Chapter 3
Ainsley
“I don’t see why this is so funny to you.”
Evan Cole, the head coach of the boys’ varsity lacrosse team, and one of my best friends, holds up his hands. “I’m sorry. I know this isn’t funny, but it’s pretty damn ironic.”
I roll my eyes as I lift my beer to my lips. “It’s bullshit, that’s what it is. Why would Danbury think this is a good idea?”
“It’s not entirely his fault. You know how the boosters are. It’s all politics.”
My top lip curls. I’m fully aware of the control they have on this town.
Rich parents volunteer their money and time, but it isn’t always out of the goodness of their hearts.
They know money talks, and they use it to get what they want.
Their kids get special treatment, and the boys’ teams get preferred practice times, faster upgrades, and better field access.
Politics is an understatement. Misogyny runs deep in the sports world. I learned that the hard way as a teenager, standing amongst players I was better than, yet being told to step aside; pull back; keep quiet. Because girls can’t get in the way while boys are busy doing important things.
“Seriously, though.” Evan lifts a dark brow as he takes a sip of his beer. “Are you going to be okay working with Landon?”
I pick at my uneaten boneless wings, pausing before I respond. “I’ll be fine. I just need to focus on my team.”
“Good. I don’t want to see a repeat of what happened to you back in high school.”
My gaze flicks to his, unease twisting my gut. “I said I’ll be fine.”
“Sorry I’m late.” Ivori drops her purse onto the bar and pulls out the bar stool beside me. She gestures to the bottle of Corona as she climbs onto the stool. “Is this for me?”
“It is.” I watch as she downs half the beer. “Rough day?”
She holds up her index finger, chugging the contents of the bottle until it’s empty. Then she signals the bartender for another.
Evan chuckles. “Is that parent still giving you a hard time?”
“Sure is.” She shrugs out of her coat, and scoops her long braids over her right shoulder. “I met with Principal Harrison after the bell rang. He wants me to drop it.”
My eyes widen. “Are you serious? He’s going to let that mom win?”
She plucks one of my wings out of the basket and stabs it in the air. “And he wants me to apologize.”
Evan blows a stream of air between his lips. “Apologize for what, following the curriculum that’s aligned with the state standards?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “You give the same assignment every year. It’s a debate class, what did this mom expect?”
Ivori shakes her head. “No clue.”
I reach out and rub her shoulder. “You’re a great teacher. Don’t let the parents make you think otherwise.”
“Thanks.” She offers me a brief smile. “Distract me. What’s new with you guys?”
Evan leans his elbows onto the bar top. “Landon Fletcher is the new head coach for the girls’ JV team.”
Ivori blinks as her brown eyes lock with mine. “I’m sorry, what?”
I cough out a laugh. “It was an ambush. We met in Danbury’s office five minutes before tryouts started.”
Her jaw drops open. “I heard a rumor that he moved back to town.”
My eyebrows jump. “And you didn’t think to share that information with the rest of the class?”
“I didn’t know if it was true, so I didn’t want to upset you for nothing.” She takes a bite of my chicken. “What did you say to Danbury?”
“I told him it was a bad idea, and then he said he could find new coaches if we aren’t able to put aside our differences.”
Ivori and Evan exchange glances. It’s the same expressions they wore in high school when I skipped meals and doubled my gym time; or when I passed out on the field from exhaustion; and after they called an emergency meeting with my dad and the guidance counselor behind my back.
I can admit now that I’d become obsessed with proving myself as the only girl on the boys’ lacrosse team—a team Landon Fletcher was the heart and soul of. And he didn’t make it easy on me. The Golden Boy had a hard time sharing the spotlight, and he made my life miserable because of it.
But I don’t need my friends worrying about me. They supported me more than enough when my father passed, and I refuse to be that burden again. “You guys don’t have to be worried about me. I’m not a kid anymore. I won’t make those same mistakes again.”
I feel foolish enough that I let him get under my skin so quickly today. We’re in our thirties, for Christ’s sake. I’m more mature than that.
Ivori places her hand on my forearm. “I know it’s been a long time since high school, and I know how much you’ve grown since then. But without reconciling anything between you two, it’s going to be difficult to navigate this. We’re just looking out for you, that’s all.”
Evan nudges the basket of wings in front of me. “And you haven’t touched your food since we got here, so tell me again how the past won’t repeat itself.”
My cheeks heat as I’m called out by my best friends. “I appreciate your concern.” I lift a chicken wing from the basket and take a big bite. “See? Nothing to worry about.”
Evan purses his lips, but Ivori helps change the subject. “All right, Coach Cole. Let’s hear about your shitty day. We’ve both clearly had one.”
Evan leans back against his chair and lets out a long exhale. “Lucas wants to get a tattoo.”
I toss my head back and bark out a laugh. That kid is going to send his father to an early grave.
The bartender drops down a refill for each of us, and Ivori clinks her bottle against mine. “Things could always be worse, Ainsley. We could have kids.”
“I don’t envy you, man. It’s hard enough being the coach of these kids. I can’t imagine being the parent of one.” I smile and bump Evan with my shoulder. “You gonna let him get a tattoo?”
“Hell no.” His entire body goes rigid, and his dark eyebrows press together over his olive-green eyes. “His frontal lobe isn’t close to being fully formed. He can’t even make up his mind about what he wants for dinner. He’s not getting a damn tattoo.”
“And what decisions did you make when your frontal lobe wasn’t fully formed?” Ivori arches an accusatory brow. “Could be worse.”
I know Evan doesn’t regret the accidental pregnancy when he was in college because it led him to his son. And Lucas is wonderful. But it has definitely caused Evan to keep a tight leash on him—sometimes a little too tight.
