drinkers. But you can at least eat a better part of the pig than whatever’s in a hot dog.” I shiver at the thought. “I’ll whip up something better for dinner tonight.”

He lifts a busy grey eyebrow. “Depends what’s on the menu.”

“It’ll be a surprise, but I promise you’ll love it.” I wink. “I’ll be knocking on your door around six.”

“Fine.” He lifts a wrinkled hand and points his index finger at me. “But if I don’t like it, I’m not eating it.”

I shake my head and chuckle to myself as I make my way inside my house. Never thought I’d meet someone more stubborn than I am, but Bernard has a heart of gold under that gruff exterior so I let it slide.

“How was your run?”

My sneakers squeak against the tile as I skid to a stop, my shoulders shooting up to my ears. “Jesus, Travis.”

“Sorry.” He smiles, and his blue eyes travel down the length of my body. “Wow, you look amazing even when you’re all sweaty.”

My chest heaves as salty droplets roll down my skin. “What are you still doing here?”

He shrugs like him still lurking in my house after we said goodbye earlier is a normal occurrence. “I took off work. I figured we could spend the day together.”

Oh. “Uh...you know I have work today.”

Travis’ hands slip around my waist as he pulls me against him. “Call out.”

I’ll admit, it’s tempting. A day off spent rolling around the sheets with Travis Henderson sounds very tempting. But something’s off, and this doesn’t feel like the same as the late-night booty call we usually have.

I press my palms against his bare chest, and push him backward. “I have tryouts today. Can’t call out.”

His smile fades, and he rests his hands behind him on the counter.

I force a laugh to ease the thickening tension. “Besides, you didn’t leave me with much energy after last night. I don’t think I could survive the entire day in bed with you.”

His eyebrows collapse. “I wasn’t insinuating we’d spend the day in bed, Ainsley.”

Oh. I see what’s going on here.

“I thought we could go to the beach, and then get lunch after.” He steps closer to me again, and clasps my hands. “We never hang out during the daytime.”

My stomach churns, sirens blaring in my ears. “Well, I’m not a vampire. I swear. I just came from outside. See?”

He chuckles, and his breath tickles my lips as his nose brushes against mine. “You know what I mean.”

I do know what he means, and it would be easy to succumb to the kiss he’s about to plant on me. I could spend the day with him, and there’s no doubt in my mind I’d have a great time with him.

But therein lies the problem.

I give him another gentle push, and take two steps back. “I’m sorry, but I can’t do this. We have a good thing going. I don’t want to blur the lines, and mess that up.”

“I didn’t realize hanging out together—actually talking instead of fucking—would mess things up.” He folds his arms over his chest. “I like you, Ainsley. I thought you liked me too.”

“I do like you.” I throw up my hands. “I just thought we were on the same page when I said I wanted to keep things casual.”

“We were.” He threads his fingers through his blond hair. “But I guess we’re not anymore.”

Damnit. Now I have to start from scratch, and find someone new to mess around with all over again. That shit’s exhausting. Maybe I can salvage this somehow.

“Look, I don’t want to stop what we’re doing. I like things exactly the way they are. But I don’t want to give you the wrong impression. I’m not looking for anything serious.”

“You might. One day. Don’t you think?” He shrugs. “It’s been six months. Maybe after some more time together—”

“No, Travis. And you’re great. It’s not you.” I mean it too. He’s handsome, and kind, and successful, and fantastic in bed. “I know this sounds like some bullshit line, but it’s just who I am. I’ve never been one for relationships.”

He nods, dropping his gaze to the floor. “You were clear about that from the beginning.”

My heart sinks. I hate hurting people, but it’s not my fault he went and caught feelings after I outlined the terms of this arrangement.

“I’m sorry I ambushed you with this.” He lifts his eyes to mine. “I’ll get dressed, and get out of your hair.”

“I’m sorry.” I should say more, explain myself. But where’s the sense in that? It’s better this way. Quick, like a band aid.

After the awkward five minutes it takes him to get dressed and leave, I jump in the shower, and then I’m out the door again. I don’t have time to stop and worry about Travis or his feelings. I have an important day ahead of me.

