Page 64 of Yesterday I Cared
She glances around at the adults nodding in confirmation before relaxing and mumbling out her gratitude.
We don't have to wait long before two people approach the building. One of them is Penny, looking as professional and put together as she did at almost three o'clock this morning. The other is a man who's probably in his late twenties, with cropped brown hair, and dressed like he rolled out of bed to get here as quickly as possible. It must be Liam.
Bryce lets them in, briefly introducing himself, but the man's eyes keep darting all over the place. When they finally land on Emmie, who just came back from getting a phone charger we have upstairs, the tension in his shoulders eases, a look of relief washing over him.
"Liam!" Emmie drops the charging cord and beelines for her big brother.
"Hey, Em," I hear him say back after pulling her into a tight hug.
All the adults take a step back, trying to give the siblings a moment, especially when Emmie's shoulders start shaking and Liam's follow soon after. Bryce and Carter make a small huddle with Penny,quietly answering her questions. I avert my eyes, but before I do, I can't help the swell of hope in my chest.
Maybe this one will work out.
Once Emmie and Liam head out to spend the day with Penny to determine what'll happen next and what the best course of action for her is, I head upstairs to the office. Bryce and Carter are sequestered in theirs, both of them offering to take over my practices for the day, but Mia is lounging on the couch in the common area.
When she sees me walk through the door, she closes her laptop, and sets it on the table. I collapse on the other end of the couch, casually pulling her legs into my lap and running my fingers along her calf.
"How did it go?"
When I turn toward her, she has her elbow on the back of the couch, watching me closely. "Pretty good, actually. Liam seems like a good guy. He also seems committed to keeping Emmie here despite what it'll mean for him."
"So you think this is going to work out?"
"I can't say for sure, but I do think he's the best thing for her right now. He clearly cares about her and has tried to fight for her before. I'm not worried he won't show up for her, but there are circumstances outside of our control. Even his control. I like to think I know the kids I coach, but I've seen kids who come from similar situations react in ways I never could have anticipated."
"Well, I know I don't have experience with this, but I think you made the right calls and did everything you could," she says. "And I think Emmie is grateful for you showing up. I think all these kids arepretty damn lucky to have you as their coach, Ronan. At least they know someone's looking out for them."
Despite everything I've spent the last few years doing, I've never had someone tell me I'm doing the right thing. Or even that what I did was good. Tears sting the corners of my eyes a little bit, causing me to look straight ahead, and will them away.
It's not that I'm scared to cry in front of Mia—it's quite the opposite actually. I'm scared that once I start, I won't be able to stop. Between the exhaustion and being with someone I trust wholeheartedly, a few tears might lead to a full breakdown. I am too tired to deal with that today.
Mia's foot nudges against my stomach, pulling my attention back to her. She's looking at me with a goofy grin, which must mean I missed something.
"I'm sorry, I zoned out there for a second," I admit, resuming the gentle movement of my fingers against her bare leg.
"Yeah, you did." I must hit a ticklish spot because the way she squirms brings a smile to my face. "I was trying to ask you a question. A very serious question."
Brows furrowed, I sit up a little straighter, my hand stilling on her leg. "Sure, what's up?"
"I was thinking about last night…"
My brain short circuits for a second, trying to come up with what she could possibly be talking about. Last night? When I had to take one of my swimmers out of a neglectful home? Weren't we already talking—Oh.
"You mean our date?" Despite my exhaustion and evident brain fog—because how the hell was that only last night?—a smile manages to tug at the corner of my lips. "Please, tell me more."
A faint blush coats her cheeks, so I give her calf a squeeze, hoping I help ease her embarrassment. "I know I told you this already, but I had a lot of fun and it was great to spend so much time together."
"I had fun, too. It felt like old times, didn't it?"
"No." She laughs. "You would have never taken a cooking class with me back then, no matter how much you liked me and liked spending time with me."
"It is not my fault I didn't learn to use a stove properly until I was thirty," I argue. "Blame my parents. I would have started a fire back then."
Her laugh seems to dance around the room, her eyes bright with a joy I want to bask in forever. God, do I want to keep being the person who makes her smile like that.
But right now, I'm anxious to see where this conversation is going. "Don't get distracted, Sheridan. You were thinking about last night and how much fun we had…what comes next?"
She pushes back strands of hair that have fallen out of her ponytail, giving me a shy look. "Despite your inability to use a stove all those years ago, I always thought we were building something. A real foundation after that night in Omaha, you know?"
