Read Online Someone Like You by Jennifer Gracen - Free Book Online Page B

to the Sound that seagulls circled and squawked overhead as Pierce walked from the parking lot to the field. Slipping his cell phone and keys into the deep pockets of his long athletic shorts, he carried a water bottle in one hand and tucked the soccer ball under his other arm. The grass was soft beneath his sneakers, and the sounds of kids playing carried on the air. Seven o’clock and the sun was just starting to set, turning the clouds into pinkish streaks across the deepening blue of the sky.
    It felt good to be there.
    Pierce had been spending a lot of time alone, holed up in Tess’s cottage or taking long runs along the Sound. Other than the one night he’d gone out with Dane, he’d basically gone underground. He wasn’t hiding; he just wanted solitude as he licked his wounds. Tess understood, which made him feel like at least he wasn’t losing it altogether. She showered him with affection, shared meals and time with him . . . he’d definitely started to feel a little better since he’d gotten to her house. She was the best sister in the world.
    But he needed to get out more. He knew that. He’d been sulking a lot, but also thinking about the future. What would his next steps be? How would he make a life for himself after football? At least he had plenty of time to figure it out. He had plenty of his own money earned in his decade on the playing field. So, in the meantime, he’d hang out at Tess’s safe house, catch up on TV, go to the gym, go to the beach, and coach some soccer.
    Scanning the field as he passed the first goalie net, he saw parents dotting the sidelines and two clusters of kids. The team on the closer end of the field had a male coach, so that wasn’t the Jaguars. He squinted behind his sunglasses, searching . . . there she was. Abby’s back was to him, one hand gesturing as she spoke to the boys, the other clutching that damn clipboard. Her straight, blond hair was pulled back into a small ponytail, and her sweet little ass and lovely legs looked delectable in her blue shorts.
    â€œThere he is!” one of the little boys screamed. The whole group of them, about a dozen, ran toward him. They swarmed around him like excited puppies, reminding him of the way Bubbles yipped whenever someone walked through the door.
    â€œCoach Abby says you’re gonna be our new coach!” one yelped.
    â€œIs that true?” another one asked.
    â€œYou’re really gonna be our coach?” “Are you gonna stay the whole season?” “Can you do that trick with the ball again, the one you did the other day?”
    All the boys were talking at once, so ecstatic they were practically bouncing. He chuckled and said, “Whoa, wait! One at a time, I can’t make out anything you guys are saying.” He glanced over at Abby, who stood a few feet away, holding her clipboard to her chest with lips pursed as she assessed him. And yes, she was definitely assessing him. He shot her a grin. “Hey, Coach.”
    â€œHello.” Her mouth curved downward into a slight frown, her voice stern as she said, “You’re late, Mr. Harrison.”
    â€œPierce, please.” He took off his sunglasses to better look at her. She didn’t seem happy to see him. He guessed her assessment had him coming up short. The look in her dark blue eyes was . . . wary. He wondered how much she’d read up on him since she found out they’d be coaching together. “Am I late? I thought practice started at seven.”
    â€œIt does. But you were supposed to be here at six thirty so I could go over some things with you first.”
    â€œOh.” His brows furrowed as he thought. “Really? I didn’t know.”
    â€œI e-mailed you yesterday. Maybe Sofia gave me the wrong e-mail address?”
    He winced. “No, it’s probably right. It’s my fault—I don’t check e-mail every day. Sorry. Uh . . . you should always