Page 15 of Accidentally Sliding Into A Second Chance

“No, we don’t.” I can hear the smile in his voice. “That would not be a good thing.”

“Well, you enjoy practice and I’ll call you first thing tomorrow. Thank you, Mr. Rossi.”

“Please, call me Tony. And I will be here to go over your aunt’s will and answer any questions. Without distractions.”

“Great. Thanks again. And have a good night.”

Right before I disconnect, I hear a teenager yelling ‘Dad!’ loudly in the background. An image of a teenage girl with red hair pops into my head.

Huffing out a short breath, I shake off whatever that image means.

My relationship with David is strictly business. Even if he does still cause butterflies to swarm in my stomach and has a daughter who’s completely enchanted me.

Chapter Seven

David

“James.”Iwhipmyhead around and see Coach John Abbott, standing in his office door, waving me in. I quickly finish the text I’m typing.

David:

Did you and Duncan get a new dog?

Ava sent a picture of Duncan’s latest creation and his newest taste tester. Though honestly, that pup of mine will eat anything, so I’m not sure how valuable her opinion is. But she does look pretty darn cute sitting there. Her dainty body and sweet face give her the appearance of an angel.

I scoff. That girl is anything but an angel. Last night I left my duffel bag by the door with one of my protein snacks in a zipped pocket. When I grabbed it this morning, I saw the wrapper on the floor, but didn’t notice the hole in the pocket until I put my duffel bag on the bench by my locker.

It’s like having a toddler all over again. Except with teeth, that chews everything in her path.

Ava:

Maybe.

Duncan is working on something special for Scarlett, and Emmy is the inspiration.

Another image comes through, and my mouth falls open at my brother’s creation. Scarlett may not be too far off about pushing him to open his own shop.

“James!” Coach’s voice has a tinge of annoyance to it, tearing my attention from my screen and back to him.

“Sorry, Coach,” I yell, sliding my phone into the locker. I jog over to his office and lean against the door frame.

“Come on in and sit down.” He tips his head toward the chair across from his desk, briefly glancing up from what he’s working on.

I sit and quietly watch him as he finishes up. A memory of me sitting in this exact chair after my first practice back when Fiona died pops in my head. A heaviness I haven’t felt in years presses against my ribcage, and my insides lurch. Lifting my hand to my heart, I try to rub the tightness out.

Where’s this coming from? An image of dark hair and green eyes flashes and the grip tightens.

“Sorry about that.” My hand freezes, and my head snaps up at his words. “I just needed to write that down before I forgot.”

I stiffly nod, my hand still pressed against my sternum.

“I have some news for you…” He stops talking and inspects my face, his eyebrows pulled together in concern. “Are you okay? You look exhausted.”

I rake a hand through my hair and scrub my chin. “It’s been a rough few days.”

“Do you want to tell me about it?” Coach’s expression opens up, and he leans his elbow on his desk. “I know you’ve had a rough few years—”

“No, it’s not that,” I cut him off. “I adopted a dog over the weekend.”

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