Page 205 of The Coach

Guess I’m going to brunch.

And maybe?

Maybe it’s time to figure out exactly how the hell Jackson and I are going to handle this.

Chapter Forty

IVY

I step out of the hotel, sunglasses shielding my tired eyes, my dress swishing around my legs in the Miami heat.

Jackson left hours ago for pre-game meetings, but not before kissing me breathless and making me promise to have fun today.

Fun? With my entire life being dissected on national television?

Yeah. Right.

I spot Cassie and Reagan at a swanky rooftop brunch spot, perched at a table with an incredible ocean view.

Cassie is aggressively stirring her mimosa.

Reagan, cool as ever, is sipping hers like nothing phases her.

As soon as I sit down, Cassie levels me with a look.

“Well?” she demands.

I blink. “Well, what?”

She gestures wildly. “Are you ready to be America’s Most Talked About Baby Mama?”

I groan, grabbing my orange juice and downing half of it.

Reagan raises a brow. “So, did you and Jackson actually have a plan for when this got out of control? Or were you just gonna wing it?”

I shrink in my seat. “I mean…winging itwaskind of the plan.”

Cassie chokes on her drink. “Jesus Christ, Ivy.”

Reagan sighs, setting down her glass. “Alright, damage control. We need to get ahead of the story.”

“Or,” Cassie interjects, “Jackson could just say ‘fuck it’ and own it.”

Reagan side-eyes her. “I’d like to see that press conference.”

Cassie grins. “Oh, youknowhe’d be hot as hell shutting everyone down.”

I blush, biting my lip. Because yeah.

He really would.

Reagan leans forward. “So, what’s the move, Ivy?”

I chew my lip, staring down at my untouched croissant.

Whatisthe move?

Because Jackson and I?

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