Today is going to be a good day.

“You wanted to meet with me, sir?”

I love referring to my colleagues in a professional manner after I’ve seen them six shots in at a holiday party.

The athletic director, Colin Danbury, waves me into his office. “Close the door behind you, Ms. Morgan.”

I glance up at the clock on the wall as the door clicks behind me. “Ready for tryouts?”

“Yes, I’m excited for this new season, especially coming off your state championship win last year. You’ve done well with the team.” He steeples his fingers on his desk. “Moving you from JV to varsity was clearly the right move.”

“Thanks.” I sink down into the chair opposing him. “They’re a great group of athletes.”

“I know you’ve got a lot to prep for today, so I won’t keep you long.”

I lean forward and rest my elbows on my knees. “Okay, shoot.”

“As you know, we’ve had to hire a new coach for the junior varsity team this year.”

I nod. “I kept checking the board minutes to see if we’d found anyone, but I didn’t see anything.”

Reading the district’s minutes every month is equivalent to a tabloid magazine for teachers. Salaries, hirings, and firings are all posted for public consumption.

And judgment. That’s our favorite part.

“Well, we’ve found someone. It’ll be announced at this week’s board meeting, but I wanted to give you a heads-up since you’ll be on the field with him today.”

“Sweet. I’ll make sure to show him the ropes and let him know how things are run here.”

Danbury chuckles. “That won’t be necessary. He’s a former alum, just like yourself.”

My shoulders relax as I smile. Music to my ears. The last thing I need is my time taken away from my team to help a newbie coach.

I’m about to ask if I know the guy, when a knock at the door interrupts me.

“That’s him now.” Danbury calls, “Come in.”

My head turns, and my eyes land on the tall man striding into the room. My stomach drops and the room tilts. I brace a hand on the back of my chair as dread crawls up my spine, every muscle in my body going rigid.

No. No way.

I blink several times. This has to be one of those nightmares teachers have before a new week of school starts. Sunday Scaries are no joke.

But this man walking toward me is too real to be a dream.

His thick, dark, tousled hair is a bit longer than he wore it in high school, despite the many nights I spent praying that he’d go bald.

His jaw filled out, just like his muscles.

Handsome and perfect as ever, he still looks exactly like Breakwater High’s Golden Boy.

And my arch nemesis.

“Hey, Ainsley.” The sound of his deep voice grates like nails scraping down a chalkboard. Bile rises in my throat as he drops down into the chair beside me and offers me a bright smile like a smug bastard.

My teeth grind together, and my fingers twitch with a strong urge to punch that smile right off his face. “You have to be fucking kidding me.”

Professionalism be damned. Danbury knows what a horrific idea this is. There’s no sugar-coating it.

Danbury holds up his hands. “Ainsley, I know you two have history—”

“History?” That word makes it sound like some petty high school drama instead of something we barely survived.

Enemy. Foe. Words don’t do this justice. Bad blood runs through our veins, deep into the marrow of our bones.

The last time I laid eyes on him was graduation day.

Then he left for college on the opposite end of the country, and we no longer had to strategically move around this town avoiding each other, choosing our friend groups, restaurants, and grocery stores like we were in a silent custody battle.

My life has been peaceful without Landon Fletcher for the last seventeen years.

But that peace will be obliterated if we’re standing on the same field, coaching both of the girls’ lacrosse teams this season.

What’s worse, he’s sitting next to me right now cool as a cucumber. No doubt this asshole planned today’s ambush.

I glare at Danbury as if my eyes could shoot lasers. “This was your decision?”

He heaves a sigh, rocking back in his leather chair. “I was not the one who made the final call, no. But I don’t see what’s wrong with two of Breakwater’s most successful lacrosse players heading the coaching staff here.”

“You know damn well what’s wrong with this situation.” My head whips to Landon, venom dripping from my tongue. “This position isn’t a joke; not to those girls, and not to this school. It’s actually pathetic that you’re still trying to get back at me after all this time. Go to therapy.”

Landon’s chin jerks back like I slapped him. “This has nothing to do with you. I know it’s always been a hard concept for you to comprehend, but not everything is about you.”

