Chapter 8

Iwas just as surprised as Owen that Jameson ended up being the coach for tryouts. He'd said he was coaching but I never asked what age or school because there were so many different teams. What were the odds that we'd end up on the same one?

I wasn't sure what it meant for Owen making the team. Owen seemed to think that he would, based on how well he performed and because he was friends with Jameson.

But I wasn't so sure. There were no more text messages about working out or stopping by to throw the ball. No more dinners.

I figured he didn't want to give the impression of favorites. But I thought we were forming a friendship of sorts. Maybe even something more.

But it had all ground to a halt.

So when I got the email with the list of the team and Owen was on it, I figured that was the end of our friendship with Jameson.

When I came home on Friday, Owen ran down the steps. "Did you hear anything?"

I nodded. "You made the team."

His eyes widened. "Are you serious?"

"You want to see the list?" I asked him, putting my bag on the bench and pulling out my phone to find the email. I'd hoped for a call or even a text message, but Jameson was treating us like any other parent.

When I pulled up the list, Owen grabbed the phone. "Did Jameson call?"

"He just sent the list."

"It says we have to tell him whether we accept the offer. Have you done that yet?"

"I wanted to talk to you first."

Owen rolled his eyes. "Call him, Mom. Obviously, I want to be on the team."

"You don't think it will be weird that you hung out before?" I asked him, knowing it was only going to be awkward for me.

Owen gave me a disbelieving look. "Why would it be weird?"

I shrugged. "I'll call him after dinner."

"Can you call him now? I don't want him to think I don't want to be on the team."

I sighed. "Fine. I'll do it now."

I took the phone into my office for some privacy, although there was no need for it. When Jameson's voice came over the phone, my ear tingled. His tone was low and deep. I'd never talked to him on the phone before.

"You got my email?"

I swallowed. "I did."

"Well, what does Owen think?" Jameson asked.

"He's excited to be on the team."

Jameson let out a breath. "Good. That's good."

I lowered my voice. "You didn't pick him because you knew him, right?"

"I picked him because he was good enough to make the team. He still has a lot of work to do. But I see him training as the backup quarterback."

I knew enough about football to know what that meant. "Are you serious?"

"He has a great arm. He has the potential. The only thing is the team already has a quarterback."

"I'm sure Owen will be excited to play wherever you put him."

"That's the kind of player I want on the team."

"I'll let him know. Thanks for all your help, Jameson. I don't know if we'd have the same result if you hadn't taken the time with him."

"The kid has potential. Any good coach should be able to see it. But you know how it is. There's so much politics with sports at this age. I just want to field the best team and mold them into responsible, young men. School will always come first with me. Feel free to tell him that."

"I will." I had a feeling Jameson was going to be an amazing coach.

The line fell silent for a few seconds.

I cradled the phone, wishing we were talking for a different reason. That he was coming over for dinner tonight. "I heard you taught today."

"Do you work at the same school?"

I smiled at the rumors I'd heard. The kids were excited and frustrated with Jameson. "I do."

"What were they saying?" Then he sighed, and I couldn't help the smile that spread over my face. "Nope. Don't tell me. I don't want to know."

"Let's just say they respect you."

I heard the smile in his voice. "Good. That's what I was going for."

"I can't say I've heard as much buzz about a substitute teacher before. Usually, there's complaints or even excitement that they were allowed to be on their phone the whole time. But I heard you had a productive day."

"I do my best. I want to do a good job while I'm there."

"It sounds like you're on the right track, and I wouldn't worry about coaching. You're going to be great."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence."

The line between us fell silent. I wanted to ask him if this meant we wouldn't be seeing him off the field anymore, but before I could work up the courage, he said, "I'm getting another call. Probably another football parent. I'll see you at the first practice."

My heart sank. "Bye Jameson."

I was just another football parent, and I needed to remember that. I wasn't anyone special.

When I hung up, Owen appeared in the doorway. "What did he say?"

"He said he thought you'd make a good quarterback."

Owen's eyes widened. "Bryce is the quarterback. Everyone knows that."

"He wants to train you as the backup."

Owen wasn't as excited as I thought he'd be. "Bryce isn't going to like that."

"It's not his decision."

Owen's eyes filled with anxiety. "He can make my life miserable."

"You want me to tell Jameson you don't want to do it?" I asked despite everything inside of me telling me it wasn't the right move.

Owen shook his head. "I want Jameson to know I'm a team player. I'll do whatever he wants."

"But you're worried about how Bryce will treat you at school?"

Owen grimaced. "He's not nice."

"Are you sure you want to be on the team?"

