01 | growing tensions

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"Okay, be honest - which one of the dad's would you let smash?" Violet asks louder than she should have, casually passing the ball to Peyton.

Peyton traps the ball, a furrow between her brows forming. "Violet, what the fuck did you just ask?"

"Because I've been thinking about it and, honestly, I'd let Mr. Dillard do anything he wants to do to me," Violet replies without missing a beat, completely ignoring Peyton's question.

I feign gagging and throwing up. "Ew, Sam's dad? You sick fuck. The one who brings raisins for the kids? He's, like, forty-five."

Violet smirks as she starts juggling the ball. "Yeah but his wife left him last year so I think he'd be pretty open to the idea. Also, he kinda looks like Chris Cuomo and that man is sexy."

"Violet, shut up," Peyton and I say at the same time. I playfully shove Violet's shoulder as she turns her attention back to the ball.

"Oh shit, the kids are coming. They look like tiny buttmunchers." Peyton laughs at her own joke and stares off behind me. I turn around to see kids and their parents slowly trickle in from the parking lot. Their shin guards and cleats look brand new, glinting in the glaring sunlight. I can feel the nerves radiating off them from here.

Violet notices us staring and turns to get a look at the incoming crowd. "Aw guys, look at the little ones' shin guards over their socks. And look how long their fuckin' shorts are! I wish I had signed up to coach a rec team. The little kids are so much cuter than the old-ass, competitive kids."

I flip my ponytail dramatically over my shoulder. "Sucks to suck . Guess I'm the only one out of the three of us smart enough to sign up for rec soccer. While you guys work your asses off with the older kids, I'll be sittin' pretty with the seven-year-olds."

Peyton playfully boots the ball into my shin, hard. I make a face at her. "Don't you losers have somewhere to be? Violet, Mr. Dillard is bent over next to the snacks, now might be the time to shoot your shot."

"Maybe I will, River," Violet replies, "but for now, Peyton, we gotta dip. Practice starts in five minutes and we gotta make a good first impression on the kids."

"See ya. Also, Pey, your ass looks really flat in those shorts," I say. They run off toward their field where a large group of pre-teen boys are waiting for them. Peyton flips me off while running. I laugh and start jogging in the opposite direction toward my growing group of kids.

I introduce myself to the group as Coach River and start them off with an icebreaker. In a circle, they pass the ball to one another and say their names. It seemed like a good idea for an activity and it would've been a quick icebreaker...if the kids weren't so god-awful at passing. I swear, one out of every ten passes make it to the intended target. I have to turn around a few times to keep them from seeing me laugh.

Because the icebreaker took so long, I only have time for a scrimmage. I split them into two teams and watch them go at it. After standing back and observing for a few minutes, I immediately notice a cute curly-haired girl confidently taking charge of the game. She impresses me by juking a little boy out and I can't hide my laugh while watching it happen.

I make a mental note of that little girl; I remember her name being Grace.

When practice is over, I collect all the safety waivers from the parents as they pick their children up and remind them to sign up for after-game snacks. After a few polite conversations with parents and a few in-depth descriptions of their children's performances, all the kids and parents are gone. I start to walk toward where Violet and Peyton are cleaning up after their practice, when I notice a kid still sitting on the curb, waiting.

Little Grace sits slumped, all alone, next to the bleachers, staring down at her pudgy little hands.

I kick myself for almost leaving a seven-year-old alone this late at night and head toward her. When I sit down next to her, her head, still a bit sweaty from practice, turns up toward me. She flashes me a smile lacking her two front teeth and I can't help but smile earnestly back down at her. Although her smile stretches from cheek to chubby cheek, I see the sadness lingering in her eyes.

I'm already preparing the earful I'm going to give her guardian when they decide to roll in, if they ever do.

"Hey Grace, what's up?"

"Nothin'. Just waiting for my big brother. He's usually never late," she replies with a slight lisp on her 's' and I almost melt. At the same time, annoyance toward her older brother grows inside me, but I try to keep a soft expression for Grace.

