Class Act: A Coach/Student Romance
Class Act: Chapter 29

DURING MY NEXT CLASS, I watched from the sidelines as the ninth graders completed an obstacle course I had set up for them. My phone vibrated in my pocket. I checked the screen, and my heart skipped a beat at Lynn’s name. I handed the stopwatch to the class leader—a student I appointed each term to assist—and stepped away to the back of the gym where I could still see them but take the call without being overheard.

“Hey, Lynn. What’s up?”

“You lucky son of a bitch.”

“You found somewhere?”

“Yes. It’s not an apartment but a two-bedroom cottage-style house. The owner died in hospice a month ago, and the kids no longer live here. They’ve been impatient to sell but haven’t had any luck. They’re willing to rent it out ASAP.”

I closed my eyes and exhaled slowly. Finally, things were turning around. “When can I see it?”

“Are you busy now? We can go check it out.”

“I’m in a class, but I’m free right after.”

“Good. I’ll text you the address, and you meet me there.”

“God, Lynn, you’re a lifesaver.”

“Let’s reserve judgment until after you see the place.”

I couldn’t wait to see the house. Thank god it was time to send the kids to the locker room to wash up and change. They’d helped me to put away the hoops, hurdles, and mats, so I didn’t have to stay behind to do it. I hurried to my office and grabbed my keys, then signed out.

The house was half an hour’s drive away from the school at the other end of town. It would probably take me an hour to drive to my house, which was perfect. I needed all the space between Teresa and me right now with all the shit she was giving me about our divorce. If she ever found out Emery was the one I was with, she would lose her shit.

Emery already went through so much. I wanted to spare him Teresa’s wrath. She could be ruthless when she didn’t have her way. It had never bothered me much before. Most of the time, she’d behaved like a shark in her court cases, but now we were the ones on the witness stand, and she would relish cross-examining us.

I parked next to Lynn’s GMC in the driveway and got out of my car. The front door opened and Lynn walked out with a big grin on her face and her arms flung wide.

“What do you think?”

The house was much smaller than my current home. It looked cute. Emery would love it.

“I should see the inside first.” I didn’t want to get my hopes up. The outside seemed to have been covered with a fresh coat of paint, and the lawn was neatly trimmed, but maybe the owners had done that to distract from what the inside looked like. “Where’s the person managing the property?”

“The caregiver was instructed to give me the key. Don’t worry. The house belongs to one of my exes.” She shook her head. “Such a pity. We might have worked if she hadn’t moved.”

“This house belonged to her grandmother?” I followed Lynn into the house, along a narrow hall, and into the kitchen. The cupboards could do with some upgrading, and the appliances weren’t new, but they seemed functional. All in all, it was a decent enough kitchen.

“Yes, she spent a lot of time with her grandmother, which is how we met. It was an on-again, off-again relationship. Last week, we ran into each other and talked.” Her grin told me they had done more than talk. “Anyway, she’s been looking to sell the place. I convinced her to rent it to you, and since I vouched for you, she agreed.”

“This is perfect.”

The house really was. The rooms weren’t big, I wouldn’t have a den, and the place was bare of furniture, but it was cozy. I could see myself with Emery sitting before the fireplace in the living room during winter, wrapped up in blankets and watching movies.

Upstairs were two bedrooms, both as bare as downstairs but they had their own bathrooms. A linen closet and a small washroom completed the second floor. We returned downstairs and walked out the screen door at the back onto a patio and a small yard. No pool, but that was okay.

“It’s a really nice place, and the rent she’s asking isn’t much,” Lynn said. “Plus, I’m sure she would be okay with selling to you later if you decide to make it a permanent home. What do you think?”

“I’ll take it.”

I’d never signed papers for a house that fast. Teresa and I had shopped around for weeks before she’d settled on a home for us. She would never have been happy with me choosing a house for us by myself, but that didn’t even cross my mind with Emery. I wanted to surprise him. To show him I meant every word I’d said about taking care of him.

