Page 70 of The Secret Play

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding, turning to face the guys. “Thanks.”

Nico shrugged and clapped my shoulder. “We’ve got your back, Coach.”

At their table, the guys settled into their chairs, waving for me to join them. I hesitated for a moment before grabbing my drink and heading over. They’d just saved my ass, so my inclination was to go to them. But things had been weird for a while now, and I wasn’t sure what was best for the team.

For the sake of good manners, I joined them.

Luke grinned. “Didn’t think we’d see you here tonight.”

“Didn’t think I’d be here,” I admitted, sinking into a chair.

Nico leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” How was I supposed to tell him that his sister had the unfortunate habit of shredding my heart? Or that I wasn’t worthy of her and Winnie? There were some things you couldn’t say to a group of guys. One-on-one, maybe. But not to a group and definitely not to my players. I had to keep some level of decorum.

“You know,” Luke said, “we’re still behind you, Coach. Even with…everything.”

I looked around the table, the sincerity in their faces and nods hitting me harder than I expected. It was odd, but I believed them. “I appreciate that.”

“Yeah,” Nico added. “We’re a family. You can get mad at family, but at the end of the day, you’re still there for each other.”

The word family stuck in my head, looping over and over like a broken record. Especially after hearing it from him. After losing my folks, the team had been my family, my anchor, the thing that kept me grounded. But now, the word meant something entirely different.

Because when I heard that word, Gemma and Winnie’s faces came to mind. Family meant the life I’d been too afraid to embrace. Not just afraid, but stubborn, too. I’d dug my heels in about missing those years with Winnie, and what had that gotten me?

I was alone in a bar, nursing my feelings, when I could have been spending time with my girls. If Gemma didn’t hate me for turning her out.

I sat there with the team, their laughter and banter drowning out the music, but my thoughts kept drifting back to the empty house I’d left earlier that night. To the woman I couldn’t stop loving, and the daughter I couldn’t stop aching for.

And for the first time, I wondered if I’d ever figure out how to bridge the gap between the life I had and the one I wanted.

Chapter 28

Gemma

The faint hum of my laptop and the occasional tapping of my fingers on the keyboard were the music of my day. Winnie was at school, the morning rush had long since passed, and I was finally able to dive into my work.

The college beats were starting to grow on me. The players were lively and enthusiastic, hungry for the win. More than any of that, though, they loved talking about themselves. Maybe it was the hubris of youth, but the first chance they got to spill their guts, they took it. There was something pure about it—kids chasing their dreams, playing with everything they had, their futures still ahead of them. They were doing it for the love of the game, the fans, the campus clout.

But this beat didn’t hold the same thrill as the Atlanta Fire coverage. No matter how many stories I threw myself into, my thoughts always found their way back to Casey.

I hated how much I missed him.

I hated that no amount of logical reasoning or self-preservation could stop my heart from aching for him. And I hated that every time my phone buzzed, my chest tightened with hope, only to deflate when it wasn’t him.

It wasn’t healthy, this constant longing, but I couldn’t help it.

Maybe the college kids were getting to me. I remembered what it was like back then, chasing after new love and the possibilities therein. I’d never been lucky in love, not even in my college days. But I had tried to make it work a few times. Never went anywhere, but I tried.

Maybe that was my curse. Maybe I was destined to fall in love and never have it returned.

“That’s a depressing thought,” I said to no one but me.

The more I thought about it, the more I replayed every encounter I’d had in my youth. It was always the same. I threw myself at love, and it never caught me. I’d had a high school boyfriend I thought I’d have babies with, and another in college who made me want to be a better person.

Neither ever said the l-word to me. And after I had Winnie, guys tried to date me, but most weren’t interested once they found out I had a kid. Those who were still interested after learning I was a mom proved themselves to be either untrustworthy or, worse, boring.

Maybe I really was destined to be alone in one-sided relationships.

---