Page 30 of Shiver

It’ll all be fine.

I hear a knock on my door, and excitement suddenly rushes through me.

“Thank god for overnight shipping.”

A middle-aged man stands on my porch, holding my package.

“Hey, thanks so much.”

“No problem. Have a great day,” he tells me, handing me the package before heading back to his van.

I tear into the package the moment I’ve closed my door, and a little squeal of delight leaves my lungs at seeing the gorgeous illustrated cover in my hands. I’m so glad this is the book they selected for this month’s book club. I’ve had it on my TBR since before it was even released.

Relaxing back into my couch cushions and tossing my legs up, I settle in to readResilient Love.

From the get-go, I’m dragged right into the prologue.

I tear through the locker room, fists balled as I make my way to Coach’s office. Yanking the door open, it slams against the wall at my entrance. Coach leans back in his chair, his head supported by his forearms as he eyes me with a smug smirk stretched across his lips.

"What the fuck is this about?" I challenge.

"What ever are you talking about?" he asks, his tone dripping in sarcasm.

"You know good and well what I'm referring to."

At that, he sits up in his chair, wiping the smirk clean from his face. He levels me with a flat expression before saying, "You want my job when I retire. Do this for me, and it's yours."

The wind is knocked from my lungs, a rebuttal on the tip of my tongue but it never makes its way out of my mouth.

Coach Auclair relaxes back into his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. "I don't do ultimatums, so the job is yours regardless of whether you accept the position or not, but I really hope you will. I plan to retire in the next two years and I don't want to have to worry about what I plan to do with this team."

I can barely think past the throb of my heartbeat against all of my pulse points as my mind works to figure out what his intentions are. "What's so special about this women's football team that I, of all people, am being requested as their interim coach? And why would you suggest me in the first place? I haven't competed in a football match in years."

Coach Auclair knows all about my painful past with football, and if that weren't reason enough not to include me in whatever plan he has, I’m not sure what is. This isn't adding up.

He lets out a sigh, placing his hands on the desk in front of him. He squeezes his eyes shut, and pinches the bridge of his nose, steadying himself.

"It's my daughter's team."

My brows scrunch together. "I'm still not understanding," I answer plainly.

His eyes finally open, and the pained expression chiselled into his features has my heart clenching in my chest. I know desperation when I see it, it’s an emotion I’ve grown entirely too familiar with.

"My daughter's team has won the National Championship the last two years. Elise plans to make it onto the Olympic team, and that can't happen without a coach. Her previous one was caught in a scandal and no one wants to take the team on right now because they don't want their name involved."

Shaking my head, I ask, "What kind of scandal would deter potentially hundreds of available coaches, especially if the team is as good as you're suggesting?"

"It was with the players,” he reluctantly admits, rubbing the space between his brows where the skin is wrinkled, his lips pulling taut. “The coach was sleeping with the players."

A chill runs down my spine as his words sink in. I blink, the weight of them pressing against my chest, and slowly nod, my mind racing as I trace the quiet tension in the air. My fingers curl into a fist at my side, but I don’t move, standing here, assessing the shift in the space between us. "And you think it's a good idea to send one of your players, who hasn't played football in years and has definitely never coached, to act as interim coach, in the middle of the season? I'm genuinely curious where the hell this idea came from."

"I can't say I trust you to keep it in your pants, okay?” He rolls his eyes. “But at least you aren’t old enough to be one of these girls’ fathers. That said, I'd really prefer it if you kept your dick to yourself."

"Okay," I answer slowly, "let's say I agree to this, how do we plan to make this work with my practice and game schedule?"

"I'll rework practice times to be immediately before or after the Blaze’s practices and I've already arranged to have all of ours on their campus so you don't have to travel between locations. They're a sport oriented school with a lot of money. Their facility is as nice, if not nicer, than ours. It won't be a downgrade. Besides, their season is nearly halfway through."

Shaking my head, I release a grunt. "Fine," I tell him, turning to leave.

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