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CHAPTER ELEVEN

ATLAS

Just like every other night since Trouble had arrived, I’d slept like shit, my dreams absolutely consumed by the one woman I shouldn’t be thinking about.

After finally accepting I wasn’t going to get any more sleep, I’d climbed into the shower and attempted to jerk off to a faceless woman.

Same as I did every other morning.

But she kept infiltrating my thoughts.

Rather than give in and replay every second of our time together, I scrubbed myself down while glaring at my hard and ever-persistent cock.

I’d shut off the water without finding any relief, and only then had I noticed I’d forgotten my goddamn towel.

It was a shitty start to what would no doubt be a shitty day.

That was proven as I yanked open my kitchen cabinet, reached for the bag of coffee beans, and came up empty.

In all the chaos of this week, I’d forgotten to pick some up at the store.

Out of habit, I glanced out the window into my backyard…

and straight toward the now-occupied cottage.

Except I saw no signs of life there, her car nowhere to be found.

I had no fucking idea why the fact that she was gone made me clench my jaw and glare at absolutely nothing.

And that only pissed me off more.

By the time I got to my mom’s for breakfast, I was in a shit mood with no hope of hiding it.

And it was only made worse by the state of the kitchen.

It was still an absolute fucking disaster because of the pipes.

The plumber had been booked all week and wasn’t able to come over until tomorrow.

It didn’t seem to bother anyone else, though.

Mom, Declan, and Lincoln sat around the dining room table, the pile of my fan mail still scattered across the surface.

I jerked my chin toward the mess and scowled.

“I thought I told you to get rid of all that.”

“I will…” Mom shot me a smile over the rim of her coffee cup.

“Eventually.”

Lincoln grinned as he shoved half a muffin into his mouth.

“We paid her fifty bucks to let us poke through the pile first.”

I split a gaze between my brothers.

“You’re assholes.”

Declan shrugged.

“Never claimed otherwise.”

“Don’t you two have more important shit to deal with than my fan mail?”

“No,” Declan said, at the same time Lincoln said, “It can all wait.”

“I’m not so sure about that.”

“You’re probably right.” Lincoln nodded.

“I should take care of the fridge sooner rather than later.”

“What fridge?” I glanced over my shoulder at my mom’s, eyeing it top to bottom.

It would just figure something was wrong with it, considering everything else going on here.

“The one at the bar,” Lincoln said.

“That fucker’s as dead as a zombie.”

“ Dead ? When the hell did that happen?”

“Last night.”

“And you’re just telling me now ?”

He raised a brow at me.

“Yeah, I wanted to avoid this for as long as possible.”

I blew out a heavy sigh and gripped the back of a chair, the wood creaking under my hands.

“Did you get it cleaned up?”

“What’s there to clean up?”

I clenched my teeth, my jaw ticking as I stared at my youngest brother.

“Jesus, Linc. There’s going to be water every-fucking-where. And you just left it?”

He leaned back in his chair, the picture of indifference, and shook his head.

“God damn , you’re grumpier than usual this morning. Don’t worry about it.”

“One of us has to, and it’s clearly not you. Now I’ve gotta go to the bar and deal with that instead of heading to school for my actual job.”

“Maybe I can help,” Mom said, sitting up a little straighter.

“Someone can cover my shift at the library. There are all kinds of different help videos on YouTube. I bet I can find something?—”

“No,” Declan, Lincoln, and I all said at the same time.

“ I’ll go to the bar. I’ll even text you updates, you control freak.” Lincoln kicked the chair next to him, sliding it toward me.

“Now, sit down and have breakfast with us.”

“With us ? No. You’re going to clean up the bar like you just told me you would. And I want an update before I finish my first cup of coffee.” I stalked over to the coffee station, pulled a mug down from the cabinet, and grabbed the pot.

Only to find it empty.

Empty .

Because of fucking course it was.

I shot a glare toward the dining room.

Who the fuck left an empty pot without starting another this early in the morning?

Lincoln and Mom were talking, but Declan winked at me, holding his coffee cup up in a salute.

“Little fucker,” I muttered under my breath as I readied the machine to make another pot…

only to find the bag of coffee grounds empty.

I braced my hands on the counter, closed my eyes, and blew out an exhausted sigh, ready for this entire day to be over.

On the plus side, there was no way it could get any worse.

Turned out, I was wrong.

My day could absolutely get worse.

First, I’d gotten halfway to work before realizing I’d left my playbook on my kitchen counter and had to turn around.

