Page 101 of Waiting for Her

“You’re seriously so annoying sometimes!”

“Why? Because I know you better than you know yourself?”

She huffs but can’t contain her smile. “Well, aside from thinking I have a sex swing.”

“You can show me your stash tonight to celebrate the big win.”

She frames my face with her hands and looks back and forth between my eyes. “Go get ‘em, Coach.”

Grady

“Thanks, Mac. Ican’t tell you what this means to me.”

Coach Mac grins then reaches out his meaty palm to shake my hand. His hands were always so huge to me. I look down at where we’re joined, expecting it to still feel that way. I’m reverted right back to my senior year in high school when he congratulated me on signing with my dream school to play college football.

I shake my head and blow out a breath, looking out over the field I called home for four years in high school. The field I once thought I was the king of, had the world at my fingertips. If I’d known less than ten years later I wouldn’t be playing football anymore, but coaching it, and for the very same team who scouted me when I played here… well, I don’t know how I would have reacted. Timing is a funny thing. When people say things like “It’ll happen when it’s right,” at the time I usually want to deck them.

It’s true though. Bri and I, our timing wasn’t right six years ago. I hate to admit but I think it would have been my fault, too. I had never been denied anything. My life wasn’t easy, per se, but it definitely wasn’t a struggle.

“A lot has changed, hasn’t it, Grady?”

“It has, sir. But I wouldn’t be here today if it hadn’t been for you. You and Bales. You’re an inspiration for me. For how I lead my team. I can’t thank you enough.”

“You know, when you used to run onto this field, I watched in awe. It seems to me you have it in your head that you were this cocky kid, but you were so far from it. You weren’t cocky, you were confident. There’s a difference. Your confidence is what led you to where you are today. I’m proud I had a small part of it, but even more proud to see you’ve become someone I can only hope my grandkids play for one day.”

“It would be an honor,” I tell him honestly.

“You do right by her, Grady. I always knew you’d come full circle. When things went south after it took so long for you two to finally get your shit together, man, it was hard to see from the outside.”

“It wasn’t a picnic from the inside, either,” I admit.

“I bet not. She was your biggest fan. Every Friday night, we knew exactly where she was sitting because we would watch you look for her. Did you know she would yell plays to me?” He chuckles when I smile. I’m not the least bit surprised. She texts me during games, telling me what to do. “Yeah, if she thought we were running the wrong play or if we were down, she’d scream the loudest, tell me what I was doing wrong.”

The thought of it warms my heart. “It got to the point where she would text me in the middle of the game. Bitch of it is, she was always right. Never seen a girl so dedicated to the game before. I suppose you had a little bit of a hand in that, though,” he murmurs. He’s staring off into the stands, lost in his memories.

“Nah, she loved the game before I came along. You have to know, though, she always thought a lot of you. I always hoped you’d be coaching my kids one day.”

“You’d better get on with that part of your life quickly then, boy. I don’t know how many more seasons I have left.”

“Who knows, maybe by then, I’ll be tired of coaching over there and want to come back to my roots.”

“Always welcome, but I’m not holding my breath,” he chuckles, slapping me on the back. I’m not either. At one point, it would have been a dream come true. Now, though, my dreams have shifted. “Now, go finish this business once and for all.”

“Thanks again for letting me come here tonight.”

“Glad to be a part of it. Long overdue, if you ask me.”

“Can’t argue with you there.”

I watch as he lumbers slowly across the field, leaning down to a couple electrical cords on the ground and plugging them in to a strip before raising a hand in the air, giving me a thumb’s up. Twinkle lights illuminate all around us, up the goal posts, along the benches on the sidelines, up and down each yard line.

When I told my mom what I was planning, she enlisted my dad to bring over the scissor lift to raise me up to get the lights all the way to the top. She also tried to go waaaaaay overboard (shocker). Reining her in wasn’t easy, but I gently reminded her it wasn’t about her, in a nice way, of course. When she mentioned something about a marching band and cheerleaders, though, even my dad blew the whistle, calling a time out.

Bri has never been an over-the-top kind of girl. Hell, I met her because she wanted to hang with the guys. Mom meant well, her ideas coming from her heart, but no one knows my girl like I do.

I’ve been planning this day since I was eighteen. No way am I going to let anyone—even my mom who I love second to only one other person—take over.

I look up to the press box above the stands. Cole gives me a bunch of hand signals rather than a simple thumb’s up like a normal person would. Then he reaches down, lifts Anderson and raises a tiny hand, giving himself a high five with Anderson’s fist.

---