Coach, p.18
Coach, page 18
Maybe adding a girlfriend was too much.
“How about we try to make cookies together? You and me?” I asked. “I kind of want to try it to see if we can do it.”
“Okay.” Her voice gave nothing away.
Was she disappointed I wasn’t inviting Millie? Was the reason she’d asked for Millie to come over because she wanted cookies?
Was it this hard for all dads to read their daughters?
The minivan ahead of us reached the curb and the sliding door flew open, two kids piling out and waving before they headed for the playground.
My time with Joey was up this morning. When the van was gone, I took its place and twisted to give my daughter a smile. “Love you, princess.”
“Love you too, Daddy.” She unbuckled, grabbed her backpack and stretched forward to kiss my cheek. Then she was gone, rushing to join a group of girls on the sidewalk.
“Have a good day,” I murmured, then left the school and drove to work.
The parking lot was already crowded by the time I pulled in and headed for the fieldhouse. I grinned when I passed Millie’s Kia, parked just one row away from where it had been Saturday night.
The memory of her in the back seat of my truck made my cock twitch behind my zipper.
We’d been explosive together. I craved her with every cell in my body.
Maybe I wasn’t ready to make a big announcement to Joey, but that didn’t mean I was letting Millie go.
Not again. We had shit to work out. We’d be keeping this a secret at work. For a time, we’d be keeping this a secret at home. But that was temporary. We’d figure this out. Somehow.
The familiar scent of cement and bleach greeted me when I walked inside. As I headed for my office, my to-go cup of coffee in hand, I breathed in the start of a new week.
About half of my staff had beat me into the office. A couple of the other coaches had kids too so they were probably also making the drop-off loop. We’d have a busy week, rehashing the game, watching film and tweaking plays. This morning, there was a large department meeting with each of the head coaches to start discussing budgets for the next school year since planning took place twelve months in advance.
I flipped on the lights in my office, another grin forming on my mouth when I moved behind the desk.
Not a day would go by that I wouldn’t think about Millie spread on its surface. That I wouldn’t picture her perfect body, naked and trembling, beneath my touch. That I wouldn’t see my come leaking down her thighs.
She’d asked me to keep my distance at work, but fuck it. I picked up my desk phone and dialed her extension.
It rang twice before she answered. “Hello.”
“Hi.” Yeah, definitely should have called her yesterday. I’d missed that voice. “You okay?”
“I’m, um . . . yes.”
“Still freaking out?”
“A little,” she admitted.
“We’ll figure it out. Promise.”
She blew out a long breath. “Okay.”
A knock came at my door.
Kurt walked in, wearing a tight smile as he closed the door behind him, clearly not caring that I was on the damn phone. What the hell? Was he like this with everyone?
“I’ll let you go,” I told Millie.
“Bye.”
With the phone back in its cradle, I leaned back in my chair. “Morning.”
“Ford.” He took a seat across from my desk.
“What’s up?”
“I, uh . . .” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I just got a strange call. It was about Saturday.”
Oh. Fuck. No.
I hadn’t noticed anyone else in the parking lot. Or maybe someone had overheard us in here? Shit. Shit. Shit.
She hadn’t said anything on the phone. She hadn’t sounded upset. Was Kurt going to go to her office next? Millie was going to flip out.
“What about Saturday?” Maybe I could deny it. Maybe if Millie denied it too, we’d be fine. And next time, a hell of a lot more careful.
“Something about excessive drinking at the event.”
It took a moment for his words to register. “Hold up. Say that again?”
“You were seen drinking with Coach Greely. Apparently, in excess.”
“Is this a joke?” What the fuck was going on?
Kurt shook his head. “I’m afraid not.”
I held up a finger as my nostrils flared. “I had one shot with Toren. One. And other than water, that was the only thing I had to drink at the event. An event held at. A. Bar.” If they had expected it to be a dry function, then maybe they should have chosen a different location.
Kurt held up his hands. “I’m just relaying information.”
“And I assume you won’t tell me who lodged this complaint either?” Was this like the previous grievance about Joey? Was this really Kurt’s issue?
“It’s confidential.”
Fucking confidential. If this was real, the coward bitching about my perfectly acceptable behavior was going to get an ass-chewing if I ever figured out who it was.
My nostrils flared. “What did you say? To this confidential complaint?”
“Look, Ford, this is a unique year.”
Meaning Kurt hadn’t defended me. Hell, he’d been standing feet away all night. He knew goddamn well that I hadn’t been excessively drinking.
“You’re the head coach,” he said.
“Your point?” Venom dripped from my voice.
Kurt dropped his gaze, swallowing hard. “We’re just trying to fly under the radar this year.”
And apparently having a shot of tequila with Toren wasn’t under the radar.
“Fine,” I clipped. We told the players absolutely no public drinking. At this morning’s staff meeting, I’d tell the coaches the same. “Anything else?”
“Sorry, Ford. I really am. But I wanted you to know.” Kurt shook his head, standing from his chair. Bad news delivered, he headed for the door. “Oh, and uh, great win this weekend. Great way to start the season. Weather is supposed to be perfect this weekend. I’m looking forward to being on the sidelines with you guys.”
