Page 102 of The Coach

I rack the weight, breathing hard. Not in the mood.

“For fucks’ sake, Drew. Get a life.”

“Oh, I have one. You know I’m a very observant guy.” He grins. “And I couldn’t help but notice you tore into the team like Bobby Knight on a bad day.”

I grab a towel, wipe my face. “They needed it.”

“Sure.” He shrugs. “But let’s be honest—this about the game? Or about whatever the hell you left in Riverbend?”

I glare. “You done?”

Drew grins wider. “For now.”

I hit the shower, letting the hot water burn the tension away.

I can’t let this get to me.

I can’t let her get to me.

This job is everything I worked for.

I won’t let it slip.

At work? I’m locked in.

I leave zero room for distractions.

I won’t let them see the cracks.

Chapter Nineteen

JACKSON

I toss my keys onto the counter, grab a cold beer from the fridge, and sink onto the couch, stretching my legs out in front of me. ESPN is on in the background, but I’m not really watching. My mind is still stuck in the weight room, still replaying film in my head, still forcing myself to lock in.

My phone buzzes.

Ivy: Made it through the day. How’s your night?

I stare at the screen, my thumb hovering over the keyboard. I could text back. I could keep it light, casual.

But fuck that.

Instead, I hit Call.

She picks up on the second ring.

“Oh. Hey,” she says.

“Hey.”

There’s a slight pause, like she wasn’t expecting me to actually call.

“I didn’t think you were a phone call guy,” she teases.

I grin, taking a sip of my beer. “I’m an old-fashioned guy.”

“Oh yeah?” Her voice is playful. “What generation are you again?”

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