Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 73794 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73794 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
“Me, sir?” My jaw hung open. I supposed I should have seen this coming, what with the assistant talk. Nevertheless, I gaped at him.
“You.” He gave me a rare smile, pale eyes twinkling behind his thick glasses. “You always were one of the favorites. Don’t tell the rest of my boys, of course.”
“I’m honored, sir. Truly. However, I’m not sure I’m cut out to be a coach.”
“None of us are.” He nodded sharply at me. “Coaching is one of those things that chooses you, not the other way around. And leading young people is in your DNA.”
He wasn’t wrong. As a sergeant, many of my favorite experiences had been training newly enlisted recruits, and I’d certainly enjoyed working with the team this summer.
“I’m flattered.” I took a deep breath. Funny how I was over forty now, a peer to Coach Willard by any measure, and my knees still shook like I was fifteen. “There’s something you should know about me.” Another big gulp. Man, talking to Angel and Eric had been so much easier. “I’m bisexual.”
“Eh?” He frowned.
“I date both men and women,” I explained.
“Oh.” He sucked in his cheeks for a long moment. “Suppose that’s common enough these days. Our Mary and her Diane just welcomed another little girl.”
“You don’t think my bisexuality will be an issue if I want to coach?” I pressed.
“Not with me. Some of the parents might be the type to squawk, but you’ll keep it under your hat. It’ll be fine.” He nodded decisively.
“You mean don’t be out,” I said flatly.
“Out or in? Does it matter? I support you, Capo. Doesn’t matter who’s in your bed, but there’s no need to go shouting about it.”
“Yeah.” My voice came out wooden and defeated. “Wouldn’t want to rock the parent club boat.”
“Exactly.” Coach Willard appeared to have missed my tone entirely. “Now, you think about my offer. There’s no one I’d rather recommend, and you don’t need to answer right now. Think about it.”
“I will.” I gave a robotic nod. Hours later, though, my brain continued to swirl. I sure as hell had a ton to talk to Caleb about even before my phone dinged with an incoming message from him.
Caleb
We need to talk.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Caleb
Me
We need to talk.
There. I’d finally texted Tony. I’d waited a couple of days past Sean’s visit for the courage, timing, and right words to talk to Tony. None of which happened, so finally, I’d simply forced myself to type. And, of course, my heart thumped the whole thirty seconds I had to wait for a reply.
Tony
I was thinking the same thing. Where do you want to meet?
Oh crap. I should have been relieved that Tony was also looking to talk, but instead, my heart pounded harder and sweat rolled down my back. The only thing worse than not being on the same page was being on the same page.
I glanced through my open door, down the hall to the living room, where the sounds of a loud car chase blared.
Me
Not here. Scotty, John, and Cosmo are watching a movie in the living room.
Tony
Ha. Similar situation here. Rowan has what looks like most of the drama club over for 80s night. Just finished cleaning up dinner with Jonas, so I can sneak away. Our favorite make-out point up the old quarry road?
Me
I said talk, not fool around.
I regretted the pissy text almost as soon as I sent it, but the last thing I needed was the temptation to screw instead of say what needed to be said.
Tony
Might be a first, but we can talk there too.
Tony didn’t include the eye-roll emoji I undoubtedly deserved.
Tony
It’s private. We need to stop taking chances in town.
Me
Yeah.
I couldn’t argue with that. Our days of silly risks were over, dammit. And all that was left was one last trek up that old quarry road to the same parking area as one of our first encounters. The memory of those kisses flashed as vividly as if it had been yesterday while also seeming like decades ago. So much had happened since then.
We turned onto the gravel road at almost the same time, pulling in alongside each other and killing our lights. A few seconds later, Tony slid into my passenger seat. My truck was bigger than his older compact, so he usually came to me, like the other night. Damn, that had been sweet. I suppressed a sigh.
“Hey.”
“I feel like a secret agent or a spy.” Tony chuckled, but his laugh lacked its typical energy. He quirked his mouth. “Or not so secret as the case may be.”
“Fuck.” Bending forward, I rested my head on the steering wheel. “What did you hear?”
“Eric warned me there’s a rumor going around.”
“Apparently,” I said flatly. “I thought we were doing a good job of being on the down-low.”
“Good might be overselling it.” Tony’s voice had a new edge.