14. Emily

EMILY

"Have you been online today?"Sabrina asked, her eyes dancing as she ran over to me on the field. We only had a few games left and we were about even in wins and losses, but the kids were having fun and so was I. Soccer had once again become my joy, albeit for different reasons.

"I haven't," I said as I threw my bag behind our bench. "What did I miss?"

I'd avoided Jesse other than short texts and quick small talk at practice this week, but the thought of how I'd found him still upset me, and I was still worried sick over him. I'd believed him when he'd promised never to drink alone like that again, and I hoped what had happened last weekend had shocked him enough to deal with his grief rather than bury it for both his and his niece's sake.

When I wasn't worrying about Jesse, thoughts of finishing what we'd started played on an endless loop in my brain, along with what I would have done if he'd asked me to touch him and kiss him when he was sober—when I wouldn't have to wonder if he really meant it.

Not that I didn't believe he'd meant it. Drinking had loosened his inhibitions, but the pure lust in his eyes was real. So real, when I closed my eyes at night, it haunted me. I could still feel his arms around me, thicker and stronger than when we were young, clutching me like a lifeline. My fingertips tingled with the memory of tracing his broad shoulders when he'd pulled me on top of him, groaning into my mouth as it was glued to his.

Jesse and I could never just be friends. The pull between us was too strong, but friendship was the only thing on the table because he'd said he couldn't offer anything else, and I didn't know if that would ever change.

I'd spent a lot of time, more than I cared to remember, waiting for Jesse. For the first few weeks after our breakup, I'd still expected him to come to my house and take it back. I'd even searched for him in the stands during my first few college games, wishing for a romance-novel-worthy reunion where I'd run into his arms and he'd tell me he couldn't live without me.

Then I'd stopped waiting—for him or anyone else. He'd always have a big piece of my heart, but I'd needed to guard the rest of it.

"First of all, you didn't tell me you met with Sharon."

"I didn't. Not really. We spoke over video one night for maybe fifteen minutes. She said she wanted to pick my brain for something she was working on about female entrepreneurs."

"Well, she highlighted you in a post across all her platforms. It ended up in my Facebook feed because she tagged you. And the funniest part, she took one of our high school yearbook pictures and photoshopped it to look like you're posing like besties." She handed me her phone.

"Ten thousand likes already?" I said, bringing the phone closer. "Oh wow. Raina Nello liked the post."

"Who's that?"

"She was on the US World Cup team back in the nineties. My grandfather always cut out articles that mentioned her and would show them to me. She was an Italian American woman and a soccer star, and because I played and was half Italian American, he felt she was relevant to my interests." I laughed, a little breathless from being starstruck. He'd brought her to my attention, but I'd followed her career throughout college, even when I'd decided not to try to go professional.

"And I recognize that picture. That was the photo we all took on the lawn for graduation." I tapped the screen with the tip of my nail. "Remember when they made us assemble into the numbers of our year to take an overhead shot? She ended up behind me, and I remember her complaining about not being more in front."

"She edited out an entire crowd? I am super impressed. She's got skills." She took back the phone and angled the screen to her face. "It's a nice piece, though. I could see you getting a lot of new clients from this."

"I'm busy enough, and I like to get new clients by word of mouth. But I guess it's nice of her to do, regardless of her angle."

"It was the best laugh as I got ready for today." She slid her phone back into the pocket of her leggings. "I was hoping it would cheer you up."

"I don't need cheering up. I'm fine."

She pursed her lips and nodded. I'd ended up at her apartment the morning after I'd taken Jesse home and spent the night. She'd listened to the whole sordid story and, to her credit, had stayed mostly stoic without forcing any advice because, really, what was there to say? Either we addressed what was between us, or we stayed away from each other for another twenty years or for good this time.

But she'd been hovering a little over the past week, as if she was waiting for me to finally break.

I was close but keeping it to myself.

"I mean it," I told her, trying to infuse my voice with the confidence I didn't have. "Really."

"Okay, fine," she said, nodding to the corner by the bench. "The kids are already lined up. I love how they're trained."

"They are," I said, a smile sneaking across my mouth. They still had trouble channeling their energy on the field, but I loved their excitement, even if it exhausted me by the end of a game.

"Hey, Emily. Can I talk to you?"

Alex had been the ref for the last couple of games, and while I wouldn't admit to Jesse that he was right, Alex always lingered by me more than other coaches. I was cordial but distant, as I didn't need opposing teams thinking his attention on me meant that my team would have an unfair advantage. He was good-looking enough, but I wasn't interested. Not only because of my current Jesse problems.

