Chapter Thirty-Seven #2
She nods toward my phone. I fumble while trying to unlock it and open the web browser, then type in my father’s name. The headline pops up, right there, front and center.
Rixton Head Coach Andrew Dawson Resigns Midseason.
The article doesn’t say much beyond that. It claims the decision was personal. The assistant coach, Tom Glasgow, has already been named the new head coach. The reporter mentions they reached out to Rixton University for a comment, but no one has responded yet.
“They’re already making roster changes too,” Atlee says quietly.
I keep reading, my eyes scanning the rest of the article.
In related news, standout forward Macklin Greer has entered the transfer portal and is expected to join Rixton pending eligibility approval.
I blink. “You gotta be kidding,” I murmur.
“What?” Atlee says, leaning over trying to see my screen.
I read it out loud to her. “Macklin Greer, isn’t that the guy who slammed into your brother? The one that caused his shoulder injury in the first place? He’s transferring to Rixton.”
Atlee goes still. Like completely freezes.
“I’m sorry, did you say Macklin Greer?” she asks, frantically pulling up her phone again like she’s trying to confirm what I just told her.
“Yeah,” I say. “Why?”
She recovers quickly. “No reason,” she says, reaching for her drink. “That’s just… big. Big news, I mean.”
I study her. “You know him?” I ask.
She shrugs, trying to play it off casually, but this doesn’t seem like the light and carefree Atlee I’ve gotten to know. She almost seems on edge.
“Everyone knows Macklin Greer. He’s been making waves all season.”
That’s true. I’ve heard his name before. There was a lot of talk about him in the pregame show when the two teams met. But that doesn’t explain the expression on her face.
“You look like you just saw a ghost,” I say lightly.
She laughs, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
“I just didn’t expect this sort of move this far into the season,” she says.
I nod slowly, but don’t let it go completely. I scroll back up, rereading the headline about my father resigning.
“You okay?” Atlee asks, softer now.
“I don’t know, honestly,” I admit.
My father stepping down shouldn’t shock me.
I don’t know him well enough to say whether it’s something he’d do or not. But seeing it written out like that, after everything I’ve learned in the past day, makes it feel real in a different way.
Atlee and I change the subject to classes while I pick at my food before we go back over the article again. Eventually, we both give up trying to make sense of it. We pay the bill and step out onto the sidewalk together.
“We should get together again soon and hang out.” I nod, and she pulls me in for a hug. “Text me if anything weird happens,” she says before heading toward her car.
“Pretty sure that’s the theme of my life lately,” I mutter.
I turn on music as a distraction as I head over to the loft. I’m so lost in my thoughts that I forget to even text Cooper. By the time I pull into the lot, I’m still mulling over everything that’s happened when I see Cooper’s truck in the parking lot outside.
I stare at it for a second before I turn my car off.
When I step out, he’s leaning against the side like he’s been there long enough to get comfortable.
“Are you stalking me now that you have my location?” I ask as I walk toward him.
He shrugs. “I wanted to see my girlfriend.”
“You could’ve texted,” I tell him. He raises his eyebrows.
I pull my phone out of my pocket, and sure enough, there’s a missed call and text from him.
“Did you hear the news?” he asks.
“About your coach?” I ask. It’s weird to refer to him as my father in any sort of capacity.
“Well, there’s that,” he says. “But Reed also told me that Coach’s brother has been put on administrative leave, pending investigation.”
I blink at him. “For what?”
“Not tied to the school,” he says. “Other misconduct. I guess it was enough they couldn’t continue to ignore it.”
I close the distance between us, and he pulls me into his arms.
“And with Coach Dawson stepping down,” he continues, “I’m sure they’re hoping to handle it all quietly. They don’t want to jeopardize our chances in the playoffs.”
I look at him closely now.
“What did you do?” I ask.
He shakes his head almost immediately. “Nothing illegal.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
He pulls me closer, close enough that I can see the tiredness beneath his eyes.
“Do you trust me?” he asks.
“Of course I do.”
He nods once. “Then that’s all that matters,” he says. “I’ll always do whatever I have to do to protect you.”
A part of me wants to press him for details, but another part of me doesn’t want to know. I’ve learned the hard way that sometimes ignorance really is bliss.
“Okay,” I say.
He studies my face for a second before leaning in to press a kiss to my lips.
“Let’s head inside and get your things packed up,” he says, reaching down to lace our fingers together. “I want to take you out tonight, and you’re gonna need something nice to wear.”
“Take me out?”
“On a date. A real one. And I can’t have you wearing my T-shirt and boxers where I’m planning on taking you.”
My face warms, and I smile again. “Where are we going?”
“I can’t tell you,” he says. “That would ruin the surprise.”
“Well, that’s not fair.”
He tilts his head toward my place and leads me across the lot to the building. He swats my butt as we climb the stairs, and I playfully smack him back.
“You’re really not going to give me any clues?” I ask as I slide the key into the lock and push the door open.
“Nope.”
“Is it somewhere fancy?”
“Depends on your definition of fancy.”
“Is it outside?”
“Brinley.” He gives me a look.
I laugh even though I’m still planning to get something out of him eventually.
“The whole point,” he adds, stepping inside behind me, “is that you don’t have to think about anything tonight. No worrying or overthinking. I just want you to have fun.”
I watch him for a second.
After all the drama that’s followed us lately, the idea of going out and just having fun almost feels unbelievable.
I spin around and slide my arms around his neck, pulling him down to kiss me.
“As long as I’m with you,” I murmur, “I don’t think that’ll be a problem.”
He lifts me into his arms, and I wrap my legs around his waist. He lets out a low hum, deepening the kiss as he carries me across the kitchen and sets me on the breakfast bar.
“Now that’s what I’m talking about.”