Page 160 of The Coach

I don’t know what will happen next.

But right now?

I don’t need to.

“By the way, I told my parents you’re coming.”

“Oh, did you? And what exactly did you tell them about me?”

“I told them you work in sports.”

Jackson chuckles, deep and hearty. “That I work insports? What the hell, Ivy? Now they’re going to think I’m a cashier at Dick’s Sporting Goods or something.”

I grin, biting my lip. “Well, guess you’re going to have to come here and set the record straight.”

He laughs again. “You watching the game this Sunday?”

“Of course I will. I can’t miss a game now that I’m…dating a coach.”

“Maybe I’ll turn you into a football girl after all.”

I grin. “We’ll see about that. I’m not making any promises.”

So I guess wearedating, then.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

IVY

I’m curled up on the couch, a bowl of chips in my lap, trying to stayrelaxedas the Stallions take the field against New York. Carl is at his usual spot—armchair reclined, remote in hand, completelylocked inon the game. Mom is half-watching, half-scrolling on her phone.

The announcers' voices echo through the living room.

“The Stallions have been under a lot of pressure this week—not just from a tough New York defense, but from some off-field drama. The team’s dealing with major distractions, including wide receiver Travis Carter’s alleged paternity scandal. You have to wonder if all the personal turmoil is starting to affect their performance.”

My stomach twists.

Iknewthis was going to come up, but hearing it out loud makes me feel…exposed. I shift in my seat, staring at the screen.

Carl lets out a grunt, shaking his head. “Damn shame. You gotta be smarter than that.”

Ido notreact. I just dip a tortilla chip in queso, trying to look completely normal, even as my phone vibrates in my lap.

Jackson: You watching?

I bite my lip, quickly typing back.

Me: Of course. What kind of football girl would I be if I wasn’t?

Carl leans forward, eyes locked on the TV. “That new coach though? I like him. Knox. He’s no bullshit. The guys respect him.”

My fingers freeze over my screen.

I swallow. “Yeah?”

Carl nods, chewing thoughtfully. “He’s intense. But that’s what we need. A guy who’s gonnatake charge.” He dips his chip into the queso and looks at me, casual as anything. “What do you think about him?”

Oh. No.

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