I had nothing nice to say at the moment so I kept my mouth shut, waiting until he was gone.
What the hell? How could anyone who’d been in that bar say I’d been excessively drinking? The complaint about Joey coming to work this summer had pissed me right the fuck off, but this? This felt a lot like I had a target on my back.
I shot out of my chair, shoving it away so hard that it rolled and slammed into the wall. Ignoring it, I stormed out of my office and jogged to the second floor.
When I reached Millie’s office, she was in her chair, fingers flying over the keyboard. She spotted me and froze, her eyes widening as they glanced past me.
“Can we visit about the weight room schedule?” I spoke loud enough that anyone listening would hear.
“Oh, um, sure.”
I closed the door behind me, then paced from it to the corner of her desk, too fucking pissed to sit. “Kurt has reprimanded me twice in the past two weeks. He claims that someone has complained to him.”
She jerked back. “What?”
“The first was right when school started. Someone was pissed about that day I had Joey with me.”
“Who?”
I shrugged, still pacing. “Kurt won’t tell me. It’s confidential.”
She rolled her eyes. “It was probably him. He’s weird about kids. What was the second complaint?”
“That I was drinking excessively at the bar on Saturday night.”
“What?” Her voice was so loud she flinched. “No, you weren’t. I was watching you all night long. You had one shot with Toren.”
“Exactly. I—” My feet stopped moving. “You were watching me? Because every time I looked at you, you pretended like I didn’t exist.”
She lifted a shoulder. “I was trying not to make it obvious. Speaking of, you need to work on that or everyone in Mission is going to know we’re, um . . . you know.”
Yeah. I knew. “You sound like Toren.” I chuckled, some of my anger deflating. I rounded the corner of her desk, bent low and took her mouth for a chaste kiss. “I’ll try to stop staring.”
Her cheeks flushed, her eyes flicking to the door. “People can’t find out, Ford.”
“I know, baby. We’ll keep it a secret.” At least the complaint hadn’t been about Millie. As much as it burned to know that someone was watching my every move, at least she was safe.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
I kissed her again, licking her soft pout, then went back to pacing before I did something reckless, like break in her desk this time. “Who would do this? Let’s assume Kurt really did get two complaints. Who would want me in trouble?”
“I have no idea. I mean, the event was at a bar.”
“Exactly.”
“There’s no rule that coaches can’t drink. I mean, it’s always been implied to keep it under control, but I see nothing wrong with what you did.”
I rubbed a hand over my jaw. “This feels a lot like someone is gunning for my job.”
“Who?”
“Not a damn clue.” My gut twisted. Could it have been one of the other coaches? Another department employee? “Could this be Kurt? Maybe he has a problem with my daughter and me drinking. But why wouldn’t he just tell me that?”
“If you figure him out, please pass it along,” she muttered. “He’s . . . Kurt.”
Footsteps and dulled conversation came from the hallway outside her door as people passed.
“I’ll get out of here.” I gave her a smile, then opened the door, again talking loud enough for people to hear. “Thanks for the help, Millie.”
“Anytime. Great game on Saturday.”
“See ya around.” With a wave, I headed down the hall. As I passed cubicle walls on the way to the stairs, Kurt stood at the mouth of the break room.
His eyes were locked on me, and I had no doubt that he’d seen exactly where I’d just been.
Millie had been hell bent on hiding this from the start. She was borderline panicked about keeping this hidden.
At first, I’d thought she was just being paranoid. That she’d taken that no-fraternization policy too literally.
But now, with two bullshit complaints and a boss who hovered like a hornet at a picnic, well . . .
Maybe she was onto something.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
MILLIE
Beyond the Stadium Club’s floor-to-ceiling windows, the Wildcats were crushing the opposing team, fifty-six to three. I actually felt bad for the other coaches and players. Well, sort of.
I really liked it when we won.
It would have been the perfect Saturday, other than the fact that I’d been trapped inside. Oh, what I’d give to be outside with the other fans, enjoying the sunshine and riding the high of impending victory. Instead, I’d only caught brief glimpses of the game in between conversations with boosters and alums.
“Millie.” Fingertips grazed my elbow. Familiar fingertips. Though not the fingertips I’d been dreaming about all week.
“Hey, Adrian.” I pivoted away from his touch, taking a step back because he’d come too close for two people who were supposed to be friends and colleagues. “How’s it going?”
He sighed, not missing the distance I’d just put between us. “Fine. Is there a reason you haven’t been returning my texts?”
“I’ve been busy.” A half-truth. This was not the time or place for the full truth.
We needed to have a long conversation. I needed to remind him that we were over, that the daily texts needed to stop.
At first, I’d responded when he’d asked me about my day or how I was doing. The few times he’d asked me out, I’d just said I was busy. Except lately, there’d been an urgency to his texts. An insistence. Every day, he asked me out to lunch or dinner. Yesterday, he’d stopped by my office again to take me out for a drink after work.
I’d declined. I’d declined over and over, yet here he was, persistent as always.