I appreciated a confident man, but Alex toed the line between confident and full of himself. At least full of himself to the point of not taking a hint or ignoring it.

"Sure, what's up?"

I glared at Sabrina over his shoulder as she fluttered her eyelashes behind him.

"I saw on Facebook you're a big-time editor. Penny told me a little about it, but I didn't realize you had so many famous clients."

"I don't know if I'd say big-time, but?—"

"I've had a manuscript I've wanted to publish for years but never had the guts to try. Maybe we could have dinner, and we could talk about it?"

"I'm not taking new clients right now. My schedule is pretty booked."

"Well, it's been sitting there for years. It can sit some more until you're ready." He smiled, his voice dropping to a new raspy octave. "I just thought I could get some ideas from you."

I peered over at my kids, all staring at us. At least Jesse wasn't here to get all alpha over Alex today and seethe every time he'd try to speak to me. The last time we texted, he'd mentioned that his mother was bringing Maddie today and he'd try to catch the end of the game after his work meeting was over.

Alex was one of those people who wouldn't let it go until you agreed to meet. Without an audience, I hoped I could fully let him down as a potential client or anything else he had in mind.

"I have some time this evening. There's a coffee shop by Sunrise?—"

"I'll buy you dinner instead. It's the least I can do for you making the time." His smile deepened, and my sneakers felt like they were in quicksand. "How's Julianna's at six?"

"Hey, Coach. Time to start soon," Sabrina called out, tapping her watch.

"Fine. Julianna's at six. I'll meet you there."

"So, it's a date. Awesome. Have a good game," he said, beaming at me as he jogged off without giving me a chance to correct him.

"Okay, kids," I said, ambling over to where they sat on the grass. "Like I told you last game, pass the ball rather than crowd?—"

"Coach Emily has a date," Mikayla, a beautiful little girl with black hair and wide dark eyes, announced to the entire team.

"Is he taking you to dinner or drinks?" Jeffrey asked. "My uncle told my dad yesterday he only does drink dates at first so he can leave fast if the girl is boring."

"Well, my cousin says that a guy who doesn't ask you to dinner isn't worth going out with." Mikayla flipped her silky pigtail over one shoulder.

"You can't have a date at a fast-food restaurant," Candie, my tallest girl, piped in, her blond curls swaying as she shook her head. "My mom didn't speak to my dad for like a whole week after he took her to McDonald's on a date night. I don't know why she was so mad. I love McDonald's."

My eyes fell on Maddie, peering up at me with an expression I couldn't decipher. Her gaze was curious but not upset. I wondered what, if anything, she'd picked up on between her uncle and me, but maybe she just thought of us as friends.

I'd hoped the kids hadn't heard Alex say date or would know what that meant, but I guessed they knew more about dating than I did.

"She's going to Julianna's," Mikayla told Candie. "They have the good warm bread with the oil and pepper plate. That's a date." She smiled and gave me an enthusiastic thumbs-up.

"Okay, guys, this is all great advice, but you have a game to play," Sabrina said, clapping her hands. "Listen to Coach Emily." Her eyes were wide when she found my gaze. I grimaced back and nodded, grabbing my whistle as I surveyed all the young eyes on me.

"Okay, everyone. Let's have a great game and have fun," I said, trying for an easy and relaxed smile before I blew the whistle for them to line up. They scurried to the field, but Maddie lingered behind and padded over to where Sabrina and I stood behind the line.

"Everything okay, Maddie?" I asked, my heart dropping to my stomach at the concerned crease in her brow.

"My mom went on a date a couple of times. She got really dressed up and wore these," Maddie said, flicking her earlobes. They were the gold butterflies she always wore that seemed too big for her ears, but I let her wear them when she played since they were posts and didn't dangle.

"She must have looked very beautiful, just like you."

She beamed up at me, getting me choked up as usual, but now I could add guilt to the mix of emotions—even though I wasn't sure where it was coming from.

"So, you have a date with the ref," Sabrina quipped as the kids lined up.

"He said he saw I was a big-time editor on Facebook and wants to talk about his book with me. I figured I'd meet him for coffee so I could just say no and be clear about it without the kids around, but he cornered me into dinner."

"Fucking Sharon," she said and burst out laughing.

"Fucking Sharon," I agreed and headed to the field to watch my kids play and forget what I'd gotten myself into.