He took his hat off and ran his hand over his head. “Can I come in?”
I mechanically opened the door wider for him, and he stepped inside my childhood home, suddenly seeming much smaller than it ever used to feel. I took a deep breath, inhaling his familiar scent, and looked into his eyes. In the time I’d spent purposely dodging him, I’d forgotten how much I enjoyed looking at him. His sharp features, soft blue eyes. The nonsmile smile. I hated his stupid face and couldn’t believe that it’d taken me so long to figure out that I loved him.
“When I heard you went home, I decided I had to come after you.” He grabbed my hand. “You can’t move back here without hearing me out.”
I pulled my fingers out of his grasp, his sudden appearance with wrong information catching me off guard. “Who told you I’m moving back here? I’m not.”
“You’re not? I just figured—”
“You figured wrong.”
“Charlotte, who is it?”
For the first time since I’d answered the door, Connor’s eyes lifted from mine to where I knew my father stood in the kitchen. I turned around as he wiped his hands on a dish towel.
“Daddy, this is Connor McGuire. Connor, this is my dad.”
He pointed at Connor. “The OC?”
Connor held his hand out to my dad. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Gibb. Big fan.”
My father looked him up and down, sizing him up as he would one of his players, then shook his hand. “Nice to meet you too.” With one last look, he patted Connor on the arm. “I’ll be outside. Let’s eat before the food gets cold.”
When he was out of earshot, Connor looked back to me. “He seems nice.”
“He is.”
His gaze bounced all over my face, to my hair, down to my feet, everywhere, as if checking to see that I was whole. I did the same to him.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” I said after a while.
“You surprised?”
Of course I was surprised. The last time we’d spoken was more than a week ago. For all the times after our arguments I had wished he’d come after me and he didn’t, I’d gotten mad. But this time I’d been glad he’d stayed away, because I’d needed time to work through the uncertainty and heartbreak. I’d been fixated on my career goals for so long that when they intertwined with my personal life, I couldn’t see a way out. I’d needed time to be by myself and cry, think about what I wanted, and learn that I truly missed him. And I couldn’t have been happier that he’d finally come after me.
He reached for me again, and this time I didn’t pull away or deny his fingers lacing with mine.
“I got scared when I thought you’d packed up and moved back here.” The fear in his voice was real.
“You did?”
“Yeah.” His thumb caressed the back of my hand. “I didn’t try hard enough before. But I need you to hear me out.” His words came out in one big uncharacteristic rush. “I thought that I was supposed to fix things for you, but what I realized was I had to move out of the way. You don’t need me or anyone else to fix things. You can do that yourself. You need to know I’ll be there to help you, stand with you, be your backup or whatever, though.”
“But . . . you took my job.” I stepped away from him to sit in the living room, my head and my heart warring with each other. I’d been fired. He was part of the most humiliating moment in my life. How could I ignore that?
“Not on purpose,” he said, hesitantly moving toward me. “I’m so sorry that I didn’t have the guts to do anything that day. What they did and said and how they acted was terrible, and I cannot tell you how horrible I felt. They caught me off guard, and I know that’s not an excuse, but I couldn’t understand why they were doing it.”
He knelt in front of me. “You deserve to be the head coach of the Otters. They know, the kids know it, you know, and I know it. If I could go back in time, I’d do it all differently.”
I laughed sadly. “Me too.”
“I won’t take the job.”
I eyed him. “Yes, you will. You have to.”
He shook his head. “You’re more important to me than a job.”
I gave him a small smile. Better late than never. “And you came here on Thanksgiving to tell me that?”
He nodded, one of his hands finding its way to my neck. “I had to come tell you in person that whatever you want to do, I’m down. I want you to be my girlfriend again, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen. You want to move back here? Okay, the weather seems fine. I’ll look for a job here. If you want to move somewhere else and coach, I’ll move there too.”
“Girlfriend? I was never your girlfriend.”
“Like hell you weren’t. It may not have been official, but you were my girlfriend in every way that mattered. Charlie, you’re the only woman I’ve let into my life since Alison. You’re the only one who’s ever been worth it.”
“Really?”
He laughed like it was a dumb question. “Yes. I love you.”
“You love me?”
He rolled his eyes. “Yeah.”
“Say it again.”
“Such a pain in my ass all the time.” With the big smile on his face, his words had no bite to them. “How could I not love you?”
“Feeling’s mutual,” I said as he moved onto the couch next to me.
“I want to be wherever you are,” he said, and I felt completely weightless. We could’ve soared high into the sky, drifting into the universe, but if he was with me it wouldn’t matter. Wherever we were, we’d be together.
“That’s good,” I said, wrapping my arms about his neck, “because I’ll be going back home to Minneapolis. It may have taken me a while to figure it out, but I’m more than a football coach. They can’t get rid of me that easily. I’ve got some ideas of other things I might want to do, but I’m not going to run away because it’s hard. That’s not who I am.”
He smiled a true smile. I didn’t think I’d ever earned that many smiles in the whole time I’d known him.
