Page 176 of The Coach

I shoot up from my seat. “Hey!” I bark at the conductor. “Hold the train.”

The guy looks at me like I’m insane. “Sir, we’re on a schedule. We can’t just?—”

“Yeah? Well, I’m Jackson fucking Knox, and you better stop this train from going.”

The man’s eyes widen. “Wait…CoachJackson Knox?”

“That’s right. And if you don’t stop this goddamn train, I’ll make sure you’re watching Stallions games from the unemployment line.”

I hate to be an asshole, but sometimes you have to play the coach card.

The guy sighs, mutters something aboutlovesick athletes, and steps outside, signaling the crew.

The train slows.

And Irun.

Out onto the platform.

Straight to her.

Ivy gasps as I grab her, wrapping my arms around her, pulling her in tight.

“Jackson, what are you?—”

I don’t let her finish.

Ikissher.

Hard. Desperate. Like she’s the only thing keeping me breathing.

She melts into me, her hands sliding up to cup my face, fingers threading into my hair.

I pull back, my forehead pressed against hers, breathing her in.

“I can’t believe I haven’t said it yet,” I rasp.

Her eyes flick up to mine, wide, searching. “Said what?”

I grip her jaw, making sure she’s lookingrightat me.

“I love you, baby,” I whisper, voice thick. “I love you, Ivy. You understand?”

Her breath catches.

Her hands tighten on my collar. She starts to tear up.

And then?

Then, shesmiles.

A slow, breathtaking smile thatwrecksme.

“I understand,” she whispers back.

The conductor clears his throat. “Uh, Coach? We gotta go.”

I press one last, lingering kiss to her lips.