Scoring The Coach ✔️

chapter fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

When the girls had all left and my phone had stopped chiming with notifications of where they were headed, I leaned against the wall behind a Chick-fil-A and buried my face in icy hands.

For a second, I felt numb, just trying to process if I had really been stupid enough to say something so awful to him. I knew him better than that. He knew me better than that. I couldn't believe I'd blatantly insulted him like that. I wasn't even thinking when I opened my mouth.

"Dammit," I said under my breath. "What are you doing, Laura? What are you doing?"

I fell to the curb defeatedly, trying to get myself under control. I couldn't parade around in a bad mood with the girls so close by. It was probably better for me to get it out now rather than bottling it up.

We'd never argued before. I wasn't sure how to make it up to him, or even how to begin a half-decent apology. We were still learning how to be a couple, so everything was delicate.

I was staring down at my locked phone, even though the screen was dark. Admittedly, I was hoping for something from him, just so I could have the assurance we were still okay. I didn't get a text. Instead, I got him sitting down next to me, keeping a decent distance between our bodies.

"It took me a while to find you," he told me. "I wanted to get to you when you stepped off the bus, but I lost sight of you."

"Why?" I questioned.

"Isn't it obvious? I knew I had to apologize to my girl."

He reached out and smoothed a hand through my hair, pushing it back so he could look at me. I leaned into his palm, relief running through me.

"I'm sorry," I said. "What I said was dumb. Neither of us like the secrecy and I know there's so much more to this, what we have, than a little taboo fling."

It was true. I liked him because I connected with him and he treated me right. Him being my soccer coach was just a small detail, but it didn't define us. It never would if we didn't let it.

"I was such an asshole," he said. "I was hurt and I said some things I didn't mean."

The confession spilled out easily. "I know how I feel and I know how you feel but I keep worrying that I'm not going to be good enough for you."

"Why would you think that?" he demanded. "Laura, what would possibly make you believe that?"

"When we kiss, sometimes I freak myself out and pull away too soon. And I try to be confident but every time you touch me, I keep worrying that my body is disappointing. My boobs are too small and I'm too scrawny. I know I'm not ugly and I think I'm pretty most days, but I still have insecurities."

For a second, neither one of us talked.

"I have a scar on my right shoulder," he said. "Crashed my bike when I was a kid."

I looked at him curiously. "What?"

"And I cut myself shaving a lot, so that's why I go around four days at a time without doing it. I wait until I start getting a beard." He lifted a finger to his cheek and showed me a small nick just under his jaw. "I also can't style my hair for the life of me, so it's always a mess, and I have a really bad unibrow when I don't fix it. Oh, and my snoring is awful."

"Why are you telling me this?" I wondered aloud.

"Because those are the things that make me insecure. What? Did you think you were the only person who feels bad about themselves now and again?"

It seemed crazy to me, this notion that Jared could feel flawed too. He wasn't perfect and I knew it, but I never noticed the scar, I liked his hair, and his snoring didn't bother me in the slightest.