Page 82 of Coach Sully

“That’s your baby, Sully.”

The pride in his eyes is palpable, and my throat thickens with emotion. He will be the best dad.

Wedged between Sully’s massive thighs on his sofa, his arms are wrapped around me as we listen to music together… It’s perfection. My right hand curls behind his neck, drawing small circles at the nape. His breaths are relaxed and steady, and I’m almost positive he’s sleeping, as every once in a while his leg twitches, and it makes me smile. It’s adorable. I resist giggling. I’d hate to wake him when he’s this relaxed. He’s been so attentive lately, he needs to rest. He’s earned it. His palm hasn’t left my stomach since feeling Bo kick. I close my eyes and relish the safety I feel at this moment.

Yup. This is it. My happy place.

“I love you,” I whisper, knowing he won’t respond but needing to tell him anyway.

His breathing stops, and mine follows.

Sully shifts and spins me so I’m straddling him, my round belly between us. His eyes search mine while his fingers skate up my arms and cup my neck. He tucks a lock of my hair behind my ear and brushes the edge of my jaw with his thumbs. The air between us is thick. He heard me. I know he did. But I don’t dare take it back. I meant it. I love this man whether he reciprocates my feelings. Still, the empty air feels thick. What is he thinking?

He swallows. “I love you so fucking much, Kendra.”

Finally, I exhale the breath that’s been burning in my lungs.

He loves me too.

Sully pulls me close and kisses me, and my hand covers his and our fingers link.

This is love. Deep, true, sacrificial, ends-of-the-earth love.

The rest of the night is spent lying in bed together, our bed, feeling for kicks and watching movies. Better rest up, the movers are coming tomorrow.

28 weeks pregnant

“Figure it out, Kendra!” Jeremy yells. He’s the executive producer on the show and is giving me shit because Sully has taken none of the women he’s dated on a second date. I’m trapped in his office with him while he screams the house down with a red face. He’s pissed because this show isn’t the cheap-and-easy reality productions he prefers. He gets off on exploiting others in the fastest way possible and wants to fabricate his own drama. All he cares about is putting up numbers. I thought I could learn a lot from this guy, but his style is not mine, and there’s nothing beneficial for me to learn here.

My argument is that we can achieve the same results by working the story from a different angle. Sully has depth! The entire story has depth, it’s Minnesota’s first pro-female team.Why are we relying on only these dates for the storyline? It’s lazy.

“How? I can’t force him. If he wants to find out what’s behind door number two, we can’t intervene. That’s the show.”

He grimaces at me. “We’re halfway through production, and he hasn’t had one second date! What show,Kendra?! Where’s the story arc of him not finding a partner? Nobody cares to watch him speed date a bunch of bimbos! They want to see him fall in love!”

This asshole.

“Your arc is with the Rogues!” I argue. “He’s a coach first and foremost! It’s a great story, we can play the NHL to PWHL angle, having the hotshot male hockey captain coming face-to-face with athletic misogyny. It’s a big issue! We don’t need the fake shit. Let’s work with what he’s given us.” Before I even finish speaking, I can tell he will shoot it down. Jeremy doesn’t give a damn about ethical filmmaking or the important matters at hand.

“Fuck that—make it happen! Fix it! Talk him into it, trick him, I don’t care. I want a second date from him before I get on set.”

He throws open the door to his office with enough strength to rattle the door handle in its wake, then stomps out. He’s ranting under his breath out in the hall. What a dick. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I’m growing sick of this production.

Normally, I don’t get flustered when a producer starts yelling. Most of the time, they’re blowing off steam, throwing fits because shit isn’t going the way they want—um, hi? That’s the job. It’s never fun being the target of someone’s anger, but it’s never gotten under my skin like it has today. Probably because the person in question is Sully. Being under the weather isn’t helping either. I don’t want to force him to pick a woman twice—I don’t want to watch him date those women in the first place.

I look at my phone and check the time. Shit, I needed to leave ten minutes ago. I feel ill, it’s probably the stress from the ass-chewing I just received, or possibly the recent traveling from Florida. It’s not exactly nausea, but an overall not-well. I need to rally if I’m going to make it to ten o’clock. I’ve been here since six. It’s going to be a long day.

We’ve secured a film location at a local brewery for Sully’s date tonight. I text Rachel, my favorite production assistant.

Hey. You on loc already?

Rachel

Yeah, what’s up?

We need Sully to take this girl on a second date. How’s his attitude right now?

Rachel

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