“And I told you that until I did a full assessment, I wasn’t able to say whether that was true or not.”
“We lost, Sydney,” I reminded her, taking a full step into her space. Her chest puffed, but I puffed mine right back. “Because of you babying one of our star players.”
“This is not my issue,” she shot back. “Do not blame your loss on me because your so-called star player thought winning a bet with his buddies was more important than playing tonight. I did my job, and I will not apologize for it.”
I didn’t realize she’d been walking toward me until our chests brushed, the heat of her breath hitting my nose as she glared up at me. Anger rang in my ears, my fists clenching at my sides as I glared back. Our chests heaved, neither of us backing down, both of us sure in our stances.
Sydney’s dark hair was pulled into a sleek ponytail, leaving nothing to distract me from the depth of her dark eyes. Time stretched between us in an immeasurable way as I fell into those pools. Her breathing softened a little, and without warning, my gaze fell to her lips.
They were nude, and smooth, and even when they were flattened into a frown, they were still somehow plump and full. I let my eyes focus on those lips for longer than I meant to, longer than was appropriate, and when they parted slightly, a hot breath slipping between them to assault my senses, I ripped my gaze back to her eyes.
Her dark eyes watched me in a completely different way now.
The step back that I took next came too late, and with it, each of us drew in a long breath. The air in that training office felt heavy and wet, like it was liquid instead of oxygen, and suddenly, I felt I’d drown if I stayed even one minute longer.
I glanced at Sydney once more before I turned, storming out of her office with anger still rolling off me in plumes. It took me ten steps to clear the hallway and step into the locker room — where a team of thirty boys and three coaches watched me with weary eyes and their heads hung, waiting to hear what I had to say.
And oh, were they in for a mouthful.JordanMy throat was sore, voice hoarse by the time I got to my mom’s house. And when I slammed the door to my truck, still fuming as I made my way up the drive to Mom’s front door, I was shocked to see Mary Scooter walking out of it.
Mary was Patrick’s wife, and other than seeing her playing her role as the dutiful wife behind him all these years I’d grown up in Stratford, I didn’t know much about her. One thing I did know was that since the fire, she hadn’t set foot near my mother — probably because Mom was horrified that Mary didn’t take her side on it.
Patrick, Mary, Dad, and Mom used to run in the same circle in high school. They were close friends, from what I’d picked up in passing conversations between Mom and Dad, but somewhere along the way, that had changed.
Still, Mary knew my Dad didn’t smoke, yet she’d looked at my mom with the same sympathetic eyes the entire town did after the fire — like she felt sorry for her, like Mom was in denial.
Mary’s eyes looked like she’d been crying, and she sniffed, nodding at me as she passed. “Jordan,” she said.
“Mary,” I replied, still confused.
“Good game tonight. Sorry about the loss, but you’ll get them next time.”
I forced as close to a smile as I could muster, and then she got in her car I hadn’t even noticed parked among the others, and she was gone.
Mom was on the porch, and she pulled me in for a hug with a knowing look as soon as I was standing with her.
“Tough loss,” she said.
I nodded. “What was Mary Scooter doing here?”
Mom’s expression was unreadable, but she patted my shoulder — reaching up high, since she was so short in comparison — urging me inside. “Oh, no reason, really. She’s just going through some things. We used to be best friends, you know.”
“I know, but…”
“It’s nothing,” she assured me. “And please, don’t say anything to Mallory about her being here. Okay?”
Mary was Mallory’s mom — and ever since the big fallout between her and her family after she and Logan made their relationship official, they hadn’t talked. At least, not to my knowledge.
Even when Mallory told them she was pregnant, there had been no reciprocation.
I nodded, though I didn’t like keeping secrets. For Mom, I’d do anything. And if she was saying it was nothing to worry about, I believed her.
We made our way inside, Mom heating up leftovers from dinner while I made a drink. Everyone was gathered at the house — Noah and Ruby Grace, Logan and Mallory — but thankfully, everyone was leaving me alone for now.