“It… happened.”
Coach rubs a hand over his face, thumb pressing briefly into his temple like he’s working through a headache that’s been brewing all morning.
When he looks back at me, there’s frustration there, but it’s layered with something steadier underneath.
“She’s been here for a few weeks,” he says quietly. “A. Few. Weeks.”
“I know.” The word comes out low, weighted. “I didn’t plan it. I didn’t go looking for it, either. I didn’t even realize how close to the edge I was until it tipped.”
He watches me for a long moment, eyes searching my face like he’s trying to decide whether I’m being honest, or whether I even know myself well enough to be.
“This isn’t some careless mistake,” he says. “You’ve claimed her, Beau. You’ve claimed her, and she’sstaff. She’s an omega. She’sliving in your house.”
“I’m aware,” I reply, gritting my teeth instinctively. “And that’s exactly why I’m standing here instead of pretending it didn’t happen.”
That earns me another look. It’s different, this one: assessing, but alsopersonal.
Coach sighs and lowers himself onto the bench across from me. The room feels smaller like this, the way it used to when I was younger and he’d sit me down after a bad penalty or a worse decision.
“I knew something was coming the moment she walked into this place,” he admits. “You don’t miss things like that when you’ve been around as long as I have. I just hoped I had more time before instincts got tangled up in it.”
“They didn’t just get tangled,” I say. “They settled.”
His brow furrows, but he doesn’t interrupt.
“I spent most of my life shutting that part of myself down,” I continue, the words pulling loose before I can stop them. “Didn’t have the luxury of figuring out what I wanted, just what needed doing. Someone had to hold things together, and it wasn’t going to be my dad.”
Coach’s jaw tightens.
“You grew up fast,” he says. “Too fast.”
“I never learned how to trust my instincts,” I say. “Just how to control them.”
He nods slowly. “Control’s not the same thing as understanding.”
“No,” I agree. “It’s not.”
Silence stretches between us, heavy, but not uncomfortable.
Finally, he asks the question I know has been sitting on his tongue from the start.
“She wanted this?”
“Yes.” No hesitation. “Fully. Clearly. I would never—”
“I know,” he cuts in gently. “I didn’t ask because I doubt you: I asked because I care about her. And because I care about you.”
That lands harder than I expect.
“And areyouhappy?” he adds.
The question catches me off guard. Not because I don’t know the answer, but because no oneeverasks me that.
“Yes,” I say after a beat. “Kinda terrified, if I’m fully honest, but… yes.”
Coach leans back, studying the ceiling for a moment before exhaling.
“Alright. Then we can work with that.”
