Page 21 of The Coach

“You look like hell.”

He shakes his head. “Maria is teething.” He runs a hand over his head, thinking about his youngest daughter. His stupidly longer hair was still on display. “She’s all jacked up on her schedule, and nothing Robin and I do seems to work.”

“That’s rough,” I reply like I know anything. The extent of my knowledge ended when I was about seventeen or eighteen, when I stopped babysitting to earn money for school. But even then, they weren’t babies. “You guys stopping at three, then?”

“Nah.” He smiles broadly, reaching for his phone and showing me the screen. Three adorable kids sit on some stairs, one smiling, another pouting and the baby sitting in their oldest’s lap… well, she looks like a baby, I can’t decipher her expression. “Who would say no to more of these?”

I laugh and shake my head at him. We’re interrupted by the waiter, and I order a beer. It’s only three o’clock but not a game day, and practices are thankfully over.

And I could use something, even light, to take the edge off.

After we’ve placed our food orders, I turn my attention back to him. “So, what the hell are you doing here?”

His expression is lit with excitement. “Well, as it turns out, retirement is boring.” I doubted as much with three kids at home, but I wisely kept my mouth shut. “So, I’ve been looking around, trying to find something to fill my time, and what would you know? Denver was hiring a coach.”

I lift my brows in surprise. “Coach? You’re going to be coaching the Peaks?” I reference the Denver team and frown. “How come you didn’t reach out?”

He waves a hand at me. “Assistant coaching, getting the hang of that side of things. And I didn’t want you to feel obligated to find me something.”

I wouldn’t have, but I would have looked. Devon was my best friend, him moving here, coaching with me, would have been great.

“So, are you interviewing?”

He shakes his head. “Just got offered the position this morning.”

I give him my congrats and tap my beer to his. “So, when do you move?”

He winces and says, “Well, once I tell Robin it went well, we’ll need to find a place immediately. They want me next week.”

“Damn.” I whistle. “She’s gonna kill you.”

Devon grins fondly, like the thought of his wife maiming him is exciting rather than scary. “Speaking of wives, what’s up with you on that front?”

I’d made the terrible mistake of briefly mentioning in a phone call a few weeks ago how I’d met a woman that was amazing, how she was not like the women I’d dated previously, how I was hoping that things were going to progress with her.

“Uh.” I scratch at the stubble on my jaw and shrug. “Nowhere.”

His brows raise in surprise. “Nowhere?” He scoffs. “Just last week you were saying how amazing this woman was. What happened to her?”

Thinking about Mick last week, her disappointed gaze when I told Coach Lee that I was by myself, the way she’s pulled away and into herself, shielding herself from the hurt she didn’t want to face when we inevitably—in her mind—fell apart, it hurt.

“We’ve both decided that it’s best to not pursue things.” I lie, not because I don’t trust Devon. I could tell him every bit of it, and he wouldn’t flinch. He’s not the guy who’s gonna give me shit for dating a student—not when she was well above age—and he would probably tell me to not allow some college kid’s feelings affect what I have with my woman when I told him she was his sister.

“I don’t believe that for a second,” he finally says, taking a long swallow of his beer and giving a nod of thanks to the waiter when he drops off our burgers. We take our time to dress them the way we want before he speaks again. “When you called me last week you were so sure of her. What the fuck happened? Did she break it off?”

Technically, yes. But I didn’t fight her. I didn’t push her into something, not wanting to be overbearing. “Yeah, she did.”

“Is that what you want?”

I thought about it for a moment as he ate his burger. I take a fry and bite into it while I think. Is it what I want? Not at all. I want to march over to her place right now and demand she strip for me, demand that she let me make her feel good in all aspects, demand we spend another night together, laughing and talking and having fucking amazing, amazing sex.

I want it all.

“No.”

He shrugs. “Then what the hell are you doing?”

I look pointedly at him. “If I recall, you weren’t exactly forthcoming with Robin when you had your chance.”

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