Then, the ancient water fountain outside my office finally kicked it, creating a fucking water park in the hallway—and on my pants.

And now this .

How the hell did people expect me to coach this team to the playoffs if so many of my goddamn players were missing during practice?

I stormed into the school office, the door ricocheting off the wall in my wake, and took in the mess in front of me.

Half a dozen of my players filled the space, some lounging on the mismatched chairs, all of them acting as if they didn’t have a game to prep for.

“What the fuck are you doing? Is no one interested in playing some goddamn football today?”

Jackson glanced over with a shrug.

“Sorry, Coach, we had our orders.”

“Whose orders?” I barked.

Because whoever they were, we were going to have words.

“Nurse Sutton.”

“Nurse Sut—” I darted my gaze around, looking for whoever the fuck this person was and cranking myself up to give them a piece of my mind.

You didn’t just steal football players in the middle of practice.

There were protocols to follow.

Proper channels, clear communication…

Some basic fucking courtesies.

And this nurse thought she could just?—

All the air was sucked out of the room, my internal tirade coming to a screeching halt when my eyes landed on trouble.

My Trouble.

No, not my anything.

Someone was playing a cosmic fucking joke on me.

They had to be. Because Trouble—Sutton, apparently—stood with a clipboard in hand, one brow raised in my direction.

Her lips were pursed as she regarded me, eyes challenging, before dismissing me just as quickly.

But I remembered when those same eyes had been blissed out after her sixth orgasm.

Remembered her throaty little moans falling from those plush lips every time I sank deep.

Recalled exactly how she?—

“Coach Steele,” she said, and I ignored the way my muscles tensed at hearing my name from her lips.

“I see you’re an equal opportunity asshole.”

“You—” I glowered at her, trying to get a read on just what the fuck was happening here.

But I had no idea because she’d thrown me off my game.

I was never off my game.

“You can’t say ‘asshole’ in front of the kids.”

The kid standing closest to me snorted—no doubt because I’d just stormed in here, throwing around far more colorful language—and I shot him a glare that shut him up real quick.

Not her, though.

This infuriating woman just shrugged.

“I call ’em like I see ’em. If you don’t want me to call you an asshole in front of the kids, stop acting like an asshole.”

I crossed my arms and clenched my jaw, refusing to allow her to get under my skin.

Well…any more than she already was.

But that ended right here, right now.

I didn’t care if she was my tenant, and I didn’t care if we had to, apparently, work together.

I had no room in my life for anything else.

Certainly not a mess like this.

“We’re in the middle of practice,” I snapped.

“This game against Central isn’t going to win itself. Whatever you need can wait.”

Instead of rising to my bait, she just gave me her back as she focused on some paperwork in front of her.

“If you want these guys on the field this weekend, they’re going to stay here until I’m done with them. These incomplete physical forms say they can’t do anything until I sign off, let alone participate in an away game. So, do you want them to play or not, Coach?”

“Yeah, Coach, you want us to play or not?” Jackson echoed.

“Was anyone talking to you? Drop and give me thirty.”

He grinned, shooting a glance at his buddies.

“You’re joking, right?”

I pinned him with a glare.

“Does it look like I’m joking?”

“Damn, Coach,” he muttered, but he dropped as instructed and began his push-ups.

“Who pissed in your Cheerios this morning?”

I flicked a brief glance at Sutton before turning my glower back on him.

“Make it fifty.”

Later that night, I wasn’t in any better of a mood by the time I left the school and stalked to my car in the pouring rain.

This day had gone from shitty to shittier, and I wanted a hard reset on the entire fucking thing.

I turned onto my driveway, my headlights bouncing over the terrain, the shapes distorted thanks to the rain.

But not distorted enough that I didn’t see a pile of something in the middle of the path.

I slowed to get a better look and stopped entirely when it moved.

“What the hell?” Throwing my SUV into park, I opened the door and got out, the rain dousing me in seconds.

I stalked over to investigate, squatted down, and found a pile of…

kitten?

It gave a pitiful mewl, the tiny thing shivering and soaked to the bone.

A gust of wind kicked up, nearly toppling it over.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

How the hell did this get all the way out here?

I lived too far off the beaten path for it to be someone’s pet, besides the fact that it didn’t have a collar.

I scooped up the pile of pitifulness and held it out in front of me.

The entire drenched ball of fur fit in the palm of my hand.

I might be an asshole, but I wasn’t so much of an asshole that I’d leave this thing out here to figure shit out on its own.

With another muttered curse, I unzipped my jacket, tucked the kitten inside, and headed back toward my SUV.

