Page 34 of Every Beat of My Heart

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

The line between us fell silent. I wanted to ask him if this meant we wouldn’t be seeing him off the field anymore, but before I could work up the courage, he said, “I’m getting another call. Probably another football parent. I’ll see you at the first practice.”

My heart sank. “Bye Jameson.”

I was just another football parent, and I needed to remember that. I wasn’t anyone special.

When I hung up, Owen appeared in the doorway. “What did he say?”

“He said he thought you’d make a good quarterback.”

Owen’s eyes widened. “Bryce is the quarterback. Everyone knows that.”

“He wants to train you as the backup.”

Owen wasn’t as excited as I thought he’d be. “Bryce isn’t going to like that.”

“It’s not his decision.”

Owen’s eyes filled with anxiety. “He can make my life miserable.”

“You want me to tell Jameson you don’t want to do it?” I asked despite everything inside of me telling me it wasn’t the right move.

Owen shook his head. “I want Jameson to know I’m a team player. I’ll do whatever he wants.”

“But you’re worried about how Bryce will treat you at school?”

Owen grimaced. “He’s not nice.”

“Are you sure you want to be on the team?”

“More than anything. I’m going to tell Logan. Can I?”

Normally, I’d tell him to wait until after dinner, but this was a special thing. “Sure.”

Then Owen was gone, and I was left with my thoughts about Jameson being his coach. I was crushing on my son’s football coach. Jameson was a good guy. He wanted to do a good job. He wouldn’t want anyone to think he was playing favorites. Sometimes being a parent came with sacrifices.

I was sure we wouldn’t be seeing him or hearing from him again socially, and it sucked. It was stupid to think anything would have come from it anyway.

I had no idea if Jameson was seriously interested in me. He was younger than me, and we were in different life positions. With my divorce and having a kid to think about, it wasn’t a good idea. No matter how much I wanted it to be.

This was for the best. I could fantasize about him coming to the house in his turnout gear. I could remember his voice all low and rumbly and deliciously authoritative when he instructed us on the proper use of a fire extinguisher while I touched myself. It would have to be enough. Because Jameson Calloway would never be more than a fantasy.

He was teaching at the school. I couldn’t imagine what the gossip would be if it got around I had the hots for a younger teacher. A hot, young, charming teacher. I’d heard he wore a button-down with a tie, a rarity in the middle school. I would have loved to have seen that. It would have just added more images to my bank.

I was going to have to get used to seeing Jameson from afar. We wouldn’t be drinking a beer on my front porch or playing football together anymore. I was used to sacrificing things for my son. This wasn’t any different.

My son would still get the best of Jameson at practice, and I would survive. I knew it would be difficult to date when I decided to go it alone. That I might not meet anyone until the circumstances were just right. And now it was looking like it wouldn’t happen until Owen was eighteen. Because everyone I met had something to do with my son.

Later that night, after dinner was cleaned up, Owen’s homework was finished, and I was lying in my bed, my phone buzzed with an incoming call.

“Jameson?” I answered when I saw the number. My traitorous heart kicked up a notch.

“Sorry about earlier.”

I could almost see him running a hand through his hair, making a mess of his dark locks. I wished it were a video call so I could see his expression. “You were busy. You had all those parents calling you.”

Jameson chuckled, and the sound reverberated through my ear. “Ones that were happy and unhappy.”

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