"More than anything. I'm going to tell Logan. Can I?"

Normally, I'd tell him to wait until after dinner, but this was a special thing. "Sure."

Then Owen was gone, and I was left with my thoughts about Jameson being his coach. I was crushing on my son's football coach. Jameson was a good guy. He wanted to do a good job. He wouldn't want anyone to think he was playing favorites. Sometimes being a parent came with sacrifices.

I was sure we wouldn't be seeing him or hearing from him again socially, and it sucked. It was stupid to think anything would have come from it anyway.

I had no idea if Jameson was seriously interested in me. He was younger than me, and we were in different life positions. With my divorce and having a kid to think about, it wasn't a good idea. No matter how much I wanted it to be.

This was for the best. I could fantasize about him coming to the house in his turnout gear. I could remember his voice all low and rumbly and deliciously authoritative when he instructed us on the proper use of a fire extinguisher while I touched myself. It would have to be enough. Because Jameson Calloway would never be more than a fantasy.

He was teaching at the school. I couldn't imagine what the gossip would be if it got around I had the hots for a younger teacher. A hot, young, charming teacher. I'd heard he wore a button-down with a tie, a rarity in the middle school. I would have loved to have seen that. It would have just added more images to my bank.

I was going to have to get used to seeing Jameson from afar. We wouldn't be drinking a beer on my front porch or playing football together anymore. I was used to sacrificing things for my son. This wasn't any different.

My son would still get the best of Jameson at practice, and I would survive. I knew it would be difficult to date when I decided to go it alone. That I might not meet anyone until the circumstances were just right. And now it was looking like it wouldn't happen until Owen was eighteen. Because everyone I met had something to do with my son.

Later that night, after dinner was cleaned up, Owen's homework was finished, and I was lying in my bed, my phone buzzed with an incoming call.

"Jameson?" I answered when I saw the number. My traitorous heart kicked up a notch.

"Sorry about earlier."

I could almost see him running a hand through his hair, making a mess of his dark locks. I wished it were a video call so I could see his expression. "You were busy. You had all those parents calling you."

Jameson chuckled, and the sound reverberated through my ear. "Ones that were happy and unhappy."

"I bet. I'm glad I didn't have to console my son."

"He earned a spot on the team. He has some work to do. But I see potential."

"Thank you for saying that. I was worried."

Jameson sucked in a breath. "The reason I was calling was because I don't think it's a good idea if people knew we were friends before tryouts. The Brians of the world are never going to buy that I didn't know what school Owen attended."

"The Brians of the world?" I asked, genuinely confused.

Jameson sighed. "Sorry. Bryce's dad. He wanted me to assure him that his son was QB one."

"I assume that means this his son will be the starting quarterback?" I felt breathless for some reason. I think it had to do with the intimacy of the situation. I wore satin lingerie pajamas while laying on my bed with his voice in my ear. I wanted to close my eyes and push my hand under my waist band. Would Jameson hear the hitch in my voice? The change in my breathing pattern?

"You're catching on."

I startled a little at his voice. I'd forgotten this was a phone call between former friends, not phone sex. And when had I ever engaged in phone sex? Never. Because I was as boring and straitlaced as Eric claimed.

I flushed at the idea of lusting after a man who was not only younger than me but most likely didn't think of me sexually.

"Are you still there?" Jameson asked, his voice a little softer.

"I am." My voice was lower, huskier. I bit my lip, wondering if he knew what I was thinking.

"So you agree we can't talk to each other like we know each other. We have to keep it professional."

I straightened, his words sending cold water over my skin. "Of course. Professional. Got it."

"The principal sent me an email telling me he heard good things about me today."

I laughed. "You're a massive improvement from the last younger teacher we had subbing."

"Why is that?"

"He snooped through the science teacher's desk, found his nicotine gum—which should have been locked up—and the kids made a huge deal out of it. Within the hour, the entire school was talking about the science teacher doing drugs."

"Wow."

"The sub shouldn't have been snooping in the desk."

"I only ever go in the top drawer for a pencil. I can never seem to remember one."

"Why would you? A pencil isn't exactly a necessity for a firefighter."

Jameson chuckled again, and I wanted this conversation to go on forever.

"But more than that, he let the kids be on their phones and essentially do whatever they wanted. The neighboring teachers had to step in and discipline the students and the teacher."

"Ouch. I wouldn't have wanted to be that guy."

"He's been banned from ever subbing at our school again thankfully. There's no requirement to be a sub. You just need a high school education and be breathing apparently." Then I rushed to add. "I didn't mean anything by that. I was just saying sometimes you don't get teachers as good as you."

