Page 6 of The Longshot

Relief floods through my chest as I finally reach the venue and just like how I’d anticipated there’s Coach, his phone in his hand and a countdown on the screen.

“A minute to spare.” He stops the timer, folding his arms across his chest, amused. “You’re quicker than I expected.”

I flash him an egotistical smirk, seeing an opportunity to crack a joke that I can’t let up on. “Oh, you know what they say about me, Coach.”

He cocks a brow.

“You know that I’m quick on the streets but slow in the sheets.”

Coach’s face turns stoic. He’s so fed up with me I can’t help but laugh. It’s bloody hilarious.

“Hey, that’s why we’re all here, right?” I have to remind him of the fact that this baby shower would not have been possible without him. “Some slow sheet action, am I right?” I stride my way to his side, one arrogant step at a time. “Or tell me, was it the changing room shower again?—”

“Just give me the Goddamn cake.” Coach attempts to snatch the box from my grasp, but like a child being asked to share, I pull back.

“Nuh-uh. You’re not getting the credit for this. I just ran across the other side of town to get this cake here! I’m going to be the one to deliver it.”

“Whatever.” Coach rolls his eyes, reaching for the side entrance of the venue, where he holds the door open for me to step inside. “Just get a move on, alright?” he instructs. “We don’t have all day.”

“You’re right. Time is fickle when you get to your ripe age,” I joke, picking up my pace as I step in through the doorway, beyond satisfied with the fact that I’ve won our debate as he groans out in frustration. “So, where exactly do you want this?”

Coach tilts his chin sideways. “In the kitchen. It’s to the right and down the hallway.”

I nod, following his instructions as I make my way down the corridor. “See, Coach?” I look back over my shoulder. “I told you I wouldn’t let you down. I told you that you could rely on me?—”

“Wilks!” Coach shouts, and before I know it, I’m displaced.

My feet go out from under me as I slip backward, landing flat on my back, all the while the cake I’ve just spent all day attempting to get here in one piece comes down with it… in multiple pieces.

For a moment, I’m dazed, attempting to figure out how this has just happened, but when I look down and see that my foot is inside a mop bucket, it all starts to make sense.

Fault #4: I’m a total klutz.

“What the fuck?” Coach cries, racing to my side. “You’ve got to be kidding me, Wilks! Is it okay?”

I sit up from the ground, rubbing my back gently in an attempt to stretch myself out. “I’m okay. I just hurt my back a little?—”

“Not you, you idiot!” He’s quick to cut me off, reaching for the box that rests on my chest. “I’m talking about the cake! Is the cake okay?”

I warrant him a glare as I stand up, clearly mishearing the question. “You’re a real charmer, you know that?” I tell him. “I’m just so grateful to have a Coach who cares as much as you do. Truly.”

Sick of my sarcasm, Coach scrunches his nose in frustration. “I swear to God, Wilks, this cake better be intact,” he grumbles as he reaches for the box, only the second he opens it, a wince escapes my lips as he realizes what I already know.

The cake is destroyed.

“Warren?” A voice calls out—one that’s highly familiar.

Delaney.

“Warren, babe? Is everything okay?” she exclaims. “I heard you shouting. Did something happen? Are you hurt?”

Her voice grows louder as she approaches the kitchen and before I know it, I’ve raced towards the door to stop Delaney from making her way in.

“Say something,” I demand under my breath, shooting Coach a glare in the process. “Tell her things are fine.”

“Uh…” It takes Coach a second to catch on before he clears his throat. “Everything’s good, love. I’m okay. I just…”

Coach’s voice is so unconvincing that my head falls back in disbelief. Thank God he’s a Coach and not an actor.

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