Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

GABBY

I sit in my car, staring at the school in front of me as Bower goes on and on about a piece of chocolate cake she experienced.

Yes, she experienced it, not ate it . . . that she experienced .

I’ve heard that it was life-changing.

That it was orgasmic.

That it was unlike anything she’s ever put in her mouth.

And even though I’m happy for my friend that she found a piece of chocolate cake that really suits her needs, I need her to focus on me.

Selfish?

Maybe.

But a piece of chocolate cake does not overtake the situation that I’m currently living.

So while she’s describing the sprinkles that were on top of the cake, I cut in, “We had sex.”

She pauses.

She pauses long enough that I swear I can hear her thinking from the other side of the phone.

“Umm . . . what?” she asks, popping her lips.

“Ryland and I had sex.”

“Yes, I’m aware. Why are you bringing this up again?”

“No, we had sex again.”

“Wait, for a second time? Even after he said there would be no distractions allowed?”

“Yup,” I say. “It happened last night. He fucked me in the downstairs bathroom.” Whispering, I say, “I can still feel the way he gripped my hips.”

“Dear God,” she sighs. “How did this happen?”

“Well, that’s the shitty part. He wasn’t himself last night, and I asked him if he wanted to talk about it because, I don’t know, he seems like a good guy, and he took pictures of my apartment because he wants to replicate it for his house, and I thought that was cute, and technically, he’s a single dad?—”

“You’re rambling, Gabby.”

“I know because I feel shitty, like really shitty, because he was upset about his assistant coach last night. I guess they’re making accommodations for me that I never asked for and that I don’t even know about, and he feels out of control and?—”

“Um, do you not remember how he didn’t even pay you the courtesy to show up to the interview? Or have you forgotten that?”

I pause because she’s right. I did forget about that.

Still . . .

“I know, but I still feel bad.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s . . . he’s a single dad in a way, and he seems out of his element. I don’t know, maybe because he was fucking his assistant coach last night, and he had no idea.”

“Yeah, that could be it. Maybe you should tell him, clear your conscience.”

“I feel like I need to, but I’m here at the school first because I want to talk to the principal and let him know that I don’t want any special concessions. I don’t want to step on toes. I’m just happy they hired me. I want to work hard and earn my position.”

“You know I love a go-getter, but . . . what kind of concessions because if we’re talking you get your own en suite bathroom, I think this is something we should negotiate.”

“It’s a public school, Bower, there are no such things as en suite bathrooms.”

“Uh, I bet they have them in a kindergarten classroom. Take one of those.”

“You want me to take a classroom from the kindergartners? What is wrong with you?”

“I’m power hungry,” she says. “I’m okay with flapping a dick around and demanding what we want.”

“First of all, we’re not flapping a dick around. Second, I won’t make any friends if I’m stealing classrooms from five-year-olds. I want to go undetected.”

“Suit yourself, but don’t come crying to me when the annoying, quirky, yet obtuse teacher, Miss Meghan, won’t let you pee in peace.”

“I’ll manage.” I get out of my car and lock up before I head toward the brick building.

I will say this, for being a public school, the grounds are very well maintained. And I know this school has been around for decades, given the architecture, but there isn’t any paint chipped, or a broken window, or a door hanging off a hinge. It’s pristine, well taken care of, without any vandalized spaces in sight.

“You know, I feel like you call me, but you never take my advice. What’s that about?”

“You give terrible advice, Bower.”

“Then why do you call me?”

“Honestly,” I say. “I’m questioning that this very minute.”

“Hurtful, Gabby. When you say things like that, it makes me not want to answer the phone when you call.”

“Please, you would never not answer. You thrive off the gossip.”

She sighs heavily. “You’re right. You feed me well with the drama. Let me know what happens with the principal and if he even offers you the kindergarten classroom. If he does, don’t turn it down right away. Let’s at least take a tour of it before we give him our decision.”

“You are deranged, but I love you.”

“I’ll love you more if you score us an en suite bathroom.”

“Us? You don’t even live here.”

“I might if your classroom has an en suite bathroom.”

“Oh my God, goodbye, Bower.”

“Bye, love you,” she drags out.

