2. Avery

After the Super Bowl, I went straight into my favorite season: baseball. I was head of the physical education department at our town’s high school, and for the past five years, I’d been the assistant coach for our baseball team. That was until this year, when Head Coach Erikson stepped down, giving me a real shot at running the team. Over the past few years, my sisters considered me the head coach even though it wasn’t an official title. Coach Erikson made sure to keep me beneath him, making it hard for me to help the team.

He had a lot of old-school coaching thoughts. He was in his late sixties, and he and I butted heads often. I was looking forward to proving that the Honey Creek Hornets weren’t a bad team—they simply had bad leadership behind them.

The first weeks of February were our preseason, and I was thrilled to get started again. I took pride in the sport more than anything even though our team wasn’t the best. Still, we had some pretty impressive players I thought could make it to the big leagues. I believed in those boys and knew they could do amazing things on the field if given the right direction.

Cameron Fisher was one of those players. At least he had been until he went through a big personal loss last semester. I could see it in his game that losing his mother did quite a number on him. I was still trying to figure out how best to help the kid, seeing how he was a junior now and scouts were highly interested in his game. That was until recently.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry…

Oh balls. The kid was going to cry.

Cameron stood at the plate, biting his bottom lip to push down the tears cooking in the back of his eyes. He was already two strikes down, and based on his lip-biting and elbow-trembling, he was about to get his third out.

Lately, Cameron has had stage fright. He was easily the best player on the team. That boy could hit a home run with his eyes closed during baseball practice, yet when it came to playing against another team, he froze up like a TV dinner left in the back of a freezer for over a year.

I sat in the dugout with my hands clenched together, silently chanting the same thing I chanted every time Cameron was up to bat.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry…

He stepped into his batting stance and held his bat in the perfect position. His fellow teammates cheered him on, clapping from the dugout. They knew exactly what I knew was about to happen, but they still cheered him on because that meant being a good teammate.

I glanced at the scouts in the stands. What an awful game to come see Cameron play. He was better than this, but all they were seeing was the opposite of that fact. It wasn’t fair, but the kid was living too much in his head and not enough in his heart as of late. I didn’t blame him. After I lost my mother, I moved through life as if in quicksand, getting nowhere at all. Still, I hated that it was happening to Cameron at such a defining moment of his baseball career.

The scouts were early anyway. We were still in preseason, and these games didn’t count for much.

Cameron took a deep breath as I held mine.

The pitch was released, Cameron swung, and he missed.

A swing and a miss.

Damn.

The crowd from the opposite team erupted with cheers while our small handful of fans booed. The loudest boos came from Cameron’s own father, Adam Fisher, who stood in the stands, probably drunk.

“What was that, Cam? Dammit!” Adam shouted, gesturing as if the greatest tragedy had just taken place. “Come on!”

The look on the scouts’ faces told me everything I needed to know as they packed up their stuff and left the stands. They’d seen enough, which upset me because they didn’t see anywhere near enough of that kid. He was so much more talented than his current grief-stricken state.

I found my father in the stands, too. Daddy had attended every home game since I started five years ago. He gave me a small smile and shrugged. I could hear his comments without him even speaking: “You win some, you lose some, but no matter what, you keep playing the game.”

Matthew Kingsley was the father of the century. He got me into the sport, and his quiet support kept me going throughout the season. I only wish Adam Fisher had taken a note out of my father’s handbook of supportive parenting.

Cameron grumbled and stomped off to the dugout. A few teammates tried to pat him on the back and tell him it was okay, but Cameron shrugged them away as he moved to the back corner of the dugout. He took off his helmet and threw it to the ground.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry…

“Fuck!” he blurted out, covering his face with his hands. He broke down into tears.

Crap.

Every time he did that, I felt my own heart shatter.

I walked over to him and sat on the bench beside him. I clasped my hands together and remained silent for a moment. I wasn’t good with seeing others cry. I didn’t show emotions at the level of the average human. The last time I cried, I was eighteen years old—almost two decades ago—so seeing other people cry made me feel highly uncomfortable. It was probably something I should’ve seen a therapist about, but to see a therapist, one had to open up, and well, no, thank you.

I grimaced as I raised my hand and patted Cameron on the shoulder. “There, there,” I muttered. “You’ll get them next time, Cam. This is just preseason anyway. This game doesn’t count.”

“You said every game counts, Coach K,” he replied.