We went to Lynn’s place, where I spoke with her ex-girlfriend about the property. I could see why Lynn still kept in touch with her. She was a kind, soft-spoken woman who still grieved her grandmother. We agreed on a lease period of a year. After that time, we would decide whether to extend the lease or purchase the property. I was leaning toward purchasing it. The price she was asking was ridiculously low, so low I thought she was giving me a favorable price because of my friendship with Lynn.

For now, my name was the only one on the contract, but I told her I intended to add my boyfriend’s name. It was the first time I’d acknowledged Emery as my boyfriend in public, and it felt good. It felt like a future. Not just any future. Our future.

I’d sent Emery a message that I would have to fulfill my lunch obligation with him another time so I could get everything wrapped up. We still needed a lot of shit, including the most important—a bed—but I didn’t dare to choose those without him. That was Emery’s forte. He would want to decorate the place himself, and I couldn’t wait to see what he would make of our home.

I arrived at school just in time for my football practice, but the keys in my pocket were worth it. We had a home!

The football team didn’t have regular practice today. Instead, we talked about their expectations and fears and how to play well despite those fears. The school had yet to hire the sports psychologist I’d requested for the season, and I did what I could to motivate them.

After our heart-to-heart, the boys left. Some watched the cheerleaders practice while others made plans to grab a burger. I excused myself and went to my office to lock up for the evening. Before I left, I sent Emery a text reminding him where to meet me.

He sent me a picture of him, one side of his jeans pulled down to show me his left ass cheek covered in lace. I closed my eyes and exhaled softly.

For Emery.

I’d promised him I wouldn’t confront his father, but I couldn’t keep my word. I’d thought I could, but Emery’s bruised body flashed through my mind, and I couldn’t let it go. Emery deserved better. He deserved someone to be his voice.

Twenty minutes later, I arrived at Emery’s home. I parked on the street. Last time his father had accused me of being on his property.

I got out of the car, strode to the front door, and rang the bell. When no one answered, I hammered my fist onto the door. He had to be home. This might be the only chance I had to talk to his father, and I had to do it before Emery would get wind of it. I’d let him talk me out of it so many times, but now he wasn’t with me to change my mind.

The front door was yanked open, and Emery’s father appeared. He was almost my height but bulkier with large hands, trunk-like legs, heavy waist, and a broad chest. How could a man his size think to smack Emery around?

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he snapped. “The boy doesn’t live here anymore. Go get your fix elsewhere, you pervert.”

I clenched my hands into fists at my sides. “I’m here to talk to you about Emery.”

“What you gotta say to me, huh?”

“He’s your son and—”

He spat at my feet. “He’s no son of mine. He’s a pansy who deserves everything he got. A few more months and I would’ve knocked him straight, but the little bitch hasn’t been back since our last fight. He knows better too, after the shit he pulled.”

Heat blazed through me, and a cloudy haze filled my brain and distorted my vision. I slammed my fist into his face. He stumbled back, but he managed to steady himself against the wall, staring at me as though he couldn’t believe I’d just hit him. Thank god once was enough. My hand hurt like hell.

I entered the house and slammed the door shut behind me. No need to give a nosy neighbor a show.

“I hope you’re listening real good,” I said slowly. “Emery’s not your punching bag anymore. Do you hear me? You’ve hit and punched and slapped him once too many. And it stops today.”

“Who the—”

I punched him again, and blood spurted out of his nose. He fell to his knees, clutching his nose and bleeding all over the carpet. The blood on my fist didn’t matter. Nothing did except freeing Emery from this low-life bastard.

“Doesn’t feel good to be hit, does it? Now think about all the times you beat your son. How small he is compared to you, you piece of shit. If you ever, and I mean ever, lay another hand on him, I’ll ensure you live to regret it.”

“You can’t threaten me,” he groaned. “I’ll go to the police.”

“Yes, please do that. I only wish I’d done that the first time I came here, and you hit him.” I pointed at him. “You just fuck with him once more and see what I’ll do to you.”

I wasn’t a violent man by nature. God knew I wasn’t. But I’d reached the limit of how much I could accept, knowing Emery had suffered without doing anything about it.

It didn’t feel like nearly enough.