“No, it’s not. You’re a fighter.”
I tucked my arm around him. “You like the way I fight.”
“No. I love the way you fight. Say the words, Gibb.”
“I love you, Connor,” I whispered.
He closed the gap between us, stealing my breath with a kiss. It seemed like ages since we’d touched like this. A million more ages passed before we finally parted.
“I can’t believe you’re really here.” Leading him through the kitchen, I grabbed another plate. I imagined his whole family gathering together today. “What did your mom say? What did Sean say?”
“I texted them. I said I was going to find you and that I’d call them later.”
“We can call them later,” I said, and waved to my dad through the window.
We all sat down at the dining room table to enjoy dinner. Dad and Connor got along great, pretty similar in their personalities. And I just about burst with happiness. We spent the evening watching football and topping off our already full bellies with pie. So as not to scandalize my father, Connor volunteered to sleep on the couch, even though I was pretty sure Dad wouldn’t have cared. He spent all of Friday getting ready for the game on Saturday, leaving Connor and me to spend the day relaxing by ourselves. We FaceTimed Sean and even braved Target on Black Friday, risking life and limb. But I ended up getting Christmas gifts for Sonja and Piper, making the escapade worth it. I experienced life as Charlie and Connor, and I liked it. A lot. Much more fun than life as just Charlie.
Saturday we snagged seats on the forty-yard line for the Tech-State game, and for the first time I introduced him as my boyfriend to the acquaintances I ran into. The title felt good, and Connor smiled each and every time, noticeably proud to be labeled that way. Funny how we’d spent so long avoiding labels and going public with any kind of affection, when it all came easy now. Looking back, it seemed like a waste of time pretending we hadn’t loved each other from the beginning.
But I
wasn’t much for Monday morning quarterbacking, so I focused on our future together, which immediately included making it to the airport on time for the flight back. I sped down the highway as my phone buzzed for the third time. “Can you get that?”
He dug in my bag for my phone. “What’s your code?”
“One one one one.”
He made his growly annoyed sound. “That’s the first thing someone would try. You might as well not even have a code on here.”
“It’s easy to remember.”
“You have trouble remembering four-digit codes?”
“Just put the number in!”
He did. “Jim’s been calling. Do you want to listen to the voicemail he left?”
I nodded and flicked on the turn signal to exit the highway as Connor put the speaker on and Jim’s voice filled the space between us.
“Charlie? Where are you? Why aren’t you answering? I have some news. Call me as soon as you get this.”
We looked at each other, the urgency in Jim’s voice disturbing both of us. Connor redialed and kept the phone on speaker as we got closer to the airport. I watched for the signs to drop off the car.
Jim picked up. “Charlie, hey, finally.”
“Hi, Jim, I have you on speakerphone. I’m on my way back to Minneapolis. Connor is with me.”
“Connor?”
“Hey, Jim,” Connor said, and a few moments passed before Jim made the connection.
“I should’ve known, huh? Well, that’s good you’re together, because this will affect both of you.”
I turned left into the rental car parking lot. “What is it? You’re making me nervous.”
“Philander is on administrative leave until further notice and an investigation is completed. He’s been caught fixing state test scores. He won’t be returning to the world of education anytime soon.”
I parked the car just as Connor and I both exclaimed four-letter words.
“I always knew there was something off about that guy,” I said.
Connor nodded. “Should’ve caught on how he locked himself in his office all the time.”
“What happens now?” I asked.
“Pending school board approval, I’ve been asked to be the new principal.”
Connor pumped his fist up and down. “Good for you, Jim.”
“And I want you, Charlie, to be the new AD.”
“You want me to be the athletic director?”
Connor lightly punched my arm, grinning.
“Yes. I think you’d be perfect. You have great experience with sports, and I think as a woman you would be a tremendous influence on all of our student athletes and our boosters.”
I’d never thought of being an athletic director, but not only did it make sense, it was perfect timing.
“I think it’s a great idea,” Connor said.
“The head coach of the Otters is still open to you, Connor,” Jim noted.
I leaned in close to Connor. “I’d still be your boss.”
“Your favorite position,” he whispered with a sinful smirk.
“I’ll still have a say in what goes on with the football team,” I said, only a slight warning.
He raised a challenging eyebrow. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Whaddya say?” Jim asked, snapping me upright as if I’d been caught doing something wrong, and Connor muffled his laugh.
“I accept. Thanks, Jim.”
“Wonderful. I know this is all really sudden, but I think this is all for the best. You’ll do a great job.”
“So will you.”
“Thank you. And I’ll see you two when you get back. We’ll have some details to discuss, but I wanted to get to you right away.”
We said good-bye and got out of the car. I ran around to Connor’s side, jumping into his arms, wrapping my legs around him.
“Who’d have thought when you almost ran me over that day we’d be where we are now?”
He kissed a spot under my jaw. “It was your ass in those pants that made me stop. Saved your life.”
I slid down his body and turned his hat to the side, getting a better look at his face. “What?”