“Did I? Well, yeah. But this one didn’t. Every game but this one. You’ll get it next time.”

I stood and removed myself from the situation because it felt odd to remain sitting there. If I were falling apart, I wouldn’t want people to be around, watching me and giving me pitiful shoulder pats. I gave him space and privacy to pull himself together.

I coached the rest of the game, only for us to lose by a handful of runs. Cameron would probably beat himself up for striking out, but it wasn’t a huge deal. Our team sucked every single year. I was kind of surprised that the school district didn’t cancel our baseball team to save a few bucks, but they did invest a lot of money into the state-of-the-art sports facility after Nathan’s success in the Major Leagues. The district was convinced they could become the breeding ground for Major League players. It hadn’t happened much, especially with the baseball team that yours truly had overseen.

Maybe this year will be different with Coach Erickson gone. One could only hope.

The first week of March,I was called into the principal’s office only to realize that the district had been discussing our team’s bad performance. Instead of canceling the team altogether, Principal Raymond, or Ray as I called him, had gathered an even worse idea. One that made my blood boil from irritation as I sat across from him at his desk.

“You’re bringing on another coach?” I asked, stunned. “Without giving me a chance to vet them?”

Ray combed his hand through his thinning blond hair. “I really hope you understand, Avery. We truly believe in your coaching abilities and your team’s talent.”

“So why the heck would you bring in another coach without asking my thoughts? Frankly, I don’t know if I need another coach. I have the team under control. The season is just beginning. We’re just getting our sea legs back on the field.”

“Yes, I understand that. But, well, you haven’t won a game in three years, Avery.”

Had it really been three years since we’d won a game? No way.

There was that one time back in—oh crap.

We hadn’t won a game in over three years. That wasn’t the best look.

“That was because of Coach Erikson. I’m not him.”

“Still…three years.”

“But another coach?” I grumbled. “Why don’t you just cancel the program?” I sarcastically said.

“Because it’s a great program and a good way for the students to build up their skills. Yet we think having another coach could benefit us in ways we couldn’t even imagine. I know you wouldn’t want to lose the program, either. You’ve invested a lot in this. This is a good thing, Avery. This is a great thing.”

He was right. I’d hate to lose the program. A lot of the kids relied on baseball to keep their heads above water with whatever home issues they were dealing with. It was their outlet, their haven, and I didn’t want to remove that for them. As a teacher and coach, I always swore to put the students’ needs before mine. The only problem was that I was a lone wolf. I didn’t work well with others. I spent the past five years fighting Coach Erikson tooth and nail on every topic. The idea of another coach coming in was enough to make my skin crawl.

“Do I get to be involved in the hiring process?” I asked, almost knowing the answer already by how Ray was acting.

“We went ahead and handled that for you. They should be here any second now,” Ray said as he glanced at his watch.

I arched an eyebrow. “You already hired someone?”

Before he could respond, a person came darting into the office in a flurry.

“Sorry I’m late. Got held up a little bit at my brother’s shop.”

I turned around to meet Nathan’s eyes.

Nathan. F**king. Pierce.

No way.

My jaw all but dropped to the floor as a wave of disgust landed in the pit of my stomach. No way did Ray hire Nathan Pierce to be my assistant coach. No freaking way!

“Cancel the program,” I blurted out as I turned back to face Ray. “Cancel the whole thing,” I hissed with unyielding resentment. I was now adding Ray to my list of men who pissed me off. His name was right under the jerk who cut me off in line at the coffee shop this morning.

“Now, Avery,” Ray started, but I was already pushing myself up from my desk chair to shoot out of that office space. No way was I going to stay in that room and breathe the same air as that…that…man.

I hurried past Nathan and headed straight for the hallway. Seconds later, I heard him calling my name. He was chasing me, but I wasn’t going to turn around.

“Avery! Wait up!” he called as I darted between students.

“Oh my gosh! Dude! You’re Nathan Pierce!” a few students remarked as they noticed him. I glanced over my shoulder and rolled my eyes as I saw Nathan push out one of his all-star smiles toward the easily impressed students.

Give me a break.

He wasn’t that amazing.

You won one or two World Series, and people acted like your poop didn’t stink. News flash: celebrities went number two in toilets just like us regular folks. They probably just used overpriced, oil-infused tissue to wipe their bums.

I kept on my way to my office in the gym. Once I reached it, I slammed the door and took a breath. Seconds later, my door opened, and lo and behold, it was Nathan.