I tilt my head from side to side. “At least he’s coming to you with what he wants. It could be a good bonding moment for you two. You should think about it.”
He grumbles into his beer.
“What are you going to do about no-fun-Fletcher?” Ivori leans her elbow onto the bar and sinks her chin into her hand. “Maybe you two should sit down and have a talk before the season starts.”
I huff out a laugh. “Yeah, I don’t think talking is the right way to go. The little exchange we had in the hallway didn’t go over well.”
“Oh, girl. What did you say?”
I roll my lips between my teeth. “Let’s just say I made it clear that he needs to stay out of my way.”
“Doesn’t look like he listened.” Evan gestures toward the door, and in walks the devil.
My fingers crumple the napkin in my fist, watching as several people clap Landon on the back and shake his hand. I’m surprised there wasn’t a parade. The Golden Boy returns to Breakwater.
Landon’s eyes scan the room until they land on me.
Ivori lets out a low whistle. “Time has done the dude well.”
I scoff, my ponytail smacking me in the face as I whip my head to face her. “Can you not?”
She holds up her hands. “Sorry, sorry.”
“No, you’re not,” Evan chimes in. Then he lifts his hand and waves at Landon. “Hey, man.”
I choke on my spit. “What the fuck?”
He squeezes my shoulder. “You need this.”
“What I need are new friends.”
Fucking traitor.
Landon walks around the corner of the bar and takes the stool next to Evan. Their palms clap as they shake hands. “Good to see you, Fletcher. Been a while.”
“Seriously, it feels like a lifetime ago.” Landon shakes his head. “We’re old now.”
I dig into my wallet and pull out a couple of twenty-dollar bills for the wings I didn’t eat and the beer I drank. I’m not sitting here while my best friends chum it up with my enemy.
Ivori tugs on my hand as I push back my stool from the bar. “Come on, don’t leave. I just got here.”
“I’m tired. It’s been a long day.”
Evan ignores the fact that I’m standing with my car keys in my hand. “How did the first day of tryouts go for you both?”
Landon’s brown eyes meet mine. “We have some talented girls to choose from.”
Nope, not doing small talk. I cross my arms over my chest, putting my weight on my left leg as my hip cocks.
“Why are you doing this, Fletcher? Seriously, I need to know. Are you bored, and figured it’d be fun to ruffle my feathers after all these years?
Is this how you get your rocks off? High school wasn’t enough torture for one lifetime? ”
He lifts his chin. “Why do you do it? Why did you take this coaching position?”
I roll my eyes. “Please, I was here first. And trust me, I wouldn’t have taken this position if you were part of the coaching staff. Why don’t you go find another school?”
“Pfft. This is our school. We have history here. Why would I go somewhere else?”
“It’s true,” Evan offers.
I point my index finger in his face. “You keep quiet, or I’ll take Lucas to get his tattoo myself.”
The fucker laughs.
Landon gestures to the three of us. “It’s nice to see you guys are still close.”
“Do you still talk to anyone from high school?” Ivori asks.
Landon shakes his head. “Not really, aside from a few people on social media.”
“Aww, what happened?” I ask, not actually caring. “Did you all realize you peaked in high school and had nothing to talk about without lacrosse?”
“Yeah, something like that.” He chuckles, but there’s no humor behind it. “Listen, I came here tonight looking for you. We should squash whatever happened in the past, and try to be professional on the field for the sake of the girls. Today was...messy.”
“Because you kept testing me.”
“As if you planned on sharing that field with me.”
“Like you did for me back when I joined the team, right?”
“We were kids, Ainsley,” he snaps. “Why are you still holding onto that?”
My eyebrows hit my hairline. “You—”
Evan shoves back, his stool scraping across the wooden floor. “Take my seat, Ainsley. I’ve gotta head out.”
I purse my lips as I glare at him.
He drops a kiss to the top of my head. “Love you too, kid.”
“I’m staying.” Ivori salutes him as he turns. “Someone needs to supervise these two.”
“Ah, we’ll be fine.” Landon leans his elbows onto the bar, staring directly into my eyes like he’s taunting me. “We can play nice, can’t we?”
My eyes dart to the knife Evan was using on his steak earlier.
Landon snatches it off the bar and holds it out for the bartender. “Get the sharp objects away from her, would you?”
I grunt. “I’m sorry, but I’m not buying this whole act. You hate me just as much as I hate you. You know we won’t be able to sustain this professional working relationship. It’s not possible.”
“Not with your attitude we won’t.” Landon leans back against his stool, swiveling to face me head-on.
“You should take your own advice and go to therapy. Holding onto anger like this is very unhealthy.” His eyes narrow as he points to my forehead.
“Could explain those wrinkles you’ve got coming in. ”
Yep, I’m going to choke him. I step forward, but Ivori grips my elbow. “I won’t hold her back forever, Fletcher. Consider this a gift.”
Landon covers his chuckle behind his fist. “Sorry, it’s a habit.”
It’s more than a habit. It’s ingrained in our DNA. It’s what we’ve always done. We poked at each other, dig after dig, provoking the other until one of us snapped. And when we weren’t arguing to win, we were one-upping each other on the field. Anything-you-can-do-I-can-do-better type of shit.
But we’re not young and filled with hormones and rage like we used to be. I now have a seven-step skincare routine, and a back that goes out when I bend the wrong way. I’m too old and tired to be wasting my energy on this shithead.
The only problem is: I still have my pride, and Landon will have to pry it from my cold dead hands if he thinks I’m going to make nice after the way he left things.
After the way he turned his back on me.
“You can’t expect to show up like this and have everything be cool between us.” I sling my purse over my shoulder. “Like I told you earlier: Stay on your side of the field, and out of my way.”
It’s the only way we’ll manage to survive each other.