Page 89 of Scoring with the Coach's Daughter

Jake shifts his weight, exhaling through his nose. “Are you just gonna stand there, or are you coming in?”

I blink. “I—yeah. I’m coming in.”

He steps aside, holding the door open, and I walk past him, the warmth of the house immediately wrapping around me. The space is open and inviting, but it’s barely lived in—like he’s here, but not really. A jacket is draped over the back of a chair, and a pair of hockey skates sits by the door, but there’s no real sign of it being home.

I turn to face him, my hands twisting together. "I wasn’t sure if you’d be here."

“Yeah, well. Here I am.” His voice is careful and guarded. He sets his duffel down by the couch, watching me with an unreadable expression. “So, what’s going on, Sam? Why are you here?”

I take a breath, my heart pounding so hard I swear he can hear it. "Because nothing is the same without you."

His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t look away.

“I tried, Jake,” I continue, my voice shaking slightly. “I tried to go back to how things were before you came into our lives. I told myself I was doing the right thing, that I was protecting Ellie, and that it was easier this way. But it’snot. I’m miserable. She’s miserable,” I let out a short, uneven laugh, “and the beach doesn’t feel the same anymore. Pancakes are off-limits. Ellie’s mad at me all the time because she blames me for making you leave, and honestly? She’s not wrong.”

Jake is silent, his eyes locked onto mine.

I swallow past the lump in my throat. “I love you,” I whisper. “I love you, and I don’t want to be scared anymore. I don’t want to lose what we had. I don’t want to keep telling myself I can live without you when the truth is, I don’t want to.”

He closes his eyes for a beat, exhaling sharply.

Waiting…

One second he’s across the room, and the next he’s in front of me, his hands framing my face as he tilts my chin up. His lips crash against mine, stealing the breath from my lungs, and I melt into him, gripping the front of his shirt like he’s the only thing keeping me upright.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests against mine, his breath warm against my skin.

“You ruined me for anyone else, Sam,” he murmurs. “No one else even comes close.”

A tear slips down my cheek, and he catches it with his thumb.

“You’re mine,” he says, his voice rough with emotion. “You always have been.”

I nod, barely able to speak past the lump in my throat. “So… what do we do now?”

He huffs a quiet laugh, his fingers tracing the curve of my jaw. “We figure it out.”

He pulls me onto the couch with him, his arm draped around my shoulders, his other hand lacing with mine. “You open that bistro you’ve always wanted—there’s a spot not far from here, right in town. You’ll love it. And we split our time. Summers in South Carolina. Here the rest of the year.”

I stare at him, my heart stuttering. “You’d do that?”

“For you?” He presses a kiss to my temple. “In a heartbeat.”

Tears spill over, but this time, they’re the good kind. The kind that means something.

The kind that mean I finally stopped running.

I squeeze his hand, leaning into his warmth.

And for the first time in a long, long time, I know—without a doubt—I’m home.

EPILOGUE

The beach isalive with laughter, the scent of butter and garlic drifting from the firepit as clams steam in a pot. The sun hangs low over the horizon, casting a golden glow over the waves, turning the sand beneath our feet into something warm and familiar.

It feels like home.

Ellie races along the shoreline, her curls bouncing as she chases the tide, her giggles mixing with the gentle crash of the waves. Maggie stands near the fire, talking with Sam’s parents, her hands animated as she tells some story that has them chuckling. The whole scene—the sound of family, the smell of the sea, the warmth of the setting sun—it all feels right.

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