Certain I’d pissed off karma at some point, based on my week so far.

I hated cats. What, with all the ways they were constantly plotting your murder and all.

Worse, I had no fucking idea what to do with one.

As usual, I’d stayed late at the school, which meant the vet clinic was closed for the evening.

My brothers would only make matters worse if I asked for help.

And my mom was at her weekly book club and wouldn’t be home for a couple hours.

Which meant I was up shit creek without a paddle.

As soon as I pulled around the side of my house toward the garage, the lights from the guest cottage caught my attention, an idea taking shape.

A bad fucking idea, especially when I’d just decided to stay as far away from the woman as possible.

But I didn’t have much of a choice, now did I?

It was either ask the little demon nurse for help or watch this pitiful creature waste away, all because it was unlucky enough to find itself in my driveway.

Glancing down at the nearly drowned animal tucked in my coat, I clenched my jaw, blew out a heavy sigh, and accepted that this was my only option.

Without allowing myself a moment to second-guess my decision, I stalked over to the cottage, pissed off every step of the way, thanks to the rain pelting my face and this damn animal I didn’t want tucked in my jacket.

What appeared to be every light in the cottage was on, and the front window was open despite the downpour, the covered porch granting it shelter.

I rang the doorbell and waited.

And waited. And waited some more.

Stepping to the side, I ducked down and glanced in the front window.

Sutton’s mini-me sat on the couch, her feet propped up on the coffee table while she scrolled on her phone.

Completely fucking ignoring everything else, me included.

“Hello?” I knocked on the window, but she didn’t even spare me a glance.

I knocked again, harder this time.

“I can see you, you know.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t be a weirdo who stares in windows, then.”

“I wouldn’t have to if you’d answer the door. Didn’t you hear me knock?”

“You mean the pounding that rattled the floors? Yeah, I heard it. So what?”

“ So, why didn’t you answer the door?”

“Who answers the door when they’re home by themselves except a woman who wants to get murdered in a horror movie? Not on my watch, buddy.”

“I’m not here to murder you.”

“I don’t know. That’s probably what every murderer in the history of the world has ever said.”

“We’ve met. I’m the landlord. And the football coach. I’ve seen you at school this week. Laurel, right?”

“Knowing my name isn’t helping your case, weirdo.”

“Will you please open the door?” I said through clenched teeth.

“I’ve got a serious situation here.”

Her entire body sagged with a heavy sigh.

But she dropped her feet off the coffee table and stood before stalking over to the front door and swinging it open for me.

“Didn’t learn your lesson the other day, huh? Well, whatever. Doesn’t matter. My mom’s not home.”

Eight o’clock, and Sutton wasn’t home?

There wasn’t a whole hell of a lot to do in Starlight Cove this late.

And the thought that she could be out on a date sparked something low in my gut that I refused to examine.

“I’m not here about your mom,” I barked, as much for her as for myself.

Laurel just raised her brow at me, a move so eerily similar to her mother, I nearly staggered back.

“Then what are you here for?”

I reached into my zipped-up jacket and pulled out the still-soaked ball of fur.

Her other brow followed the first as she split a glance between me and the animal.

“You came to show us your kitten?”

“I came to see if you had a kitten or a cat or…I don’t know. Anything at all to take care of this…thing.”

“That thing ? Shouldn’t you have gotten all that before you picked up your new cat?”

Jesusfuck.

Why did teenagers have a way of making you feel so fucking stupid with every word that came out of their mouths?

“I didn’t plan for this. I found it in the middle of my driveway. Should I have left it there for your mom to run over whenever she happens to show up?” I snapped my mouth shut, shoving down whatever misplaced irritation I had when it came to that woman.

“Look, I just need some help. Do you or don’t you have any cats?”

“We do not.”

“I don’t suppose you want one?”

“Why are you trying to get rid of your new pet?”

“It’s not my pet! I don’t even want it.” I scrubbed a hand over my brow and tucked the kitten back inside my coat.

She shrugged, projecting that teenage air of indifference.

“Doesn’t matter. You were chosen by the Kitten Distribution System.”

“By the fucking what?”

“You know, kittens just get delivered randomly.” She gestured toward where the tiny creature was curled up in my jacket.

“Clearly.”

“Why the hell did the system pick me? I hate cats.”

She shrugged again.

“I’ve heard that happens sometimes.”

“Well, we’re both fucked. I don’t know what the hell to do with this thing. Can you help me or not?”

“I can’t.” She shrugged, shot a glance over my shoulder, and said, “But maybe she can.”