“I keep telling her that now that you’re starting your residency, you probably won’t be here as much, but she doesn’t want to accept it.” Cooper shakes his head, smiling. “You’re her favorite coach.”
I lean in and get close to Danica’s ear to whisper, “That’s nice since you’re my favorite player.”
She beams at me, then at her dad’s phone as he snaps the picture.
“You must have a million pictures of me.” I dust off my knees as I stand up.
“I think I might.” He laughs.
Cooper’s the owner of Tackle, so even though I don’t report to him, he’s technically my boss. He’s kind and always smiling. It’s a good smile, a genuine one that reaches his eyes the way I wish mine did. I’m not there yet.
“All right then, see you next Saturday?” Cooper reaches for Danica’s hand but keeps his blue eyes on mine.
“I guess so,” I say. “You could see me on Monday at work, but you kicked me out of the facility.”
He laughs. “You need a break!”
“Yeah, whatever,” I joke as they walk away.
I continue picking up the soccer balls, cones, and nets while Wade speaks to a couple of moms on the other side of the pitch. Wade is popular with the moms here. He’s good-looking, but I think his status on the U.S. Men’s Soccer Team is really what does it for them. They’re that type. I know this because I’ve stood next to them enough times to hear that they only talk about athletes. As Delilah, I’ve tried to apply a “do you” personality, but this disturbs me. It’s not like they need the money. I’m pretty sure they were rich before they met their rich husbands. If I’m being honest with myself, I think what upsets me is that I can see this happening to Lach. Wade glances over at me while I’m picking up a cone and shoots me a look that all but screams, “help me.” I toss the rest of the things in the bucket and jog over, waving at the moms and saying hi when I reach them.
I turn to Wade. “You’re supposed to be back with the equipment by five.”
“Aw crap. I forgot about that.” He chuckles, showing off his dimple to the ladies.
I fight the urge to roll my eyes. The excuse works, though. They apologize for taking up his time, and he tells them he loves when they do. The minute they’re out of earshot, he groans and picks up the bucket.
“You can’t even complain,” I say. “You always flash your dimple and tell them you love talking to them, which is why it keeps happening.”
He glances at me sideways. “You seem to be immune to my dimples and charm.”
“I may be the only one in all of Rhodes who feels that way.”
He bumps his arm against mine, and I stumble a few steps. When I regain my balance, I push him hard enough that he stumbles, and things fly out of the bucket. He shoots me a murderous glance, and I take off, jogging to my car while he picks up the fallen supplies. He’s still talking to me when I turn on the car, but I drive off before he can stop me again. I’m dying to get home and shower. And I still have to mentally prepare myself to be excited for Marissa’s birthday tonight. That’s one thing that hasn’t changed.
CHAPTER23
DELILAH
I turnon the television as I walk to my kitchen and groan when it switches on ESPN. Fucking Prescott. I never watch TV, but if I do, that’s the last channel I look at, especially around this time. There’s a breaking news banner on the bottom. I turn around to get a yogurt from the fridge when my phone buzzes.
“Hey,” I say, confused. “I’m not getting dressed yet.”
“I know, but something’s happening and I wanted you to hear it from me and not on a TV at Medley’s later tonight.”
My heart stops. “What happened?”
“Lachlan. . .”
My heart drops. I interrupt her before I can finish. “Oh, my God. What happened?”
I look back up at the TV, and sure enough, his gorgeous face is there. I set down the yogurt.
“He’s retiring,” she says.
“Jesus, Marissa. You should’ve led with that.”
“Hey, it’s not my fault that your brain automatically assumes the worst of everything,” she says.
