Page 52 of The Coach

Handcuffs… damn.

We were definitely revisiting that whole situation later.

I was happy about this because I’d spent most of Thanksgiving and Christmas gushing over my new girlfriend. Oh yeah, I am apparently that guy.

The kind who couldn’t shut up about the amazing woman he’d found, the one who would probably push all his single friends into relationships so they could experience what I found. I had a multitude of friends—including Devon and Robin—who tried to do that to me over the years.

None of us knew I was just waiting for her.

My parents were happy for me, my mom was happy because she thought I’d never settle down, and my dad was thrilled because he was dying to be a grandpa. Yup, my dad was begging for grandkids while my mom told me to take my time.

“You know, Mick,” my mom starts, setting down her plate of chow mein and grabbing her glass of wine. “Your plan in there reminds me of this trip we took to Tahiti—”

Dad and I both start interrupting her at the same time. “Mom!”

“Deb! For the love of, don’t tell them about that.”

Mom glances between us, her expression innocent. I feel Mick’s shoulder move beside me, and when I look behind the curtain of her soft hair, she’s got a smile on her face, laughing at us.

Mom plants her fists on her hips and gives my dad a scolding look. “It’s completely natural to want to explore your sexual partner.”

I set my face in my palm, my rough calluses rubbing over my stubbled face. Could this get worse?

“You’re not wrong,” Mick says, appearing rather calm and shocking me. This is a drastic change from her embarrassed demeanor before. “I just wasn’t planning on his parents finding me in that position.”

My dad’s face turns bright red, and he averts his gaze to his food, shoveling in another bite. Mom lays her hand on Mick’s knee from where she sits cross-legged on the floor, with Mick and I on the couch to her right.

“Well, we weren’t planning on meeting you this way, but it was destined to be! I’ve been wanting to meet you since I knew you existed on Thanksgiving.”

Mick turns to me, raising a brow, her chocolate eyes drilling into mine. “Thanksgiving, huh?”

I shrug. “They won’t say anything.”

Mom blows a raspberry. “Oh, it’s absolutely ridiculous how this school has its rules. You’re both adults. It’s not like he’s your professor or anything—he coaches the hockey team! He’s not even real faculty.”

“Hey,” I reply in mock offense. “My badge says faculty.”

“You know what I mean.” She waves her hand and turns to Dad instructing him to slow down on the egg rolls.

Mick turns her head conspicuously to me, raising a brow and whispering, “She doesn’t know about Linc?”

I shake my head. “Didn’t think giving her all the information was the best idea.” Mick doesn’t know this, but my mom would unknowingly gossip to anyone that would listen that her baby boy finally found someone.

I didn’t know how far that grapevine traveled, so best to leave out all the pertinent information.

“So, how did you two meet?”

We turn our attention back to her, and Mick clears her throat, “Well—”

“I already told you that,” I interrupt, knowing that Mick has been embarrassed enough.

“Yes, you told me the man version of the night which means about eighty percent of the information was left out. I want the woman version.”

“Maybe I don’t want you to know the eighty percent,” I grumble to myself, reaching for my beer on the table and taking a drink.

Mick clears her throat. “I frequent The Old Mill, outside of town, to watch hockey when I don’t feel like being surrounded by students on campus. He strolled in one night, and we bonded over our love of hockey.”

Basically, the version I already told her, I take another long pull of my beer and wait for the grilling to happen.

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