I’m shaking my head, but I say, “Sure, I’ll ask her tomorrow.”
Mom’s smile widens, making the idea of having Ainsley in my house seem worth it.
“How wasyourday today?” I rub her back in small circles. “You seem good.”
“I am. I did a few laps around the block, and I didn’t get tired. No dizzy spells.”
Relief rolls over me, and my shoulders drop a fraction of an inch. “That’s great, Mom. Is there anything I can do to help with dinner?”
“Nope.” She bumps her hip against mine. “Go shower, and then you can set the table. We’re using our fancy dishes tonight!”
I chuckle as I make my way into the hallway.
Mom’s excited, and that makesmeexcited. She’s had a rough few months, and if this dinner makes her happy, then I’ll do it a hundred times over.
Chapter 7
Ainsley
Our second practice is underway,and it’s going even better than yesterday.
The team is working hard and showing their strengths. They’re getting along too, which is a plus.
For a few minutes, I forget who’s on the other side of the field.
With the cluster of moms drooling behind the gate.
I force down the gag in the back of my throat and shake my head. “These vultures are ridiculous.”
Raymond grunts. “This is nothing new. You’re only noticing it now because of who they’re gawking over.”
“No, this is different.” I jerk my chin, gesturing to Lucy Brennan. “He doesn’t even drink the coffee she brings him.”
He clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth. “Jealousy isn’t a good look on you, Morgan.”
I choke out a laugh. “I don’t want that kind of attention from parents. I’m just saying, it’s inappropriate behavior.”
These moms hassled me when I coached the JV team, making demands as if they had any say in the program. As if I needed them to tell me what to do with my team. Yet here theyare this season, staring at Landon like he’s something special, giving him compliments and coffee. It’s degrading at best, and sexist at worst.
I’ve always had to work twice as hard to prove myself, when all he has to do is give them that Landon Fletcher smile.
“You know how these boosters are.” Ray shrugs. “We need to play nice.”
“I know, and I will.” I blow out a frustrated exhale through my nostrils. “But I don’t have to like it.”
As practice winds down and the girls sprawl out on the grass to stretch and catch their breaths, Tori Delgado, my goalie, raises her hand. “Coach, is it true that you and Coach Landon played on the same team in high school?”
I nod, not glancing up from my clipboard so she doesn’t catch my facial expression. “Yep.”
She elbows her teammate, Maddie. “See, I told you!”
Maddie’s head whips to me. “You played on the boys’ team?”
I nod again. “My junior and senior years.”
“Wasn’t itsoweird?” she asks.
“Why would it be weird?”
