“What the fuck,” I muttered.
“Language,” Adalyn whispered loudly. “You really need to stop swearing around the kids. It’s unprofessional.”
I glanced back at her, finding her engrossed in her phone. “But she just called me a bitch.”
Adalyn’s gaze lifted off the screen for an instant, looking in the direction of the woman, and then returned her attention to it with a sigh. Her fingers started flying across the device. Typing neurotically. She paused, lifted the phone, and started snapping pictures. Unconvinced, she took a few steps back, pointed her phone forward, and snapped a hundred more.
I blinked at her. “What in the world are you doing now? The game is about to start.”
She returned to my side with a shrug and resumed the lightning typing. “What kind of question is that? I’m obviously working.”
“You’re going to burst a metacarpal at that speed.”
“Is that a bone in my fingers? If so, I’m not. I’m used to typing fast when I’m brainstorming.”
“Brainstorming,” I repeated slowly. “For what? New ways to drive me up the wall?”
“Ha,” she deadpanned. “For the new uniforms. I might also order a few banners with the new logo I can give away to people that come to the games.” She bit her lip for a moment, dragging my eyes there. “I can forward you a copy of my notes. We can go over everything on Monday. After practice. Is that a good time?”
I remembered the last meeting we had. The button bursting open. Her scent in my lungs. The lavender satin. My jaw clenched.
Without lifting her head from the screen, she said, “Don’t look at me like that, Coach.”
I ignored that Coach. “How do you know how I’m looking at you?”
“Because you operate in two modes. Self-important and annoyed.”
A snort escaped my mouth. She was probably right. “I thought we agreed on meetings on Wednesdays.”
“Monday won’t be a meeting.” Her thumb swiped up and down, switching apps at an impressive speed. “It’ll be a casual get-together to align ideas.”
“Putting the word casual in front of get-together doesn’t make it less of a meeting, darling.”
Her index finger tapped one last time on the screen. She lifted her head, finally looking at me. “How about you call me boss?” Her eyebrows arched. “I’m not a huge fan of defined hierarchical systems, but I think I can make an exception here.”
I stared back at her under the brim of my cap. Her hair was up in a tight bun again. Only this one was at the top of her head, making her features look sharper under the sun. The suit was back as well, this one a pale shade of beige that was paired with a blue glossy-looking top I wished that blazer wasn’t covering.
It was possibly the dressiest she’d ever been. Even the heels she had on seemed higher than usual. Adalyn was dressed to impress today. Prim and ready to bulldoze over some poor soul. Me, most likely. And yet it was a welcome contrast to how she’d looked the other night on her porch. Covered in dust. In yoga pants. Strands of hair sticking out. I still hadn’t figured out which version of Adalyn I found more disconcerting.
The skin in my palms tingled at the memory of the feel of her face under my fingertips.
I flexed my right hand.
“Where’s the ring?” she asked, bringing my attention back.
I felt myself frown in surprise, but I patted my chest. “I’m used to taking it off for games. I have it on a chain.”
Her cheeks flushed, but if she thought anything of it, she didn’t say. “And what’s with the hat?” She gave me a skeptical once-over. “Is this your game look? I could get you a hat when I order you a matching coach tracksuit. I could ask them to print COACH （RELUCTANTLY HERE） on the front.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “Why are you here, again?”
“I’m the manager of the Green Warriors, where else should I be?”
“Not in the technical area. I’m the coach and this is my bench.”
“Technical area is a stretch.” She pointed at the humble space around us. “And you need me here. I’m pretty sure I heard the Bears’ coach conspiring against you on my way in from the parking lot.” A shrug. “I’d really hate to have to look for someone to fill in if you were to mysteriously disappear in… let’s say the bushy area behind the bleachers nobody seems to venture into.” A pause. “Not that I gave her any ideas.”