Page 3 of Scoring with the Coach's Daughter

I need a change of scenery. I need to surround myself with people who care about me. Idle hands are the devil’s workshop and I’ve been using alcohol to numb myself to the extent that I have to evaluate my current state of mind. I don’t want drinking to turn into a bad habit. I’ve seen many players give in to addictions and I know first-hand how it can end careers. It also breaksup marriages.

I’m spinning my heels and can’t shake the fact that I’m not productive. I’m antsy and my anxiety over my future consumes me. All this sitting around has made me contemplate my future and the fact is my personal life has suffered due to my career.

Being on the road is tough on a relationship. I’ve always said today isn’t the right time for a wife, but if not now—then when? I’m not getting any younger. And if my current state of mind is what I’ll be when I retire, I’m in for a rough road.

I want a wife and kids. I’ve just never made time for it. I’ve prioritized my career over personal attachments, and I know that has to change. I am capable of adapting and I’d happily do so—if I found the right woman.

“I wouldn’t miss your birthday for the world,” I reply, matching his grin. I hand him the bottle of bourbon I have tucked under my arm.

“It’s always good to see you.” Coach takes the bottle. “Thank you,” he says as he claps me on the back and guides me inside his colossal house.

The smell of food hits me like a warm embrace. I’ve always had the opinion that food brings family and friends together, and as I glance around at the guests, I know I’m right.

“Everyone’s here—make yourself at home!” He suggests as he leads me through the entryway.

And then I see her—Sam McAllister—standing in the kitchen doorway, arms crossed as her eyes zero in on me.

“Sam,” I say, approaching her. “It’s been a long time.” I’m unable to keep the teasing note out of my voice. The last time I saw her was at the funeral of her sister so I skipped the specifics. She was a vision then and she hasn’t aged a day in two years. I wonder if she remembers me.

She gives me a look that is so warm it could melt a popsicle in the Arctic. “Jake. I’m surprised to see you here.”

“Didn’t think I’d show?” I ask, amused as I lean casually against the doorframe.

“I figured you’d be too busy with your adoring fans.”

The corner of my mouth lifts. “I needed a break. And besides, I couldn’t pass up your mom’s cooking,” I chuckle and give her a wink for good measure. Her cheeks turn a little pink before she rolls her eyes. We both know her mother hires catering services for these events. “You look great. How have you been?”

“Good, you?” We walk to the backyard together.

Coach’s is chatting with people and kids running in circles. I glance around and my teammates and former players laughing like no time has passed since we last gathered. I spot Ellie, and she’s grown so much. She’s a whirlwind of curls and energy, chasing a ball across the grass. I can’t help but smile. I can see the family resemblance in her face.

I notice Ellie stops suddenly to watch a group of older kids toss around a football. She tries to pick up the ball and fumbles. Then, her face scrunches up in frustration.

“Need a hand?” I call out, making my way over.

Her eyes widen. “Are you a football guy?”

“Yes,” I say, crouching down to her level. “I’m Jake.”

She tilts her head. “Aunt Sam says football guys are trouble.”

I chuckle. “She said that, huh? Well, how about I teach you something, and you can decide for yourself?”

Her smile grows as I show her how to hold the ball—fingers on the laces, stance balanced. “Like this?” she asks, wobbling a little.

“Perfect,” I say, standing and stepping back. “Now let’s see that throw.”

Ellie launches the ball. It goes about two feet, and she cheers like she’s wonthe Super Bowl.

“Touchdown!” I shout, throwing my arms up in mock celebration.

Her laughter rings out, and I feel someone watching me. Turning, I find Sam leaning on the porch railing, her arms still crossed. She’s watching us, though—her face is unreadable.

“Jake says I can be whatever I want!” Ellie calls out, running past Sam.

Sam shakes her head as I wander up.

“You don’t give an inch, do you?” I ask, keeping my tone easy.

---