Chuckling, I hang up the phone and head into the school entry, where I stop to talk to the admin at the door. I show her my ID and tell her that I’m here to speak with Principal Herbert. She unlocks the door, letting me in, then directs me toward his office.

“He should be out soon.”

“Thank you,” I say as I sit in one of the chairs outside his office. Most likely, these are the chairs the students sit in when they’re in trouble. I never sat in one, but Bennett did. I can still remember the look he gave me when I arrived in the principal’s office. He had a black eye and a grin. He wasn’t even the slightest bit nervous about what would happen to him.

He got in a fight with a kid at school. The kid was picking on him all week when he found out Bennett was a foster kid. Bennett put him in his place right before he was knocked out by a door that was flung open. He took out the bully, and the door took him out.

He still laughs about it to this day. He thought he was some badass, sticking up for himself, only to be humbled by an entry point. Luckily, he just had to do some community service—trash pickup for four weekends around the school—and all was forgiven.

The door, though? I still think Bennett has a vendetta against it.

I choose a seat directly across from the office so Herbert sees me when he opens the door. I cross one leg over the other and attempt to get comfortable just as the door opens, and Ryland Rowley pops out.

Shit.

It takes about two seconds for him to see me, and when he does, his expression is a mixture of confusion and irritation.

“Oh, Gabby, what perfect timing,” Herbert says. “We were just talking about you.”

“We were?” Ryland looks between the two of us, clearly searching for answers.

Oh boy.

Here is the moment of truth.

“Yes, this is Gabriel, or Gabby as she likes to be called. She’s your new assistant coach.”

Ryland’s head snaps so quickly that I swear it might tear off. “You?” he asks, pointing at me. “ You are my new assistant?”

Cue the nervous laughter and terrified wave.

I stand from the chair and clench my hands together. “Um . . . yes.”

“Do you remember her?” Herbert asks. “She’s Bennett Brinkman’s sister.”

“Wait, what?” Ryland’s head looks like it’s about to explode, and I don’t blame him. This must be a bit much for him, and I didn’t make it easy. I probably should have told him earlier.

“Bennett Brinkman, currently in the farm system, one of the best prospects out there. He was an All-American here,” Herbert continues, clearly not reading the room very well.

“I know who Bennett is, but . . .” Ryland studies me. “I don’t . . . I don’t recall . . .”

“I sat in the outfield most of the time,” I say. “I didn’t like being around the parents. I think we met a few times, but, you know, nothing that made an impact.”

Ryland runs his hand across his forehead. “You have no qualifications. What the fuck makes you think you can coach with me?”

Okay, seems like we’re choosing anger.

I don’t blame him.

I’m kind of throwing him for a loop at the moment.

“Ryland,” Herbert says in a disapproving tone.

“No, Herbert. I want to know. What team has she coached before? What’s her résumé?” He’s fuming.

He’s fuming so much that I actually feel my body start to shake, which means my ability to defend myself becomes smaller and smaller—something I truly hate.

Thankfully, Herbert steps in and says, “She doesn’t have experience coaching a team.”

“Oh, wonderful. Just the candidate I was looking for,” he says sarcastically. “Someone with zero experience.”

“Hold on,” Herbert says as I try to find my voice. “If you let me finish, I was going to say that she coached Bennett. And Bennett’s talent is a wonderful testament to how she can handle coaching. And what David said, under your tutelage, she can understand the mechanics of running a ball club.”

“Under my tutelage?” He points at his chest. “So she can steal my job, just like she’s stealing my office?”

“I don’t want to steal your office,” I say, finding my voice.

“Too late, it’s already been done.”

He starts to move past us when Herbert says, “Ryland, we should really talk this through.”

“No, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he says. “Because if I start talking, you’re not going to like what comes out of my mouth.”

And with that, he heads out of the office and straight for the exit.

“I’m sorry about that,” Herbert says. “He’s . . . he’s been going through a rough time.”

“It’s fine,” I say. “I actually came here to tell you I don’t want you to make any special concessions for me. I don’t want his office. I don’t want anything from him. I just want to be able to do my job and do it well. I want to earn my spot. I don’t want things handed to me.”

“Well, that’s very commendable of you, Miss Brinkman. Why don’t you come into my office, and we can chat some more?”

I nod and let him lead the way. But nothing is taking away the pain in my gut, knowing how Ryland must be feeling so blindsided. I did that to him. And he certainly didn’t deserve that.