My face heats, my blood turning to lava under my skin.

“You don’t know anything about what it’s like being a female in the sports world, so don’t pretend to.

Why don’t you wait for Coach Cole to retire so you can take over the boys’ team instead?

There’s plenty of misogyny and testosterone over there. You’ll feel right at home.”

“That’s enough.” Danbury’s sharp tone cuts through the room.

“I understand this pairing isn’t ideal for either of you, but the priorities here are your teams. So, if you’d like to keep your positions as head coaches, then I suggest you figure out how to put this old rivalry aside and focus on your jobs. ”

My job. I’m a teacher at this school. Landon isn’t. Not that it’s a prerequisite to be a coach, but I still want to stomp my foot like a petulant child.

My school. My team. Mine, mine, mine.

Landon’s jaw works under his skin as we glare at one another.

There’s no way either of us will back down, and there’s also a snowball’s chance in hell that we’ll reconcile after all this time.

The two of us are stuck working together.

It won’t be easy, but I’m no stranger to adversity.

I’ve earned this position, and I’m making history in this town as the first female head coach for our varsity team. Nothing will get in my way.

Especially not him.

“Are we good here?” Danbury asks. “Or do I have to find new coaches?”

Through gritted teeth, I push out the words, “We’re good.”

Danbury flicks his gaze to Landon, waiting for his response.

“We’re good, sir.”

“Good.” Danbury clasps his hands on his desk. “I’m looking forward to a great season.”

I push out of my chair, and make a beeline for the door. Biting my tongue isn’t my strong suit, and the words are burning my throat as I hold them back. The further I get from this office, the better.

Landon follows me out into the hallway. “So, it’s like this, still, after all these years?”

Just ignore him. Keep walking.

“Ainsley.”

He’s baiting you. Don’t respond.

“You tell me I need therapy?” he continues. “It’s pretty sad to see that you haven’t done any personal growth in the last decade.”

Aaaand there it is.

I spin around on my heels, forcing Landon to stop short so he doesn’t crash into me.

“Here’s how this is gonna go: You stick to your side of the field, and I’ll stick to mine.

Don’t speak to me, and I won’t speak to you.

But so help me God, if you try to undermine me in any way, I will ruin your life. ”

His brown eyes narrow as he stares down his nose at me. “You really think I’d take this position just to mess with you? As if I’ve thought about nothing else since graduation?” He huffs out a laugh. “Good to know your ego is still fueling you.”

I roll my eyes so hard I see my brain. “You’re saying you didn’t immediately think of me when this position opened up?

You didn’t think about the fact that we’d have to work together every single day?

” I lift my chin, trying to make up for the few inches he has on me.

“Because I’d bet all my money that your little dick got hard when you thought about seeing the look on my face when you walked into that office just now. ”

“That’s the difference between us, Ainsley.

I don’t get off on causing drama and making other people miserable.

I am a professional. I am a team player.

I know why I took this job, and it has nothing to do with you.

” His head dips down as he lowers his voice, his dark eyes gleaming like a demon.

“But you should ask yourself why you’re thinking about my dick after all these years. ”

My fingers curl into my palms as I ball my hands into fists, rage coursing through my body like a poison.

Calm down, Morgan. You’ve been through this before. You know what to do.

I count my breaths, slow, deliberate and practiced.

It’s been so long since I’ve had any sort of exchange with this man, and I forgot how infuriating he is.

Arguing with him won’t get me anywhere though, aside from popping an antacid in my bath later tonight.

I need to take the high road and continue keeping my head down, focusing on my team.

I landed the coveted varsity coaching spot, after all, while he’s on JV.

“I know this is difficult for you, being second to a girl yet again. The same girl, no less.” I smirk as I turn to walk away. “Keep riding my coattails, Golden Boy. Maybe you’ll learn a thing or two this time around.”

With my head held high, I make my way out to the field and don’t spare him a second glance. I’m used to putting on a smile and controlling my emotions when it comes to this game. Nothing will rattle me this season. Not the parents, not the other teams.

Least of all Landon fucking Fletcher.