Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 83461 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83461 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
I look up and then around at four faces staring back at me as if I’m full of shit.
“It’s not serious,” I assert as I pick up my trash and stand from the table. “Ava and I have clear boundaries in this relationship. She knows my career comes first.”
“What does your career and having a relationship have to do with each other?” Gage asks. He looks over to Baden, then back to me. “We’ve got serious relationships, and we still give a hundred and ten percent to our jobs.”
I don’t have an answer to that. The jaded part of me wants to tell them it won’t last. That at some point, Sophie and Jenna will hate how much they’re gone.
But there’s a piece of me—the man who still believes in possibilities—that wonders if Ava is different.
I mean… I already know she’s unique. She stands apart from the two other women I dated somewhat seriously by the mere fact that those relationships were kept private. They were not invited into my public life and ultimately, that’s part of why I called it off with them. They wanted to be at my side after games and at team events. They wanted to be holding my hand when cameras were flashing, and they wanted the public displays of affection. All things I refused to let myself give, because by letting them into my professional world, I’d be giving tacit permission for them to use that career against me.
But with Ava… I opened the door and brought her right through without hesitation. I did that the first time I got her a ticket to a game and then sealed the deal that this is a different type of relationship when I brought her along for the away trip last week.
Kissing her at Mario’s pretty much guaranteed I’d broken all my rules that had held firm and strong the last nine years. I put her at my side publicly, and for all those who wondered if I could give my heart again after my wife died, they’re thinking that it’s going to happen.
After tossing my lunch trash in the can and ignoring Gage’s question, I say, “Let’s take a half-hour break so I can go through my notes, and we’ll meet with Jack in the film room.”
It’s the last thing we have to do as coaches—go through compiled clips that our video coach and pre-scout staff put together on tomorrow’s opponent, the Minnesota Raiders.
When my office is empty, I call Ava with no guilt since I’m on a break.
Liar.
I’ve got a hundred things to do, and I normally would be using this “break” to get stuff done.
Still, no guilt. I can budget the time, and I want to see how she’s doing. When I left this morning, she was happily sipping a cup of coffee at my kitchen table and working on her laptop. That was after I woke up to find the bed empty, Ava in the kitchen making breakfast, and me working through the feelings of really enjoying seeing her there.
Waking up to a morning shared with someone.
“Hey, Coach,” she quips as she answers.
“How’s work going?” I ask as I settle back into my chair and kick my feet up on my desk.
“Amazing,” she gushes. “I just had a meeting with Shelley, and she’s just so energetic and loved my suggestions on the newsletter. I mean, I’ve never had a boss who gave me a chance to do something big or risky, and she’s doing it, and I’ve only worked for her a week.”
“I’m really happy for you.” So fucking happy that she’s finally getting the things she deserves. “Maybe Derek firing you was supposed to happen to lead you to Shelley.”
“And to you.” She laughs, and something in my chest expands and contracts with pleasure. “Oh, and she’s coming to Pittsburgh in a few weeks to meet with one of her speakers. She wants to take me out to dinner, and I know you probably can’t do it with your crazy schedule, but she invited ‘my significant other’ too, and well… that’s you.”
“When is it?” I ask, putting her on speaker and pulling up my calendar.
“The twenty-second. It’s the day before a home game, so—”
“I can do it,” I say without hesitation. I’m in town and the next game is home, so it’s the perfect time for me.
“Really?” she breathes out almost like I’ve given her the most precious gift ever.
“Really.”
“You’re the best,” she says. “I know it’s hard for you—”
“It’s fine, Ava. I can make the time, and I’d love to meet Shelley.”
“You’re awesome,” she murmurs, and then almost as if she’s embarrassed about saying that, she adds, “I raided your pantry and fridge and found the makings of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich—you’re almost out of peanut butter, by the way—and in my raiding, I saw enough ingredients that I can whip us up some pasta for dinner tonight.”