“You can stay at my place,” I tell her.
“But—”
I pin her with an intent look, and she nods. “Fine, but now get out of here. I’ll wrap things up and head to the store.”
Kissing her temple, I inhale her sweet scent. “See you later.”
I must tread carefully and shove my desire as far down as I can until she overcomes whatever holds her back.
Patience. Everything is better than us not talking. Fuck, that was brutal, and I’ve been through hard shit lately. But now we’re back on track, and I preserve hope that at the end of this ordeal, we’ll be together.
There’s no other way; I refuse to even entertain a different outcome.
When our kids ask us how we met, I’ll say, “I wore Mommy down while being the perfect friend and the man she needs.” That’s my strategy, and I’ll keep telling myself that, not to give in to my impulse, for now. Like not sleeping together. There’s denial and there’s torture. I refuse to make things harder for us.
As soon as I enter the locker room, Coach Parker seethes.
Roman casts a worried look my way, and I mouth, “Talk to you later.”
“In my office, now,” Coach booms.
The hinges clatter with the force he shuts the door behind him. He scowls at me, letting me feel the brunt of his disappointment.
“I thought you, as a captain, would be the first through the door. You’re an hour late.”
I drag a hand down my face, trying to fix the situation. “Coach, it was an emergency.”
“What was an emergency?”
I am screwed either way, but I keep my mouth shut. He takes my silence as nothing important and says, “Don’t force me to bench you.”
I blink, taken aback. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“But, Coach…” Fuck. Coaches are supposed to have your back, but mine is intent on making my life more difficult than it already is. “Is this about me and Lilly?”
“There is no you and Lilly. And I hope you would never disrespect me by doing something stupid,” he mumbles under his breath.
I clench my jaw so hard that my teeth grind together.
“So what? You’re fine with me as your quarterback, but not dating your daughter?”
He slants me a deadly stare.
I know I said the wrong thing, but fuck him. He surely said something to her. Let’s have him bench me until the board is up his ass. If he wants a pissing contest, I am giving him one. Let’s see them winning without me and telling everyone the reason we’re on bad terms.
“There’s no way you’re dating my daughter. You’re not the only quarterback on my list.”
A threat I truly don’t give a fuck about. By the sigh he lets out, he’s aware just as much.
“Why?”
“I don’t have to justify myself to you,” he grumbles, being an unyielding cliff of inflexibility.
Crossing my hands over my chest, I jerk my chin to him. “You know what, Coach, you projecting your failure onto me isn’t helpful.”
“I would be very careful what I say next if I were you,” he snaps.
