After that, I kept my focus on my own tasks, working through my pre-game checklist as the clock wound down toward kick off. Just beforehand, Jordan sidled up beside me.
“Ready to go?” he asked.
“Yep,” I answered, eyes still on my notebook. “Everyone is wrapped up and massaged and iced and ready to rock.”
“Good,” he answered, watching the field.
I glanced at him, feeling like he was a complete stranger. That’s what it had felt like ever since… well, since the night we both pretended never happened. We worked together the same as we had before, and to everyone else, I imagined we looked just fine.
But it was different.
We didn’t joke, we didn’t talk about anything of substance, and we definitely didn’t spend any time getting to know each other better. He’d come over to help Paige twice since that night, and both times, he’d avoided me like the plague, and I’d done the same, leaving him to work with her and asking him to stay for dinner knowing full well that I didn’t actually want him to and he wouldn’t out of respect for our agreement.
We were putting it behind us, acknowledging it as a mistake and pretending like it never happened — just like I’d suggested.
And still… I longed for the version of us that existed before that night.
I also longed for a day when I wouldn’t accidentally find myself staring at his mouth, remembering the way it felt pressed against mine.
A blush heated my cheeks as that thought found me, and I cleared my throat, glancing at the stands behind us and back at him. “Was that Elijah Braxton you were talking to?”
Jordan smirked, but didn’t take his eyes off his players. “Indeed. He’s a big football fan, comes to every game — even the away games, when he can.” One eyebrow climbed as he faced me. “And believe me when I say that when we lose, he’s the first one to let me know what he thinks about it.”
I chuckled. “Well, at least if we do lose, you’ll also have plenty of… support, too.” I nodded to where the women who were just talking to him were gathered in the front row of the bleachers.
Their smiles grew when Jordan looked at them, and he had a brow cocked when he turned back to me. “I don’t think I want the kind of support that crew would offer.”
I bit my lip against a smile, not sure why his reaction to them made me happy. “Anyway, you better get out there,” I said just as the referee blew the whistle signaling that it was time for the coin toss.
Jordan watched me for a long moment with a curious gaze, but then he nodded, jogging out onto the field without another word.
And the game began.
It was a wondrous sight to behold, the way Jordan could hold his shit together through one of the most nerve-racking games I’d ever witnessed. There was a lot on the line in this home game, and we volleyed back and forth with the Salem Serpents, scoring a touchdown only for them to answer with one, in return.
We’d go up by three, then down by three, up by seven, then down by three again. Back and forth, over and over through every single quarter of the game.
And all the while, Jordan paced the sideline calmly and coolly, chewing his gum, a permanent scowl on his face as he talked to the other coaches behind his clipboard and pulled players to the side to whisper in their ears each time they came off the field.
Me, on the other hand?
I was a mess.
My knuckles were white from how hard I gripped my notebook all game, and though I would never wish for a player to get injured, not having anything to take my focus off the field put me even more on edge. I would check in on the players I was working with from time to time, but for the most part, I wasn’t needed — not for anything other than support.
When the two-minute warning came at the end of the fourth quarter, coach huddled up our offense, speaking with a low, firm voice in the middle of the circle. I couldn’t hear what he said, but when the players ran back onto the field, I saw the fierce determination in their eyes.
We were down by three with the ball on our twenty-seven-yard line, and two minutes to score.
I didn’t breathe for those two minutes — not when we made a forty-yard pass in a third and eleven situation and not when our offense was a wall against their defense, trying to push the last few yards into the end zone with less than forty seconds left to play. But when we finally broke through and scored, I gave my burning lungs the oxygen they needed and screamed like a banshee, jumping up and down on the sideline.
I could hear Paige going wild behind me, too, and I found her in the stands, giving her an air high five. Randy was there next to her, but he didn’t seem in a celebratory mood. Instead, his eyes were hard on me, disapproving.
He didn’t like that I was happy.
Nothing could get under my skin at that moment, though — least of all him. And I blew a kiss at Paige just as our boys lined up for the extra point kick. It was good, and then we were up by four.
But the Serpents still had thirty-two seconds to play with.
It was the longest thirty seconds of my life, watching them make conversion after conversion, lining up quickly after each play to get the next one in before time ran out. They were on a mission to win in the last stretch, and our defense was on a mission to stop them.
When they snapped the ball with four seconds left to play, their quarterback launched it long, eyes on their best receiver who was just ten yards from their end zone.
But he didn’t catch the ball.
Boone Parson, our cornerback, did.
Every player on our sidelines jumped in the air when the interception happened, the stands going crazy behind us as we all rushed the field. The rest of the defense hoisted Parson up onto their shoulders, and he held the ball over his head in victory.
I was all smiles and laughs and cheers and a racing heart as I watched. Jordan remained calm until he shook hands with the other coach, and then, for the first time all game, emotion showed on his face. He thrust his fist into the air, joining in on the celebrations as the entire town of Stratford roared their approval.
We’d won four games in a row, and our first one at home.
