Page 39 of Every Beat of My Heart

“What do you mean?” Was she asking about us? Did she know that I was interested in her, and it had nothing to do with Owen or football.

“Do you want to build a house on your family’s property, or do you want to prove something by living somewhere else?”

Of course she wasn’t talking about me liking her. She didn’t even know how I felt. “I’m tired of proving myself to my brothers. I’m never going to measure up. I’d have to be in law enforcement and to have known what I wanted to do at eighteen. Because I spent a few years floundering, trying to figure out what I wanted, I’ll forever be immature and irresponsible.”

“Is that true though? You should really question that conclusion.”

My jaw tightened. “I technically work three jobs. I don’t have time to drive buses right now.”

“You help people in all your jobs. I’d say what you do is admirable.”

“Thanks, Claire. I needed someone else’s perspective.” I needed hers specifically.

“You’re welcome. I’m glad I could help.”

There was nothing left to say. I’d already exhausted the acceptable topics: football and Owen’s workout regimen. How else could I keep her on the phone? “How are you?”

I should have said goodnight and kept things platonic. I shouldn’t keep talking to her.

“It’s weird. I feel like something is missing, but I don’t know what.”

I wanted to say me, but I didn’t know if she thought of me as anything beyond her son’s coach. “You’ll figure it out.”

“I hope so.”

“I’d better let you go. It’s getting late.” I didn’t want to think about where she was in the house at that moment. Was it too much to hope that she was in bed, and already in her pajamas? Does she wear flannel or silky ones?

“Jameson?” Claire asked.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for calling. I enjoyed our talk.” I could hear the smile in her voice.

“You’re welcome. Night, Claire.”

“Night.”

I felt lighter when I got off the phone. I jumped into the shower to wash off the sweat from practice. On the nights I substitute taught and coached, I always went for a run on the track and lifted weights. Otherwise, I worked out at the station and played basketball. I’d always been in good shape, but I felt even stronger now.

As I ran the soap over my tired muscles, I wondered if Claire thought I was attractive. If she’d appreciate all my hard work. And I couldn’t help gripping the base of my cock that was hard at the thought of Claire and of whether she was touching herself in bed right now.

I groaned at the thought of her touching herself after talking to me. Would she play with her clit or slide her fingers inside? I spurted my release on the shower tiles with the thought of Claire underneath me, gripping my arms tightly while I drove into her.

I wasn’t going to survive this situation. I wanted to talk to her more. I wanted to get to know her on another level. But it wasn’t appropriate, not with our teaching positions and the coaching job.

If my brothers knew I was lusting after one of my player’s moms, they’d think I was falling into my old ways. Then I remembered what Claire said. What I did was admirable. I was a good guy. I just wished she thought of me as more than her son’s coach.

* * *

Our first game was Friday night, and I was stressed. The high school team was at an away game so we were on their field under the lights. I wasn’t sure we were ready, but it didn’t matter. Everyone would be watching to see how we did. I hadn’t invited my family, but somehow they found out about it and were here anyway, sitting in the front rows of the metal bleachers.

“What are you doing here?” I stopped to ask Wes when I had a minute.

“We wanted to support you,” Wes said.

“It wasn’t necessary.” I was nervous, and the last thing I wanted was everyone judging me, including my family. I always fell short with them.

“Not many people would do that when their kid wasn’t on the team,” Dad said.

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