“Lacey, what are you doing here? I’m working.” Yes, he’s working that outfit. Wow, who would have thought a simple pair of jeans and a shirt could look that good.
“Hi, Coach.” She waves while I almost gag on my tongue, transporting me to the here and now.
“You’re Coach?” That was meant to be a silent question, but when he meets my eyes, all social grace goes out the door.
“Yes, my friends call me that. Why?” His bite shakes some sense into my hormone-fueled episode, reminding me that we’re obviously not friends as I was not privy to such insight.
Before I have a chance to tell him to shove his friendship up his glorious ass, Lacey intervenes. “Our surname is Coachman.” It takes me a few seconds, but I soon realize I’ve heard or rather seen this name before.
“You’re the boss?” Again, I