The Stratford Wild Cats were on fire.
It was a high unlike any I’d ever known, winning a home game — especially one that close. The energy was still buzzing through me when my job was done in the training room and the players had all gone off to celebrate their win. The other coaches were still laughing and reminiscing over their favorite moments of the game when I rounded into Jordan’s office.
“Okay, I have a serious question,” I said, plopping down into the chair across from his.
He glanced up, smiling when he saw me as he kicked back in his chair. “I’m sorry, but I’m not signing autographs at this point in time.”
I stuck my tongue out.
“What’s up?” he asked, still smiling. I had a feeling that smile would be glued to his face all weekend.
“How the hell do you go to sleep after a game like that?”
Jordan barked out a laugh.
“I’m serious,” I continued, shaking my head with my hands extended toward him. “I mean, my heart is still pounding.”
“It was amazing, wasn’t it?”
“Absolutely unreal,” I agreed. “Paige is staying with her dad tonight, and I just cannot imagine a scenario where I go home, make some tea, and go to bed. Like… I feel like I could run a freaking marathon right now.”
Jordan smiled as he took in my enthusiasm, but the longer he watched me, the more that smile fell. His eyes flicked back and forth between mine like he was warring with something, and he opened his mouth, shut it again, then finally spoke.
“Maybe you don’t go home then,” he suggested. “At least, not yet.”
“And where the hell should I go?” I asked on a laugh.
But when Jordan’s expression sobered, the storm swirling in his eyes, my own smile fell, too. There was a new energy in the room, one that had snuck in without me n
oticing, but now, it was all I could feel.
The air was hot.
The office was smaller somehow.
Jordan’s eyes pierced me like the blade of a knife, and without rhyme or reason, I leaned into the edge.
“Come with me,” he said — and it wasn’t tentatively or hesitantly, but confidently, like there was no other choice but for me to agree.
My heart that had been racing stopped altogether, chest tightening as if to warn me this was a bad idea. And I knew it, too — I knew by the way it was suddenly difficult to swallow, and the way my neck heated the longer he watched me that way.
But no matter how bad of an idea I told myself it was, I couldn’t suppress the louder voice inside me that said go.
So, I stood, and with that buzzing, electric energy still hanging like live wires between us, I ignored the danger and submitted to temptation.
“Let me grab my bag.”
Jordan
“OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD!”
I couldn’t stop laughing at Sydney’s outbursts as we tore through the Tennessee mud in my Bronco, the full moon above us and my headlights lighting the way. She held on to what I referred to as the, “Oh, shit” handle with one hand and gripped the center console or the dashboard with the other — depending on which way the Bronco was moving.
My abs were on fire like I had been doing crunches instead of just laughing, but I couldn’t stop, and I reveled in the sound of her laughter the longer we were in those woods.
Sydney went from screaming in terror to cackling in uncontrollable laughter and back in the span of sixty seconds. I focused on keeping us steady and safe, flooring it over the ramps and spinning my tires to fling up mud, all the while ensuring we never got deep enough to get stuck. When I finally pulled us onto one of the dirt trails for a break and the Bronco evened out, Sydney slumped in her seat, breathing like she’d just run for her life.
“Oh, My-Lanta,” she said on a long breath when I pulled over, putting it in park in one of my favorite meadows. “Is it possible to be sore from mudding?”
“Hey, you said you had a lot of energy to expend. Tell me that didn’t do the trick?”
“It did,” she agreed, shaking her head. “But, it also maybe gave me a heart attack or two.”
I chuckled, turning the keys in the ignition until the engine ceased, and then all the noise was gone and we were blanketed in a silence only nature could provide. Slowly, as my ears adjusted, the faint sound of the few katydids still hanging around in the cooler nights made their way through the silence. In the summer, the music they made together was deafening, a sign of warm weather. But in the fall, hearing them was rare — especially once it actually got cold.
I grabbed my jacket from the backseat, shrugging it on and climbing out of the driver seat as Sydney watched me curiously. There were other creatures talking to each other all around us — maybe birds, maybe coyotes, maybe insects. I couldn’t be sure of all of them, but I knew they made up my favorite symphony.
When Sydney joined me outside the truck, I walked over to her side, offering my hand and nodding to the front tire.
She cocked a brow. “What?”
“Hop up,” I answered easily.
She looked at the wheel, at the muddy hood, and back at me with her brows drawn together. “On the hood?”
I smiled, grabbing her hand in mine and giving her a boost as she lifted herself up. “Trust me, you won’t hurt it.”
She still seemed a little hesitant, even when she was sitting on the hood, but when I climbed up on the other side and sat next to her, leaning back against the windshield with my eyes on the clearing ahead of us, she relaxed, reclining until her back hit the glass, too.
It was chilly — not so cold that it was uncomfortable, but enough so that I was glad I had my jacket. Sydney wore a Stratford High Football hoodie, and she pulled the hood of it up, tucking her hands in the pockets and crossing her legs where they splayed out in front of her.