Was that why we’d dated for so long? Because he’d worn me down? Because I’d been a coward and it had been too exhausting to constantly say no?
“Busy? Too busy to return a quick text?” Adrian shook his head. “What the hell is going on with you lately?”
“I’ve just had a lot on my mind.”
“Like what? What happened that you can’t confide in me anymore?”
Our breakup. That was what had happened.
“I’m trying here, Millie. I thought we were in a good place. Working toward something. What changed?”
Oh, Adrian. Nothing had changed. And everything had changed. All it would take was me saying no. That I was interested in someone else. A quick, brutal rejection and this conversation would be over. But I’d never been good at brutal.
“Listen, how about we meet up later? Talk when there aren’t so many people around.”
He sighed. “Yeah. Okay.”
“Find me after the game.”
“All right.” He touched my arm again, a sweet caress that had once made me feel special. But today, it took effort not to jerk my arm away.
The only man I wanted touching me was currently standing on the football field.
“See you later.” I waited until Adrian walked away, then turned toward the window and let out a big breath that fogged the glass. “Ugh.”
My eyes drifted to Ford.
My heart skipped.
Something had happened on the previous play that had caused an uproar. I’d missed it, talking to Adrian.
Ford’s arms flew out at the sides before he shook his head, clearly pissed.
Boos filled the stadium.
“Offsides? Are you kidding me?” A man behind me scoffed. “These refs.”
Ford appeared on the jumbotron, the camera cataloging his reaction. But other than the immediate response, he went right back to steady, stoic Ford.
We hadn’t spoken this week. Not since he’d come to my office on Monday.
I shouldn’t have missed him. But I missed him.
Was it because of those complaints that he’d kept his distance?
Who would do that? Nothing Ford had done was outside what other coaches had done. Our dance team coach brought her daughters to practice all the time. No one had ever been bothered. And the fact that someone had accused him of excessive drinking was ludicrous. In all my time with Ford at college parties, I’d only ever seen him drunk once.
Everyone, especially Kurt, was extremely cautious at the moment. But there was an undercurrent of malice with these complaints that had plagued me all week. Like someone was intentionally out to get Ford fired.
At least the team was winning. No one had expected the Wildcats to do so well off the bat this season.
As much as it sucked to admit, college coaches were rarely fired if they had a winning record. Unless . . . there was a scandal.
Like the football coach fucking an assistant athletic director in his office.
My cheeks flamed thinking about last Saturday.
No matter what happened today, I would not repeat that mistake. After the game, I was going straight home. I didn’t trust myself not to venture to Ford’s office again, so I’d even put my car key in my pocket instead of leaving it on my desk like usual, just so there was no reason for me to set foot in the fieldhouse.
The Wildcat defense held the other team on a desperate fourth-down attempt. As the offense jogged onto the field, led by Rush Ramsey, Ford walked over to Toren, the two talking about something with their heads bent together. Then Toren nodded and walked away, leaving Ford alone again.
My mouth watered.
In college, I’d thought the sexiest sight in the world was Ford dressed in his royal blue and silver uniform. Those pants, molded to his ass? Perfection. Except I hadn’t known what I’d been missing.
Ford as the head coach, confident and in control, was practically erotic. Waves of authority rolled off his broad frame, rolling all the way from his side of the stadium to mine, permeating the glass and sending a shiver down my spine.
Okay, so maybe I’d venture into the fieldhouse after all. It would be rude not to at least say congratulations, right?
Watch the game, Millie. Not the coach.
I shook my head, locking my gaze with Rush just as he threw the ball toward an open receiver.
“Touchdown,” I called before the receiver even reached the end zone.
Rush had been flawless today—at least during the plays I’d been able to watch. Was Faye watching today? Or was she avoiding everything football? Were they keeping her pregnancy a secret?
I hoped, for her sake, that her secret wasn’t eating her alive.
Mine was starting to gnaw at me.
What were we going to do? If Ford and I wanted to have an actual relationship, we couldn’t hide forever. Was this even going to last? If it did, how was I going to keep my job? How was he going to keep coaching?
Kurt wouldn’t make an exception. My gaze drifted to my boss, also standing on the sidelines. He’d been hovering closer to Ford at the beginning of the game, but Ford must have said something because Kurt had latched on to Parks instead after halftime.
What happened if he decided coaching at TSU wasn’t all it was cracked up to be and he left again? What if he decided Joey was better off somewhere else? Did Joey even want her dad to have a girlfriend? Would Sienna poison her toward me?
Oh, God, Sienna. I’d thought the day she’d moved away I’d never see that woman again. If I stayed with Ford, I’d have to face her again.
I grimaced.
Why was I stressing about this already? We’d only had sex twice. That was hardly a relationship.
But what if . . .
What if this time around, my dream came true?
I sighed, my eyes glued to Ford again.
He was perfect on that sideline. He was made to lead a team. As the crowd celebrated yet another touchdown, Ford smiled and clapped. My heart tumbled.
Once upon a time, I’d dreamed of kissing him after a win. It had been a fantasy in college. A dream I’d always known wouldn’t come true but I’d dreamed it anyway.