"Is there any way we can contact your bro---" My question is cut off by the loud sound of an approaching car's exhaust. Grace presses her small hands over her ears and turns around, looking for the source of the sound. We both watch a blacked-out sportscar as it pulls into the nearest parking spot, almost running me and Grace over.

I get up to tell the driver off but Grace beats me to it, jumping up off the curb and yelling, "That's him! My big brother!"

Even after hearing her call out to him, I want to stop her as she runs toward the most intimidating car I've ever seen. The driver's side door opens and the infamous big brother steps out.

The first thing I notice is the fact that he's wearing sunglasses at 8 pm, and still looking insanely attractive while doing it. After getting out of the low seat, he runs his long fingers through his dark disheveled hair and shuts the door. I find myself trying to guess his height - 6'2? 6'3? All I know is that he has to lean down slightly to reach the door and his wounded muscles tense at the gesture. I wonder how he found a shirt that fits him so well.

I find it hard to remember what I was going to say to him.

Then Grace squeals and runs into his arms and I'm reminded of how late it is. His full lips spread into a wide grin as he leans down and scoops up the little girl. She looks so tiny and happy in his strong, lean arm and I have to keep myself from swooning. He takes both her cheeks in his free hand and, against her playful struggles against him, kisses her hard on the cheek. Grace is giggling so loud that I can't make out the words he's saying to her but I can tell whatever he's saying is just making her laugh even harder.

He finally puts her down and leads her over to the passenger side, prepared to leave without acknowledging my presence. I muster up the courage to walk over to them and tap him on the shoulder. He finishes strapping into her booster seat and finally turns to look at me.

I crane my neck to look him in the eyes - or his sunglasses, I guess. He crosses his arms over his chest, only making his arms look bigger, and turns his symmetrical lips into an impatient scowl.

He looks me up and down. "And you are? I think your teammates are over there."

His arm extends toward a group of middle schoolers talking a hundred feet away. My cheeks immediately blaze with anger - or embarassment - and I straighten up, thankful to the dark for hiding my reddening face.

"I'm your little sister's coach. We would have been well-acquainted already if you came on time to meet me and the other parents earlier. That would have been..." I check my Apple watch for emphasis, "...thirty-five minutes ago."

He rolls his eyes, turning his back to me to walk toward the driver's side door, clearly ignoring me. "I don't have time for this. Go back to yelling at little brats, or whatever you do."

In the corner of my eyes, I see Violet and Peyton approaching warily, noticing our interaction and pretending not to watch. I groan and clench my fists at my sides, "You're really something else, rolling in here in your outrageously loud car, insulting your sister's coach who stayed with her while you were off doing what? Something you obviously thought was more important than your sister's well-being."

He immediately whips around and steps toward me, leaning forward until my head is less than a foot from his chest. His hand snatches off his sunglasses and he glares down at me.

Those eyes. Grey with an impossible amount of anger swirling behind them. Grayson Maddox. Memories and fear from the last time I looked into those eyes flood me and my head suddenly feels foggy.

That's when I notice his left eye, red-rimmed and puffy. A new bruise already forming, an obvious hiccup in his plans. His reason for being late.

His sneer deepens and I try not to act intimidated. "You're lucky my sister is less than five feet from us because that is the only thing keeping me from telling you exactly how I feel about a prissy, know-it-all teenage girl telling me how to raise my little sister. You don't know me, you don't know her, and you sure as hell have no right to assume anything about us."

I'm at a loss for words. "I didn't realiz -- "

He backs up but keeps his stare trained on me. "Yeah, you just didn't think. Just get out of my face before I do something in front of Gracie. Stick to soccer and keep your lectures to yourself, Coach."

He flings his door open and slides in, not bothering to put on his seat belt before he peels out of the parking lot in a noisy skid.

author's note

•  •  •

Hope y'all enjoyed this chapter! Woooow, River and Grayson finally talk to each other...and they hate each other already. Don't forget to upvote, comment, and share! It would mean the world to me! How y'all feeling about the book so far?

Please upvote and comment to let me know you're enjoying the book so far!

- Kenzie <3

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