My angel peers at me over her shoulder, on her way up, like she can’t help herself.
My jaw clenches.
Thisis going to be hell.
Chapter Three
MARLOW
“Talk about awkward, huh?” Michaela huffs, flopping down on the bed in the guest room. It’s got light yellow walls, billowing white curtains, and a twin-sized bed. It’s nicer than anything I’ve ever lived in when I was in foster care. “I bet Thane is regretting his decision of letting two college co-eds stay under his roof.”
Just seconds ago, Michaela finished giving me a quick tour of her childhood home. It was even better than I imagined. Every corner, every room, every picture frame spoke of the love this family harboured for another one before the parents’ unfortunate passing. Michaela’s old bedroom was an ode to her teenage self, encompassing posters of popstars, a large CD collection towering in one corner, lava lamps, and all sorts of cute trinkets that made me long to have been raised in a place where I could decorate to my taste without the worry of being shuffled to another house.
Everything was temporary for me until I turned eighteen.
Now I wonder what it would be like to lay roots and have a forever home.
I join her on the bed. “It wasn’t awkward and he didn’t appear to regret his decision. If anything, it seemed like he was happy to have you here, but he struggled to convey his thoughts. Unsurprising for someone who’s a bit of a recluse, right?”
What I saw downstairs was a man trying his best to bridge the gap between him and his estranged sister. He looked so forlorn when Michaela thanked him for letting us stay, as if he couldn’t fathom why his only family felt the need to do so.
At that moment, I ached for him.
Coach Thane was so young when he became responsible for Michaela. I can’t imagine having my life upended and having no choice but to raise my kid sibling.
“I guess so.” There’s a small nostalgic smile playing on her mouth like she’s reminiscing on fond memories. It’s been there since she started giving me a house tour. “Though leaving at eighteen to seek my own independence was the right choice… returning home feels right too. I just wish that I could gather the courage to apologize to Thane for not being grateful enough for everything he did.”
“We’ll be staying here for a bit, so you’ll finally have the opportunity to talk to him.” I shrug. “And even if you apologized, I’m sure he’d tell you that it doesn’t matter. You’re his family and he would do anything for you, Mic. It was written all over his face.”
“You’re right.” She sighs. “However, I don’t think it was just care for me written all over his face.” A mischievous look enters her eyes. “My brother took one look at you and was awestruck.”
I’m caught off-guard. “What?”
“I caught him checking you out.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. “Coach Thane wasn’t checking me out.”
If anything, he was being polite by welcoming us and eying our bags like he wished he could take them off our hands.
Michaela chuckles. “He totally was. Can’t blame him. You’re hot.”
The thought of Coach Thane checking me out makes my toes curl, my stomach flip, and my heart race. “Is this a good time to say I have a crush on Coach Thane?”
Michaela sputters. “Oh my God! What?”
I smack her shoulder playfully. “Do not give me shit for this! He’s cute, okay? I’ve always thought so, from the moment I saw him on the football field three years ago!”
Michaela bursts into a guffaw. “I can’t believe it! How come you never told me before?”
I chuckle too, sheepish. “I dunno. It just felt like a silly crush on an older, more attractive man so I kept it to myself.” Actually, it felt more than that, but he’s still Michaela’s brother and I don’t want to weird her out. “By the way, how old is he exactly?”
“Thirty-one.”
Ah, so ten years my senior. I gulp, trying to smother the butterflies swarming in my stomach. I like that Coach Thane is older, mature, stable, rugged, and so much more masculine than the jocks surrounding me who’ve barely got their frontal lobes developed.
Coach Thane is a man amongst a sea of boys and he’s my type to a T.
Once last year, I caught him running the track field, his band of football players following closely behind during practice. While they were huffing and puffing, Coach Thane was powering through, steady and perfect form.