Lovely.

Freaking stalker.

It was no secret that Nathan was back in our little town of Honey Creek, Illinois, after his career took a nosedive. He’d been around for the past year or so, and I prided myself on being able to avoid crossing paths with him for a long time. I hated that he broke that record on Super Bowl Sunday, but I was quick to start it up again. I was a month strong before this awful encounter took place.

Something about crossing paths with one’s ex-boyfriend was so uncomfortable. And crossing paths with your famous ex-boyfriend was extra uncomfortable. Especially when no one else but your two sisters knew you had a relationship with said man.

We dated the summer after our senior year. Three months. I knew it seemed ridiculous to feel so deeply about someone who I’d only dated for three short months, but that was the thing about love—it didn’t follow timelines. It showed up when people least expected it. When I fell for Nathan, I fell hard. I was more certain than ever that I was his, he was mine, and we’d be us forever.

When he abruptly ended things with me, my heart never fully recovered. I never knew something like love could lead to so many trust issues.

“Hey.” Nathan stood there with an annoyingly attractive smirk.

I wanted to smack the smile off his smug face. One of the worst things about running into an ex was seeing how attractive they’d become over the years. Nathan was always handsome, but now he looked like a diamond dipped in gold. His arms were muscular and massive as he crossed them over his chest. His brown skin looked ridiculously hydrated. His dark-brown hair was cut in a fade, and his ears were pierced with diamond studs. His brown eyes still reminded me of heaven, and his wicked smile reminded me of hell.

He wore a dark gray pullover that was probably one size too small based on how his biceps were showcased, black jogger pants, and some overpriced sneakers.

I hated how beautiful and big he was. Not many men in town could make me feel small, but standing near Nathan did exactly that.

Which was why I puffed out my chest and narrowed my eyes. “What do you want, Nathaniel?” I hissed, annoyed by his proximity and the fact that he was trying to ruin my life again after all these years.

“Nathaniel.” He chuckled. “Using the full name to show how much you missed me, huh?”

“I only use your full name as a sign of hatred.”

“You used to say it for very different reasons.”

I felt my skin heat from his words. “Yes, well, I was a dumb kid. Now it’s used for hatred.”

He stepped toward me. “So you hate me, Ave?”

“With a passion,” I said. “A deep, skull-crushing passion.”

He scratched his beard, which had grown quite a bit since last month. “And to think, I was hoping we’d let bygones be bygones.”

“Yeah, that would have happened if you would’ve stayed gone. It was an unwritten agreement. You break my heart, and you stay gone.” For a split second, a look of guilt flashed across his face. Before he could feel bad for breaking my heart, I rolled my eyes dramatically just to make sure he noticed. “Don’t get a big ego about it. I’m over you breaking my heart. I’m engaged now,” I remarked, holding up my ring finger. “To a rocket scientist,” I exclaimed. Why was I word-vomiting to him? Why was I telling him anything about my life?

Shut up, Avery.

“I heard,” he replied. “Congratulations.”

“I don’t want your congratulations. I want you to be gone.”

He slid his hands into the pockets of his joggers. “That’s going to be an issue, seeing how I’m now coaching the baseball team with you.”

“No,” I urged. “You’re not. This is my thing.”

“Yeah, but Raymond said?—”

“I don’t care what he said, Nathan. I’d rather this program burn to the ground before I coach with you. What, do you think you’re some kind of genius because you played in the Major Leagues? I was ten times a better baseball player than you could’ve ever been.”

“I know,” he said quickly. “I never said I was better than you.”

“So you understand why I don’t need you? Good.”

“No.” He shook his head. “You do need me. I’ve been to a few of your preseason games. Your team is a bit…” He waved his hand in a disapproving fashion. “Lacking.”

“Lacking?”

“Yeah. That’s no offense to you. I’m sure you’re doing the best you can, but I think I can bring a lot to the table with what I’ve learned in the industry and my personal strengths. And with you being my assistant coach?—”

“I’m sorry, come again? Assistant coach?” There was absolutely no way he said assistant. As if he was now the head coach of a team I’d been managing for years. The nerve of this guy!

“I figured Raymond told you?—”

Before he could finish, I marched toward Principal Raymond’s office. I barged back into the office space without an invitation and began to holler. “Ray, what does this man mean he’s head coach now?”

Raymond looked up from his paperwork with fear in his eyes. Rightfully so. I was seconds away from ripping his eyeballs out of their sockets as rage built within me.

