Page 28 of Stalked By the Assistant Coach

“He’s my friend, Red. You have nicknames for your friends. You called me bug forever.”

“Yeah, but I never wanted to just be your friend.” I had no idea why the knowledge that we had both been pining for one another still sent a thrill through me. I kept waiting to be angry about the time we’d lost. But how could I be upset when we’d been close in our own way?

“Tomato-tomahto. You know what I mean.”

“Hmm… so, good old Dougie is the new coach.”

“Yep.” I walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge. I frowned at the choices I had. Not that I didn’t have food, but the idea of cooking something sounded tedious. Especially after a long day at work. “He’s talking to that art teacher. You know, the new one I told you about?” I shared, hoping that would help temper down his jealousy. Not that Red had anything to worry about. Not when it came to me. I’d only had eyes for him. But if I was in his shoes, with us so far from one another and not sure when we’d see each other again, I didn’t want him to worry about something with Doug.

"Hmm,” he muttered.

“I miss you,” I admitted out loud.

“I miss you more, bug.” My lips pulled up. The nickname that had bugged me for so long was now my favorite. My hands moved up to the necklace he’d sent me by surprise two days after we’d become a thing. The small gold ladybug was a reminder I was not only his, but I’d been his for a long time. I still couldn’t believe I was on his skin. He had tattooed a ladybug over his heart for me.

“What are you doing?” he asked. I smiled at his question.

I could imagine him at his place. A beer in one hand while he held the phone to his ear as we spoke. God, I missed him. It had been two weeks since we had become an us, and I still couldn’t believe it.

It wasn’t easy.

His schedule was tough, and so was mine. Not to mention the two-hour drive that separated us. Yet, it all felt like a damn dream come true. I’d never been happier. I still couldn’t believe the way it had all unfolded.

“Trying to figure out dinner,” I shared as I shut the fridge door and was about to reach for the freezer to see what easy meal I had in there.

“Hmm… how does pizza sound?” My mouth watered at the idea.

“Good, but I don’t want to go out again, and a whole pizza just for me is a waste.”

“Hmm, not if you share it with me,” he muttered. I sighed with a sad smile.

“I wish,” I whispered. A knock sounded, and I glanced behind me. “Red?” I whispered, trying to beat back the hope I felt. I really missed him, and the idea of him being at my place sounded exactly like what I needed.

“Open the door, beautiful. I’d use my key, but my hands are full.”

“You’re here,” I gasped.

“Babe, come on.” And with that, I dropped my phone on the kitchen counter and hurried to the door.

Like magic, there he was.

All tall and handsome. So damn muscular he could probably intimidate anyone if he darkened their doorway, but to me, he was a glorious sight to behold. My lovesick heart flipped inside my chest.

“What are you doing here?” I laughed. I was tempted to pinch myself to make sure I wasn’t somehow hallucinating him.

“I told you I missed you.” He shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal he had driven two hours here after a long day.

I stepped to the side and watched him walk into my house. Red had been here countless times. From when I went to look at it, to when I moved in, to when he came back with me when he insisted he needed to make sure his girlfriend made it home safe and sound and every moment in between.

But like anytime we were around one another, but especially in my house, I was always shocked by the sheer size of him. Taller than any man I had ever met, broader and stronger, Redford Bridges had always been larger than life.

And now he is mine.

He set what looked like three pizza boxes of different sizes and a six-pack of my favorite hard cider on the coffee table in my living room and a plastic bag filled with god only knew what. But that was when I noticed what he didn’t set on the table but kept in his hands. My eyes jumped to his.

“Red?” I said his name, but I couldn’t say another word. He was at my place holding flowers in his hands. For me.

“I, umm, I got you these.” He extended his hand, and I stared at the pretty bunch of brightly-colored wildflowers. Red Bridges had driven two hours, come over with dinner and flowers. For me.