Page 72 of Coach Me
Lucie shrugs and rolls my office chair next to me. “I guess not.”
She’s wearing that damn yellow dress she wore in the coffee shop the first time we met. Seeing her in yellow has been torture enough, but I’ve been simultaneously dreading and praying to see this dress on her again.
Lucie seems to notice my stare because when her eyes meet mine, there’s a small blush to her cheeks.
Clearing my throat, I turn to look back over the field as one of the hitters sends a ball out to right field.
“I feel like there’s some sort of betting game in here somewhere,” Lucie says softly.
I watch as the same hitter sends his next hit to right field again. “Okay, how about this— we bet questions. So if I bet the next hit lands inleft field and it does, I get to ask you a question, but if it doesn’t, you get to ask.”
Lucie’s smile is soft, but I can see the excitement in her eyes. “Okay, let’s do it.”
We both turn back to the field as the ball gets hit into left field. “I win. Tell me more about figuring yourself out.”
Lucie hums. “That’s not a question.”
“Alright, fair. How are you figuring yourself out?” I’m still having a hard time understanding how Lucie thinks she’s not exactly who she needs to be.
Lucie shuffles in my office chair, angling slightly away from me. “Well, I have this list, or guidelines might be the better word. I guess it’s not necessarily that I don’t know anything about myself, it’s more that I feel like a lot of stuff stems from my siblings.”
“Is that why you’re going to try to go running tomorrow?”
Lucie’s face turns bright red. “Yeah, you could say that.”
“Wh—”
“It’s my turn,” Lucie cuts me off as the next batter comes up. “I bet that he hits it to center field.”
The pitch comes and it’s hit to…left field.
“What are the guidelines?”
Lucie swallows. ‘Um, there’s venture out more?—”
“Running,” I offer, and Lucie shakes her head before continuing.
“Find a hobby, have a yes day, do something that scares me, and be more spontaneous. There’s not really a limit on them either, just to keep me on the path.”
“Does that path have an ending?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know, a goal or some life milestone?”
Lucie shrugs. “Do they have to have an ending?”
“I don’t know. I guess they don’t. I mean, you’re young?—”
Lucie snorts a laugh. “Oh no, not the ‘you’ve got your whole life ahead of you’ speech.”
The smirk tugs at my mouth. “God, I hated it the moment it came out of my mouth. How patronizing did that sound?”
“Eh, I think I cut you off in time.” Lucie laughs again. “Even though I believe I’m way past the bet requirements, there’s not necessarily this big end goal. It’s not that I’m doing any of this to be ready for a relationship or a big career move. It’s just for me.”
Shit. I don’t know if I like or hate that answer. I like that this is for her—hearing she wants to better herself for a guy would have pissed me the fuck off. But, then again, I kind of want to be that guy. That’s part of the damn problem.
My feelings for Lucie are getting too hard to ignore. We already had one close call, and I don’t see myself recovering from too many more moments like that with her.