“You had on the black legging things that come to your knees and hug your butt. I’d noticed you walking inside as I got in line at the drive-thru. I didn’t think your careless ass would jump out in front of my truck—”
“I did not jump in front of your truck. You were speeding in a parking lot. That’s, like, rule number one in driver’s ed.”
He quirked his mouth down in disagreement. “I’d think the number one rule in driver’s ed is the right pedal is gas and left is brake.”
I dug my fingernail into his chest. “Oh, so you do know the difference.”
“Saved your life.”
“Or almost took it.”
He smirked. “Same difference.”
I nudged him forward as he threw our bags over his shoulder and took my hand. I was stupidly happy—fighting with Connor was better than loving anyone else, and I looked forward to a lifetime of arguments with him. And bless his heart, I’d let him win—sometimes.
EPILOGUE
Charlie
Are you crying?”
I dabbed at the corners of my eyes. “No.”
“You are.”
“I’m not.” I grabbed a tissue, avoiding Connor’s elbow in my side as the national anthem began to play on the television. “It’s my allergies.”
“You don’t have allergies.”
I wiped the tears that flowed freely, then balled up the tissue and threw it at Connor. “One of my best friends just won a gold medal. I’m emotional, okay?”
He tossed his arm around my shoulders and tugged me into his side to kiss my temple. We sat on the brand-new recliner couch, the final purchase in our effort to redecorate his house. The moment we’d arrived at his doorstep last fall, he’d told me he’d painted his bedroom, the first step in letting go of his fears from his past. Since then, I’d helped in picking out colors, rugs, and furniture, building what would eventually become our house. The perfect place to watch one of my best friends reach her dream.
Sonja was on the other side of the world and fourteen hours ahead in Asia, so even though we had found out she’d won the medal in the flyweight, we hadn’t gotten to actually see it until now.
And it was beautiful.
She was beautiful, standing tall even in her petite red, white, and blue warm-ups, holding flowers with that medal around her neck. She’d done it. She was an Olympic gold medalist, and I sat in awe watching her bright smile on the screen.
“It is amazing,” Connor said, admiration in his voice.
“Makes me rethink all of my accomplishments.”
He sniffed out a breath next to me. “You’re kidding?”
I kept my eyes on the television screen as I shook my head.
“Charlie Gibb, first female high school football coach in Minneapolis, first female athletic director in the district, and first-rate pain in my ass doesn’t think she has accomplishments?” He pushed me so I fell over to the other end of the couch, and I finally turned to look at him.
“I didn’t say I didn’t have accomplishments . . . but, ya know, how do you compete with an Olympic medal?”
“You don’t.” I scowled at his feigned indifference before he broke out into a stupid grin. “You say, ‘I’m proud of my friend, and I’m proud of myself.’ ”
He stared at me, eyebrows raised, waiting.
I gave in, knowing he’d wait forever. “I’m proud of my friend, and I’m proud of myself.”
“I’m proud of you too,” he said, pulling me to him once again. I stretched across his lap, my legs over his, his arms around my middle. His lips found my neck when he spoke. “Boss lady.”
It had been his nickname for me ever since I’d taken over the athletic director position nearly seven months ago. He thought it was cute; I thought it was condescending, but I’m sure that was part of the reason
why he insisted on it.
The bastard.
I kissed him, his lips still tasting like the beer he’d finished a few minutes ago. “Do you ever feel like our friends are racing ahead of us?”
“What do you mean?”
I blinked over to the TV where Sonja waved at the crowd. “Piper and Blake are getting married next month, Sonja’s off being amazing. . . .”
He narrowed his brows at me. “Life isn’t a race, but if you’re alluding to the fact that we’ve been together for eight months—”
“Technically, ten and a half, if you go from the first time we kissed,” I corrected.
He let out a long-suffering sigh. “Technically . . . I want you to move in here with me, but you won’t. That’s your fault.”
“My fault?” I snorted out a laugh. “How is it my fault?”
He lightly snapped the hair tie on my wrist. “Your no ring, no sharing a bed rule. But you do get how backward that is, right?”
“No.” I sat up, putting on my most innocent tone. “I’m the good Christian woman my grandma raised me to be.”
He clapped his hands twice as he laughed. “When you called out for Jesus three times last night, that was just you praying?”
My cheeks heated and I smacked his arm. “You heathen.”
“You love me.”
“Not really.”
“You ready to call on God again?” He stood up with me in his arms, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, laughing, but I froze when I caught the picture on the television.
“Holy shit.”
“What?” Connor followed my eyeline and immediately lowered me to the floor. “Holy shit.”
We both watched as the commentators talked to each other in the middle of the screen, with Sonja and Bear kissing in the corner. They were in the stands, as if she’d climbed up there after the medal ceremony. But I didn’t know for sure because we had been arguing through it.
Of course.
I shouldered Connor. “Our friends are making out and you made me miss what happened.”
He held his hand out to the screen. “We’re watching it.”
“I meant beforehand. We don’t—” My phone buzzed on the coffee table, and I picked it up, reading Piper’s text out loud: “ ‘Did you just see that?’ ”
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