13. Sloane

CHAPTER 13

SLOANE

C am’s been avoiding me since the boat trip and our maybe-almost kiss. I’m not sure what happened between the lake and the house, but he’s been acting strange ever since. Aloof and like he can’t wait to get away from me, out of Thunder Creek.

Well, fuck that noise.

I’ve had about all I can take in the guys-and-games department.

Deciding the best offense is a good defense, I do my own thing and try fervently not to worry about him. Easier said than done, but I can certainly try.

My first order of business on Monday is applying for the job I saw posted at Java Jolt. I pop through the doors of the Thunder Creek library wearing my brightest smile and my cutest yellow sundress. I could use this job—both for the money and the distraction—and what better gig is there than helping people find a good book? Nothing quite beats the blues like getting lost in a book.

Walking through the main lobby area, I pass tall shelves of books on display: the New Release section, the Librarian’s Choice picks. Off to the left is the Children’s Department, filled with toddlers eager for story time, bouncing around on the colorful carpet tiles. The same cozy bean bags sit in the corner beneath the window, the exact spot where I’d sit for hours devouring every chapter book I could get my hands on.

I sashay through the Reference section, the distinctive scent of ink and paper hitting me as I head over to the information desk.

“Hi. I’m Sloane Carter and I’m here to apply for the part-time job y’all have advertised.”

The clerk glances up at me from her computer, her fingers hovering on the keyboard. She’s probably in her early forties, with brunette hair cut in a stylish lob. Her name tag reads ‘Megan.’

“Did you say Carter? As in Coach Carter?”

“Yes, ma’am. That’s my dad.”

“My son, Langley, plays football for the team. Your dad’s quite the coach. Langley adores him.” She beams up at me and I smile and nod politely, used to people having a strong opinion of my dad, one way or the other.

To everyone in town, my dad’s Coach Carter, football coach extraordinaire. To me, he’s just dad. The man who scrambled my eggs in the morning before school and learned how to French braid for Picture Day, taught me to ride a bike and kissed my skinned knees when I inevitably crashed.

“Mabel! Coach Carter’s daughter’s here, applying for the job!” she whisper-shouts over her shoulder at the woman transferring books from the rolling cart to the bookshelves behind the desk.

“Sloane?” Ms. Mabel spins around and peers over at me. “I knew you were back in town, but I thought you were just visiting.”

Ms. Mabel swishes over to the desk, reaching over and squeezing me in a hug. “So grown. I remember when you used to come in for the summer reading program. Won the grand prize when you were only seven years old, if I recall.”

I smile, a hot blush creeping from my chest up my neck. “Yes, the summer before third grade. I got a huge teddy bear and a gift certificate to Swirly-Q. I always loved the summer reading program.”

“So, are you back in Thunder Creek for good then?” Ms. Mabel asks, scrunching her nose.

“I’m not exactly sure at the moment, to be honest. But I could use a summer job and you know I love this library.”

“Yes, dear, I do know that. But I’m afraid the pay isn’t great, not like a city salary you’re probably accustomed to. There’ve been a bunch of budget cuts, but we’re hanging in.”

“That’s fine. I mostly want to keep myself busy and get out of the house.”

“Well, in that case, you’re hired. Monday through Friday, from two to six p.m. You can help shelve books, work the desk with Meg. And you’ll be in charge of the Children’s Department—including the summer reading program.”

Ms. Mabel reaches into the desk, pulling out a single sheet of paper. “Fill this out and you can start as soon as the county scoots you through Human Resources.”

“Wonderful.” I beam at both ladies, genuine excitement bubbling inside me.

Taking the paper, I complete the form before handing it back to Ms. Mabel along with my driver’s license. She makes a photocopy of both, then returns my license and the copy of the application.

“It’s great to see you back in town, Sloane. I’ll let you know as soon as I hear anything back from the county. Your cell number’s on here, right?” Ms. Mabel scans the form for my phone number.

“Yes, ma’am. And thank you, Ms. Mabel. I look forward to working here!”

“Anytime, dear. Tell your daddy hi from me.”

“Will do.”

I wave and skip out of the library, feeling lighter and more content than I have in a long while.

“How’d practice go, Dad?”

“It went fine. Team could be real good. They’re pretty green—we’re losing a bunch of our seniors—but there’s some talent there.”

“Nice.” I dry the last dinner dish, then stack the plate in the cabinet with its buddies. “Great news—I got a job today.”

“You did? That’s fantastic, baby. Where? With Gracelyn at the salon?”

“Nope. Better. At the library.”

“That’s perfect for you.”

“I know. It’s only part-time, but I get to run the summer reading program, which is cool. Ms. Mabel’s still working there, so I was a shoo-in for the job. Hey—I met one of your player’s mom’s too. Langley or something like that?” I frown, trying to remember.

