Page 214 of The Coach

JACKSON

We take a late night flight back to Chicago, and stay at Jackson’s apartment. Then, late the next morning, the train slows as we roll into Riverbend, the familiar sight of the small-town station coming into view. Ivy stirs against me, stretching slightly as she blinks awake.

“We’re here,” I say, pressing a kiss to her temple.

She lets out a sleepy hum. “Already?”

I chuckle. “That’s what happens when you pass out on me, sweetheart.”

She grins, but before she can fire back, I catch sight of her parents waiting for us on the platform. Carl stands with his hands in his pockets, scanning the train like he’s on a mission, while her mom waves the second she spots us through the window.

We step off, and Carl immediately reaches for Ivy’s bags, muttering about how I shouldn’t be making her carry anything in her “delicate condition.”

“I’m pregnant, not breakable,” Ivy protests, rolling her eyes. “That’s the last plane trip for a while though.”

Carl just grunts, ignoring her, and I don’t fight him on it. The man clearly loves her, and hell, I get it.

We load into their car, the drive through town quiet but comfortable. Ivy’s mom makes small talk, asking how the trip was, while Carl turns to me at a stoplight and says, “You still gonna coach next week like nothing happened?”

I smirk. “Yep. That’s the job, isn’t it?”

He grunts approvingly. “Good.”

When we finally pull up to the house, Ivy goes still beside me.

Our house.

The one she’s been dreaming about since she was a kid. The one I just happily put alotof money into making a reality.

“Wow,” she whispers.

I watch her take it in—eyes wide, lips parted slightly, hands gripping the strap of her bag like she’s afraid to let go.

Carl parks, and before Ivy can even move, I reach for the door handle. “Stay here.”

She frowns. “Jackson, I?—”

“Stay.” I shoot her a look before stepping out, coming around to her side.

I open her door, reaching for her hand, helping her out like she’s some kind of princess.

She huffs. “You don’thaveto baby me.”

I grin. “I know. I justliketo.”

Carl coughs pointedly behind me. “We got a bed set up. Some furniture came in already, but it’s still pretty empty.”

“That’s fine,” Ivy says quickly, squeezing my hand. “That’s perfect. We can add as we go!”

We step inside, the air in the house cool, still smelling faintly of fresh paint and new wood. It’s empty, echoing slightly, but it already feelsright.

Home.

Carl and Ivy’s mom help us set down some things, giving Ivy a few last-minute instructions before Carl clasps my shoulder and says, “If you do something stupid, I’ll kill you.”

I smirk. “Noted.”

They leave, and suddenly, it’s just the two of us.

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