"Nice save," Jameson teased.

I'd noticed his smile, and even the dimple that appeared when he did. But now that I could only hear him, his voice was a whole other level of attraction. This fantasy of mine was getting out of control. "I heard good things about your teaching style."

"I want to command respect but also want them to learn and have fun."

"That's a tall order."

"But I'm just a sub. I have some leeway in how much I get through. No one will be surprised if nothing on the agenda gets done. But I like to go above and beyond. I want to be invited back."

"I think you'll be able to do that. I haven't met many subs that were passionate about working with middle schoolers. Most avoid them, staying in the elementary schools where the kids are still sweet and innocent."

"You chose to work with that age group."

"I like the challenge of teaching English at this level. It's really this age group when you can see their writing progress. And I'm working with sixth graders. Of the three years, that one is probably the best."

Silence fell between us, and I hated that this meant we couldn't see or talk to each other outside of pickup at football practices.

"Does this mean you don't need to worry about Owen coming home and cooking when you're not there," Jameson teased.

"It's convenient. I can hang around school and get some grading done, then pick him up from practice."

"If he ever needs a ride, just let me know."

"Wouldn't it look like favoritism if you're just giving him a ride?"

"I'd give any kid a ride who needed it. I just happen to understand the unique challenges of a single mother. You don't have help, do you? His dad, your parents?"

"My parents think that the day-to-day care of a child should fall to the parents. After all, they've already raised their kids."

"I'm sorry. My dad and I and my brothers watch Izzy whenever Daphne needs us. Although, it's less now that she met Cole."

"Oh? How did that come about?" I was very interested in how one juggles being a single mom and dating.

"Well, he works for our rival tree farm, so it started out as a secret thing. They saw each other whenever they could. When it came out, not everyone was happy. But once we realized that Cole was completely taken with Izzy and Daphne, it was hard to stand between them. He's good for her."

"That's so sweet."

"When his cousins confronted him about his relationship with a Calloway, Cole broke things off with Daphne. But then he showed up at Thanksgiving to apologize. It was the way Izzy reacted to him that convinced us to back off. You could see the love she had for him and vice versa. He's since asked the bio dad to relinquish his parental rights, which he did."

"Wow. That's amazing." I'd never ask Eric to relinquish his rights. He was there, just not in the same way I was. He was an okay dad, but I wouldn't mind adding someone to my life who could relate to Owen. And so far, Jameson had proved he could be that guy.

"It took my oldest brother Teddy a little longer to come around. I'm not sure he's there yet, but he's kind of a pain about everything. So we don't worry about him."

"I'm happy for your sister." I'd been determined to make a go of things alone, but Jameson had just given me hope that I could find something with a new man. Even if it wasn't him.

Jameson raised a brow. "What about you?"

"What about me?" I asked, picking at a seam on my pajamas.

"Have you dated since the divorce?"

"Not really. My friends tried to set me up a few times, but it was awkward. One guy said we were the perfect pair because he also had a middle schooler."

"A match made in heaven," Jameson joked.

"Right? As if the fact that we have similarly aged children makes us compatible. It almost made me feel like he was looking for someone to clean and cook for him. He didn't say that, but—"

"I can see why you thought that. So what you're saying is, you haven't had fun dating after your divorce?" Jameson asked lightly.

"Not at all. I'm not even sure how to navigate it."

"You should have some fun." His words danced over my skin.

"I'm a single mom. I'm not sure I can handle fun."

Jameson chuckled. "I bet you can. You just have to meet the right guy."

What if the right guy was in front of me, but he wasn't interested? The thought hurt more than I cared to admit. "I'm busy between work and Owen."

"You should make time for yourself. Is Owen still going to the gym?"

"He's riding his bike over. He said the weights are a little too easy now."

"Can I send him a new one? Maybe I could email it to you later tonight?"

"Sure."

"I'll email it over later tonight. I'd better let you go."

The silence between us was heavy. This was the last time we had any reason to speak over the phone socially. There would be no more shared dinners or practicing football in the front yard. It would be easier if I did it quickly like pulling off a Band-Aid. "Night, Jameson."

"Night, Claire."

My name on his lips felt like a caress, and my hand trembled slightly when I hit the End button on my phone.

I set it on my nightstand. Then turned off the lamp and slid under the sheets. With the sound of his voice in my ear, I slid my hand under my panties and brought myself to an orgasm thinking of the muscles of his arms bulging as he held himself over me.

I wasn't sure I was going to survive these new roles in each other's lives. But it was for the best. Nothing could come from it anyway.