Page 35 of The Coach

She looks a bit confused. "Are you still close with them?"

"Some more than others."

"Yeah, true. That's nice."

"I was on that team for most of my adult life."

"Do you miss it?"

I don't even know how to answer that. I feel like a completely different person now. I might still be involved in the game but not how I want to be, and it's not the same. "I feel like a part of me is missing. I would give anything to be able to play again, but it's just not possible." I look down to my knee, where there are scars from the multiple operations I had to have it reconstructed. You can hardly tell, there's nothing wrong to look at it, beyond the scars.

"Least you have us. Must be nice to know how much of a difference you're making here."

I smile. I guess it is, but it's not the same. Maybe that's why I'm self-sabotaging, letting myself get involved with a player, because as much as I want this job to give me some purpose, I don't need it. I have money, plenty of it. And the distraction Andy creates is much more tempting than it should be.

I quickly send off one last text and wait for Andy's reaction. It's fun to watch her as she reads my words.

Me:My place, tonight, 6pm. Tell the girls you have a date or something, just don't tell them who it's with!

She reads it and smirks into her phone as she types out a reply.

Andy:So we're going to play this game, are we?

Me:No game. I want you, and I'm not waiting any longer. My place and I'll show you what I have in mind.

Her eyes rise to meet mine. The blush that colors her cheeks is the reaction I was hoping for.She licks her bottom lip, and I don't know if she's doing it on purpose or not, but she has to know how crazy she's driving me right now. She types out a reply.

Andy:I'll be there X

Good, tonight we will sort out what is going on here, and hopefully the night ends better than yesterday morning did. Because I'm not going to get through another of these training days watching her run around looking all fucking cute and out of reach.

Andy

I knock on Brad's door and wait. I feel bad lying to the girls about where I was going tonight. I told them I was reconnecting with an old friend from school. Kept the details vague so I wasn't lying too much. I had to say I was going out somewhere, because I'm more dressed up than I normally would be, in a three-quarter fitted skirt with a split at the side and a vintage tank, a faded denim jacket over the top.

I was all over the place at practice this afternoon; it didn't help that I had no sleep last night, but mostly I was just thinking about Brad. And what his plans might be for this evening. He is risking so much doing this with me, but he doesn't seem to care.

He answers the door in relaxed-style jeans and a shirt. He smells freshly showered and looks totally yum. I give him a little sidewise grin, still not sure if this is the best idea or not. I'm going to take his lead.

I don't have to wait long to find out what he wants, as he pounces on me, pulling me into his arms and turning me so I'm up against the open door, his lips pressed to mine, his tongue invading my mouth hungrily.

My hands run through his hair, and his hands roam down my body and settle on my ass. He squeezes it roughly, and I feel my need for him throb through my body and go straight to my lady parts. As we kiss, he pulls me into him hard, so we're as close as we can be. His kiss is desperate, and I love knowing just how badly he wants me. Knowing the crazy attraction I have toward him isn't one way.

I pull back, trying to catch my breath. "We should go inside," I suggest, knowing the last thing we need is to be caught like this. By who, I don't know, but it still feels like a bad idea when we're trying to sneak around that we don't go inside first.

He looks around. "We should. I just couldn't wait." He takes my hand and leads me inside his home.

"Your house is so lovely." I walk around the living spaces, checking it out properly. The other night when I was here, I wasn't in the right frame of mind to notice anything much. The rooms are large, the walls in a warm gray, the floor light timber. There's a comfy-looking navy sofa in the center of the room with a rattan armchair off to the side and an oversized shaggy rug. The windows are to the ceiling and show a nice-looking yard with manicured lawns and a pool. On the walls are stunning black-and-white images, some of people, maybe family, others are clearly him playing soccer.

He comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist, kissing my neck, just how he did yesterday morning. "You're so lovely," he murmurs into my neck.

"We both know that's not true. I'm a badass, there is nothing lovely about me," I sass, pushing away from him to look more closely at the photos on the wall. "Is this your family?" I point to one of the photos, an older couple, a girl in her thirties, and two kids.

"Yeah, they're all back in Australia, so every year they send me a new family pic to have on my wall. This one is taken just down the road from the house I grew up in. My mum Carol, dad Terry, and sister Amy, and her two boys, Zac is six and Jay four."

I turn in his arms so I'm looking at his gorgeous face. Those eyes kill me, I want to get lost in them. Drift away from the real world for just a little bit. "They're cute kids. Bet you miss them, not being able to see them much. My family are everything to me. They all live back in Palm Springs, except for Jasmine, and I miss them so much when I don't see them for a few weeks. I feel like every time I see my niece and nephew, they've changed."

"I guess I'm used to it. I have been living away from home for so long that it just feels normal to see them only once or twice a year."

---