“You being an asshole? Yeah, it will.” She picked up her things and shoved them into a dark green backpack. “I should quit. I really should. There’s tons of other things to do.”
“I won’t be as much of an asshole.”There.That was truce. I held out my hand, a huge gesture on my part, but she stared at it. She made no move to meet my hand and worry bubbled up. “I was out of line.”
“I’ll say.” She sucked in her cheek and finally met my hand. “I don’t respect you or like you. At all. And if I could quit and live with myself, I would. But I don’t want to let the kids down.”
“You’ll stay?” Something resembling hope went through me, but that would have been stupid. Why did I care?
“Yes.” She released my hand and pulled out her forsaken folder. She wore her fanny pack, this time with black and purple leggings that gave a great view from behind. Fiona had a fine ass. “I made a practice plan again.”
Thank god.“Naturally.”
She narrowed her eyes before shoving it at me. “Youcan run practice today, then. I’ll watch and be as unhelpful as possible.”
No. Shit. No.“Wait. We can do your plan today. You already made it.”
“I don’t need you to mock me. You know my weakness.” She paused and her gaze went to whatever was in the backpack. “So, we’ll do it your way.”
“Fiona,” I raised my voice. “I’m not mocking you. You ran practice decently yesterday.”
“Decently? Wow. That must’ve hurt coming off your mouth.” She laughed and took the clipboard out of my hands. “Fine. I’ll run it even though I know you’re laughing behind your glasses. Assholes like you don’t scare me.”
No, but whatever is in that journal does.I didn’t say it, though. I buried my asshole comments and attempted to not piss her off. It was easier to busy myself with prepping the field. That way, I didn’t have to watch my tongue and comment on her asinine ideas. She wanted to do a team bonding? We were together almost every day for four months. We had no time for bonding.Psh.
Women—well, besides Cheryl and Quinn—were nuts.
I raked the mound and home plate while Fiona talked to herself in the dugout. Despite her toned body, she was an odd duck. Was she singing to herself, too?Jesus.Garth arrived first, running toward Fiona with a grin. “Hey, CFD! I get to say the cheer today, right?”
“You betcha, kid. Got any ideas?”
“No. Do you?” He plopped on the bench next to her.
“Boys drool, girls rule?”
“Ha. Nice try. Boys are from Mars, girls are from Jupiter.”
“Hey, hey now. Girls arenotstupider. That is not the way to get ladies,” she scolded him in a way that wasn’t insulting. No. The kid grinned and nodded.Great.I’d thought GT and I would be buds. Now he preferred Fiona. Kid didn’t know shit.
“Hey, GT. How do you get ladies?”
I about choked on my own spit. This fourteen-year-old kid should not have been worried about ladies but, then again, I remembered what I had been doing at that age—maybe the kid wasn’t half-bad. “Well, Garth, compliments help.”
“Like telling them they smell nice?”
I laughed. “That’s a start, yeah.”
“Are you going to listen to this clown, or take it from a woman?” Fiona butted in. I glared at her. What would she know about what women want? She was crazy. She waited for the kid to respond and I prayed he gave her shit. But he didn’t.
“Yeah! Help me, CFD. I have this girl in my class and, well, she doesn’t know I exist.” He closed his eyes, rivaling a middle-aged man going through a crisis. Damn. I liked the kid, even if he preferred her company over mine.
I paid them no attention when more kids arrived. Half the kids thought Fiona walked on water, where the other half were too shy to talk to her. Damn kids had a crush or something. I didn’t see it—she wore a bulky sweatshirt and an old baseball cap that had seen better days. But I preferred a different type of woman. Like the MILF.
“Gideon. Did you hear that?”
Shit. Fiona had asked me something. “Hear what?”
“When can the kids see you throw?”
“Soon. Not today,” I said with clenched teeth. The mention of throwing had my body tighten in anticipation of pain. People didn’t realize that throwing used all parts of the body when done correctly. I could lob the ball without putting pressure on my leg, but it wouldn’t impress the kids. “You ready to get started, Coach?”