“Yeah. Good kid. He’s one of the two up for the quarterback spot next year. ”

“Well, apparently he adores you. Sounds like his mom’s a big fan too,” I tease, grinning as his cheeks turn bright pink beneath his tan.

My dad hates when I mention women around him. He’s practically taken a vow of chastity at this point, which I don’t get. I mean, yeah, when I was a kid, sure. It made sense then. He had me straight out of high school and I know he struggled during those early years, with my mom totally out of the picture. We lived with Mimi and Poppa the first few years of my life when money was tight, his plans for a professional football career shattered. The man didn’t exactly have a whole lot of time to date.

But now I’m almost thirty freaking years old. He doesn’t need to take care of me anymore—not much, anyway. I’m grown, I’d be fine with my dad dating. Honestly, maybe it would take some of the pressure off me if he got a life of his own outside of football and Thunder Creek High.

Plus, objectively, he’s the most eligible bachelor in town. Not that I love thinking about him like that or anything, but I get it. There aren’t that many single guys hanging around Thunder Creek, especially ones as good-looking and accomplished as my dad. I’ve seen more than one woman throw herself at him, hoping to catch his eye.

But the man has a one-track mind, I swear. And that track is football.

I can’t recall him going on even a single date. And believe you me, I would remember something that earth-shattering.

“Kid’s got real talent. I paired him up with Cam today. I’m interested to see what he thinks.”

My ears perk up at the mention of Cam. “Cam went to practice then?” I keep my eyes on the silverware, drying each individual tine of the fork I’m holding meticulously.

“Yeah. You didn’t see him before practice?”

“Nope. Haven’t seen him all day.”

“Huh.”

I hold my breath, waiting for more information, but nothing comes. My dad’s never been big on chitchat.

“How’d he look out there?” I ask, mining for any nugget I can get.

“Cam? He looked good. I’m surprised he got cut from his team, truth be told. I don’t see a ton of weaknesses in his game. Sure, he could be more explosive at times. But his accuracy and speed are both good, his endurance seems fine.”

A gnawing sensation grinds deep in my belly as I remember the convo Cam and I had right here in this kitchen.

Attitude problem.

Bad reputation.

What the hell did he do to warrant getting axed from the team? I may not understand all the ins and outs of being in the league, but seems like you’d have to do something pretty awful to get fired. I mean, guys end up in jail before that happens sometimes.

“Dad—did Cam tell you anything about why he got cut? When you had your heart-to-heart out on the porch?” I set the fork down, glancing over my shoulder at my dad.

He shrugs. “Not really. He’s not in trouble with the law or anything like that. That’s always a big thing with the league. So I’m not really sure. And it’s none of my business, either.”

I bite the inside of my cheek and hold my eye roll in check. Of course that would be my dad’s perspective. Always staying above the fray of town gossip. So aggravating.

He’s worthless in that department, I swear.

“Listen—” He drops his voice lower, his green eyes serious. “I know you and Cam have always been friends. And he seems like he could use a friend. Now more than ever.”

“Yeah, okay—” I sense a big-ass ‘but’ coming on, judging by the tight line of his lips.

“It’s fine for you to be a shoulder to cry on. You’ve always been a good listener, a good friend. But be careful getting involved.”

The knot in my stomach tightens and my face heats. Am I that obvious?

“I imagine you might be reeling from the break-up with that fella in New Orleans. Never liked him, by the way. I mean, you brought home a Dallas fan. Really?”

I force out a strained laugh, even as my chest squeezes tight and my palms slick with sweat.

“I thought I raised you better than that.” He shakes his head, scrubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “Anyway, what I’m trying to say is, I think Cam’s in a bad spot. Be his friend, but leave it at that.”

I suck in a deep breath, nodding. I’m not entirely surprised we’re having this conversation—he’s never been too keen on me dating anyone—but I am a little shocked.

Because it’s Cam.

He loves Cam.

His golden boy. The player who made it out of Thunder Creek, all the way to the pros.

If Cam’s not good enough for me, who the hell is?

“Sure, Daddy. Got it. Be a good friend. Just like they taught me in Sunday School. But keep my clothes on. ”

My dad turns beet-red and slams his hands into the pockets of his cargo shorts. “You get what I’m saying, Sloane.”

I shoot him a sassy grin. “I do. You’re fun to tease, though.”

“Night, baby girl.” He steps forward and presses a kiss to my forehead. “See you tomorrow.”

He heads to his bedroom for the night, leaving me alone in the kitchen. I doubt my dad needs to worry about anything happening between me and Cam, considering Cam’s done an excellent job of avoiding me since the incident on the sandbar.

So close, yet so far.

I probably misread the whole damn situation. Between me and Gracelyn, you’d think we were starring in our own rom-com or something. Except the romance bit seems to be entirely one-sided—and that realization is more depressing than breaking off my engagement with Ratface.

I should listen to my dad and leave Cam alone. But what my head knows and my heart wants seem to be two entirely different things.