The canned laughter from The Big Bang Theory fills my apartment as I lean back on my couch and sip on my water. I skipped the shower tonight and opted for a washcloth-type rinse because, well . . . I was too afraid to go into the lion’s den.

With my luck, he’s pacing at the door, ready to attack.

Nope, I took my chances with a washcloth and some soap . . . and some good scrubbing.

Tomorrow, I might attempt to take a shower when I see that his truck is no longer in the driveway.

Until then, it’s just me and my water and?—

Bang. Bang. Bang.

A shiver of fear pulses up my spine as I look toward my door.

Oh God.

It’s him.

It has to be him.

And he’s . . . still seething.

Heart pounding, I swallow the lump of saliva in my throat and call out, “Yes?”

“Let me the fuck in,” Ryland says, growling through the door, ready to attack.

Umm, I don’t foresee this going well for me, so I shoot off a quick text to Bower.

Gabby: If you don’t hear from me by tomorrow morning, Ryland murdered me and disposed of my dead body via garbage disposal.

“Gabby, now,” he says, his voice growing angrier by the second.

Heading toward my doom, I turn off the television and walk to the door. I unlock it and start to open the door, only for him to do it for us both. He charges into the room like a raging bull, then quickly spins around to look at me when he pauses at the kitchenette table.

“Shut the door.”

“Are you sure?” I ask. “It would be better for people to hear my screams when you murder me.”

“Shut . . . the . . . door,” he repeats, and this time, a tiny droplet of spittle flies off his lip.

I do as I’m told because I fear his head will pop off if I don’t, creating a mess all over my beautiful, soft area rug. And let me tell you, it’s an absolute bitch to clean. The last thing I need are bloodstains on a cream carpet.

He angrily pushes his hand through his hair and turns on me. “What the actual fuck? You knew this whole goddamn time, and you didn’t say anything to me?”

Yup, this is going to be way worse than I imagined.

I clench my hands together in front of me. “I did. And honestly, I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t expect you to be my landlord. I didn’t expect you to be so . . . brash at first, and well, I was trying to settle in before everything happened.”

He takes a step closer and says in a terse tone, “You fucked me last night. You fucked me knowing that we were going to have to work together. Why?”

I pull on my bottom lip, trying to find an excuse, anything that would make sense, but I come up short. “I don’t know, Ryland. I got caught up in the moment, and I . . . I had fun that first night. Not to mention?—”

“That first night,” he says, standing taller. “Hold on, did you lie to me that first night?”

Oh boy . . .

I take a calming breath. “Listen?—”

“Un-fucking-believable,” he yells as he heads toward the door.

No, he can’t leave, not in the middle like this, not when we have to work together.

“You weren’t there,” I say before he takes a step outside of the door.

“What?” he asks.

“You weren’t at the interview. It was . . . it was insulting. I didn’t think I did a good job, and when I ran into you at the bar that night, I thought there was a chance that you would recognize me. And when you didn’t, well, I went with it. I always thought you were extremely attractive, and I took a chance on spending one night with you. I had zero inclination that I’d get the job, and I was trying to make a shitty day not be so shitty.”

He pauses, his brows slowly lowering. “I wasn’t at the interview because I wasn’t invited.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“I mean exactly what I said. I wasn’t invited. David, the guy who hired you, kept me out of the hiring process and offered you the job without consulting me. I’ve been kept in the dark this entire fucking time. So yeah, this is all a big fucking surprise to me.”

“Oh,” I say, feeling bad now because if I would have known that, I wouldn’t have pursued him. I sort of went for it that night out of spite. “I didn’t know that.”

“So you just used me that night?”

“Uh, hold on.” I hold up my hand. “You were an equal participant. We used each other. And I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

“If that were the case, then why did you take the job?”

“Because I needed it,” I say in a stern voice. “I need this job, Ryland. I don’t have it as easy as you?—”

“Easy?” he shouts. “You fucking think my life is easy?”

“You just bought a gigantic house. You’re the head coach of one of the most premiere high school baseball teams. You have a family. You have it pretty easy.”

He takes a step even closer now, so close that I can smell his woodsy cologne. “My life has been anything but easy. You’re just seeing it from the outside. You have no fucking clue what I’ve been through or what I’m going through.”