“Now, listen, Avery,” he started. His calmness felt belittling in a way. Or perhaps I was being overly emotional, but who could blame me? The one thing I had that was mine—my team—was being ripped from beneath me without any warning.

How could the school district think that demoting me was the right choice? Without even talking to me about it first? This was beyond humiliating. It was insulting to my character and position of authority.

What was with people not telling me things before I had to find out in such hurtful ways? It had been a month, and I still wasn’t over the reveal of Drew, and now this was happening.

“What you’ve done for the team has been amazing,” Raymond stated. “But with an actual Major League Baseball player as head coach, we’re certain we can get these players where they need to be. Maybe even make it to the playoffs. And who knows? These boys could end up getting college offers with the right team leadership beneath them.”

With the right team leadership.

Which meant I was the wrong team leadership.

They didn’t even give me a chance.

That cut deep, but I stood firm.

I couldn’t let him know that he hurt my feelings.

I couldn’t let anyone ever know they hurt my feelings.

The school bell rang for second period to begin, and I felt sick, knowing I had a class to get to.

“This is crap, and you know it, Ray,” I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest. “There should’ve been a conversation.”

“Well, let’s consider this the conversation and move forward from here on out. Or you do have the option to step down from the team. There’s no pressure to stay, Avery. You are more than able to let it all go. Then maybe you can focus your energy on something else. Something that makes you happy. I mean, truthfully, do you even like coaching these boys? Because I can’t tell.”

That felt like the biggest slap to my soul.

I loved coaching those kids.

They were the highlight of my year. The highlight of my life. I loved the game more than most people. More than Nathan Pierce. Sure, he got to the big leagues, but that didn’t mean the game belonged to him. A million people would never get the chance Nathan had presented to him. That didn’t mean they were any less deserving or passionate.

“I love my job,” I said, my voice cracking as my emotions began to build within me. I felt like I was on the chopping block, and being told that I didn’t care about something I deeply cared for didn’t make me feel good at all. It felt hurtful at the least, infuriating at the most.

“Then show it. Show that even with a slight demotion, you will still show up for the students the way they need you to. For now, perhaps you should get to your other students waiting for you to teach them today.”

He broke his stare from me and looked back down at his paperwork, a clear sign that the conversation was sealed closed, and nothing I would say could change his mind.

I was officially demoted from my head coach position, only to have my ex-boyfriend take on the role.

I wanted to throw up.

I headed out of the office, and the moment I stepped into the empty hallways, my eyes landed on Nathan, who stood by a locker. When he looked up, he gave me a pathetic frown, which only made me want to slam my fist into his face.

He stepped toward me. “Avery, I didn’t know?—”

“Do you get off on this?” I whisper-shouted, moving in toward him. “Do you get off on coming back and taking the one thing away that meant everything to me?”

“Avery—”

“Whatever it is you’re about to say, I don’t care to hear it. I’m already struggling enough,” I snapped. I hated that those words slipped out, because the last thing I wanted was for Nathan to know he was getting under my skin. But he had been. Every piece of me felt enraged from him stepping into my realm and taking control of the things I’d loved most.

I’d struggled with my mental health throughout the whole year. That was no secret to me. Depression was an unwanted visitor who knocked at my door throughout the seasons, and at times, it would swallow me whole. Yet baseball season was the one thing I had to look forward to. It was my safe place in a world that sometimes felt so heavy. It was my return to self after months of living in shadows. He was taking that from me. He was taking away the small breaths of relief I found throughout the year.

He rubbed his hand over his head. “If you let me explain?—”

“Go to hell, Nathaniel,” I spat. “Or at least do me the smallest favor and stay out of my way.”

As I stormed off to get to class, he said, “We’ll talk after the weekend!”

“I hate him!”I exclaimed as I marched into The Pup Around the Corner, Yara’s dog spa. She was at the register checking a customer out, when I barged in and interrupted the interaction. “I hate, hate, hate him!”

Yara raised an eyebrow toward me and then looked at the customer. “Thanks again, Sally. We’ll see you in a few weeks for Eddie’s trim.”

Sally glanced at me and shook her head in disapproval. “That loud shouting isn’t very ladylike, Avery Kingsley.”

“Yeah, well, I never claimed to be ladylike. Bye, Sally.”

She scowled before walking out of the store with her dog. I was almost certain she’d tell her friends how short and snappy I’d been. Then word would spread through the small town about how I was the mean Kingsley sister, the one people avoided like the plague.

