Page 57 of Scoring with the Coach's Daughter

“I had plans with you. I’m glad we have the chance to get out tonight.”

“You should have chucked me for him, I would have,” she smirks.

“I know. But I can’t.”

“Sam, my God. No one judges you as harshly as you judge yourself. Live a little.”

I sip my drink. “I know.” And I wonder if Jake wants me to be more fun, exciting, and cavalier when we’re together. I’m sure the single women he dates are more entertaining than me. Will he tire of me and my life of routines and childrearing?

“Jake is great. I don’t know why you haven’t locked him down.”

“Like I can lock anything down but a window!” I reply scoff.

“You never give yourself credit for anything. You’re amazing. You run a business, and you’re raising an incredible tiny human all by yourself. That’s epic!”

“You make it sound so, so, noble— like it’s an impossible feat. I’m not all that.”

“Yes, you are. And Jake is in love with you.”

“No, that’s not true.”

She stares me down, “Samantha McAllister, that man has it bad for you and you know it. It’s time you stop hiding behind Ellieand seize the day.”

I nervously chuckle. I love her being my black hat advisor and the way she commands me to act on my baser instincts and needs. She permits me to step outside my comfort zone and history has shown that she has an uncanny ability to pick her spots wisely. So, at her decree, and my gut instinct, I decide that it’s time to move toward with Jake.

I nod and lift my drink to her. Her glass clicks mine and she says, “Seize the day, woman!”

“Seize the day,” I murmur. It’s going to take a pitcher of drinks for me to do that!

Now that I’m filled with a new resolution, I’m anxious to get home and wrap myself around that irresistible man in my house and my bed.

It’s after midnight when Maggie drops me off in my driveway. The house is quiet as I creep into the kitchen and I wonder why the lights are still on. Once I adjust to the light I immediately spot the mess—flour dusting the counters, a few forgotten chocolate chips dotting the floor, and an empty mixing bowl in the sink with cookie batter coating the sides.

I smile. Cookies. I take in the plate of fresh cookies and then I see the first-aid kit sitting on the kitchen counter.

What the fuck?

Panic and a weird weight settle in my stomach. I storm into the living room like a decorated general going to war.

I round the corner and I find them on the couch—Ellie curled up under Jake’s protective arm, her tiny finger wrapped in a Band-Aid. She’s sleeping with a content look on her face and she’s holding her stuffed lion Jake won for her. It’s an idyllic scene and I would have enjoyed it if my anger hadn’t bubbled over. I should sleep on it, but I can’t.

Jake senses my presence and glances up. His face is unreadable. “Hey.”

I zero in on Ellie’s hand. “What happened?” I ask, my toneis not friendly. Apparently, it’s louder than I realize and Ellie rises into a sitting position as if a spring launched her.

She sleepily confesses. “I was making a cheese sandwich for Jake, but the knife slipped, and I got a little cut. But it’s okay! Jake fixed it.” She rubs her eyes, then she gives me a look that tells me to lower my accusatory tone before I speak again.

Jake stands and shifts defensively. “It wasn’t bad, Sam. Just a tiny?—”

“You let her use a knife?” My eyes zero in on him. I move around him to Ellie and inspect her finger. The tiny cut is clean and slightly larger than a paper cut. It’s not serious and maybe I’m overreacting but I can’t stop myself from judging him and right now, my mind is screaming, “I told you so. He’s not ready for this.” And I can’t override the guilt that it’s my fault for trusting him.

The words snap out sharper than I intend, and Jake straightens. “I didn’tlether?—.”

“She’s five, Jake!” my voice rises, fueled by panic and dismay. “She could’ve really hurt herself!”

Ellie’s smile fades, and her lower lip trembles.

Jake’s jaw tightens. “I know that. I was right here. She wanted to surprise me with dinner, and the butter knife slipped. I handled it.”

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