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Coach’s voice barely penetrates the thick haze clouding my thoughts. I startle when he jumps to his feet before clapping his hands and pointing to his daughter on the field. “Way to go, honey! Keep up the pressure!”
I follow suit and refocus my attention on the game. Demi is in her zone today, kicking ass and taking names. If there’s action on the field, she’s involved in it. There’s only been a handful of times when she’s come out for a break and that was to guzzle down water before her coach sent her right back in. My heart swells with more love than I ever imagined possible. As soon as that realization enters my mind, my breath hitches, and everything inside me goes eerily silent.
I don’t bother trying to convince myself those thoughts aren’t true. That’s exactly the way I feel about her.
My gaze stays pinned to Demi as she races toward their opponent’s goal. She is so single-minded and determined. I’ve never met anyone who has so much heart for the game. How could I not fall for a girl with so much passion burning inside her?
Now that I’ve gotten to know Demi on a deeper level, the feelings that have always been simmering beneath the surface have taken root. All I want to do is wrap her up in my arms and protect her. Not that she needs me to do that. Demi is more than capable of fighting her own battles.
Everything would be perfect if not for my father’s unwanted presence. Even the idea of him is enough to make me feel like there is a thousand-pound weight sitting on my chest, crushing the very life out of me. He won’t be happy until he sucks me dry like an emotional vampire. And there is nothing I can do to get rid of him. There’s not enough money in the world to satiate him.
Those thoughts have me dragging a hand over my face.
What the hell am I going to do?
I glance at the man next to me. As close as we are, he has no idea what I’m struggling with. Coach has helped me in so many ways. Am I really going to repay all that by bringing my ex-con of a father into his life?
Into his daughter’s life?
There’s no way I can do that to either of them. I need to keep Scott Michaels as far away from Demi as possible.
“Rowan?” There’s a pause. “Have you heard one damn word I’ve said?”
I snap to attention and glance at Coach. “Yeah, sorry. Just thinking about the game on Saturday.”
His large hand drops onto my shoulder, and he gives it a squeeze. “Now’s not the time to get in your head.”
Even though we’re talking about different things, it’s much too late for that.
“Is there something else going on?” He searches my face. “You’re not acting like yourself.”
Fuck.
As much as it pains me to lie to Coach, there’s no way I can tell him the truth. I can’t drag him into my shit. That’s exactly what this situation is—a shit sandwich I’ll have to swallow down on my own, one disgusting bite at a time.
“Nope, it’s all good. I’m going over everything in my head and hoping Kendricks catches what I throw his way.”
He flashes me a grin. “You two are solid this season. No reason to think it won’t continue.”
He’s right. Brayden and I are in the zone. It’s like he can’t not catch what I throw. We’ve totally gelled on the field. He seems to move into position before the ball explodes from my hand. I’m going to miss him next year.
I glance at the man beside me. Out of everyone on the team, he’s the one I’ll miss most. Nick Richards has been like a father to me since he strode into my life the summer before ninth grade. There’s no way I would be where I am today without his guiding hand. Unbeknownst to him, he stepped in and filled the gaping hole my father never could. He’s always led by example, demonstrating how to be a man. He’s taught me invaluable life lessons along the way. Ones that I will carry with me forever.
How do you repay the one person who has altered the course of your life and made you a better human being?
I’ll tell you what you don’t do—you sure as shit don’t bring your deadbeat father around him or his daughter.
The air held captive in my lungs burns as I release it back into the world and watch Demi race up the field before scoring her third goal of the game. That girl is unstoppable. She’s a force of nature to be reckoned with. The two of us jump to our feet and clap our hands. He sticks his fingers between his lips and lets out a loud whistle. A few other spectators blow air horns. Sure, women’s soccer doesn’t bring in the same kind of fanatic crowd that football does, but there are still a good number of fans filling the soccer arena.