Whatever. I didn’t care what people thought of me. At least, that was the lie I liked to tell.

Yara turned toward me with her kind smile. My sister was the master of kind smiles. She was probably the favorite sister in town. Willow would’ve been tied with her if she ever stayed in Honey Creek long enough to interact with others. Instead, she was always hurrying off on some wild adventure.

Yara walked around the counter to join me on the other side, and I smirked a little at her growing stomach, almost forgetting how annoyed I’d been. Yara and Alex were expecting a baby in a few months. My favorite little family. Alex and Yara defined opposites attract, and they worked out. His grumpy mixed so well with her sunshine.

Yara stood in her overalls with her natural hair in two big puffs on top of her head, looking as cute as ever, but I couldn’t let her cuteness distract me from my bad mood. “I hate him,” I continued.

“You hate all men, so I’ll need you to be more specific about which man you currently hate,” she quipped.

That was no secret to anyone, really. I did hate all men. Sure, Wesley was one of the good ones, but at the end of the day, he was still a walking dick. And walking dicks always had a small chance of dicking a woman around. Even the good ones.

Exhibit A: Drew.

“Nathan,” I said.

“Nathan who?”

“What do you mean, Nathan who? My Nathan. Well, not my Nathan, but that Nathan. Nathan Pierce.”

Her eyes widened as her jaw dropped. “You interacted with Nathan Pierce?”

“Yes.” My pits sweated just thinking about it.

“After working so hard to avoid him?”

“Yup. It’s even worse than that. Ray hired Nathan to be a coach for the baseball team with me.”

“No!” she exclaimed, shocked like no other. I was thankful she was as flabbergasted as I’d been. If it wasn’t for her animated reactions, I might’ve thought I overreacted.

“Yes!” I said, tossing my hands up in the air. “And! Not just to be a coach. The head coach!”

“Nooo!” she shouted. She then began wiggling her hips as she crossed her legs. “Oh my gosh, I just peed a little.”

“Yeah, I pretty much shit myself when I heard the news, too.”

“No, I mean, I actually just peed a little. It’s been happening on and off all day.”

An alarm shot through me. “Uh, do you have to go to the bathroom or something?”

She waved it off. “No. I’m wearing a pad. It’s fine. Keep going.”

Pregnant Yara was wild. Yet I didn’t want to stop my freak-out over the fact that Nathan somehow weaseled his way into my job and took my position. Like the little snake he’d been.

“I’m so mad.” I sighed. “Ray told me either I step down to assistant coach and let Nathan run the team for this season or he’d have to let me go from the team altogether.”

“Can he do that?”

“Yup. That isn’t in my teaching contract. He could cut me from the team without a second thought. He also told me I was being childish, so I told him to suck a cock.”

“Avery, you didn’t!”

“No,” I groaned. “But I wanted to. I can’t believe this is happening. These kids and this game mean everything to me, and to have Mr. Major League sweep in and take it without a moment of hesitation just seems so wrong.”

“Well, look at it this way. His knowledge will benefit everyone. It is about the kids, right?”

I narrowed my eyes at her with a disgusted look. “Whose side are you on?”

“Yours, obviously. Always yours. Screw Nathan Pierce. Sorry. Pregnancy brain has me saying bizarre things sometimes,” she joked.

“Right. Okay. Good. Because if I’m going to be delusional with my anger, I need you to be on the same page.”

“Yeah, of course, but…”

“But?!”

“But,” she continued, “last week, you did say that you wished something would give with the team. So you could make them the best they could ever be. This could be your gift from the universe.”

“Nathan Pierce? A gift? Psh.” I waved in dismissal. “You’re sounding a little too hippie-like. Have you been hanging out with Willow?”

“She did bring me a special tea blend this morning,” she mentioned, speaking of our free-spirited little sister. Willow Kingsley was the opposite of me. Where I walked on solid ground, Willow floated high in the clouds. The perks of being the youngest child. They seemed to have a lot more freedom with life than the eldest.

“But I do stand by what I said about the gift from the universe,” Yara said.

“What’s the return policy on universe gifting?” I muttered as I crossed my arms.

“I know it’s awkward for you, Avery, but this could be good for the team. I know it’s probably uncomfortable with Nathan, but you’re both adults now and can work past any old drama you had. I know you can because you’re a badass who can work through anything. Even ex-boyfriends.”