"We do it because we love you," came the answer from my favorite four-year-old.
"Huddle up, team," Coach Mae called, bringing us to attention.
I stretched my shoulder in the corner, trying to avoid the gossip floating around. When I went to college I had this stupid notion the girls would be more mature. All the petty stuff would be left behind in high school and I’d be free of drama.
I had no problem admitting I was wrong.
When I walked in the locker room there was a buzz of excitement running between the girls, so I retreated immediately. Something had them in a state of mania and I wanted nothing to do with it.
One more season.
It wouldn't have even been one more season if I hadn't been so damn loyal. It wasn’t as if I played. Hoffer was the starting pitcher. I made sure I didn’t try as hard, so I could ride the bench and save what was left of my shoulder.
"Calm down, girls." At Coach Mae’s words the energy simmered down. "Raine, get over here. This has more to do with you and Hoffer."
Claire Hoffer, the first string pitcher, rolled her eyes at me as I made my way over to the team.
Why do I put myself in these awkward positions? It's not as if I need more awkward in my life.
"As I'm sure some of you have heard, Coach Hans is out for the season. He dislocated his shoulder yesterday."
The tittering got higher and I swore Claire bounced on her cleats at the news.
I’m in a team of dicks. Why they were so happy our pitching coach was out for the season was beyond me.
Sure his breath smelled like garlic, but he was nice enough. I mean, only Claire and I dealt with him for the most part.
"I asked one of my old players to come and help out with the season while Coach Hans recovers." Coach Mae smiled as the excitement grew.
Massive giggles erupted around me, and I stepped back. I didn’t want to breathe whatever they were on. No giggling for me.
"From your response it seems most of you know who I'm talking about. He’ll be treated as your coach. Which means he and the team will follow the rules as normal. So hands off, ladies, you know the rules.”
The team exploded into nervous giggles as my stomach flipped over.
“I expect you girls to be on your best behavior. Even though he’ll only be with us for a short time I expect you to treat him as any other staff member."
Wait. What?There was no way she could mean…
"Coach Butler, is there anything you’d like to add?"
Coach Mae's eyes traveled to the back of the room. My team twirled around in an impressive synchronized move. The bottom of my cleats were glued to the locker room floor. If I didn't turn around maybe it wouldn't be true. But then he spoke.
"I'm delighted to be here. As for the rules, I'm sure we won't have a problem adhering to them, will we, ladies? I want to help you have the best season you can have."
There it was. His deep southern drawl washed over my back, causing tiny quakes under my skin. My shoulders tensed, ruining all the stretches I’d just done.
Trip Butler was behind me. He was my coach. He was behind me. And he was off-limits.
"Turn around, Raine," Claire whispered in my ear.
The nastiness in her voice was the solvent I needed to unglue my feet. It felt like I was moving rocks as I turned around and spotted him. His leg was propped on the bench in the middle of the locker room in the sexiest pose ever. My knees locked as I realized I was standing less than eight feet from the man I had claimed to be my future husband since I was in junior high.
His slinged arm did nothing to diminish his masculinity. He wore a white T-shirt and gray sweats with the Pappies’ logo on the side. His face had a shadow of a beard showcasing his plump lips and white teeth he was flashing at us.
Don't look in his eyes.
Shit, too late. His blue eyes were the color of cookie monster.