“Ryland—”

“Do you think I’m just taking care of my niece for the fun of it?”

“I—”

“I’m not,” he says, getting so close I can practically taste him. “My sister Cassidy died a few months ago from breast cancer, and she made me promise to take care of Mac. Mac doesn’t have a mom or a dad. She lost both of them, and I’m her sole provider, the one person she can fucking count on. And that house? I purchased that house with the money my sister left us and what I saved up when I had to sell my place and uproot my life to take care of my niece. I wanted to get my niece out of the house where she watched her mom slowly die and put a smile back on her face. I needed to pull her out of this funk she’s been living in. That was not self-indulgent. That was a last-ditch effort to do the right thing in the honor of my sister’s name.”

Oh my God.

I . . . I had no idea.

I feel my eyes well up as I say, “I’m . . . I’m so sorry, Ryland.”

He takes a step back. “I don’t need your pity.”

My brows turn down. “I’m not offering you pity. I’m offering you condolences.”

“I don’t need those either.” He pulls on the back of his neck and stares at the wall behind me as silence falls between us.

Because where do we go from here?

I need this job.

I need this apartment.

I need this opportunity to prove myself in the sports field.

And just because things are complicated doesn’t mean I need to give that all up.

I clear my throat. “Maybe we can find a way to make this all work.”

“Find a way to make it work?” he asks, then shakes his head. “No, there’s no way this is going to work.”

“You’re not even giving it a chance.”

“Because this is so fucked up,” he shouts. “Jesus Christ, Gabby. Did you really have to fuck me last night? You could have left me alone. You could have walked out of the house. But no, you told me you wanted to suck me off, knowing . . . knowing the situation. Do you know how complicated that makes this?”

“It was a lapse in judgment, Ryland. Okay? We all make mistakes.”

“That was a big mistake. Because what the fuck am I supposed to do now?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean . . .” He looks me up and down. “How the hell am I supposed to coach knowing you’re standing next to me?”

“I don’t understand.”

He tosses his hand to the side. “I fucking like you, Gabby. I don’t want to admit it, but I do. I’m attracted to you. I love being inside you. I love hearing the way you moan when you come and the way your tight cunt squeezes my cock . . . it’s fucking addictive.” He grows closer again. “How the fuck am I supposed to deal with that when you’re working so close to me?”

“First of all, that’s not my problem,” I say. “The way your body reacts to me is your issue, not mine. Second of all, it’s not going to be a cakewalk for me either, hence why I couldn’t leave your house yesterday. Why I let you undo my robe. And why I dropped down to my knees.”

His chest grows heavy as he wets his lips. That same look he gave me last night reappears, the look that says he can lose control and take what he wants in a matter of seconds.

“You can’t take the job.”

That snaps me right out of the haze I was being sucked into.

I take a step back. “Excuse me?”

“We can’t work together. There’s history.”

“Then learn to deal with it,” I say. “I’m taking the job.”

“You can’t be fucking serious.”

“I am serious. And the audacity for you to even mention that I don’t take the job . . . because you can’t handle it? Well . . . fuck you, Ryland. The world doesn’t revolve around you. You’re not the only one who hasn’t had it easy. I need this job, and I’m not about to give it up because of your inability to control your urges.”

“That’s not what it’s about,” he says even though that’s what it feels like.

I cross my arms. “Then what is it about?”

“The proximity is too close. You live next to me, and you’re going to work next to me. We have to coach together. There’s too fucking much. Not to mention, you lied to me, and you don’t have any experience.”

“I have plenty of experience,” I say. “I might not have formal coaching experience like you, but I know everything there is to know about baseball. I trained and coached Bennett from when he was younger to where he is today. Even to this day, he’ll send me videos of his at-bats, and I’ll tell him what he can adjust. I’m a huge asset to you, and you’re too stubborn to even give me a chance.”

“Because I don’t know you,” he yells. “I know nothing about you other than you lied to me about who you are and that you’re my tenant with a broken shower.”

“Well, maybe you should spend some time getting to know me,” I say with a lift of my chin.

He shakes his head and starts moving away. “I have no interest.”

“Then this will be a very long season for you, Ryland. Very long.”