“Of course you do.” He frowned. “When have you ever accepted defeat, Char?”
When it came to you, I almost said. Somehow, I found superhero strength and kept my mouth shut against that little comment. Besides my emotional business with him, I never accepted defeat. I went after what I wanted. Always. I lived with moxie and a kind heart.
“Okay, okay, okay,” I said. My pulse raced. “All this talk has me desperate to get this job. I want it so badly, and if I don’t get it, it’ll crush me.”
“What’s your other option then? Giving up before you have a chance?” He shook his head, his voice getting deeper, more passionate. “You can’t control the outcome of a game, or an interview, because there are so many external factors. But what can you control? You. How much you try. How you leave everything on the field and walk away knowing you gave it your all. You play your heart out. You interview with everything you’ve got.”
“You’re being awfully nice.” I laughed nervously. “I’m not used to this.”
“That’s what you get when we’re friends. The truth.” He sighed, leaned back against his bench, and took another long drink. “One thing we have in common that none of our friends have is our experience being D1 athletes. That’s a lifestyle that is hard to compare unless you’ve lived it. And we have. So I know, from that experience alone, you got this.”
“I might need to call you every day until the interview to boost up my confidence.” I smiled, but it was shaky. “I feelbolder now, but when I head into work Monday, the guys will snicker or say something rude.”
“You call me anytime you need, alright? I’m sorry you didn’t know that before.” His face was set in serious lines as his voice hardened. “Now, did you bring your laptop? I want to see what you have.”
“Garrett sent me some feedback that—”
“He doesn’t know shit.” He stared me down, daring me to argue.
Garrett didn’t have as much coaching experience as Hayden. Garrett was a wizard at editing and wordsmithing, not the content though. It was practical to have Hayden help me too. I nodded. “Operation Kick Chad’s Ass is underway, OKCA, if you will.”
Hayden barked out a laugh, the sound like a warm hug to my soul. His eyes sparkled with amusement, and for one final second, I let myself imagine what it’d be like to laugh with him all the time. Then I focused on the fact that he was helping me. I gave him two thumbs-up. “Let me get my laptop and then we can get to work.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
HAYDEN
Two hours later, it was clear as hell to me why I stayed away from Charlotte. Everything she did captivated me. Her intelligence and passion, the way she laughed at herself but refused to back down from her strengths. She had the confidence I wanted Gwen to have in this world.
A memory of Charlotte holding Gwen came to mind, the two of them sitting together and singing a song. Charlotte had volunteered to watch her so I could coach an away game, and when I walked in the next morning and found them all cuddled up, my knees almost gave out. My baby girl loved Charlotte, and seeing them like that made me think about what life could be like with her in it. That fantasy barged in unwarranted from time to time, but being around Charlotte brought it back to the top of my mind.
“Hop, hey, I rambled too much, didn’t I?” Charlotte scrunched her nose, shaking her head at herself. “I guess I didn’t need to get too into the details about the new scoreboard.”
“No, you’re fine.” I scrubbed my face with my free hand. “Thinking about Gwen.”
“You miss her.” Her face softened. “You’re such a good dad, Hayden. It’s one of my favorite things about you.” She nudged her knee against mine under the table. “I don’t have a lot of friends with children, but every time you speak about her, your face lights up.”
“She’s the best part of my life.”
“And she knows it. That’s wonderful.” She beamed at me, like my love for my daughter made her happy. When Charlotte looked at me like I personally hung the stars for her, it made my stomach ache with want, with the need to kiss her.
“Back to your idea,” I said, my voice scratchy. We were here to talk about the interview. I would do whatever I could to make sure Charlotte had the best chance of earning this. I lived and breathed the boys’ club circle. I hated it while knowing I benefited from the politics. One of my professional goals was to acknowledge the unfair practices and call them out when possible.
It was one of the many reasons I had hired a female assistant coach. Silvia Reyes was my second-in-command, someone I trusted implicitly and the person I’d risk my career for. Hiring her made shock waves in our small-town college community. But she was the best. End of story. She worked harder than anyone I had ever met and was game to weather the storm.
The best part about all of this? The guys on the team didn’t give a shit. They respected her knowledge of the game, how she spoke to them, and how she pushed them tobe better athletes on and off the field. Respect is earned, not given.
Fuck, this got me fired up. I hired Silvia two years ago, and things have finally started to calm down, but hashing this out with Char reminded me of the shitstorm it had caused.
“Why do you want this?” I asked Charlotte.
She chewed inside her cheek as she stared at me. Her large doe eyes and long lashes were her best feature. They were windows to her soul, and when she looked at me like this, open and vulnerable, it made me want to move mountains for her.
“I want to cultivate a program for student athletes where they feel safe and where they grow and learn the value of friendship and sisterhood and teamwork. I want them to develop skills that’ll help them their entire lives. I want them to be proud to play and love coming to school. I want depth from middle school to senior year. I want to bring a championship to the community. I had so many coaches who made my life better, and I want to give back, do that for others. Mentor those who need it. Be a family for those who lack one. Plus I want to elevate female athletes because they matter just as much.” Her chest heaved, and red splotched her cheeks. “Wow, that was a messy answer.”
“It was passionate.” I fought the urge to grab her hand. “That was a great fucking answer, Char. It was unfiltered, sure, but that answer? We can work with it and make it into professional-speak.”
She furrowed her brows. “What do you mean?”