“This is beautiful,” she said, eyes wandering over the meadow. It was a phenomenon I didn’t really understand, how in the middle of mud and trees and a forest there could be a break in all of it where the grass and plants and flowers bloomed freely.
“You should see it in the springtime,” I said, letting my eyes travel up to where the stars peppered the sky. On a dark night, you couldn’t count them all to save your life. But tonight, the moon was full and bright, its glow stealing the show in the sky. “There are all these wildflowers, and if you sit here long enough and are quiet, you’ll see deer and rabbits and warblers and all kinds of creatures. I even saw two foxes once.” I smiled at the memory. “You ever see a gray fox before? Bastards are too cute for their own good.”
Sydney laughed. “I take it you come here often, then?”
“It’s my spot,” I said comfortably, proudly. “I love mudding in the truck, and I love to get a good run in to burn off any frustration or stress, but this? Sitting here and being still for a while?” I shook my head. “There’s nothing more peaceful.”
We sat there on the hood of my truck, the damp coolness of the forest on our skin and our eyes cast upward. For a long time, neither of us said anything, and somehow, it was the best conversation we’d had in weeks.
“I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you this,” she said after a while. “But, you’re a really great coach, Jordan. Those boys… hell, this whole town. We’re lucky to have you.”
I shrugged, humbled, but my chest filled with a sense of pride hearing those words from her. “Thank you,” I said. “I just love football, and I care about my team. And I think when those two things are true, anyone can be a good coach.”
“False,” she said quickly, rolling onto her side. She propped her head up, elbow on the windshield and hand cradling her cheek. “It’s more than just loving the game and you know it. You’re talented. You see things that others don’t. You know a player’s weakness before they do, and what’s more, you know how to conquer it. You command respect, and you know what to say when they’re down and defeated and what to say to keep them focused when they’re on a high, too. You make tough decisions when it comes to who to play where and when to take someone out, and you don’t apologize for anything — not even when you lose — because you know you have a plan, and you believe in it.”
I let my head fall to the side until my eyes met hers, and I swore I’d never felt so exposed in my life. I’d been given compliments on my coaching before, but no one had ever put it into words the way she just had.
“They’re like family to me,” I told her. “Not just the players we have now, but any player who I work with.” I paused, wetting my lips as I tried to find the words to explain. “I’ve always wanted to coach, and I got started as soon as I could after high school. I wanted to make a difference — not just for our school and football, but for these boys — individually, you know? We’re in a small town, and some of these kids don’t exactly have the best role models at home. I want to be there for them to remind them what they are capable of, what they have inside them, to push them when they need to be pushed and encourage them when they need to be encouraged. And to tell them I’m proud of them,” I added. “Because I might be the only one they ever hear it from.”
Her eyes softened, brows folding together.
“But as much as I want to make a difference, I’m also fucking terrified of messing it all up — of messing them up.”
“You have no reason to be scared,” she assured me. “You’re the best coach I’ve ever known.”
“How many have you known?”
“That’s not the point.”
I chuckled, letting my eyes wander back up to the sky. “What about you?” I asked. “How did you end up in athletic training?”
“Oh, that’s easy,” she said quickly. “I love bodies.”
I snorted.
“No, but really, I have always had an interest in the way we push ourselves as humans, especially in sports. I k
new I had an interest in anatomy and the medical side of things, but I didn’t really want to be a doctor, you know? So, when I went to college, I focused on sports medicine and fell in love.”
She paused, and I turned toward her again, sobering a little at the distant look in her eyes.
“When I was finishing my master’s, a small junior college baseball team asked me to come on as their trainer. Fresh out of school.” She smiled, but her eyes were sad. “I couldn’t believe it. But it was the first time in my life that I felt like everything I’d done was right, like it had all led to that moment.”
“That’s amazing, Sydney,” I said earnestly. Principal Hanley had told me a little about her background, about her previous offers to work with a college-level team, but this was the first time I heard it from her.
She swallowed. “Yeah, well… I never accepted the job, so…”
“Why not?”
Sydney’s eyes found mine, and she shrugged with the smallest, most innocent smile on her face. “I got pregnant.”
My heart squeezed.
Part of me considered reaching over to grab her hand, or pull her into me, to hold her and let her know I understood. But the truth was I didn’t. I didn’t know what it was like to have a child, to give birth to another human, to have something happen like that where every priority in life shifted.
“They said they’d wait,” she continued, her voice soft. “They said when I had Paige, I could come work for them whenever I was ready. They’d hold the spot. Do you know how unheard of that is?” Her eyes welled with tears. “But Randy insisted we get married, and what I didn’t realize was that when I agreed to be his wife, I also agreed to live by his rules.”
My face hardened. I didn’t know a thing about Randy other than what he did for a living, but in that moment, watching the look in her eyes… I knew he’d hurt her.
That was enough for me to be pissed.
“That’s bullshit,” I said after a moment. “That’s not how marriage is supposed to work.”
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