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Put Me In, Coach
Last Updated:
2025-08-29 22:13:44
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A Sketch Away From Perfect Emotional Release
*Harper*Sure enough, my picture is all over the tabloids the following morning. I sigh as I chew my cereal and scroll through my phone while May takes her morning nap. If nothing else, at least it’s a good picture of me. The dress Damien bought really accentuates my curves, and the color is gorgeous against my skin. I look like someone much more glamorous than I actually am.I scroll through a few more articles and see pictures of Rafe and me at the restaurant the other night. I had no clue they were taking pictures of us in the restaurant. We look cozy, though, and happy together. Rafe is laughing at something I’ve said, while I take a sip of my drink. We’re the picture of domesticity.“Who is this Mystery Woman?” echoes most of the headlines.“Is Bullet Maloney a Cuckold?” asks one.“Apparently Damien Blackwood Does Know How to Share,” reads another.I roll my eyes, but the pictures are everywhere. Even on social media, I’m confronted with my face and a barrage of nasty comments un
A Sketch Away From Perfect A Little Help
*Harper*Rafe holds me gently and runs his fingers lazily down my spine. I could stay here all night, I really could, but I’m not going to abandon May the same way her mother did. The last thing she needs is more disruption to her life.“Rafe,” I whisper.His hand stills. “Hmm?”“I have to go.”He tightens underneath me. “Already?”I nod against his skin and force myself upright. “I don't want to leave McKenzie alone too long,” I explain. “She’s great with May, but this isn’t her responsibility. It’s mine.”“It actually isn’t yours,” he argues. “It’s Melody’s.”He shifts so I am looking at him. He gives me a teasing grin, but the concern in his eyes is real. “I could stay at your place,” he suggests. “Make you breakfast in bed tomorrow. Take the morning shift with May.”“You have an early practice tomorrow,” I remind him. “It’s so sweet of you to offer, but you shouldn’t put your life on hold too.”“I don’t mind,” he says earnestly. “You know I would do anything for you.”“I do,” I ag
A Sketch Away From Perfect Put Me In, Coach
*Rafe* Cold air hits me as soon as I step outside for practice. Fall is definitely turning into Winter, and soon our games are going to be brutal. It doesn’t bother me today, though. Maybe it’s because the Vikings are sitting on our best record in years, and the Super Bowl’s within our reach. Or maybe it’s because Harper’s back in town. Once practice is over, I get in my truck, crank the heat, and pull up her contact. The only thing that could make this weekend better would be seeing my girl. But when she answers on the third ring, she sounds exhausted. I’m shocked to hear a baby crying in the background. “Is there something you forgot to tell me?” I joke. “Don’t even start,” she snaps grumpily. “Melody’s basically abandoned her daughter here. I’m on day three with no idea when or if she’s even coming back.” “What the fuck?” I curse. “Are you okay?” “I don’t know,” she answers honestly, and I hear the stress in her voice. “May’s been fussy all morning. I think she hates me. I
A Sketch Away From Perfect Adventures in Babysitting
*Harper* May’s been fussy all night, and I still can’t reach Melody. I try rocking the baby on my hip, trying to bounce and hum at the same time while brushing my teeth with my free hand. My toothbrush hits the back of my throat and I gag, which makes her scream louder. “Jesus, May,” I mumble around a mouthful of foam. “I’m trying.” I spit, rinse, and wipe my mouth on the nearest towel. My hair is a frizzy mess, and I haven’t even touched my makeup yet. My shirt is damp from where May drooled all over it twenty minutes ago, and I smell like spit-up. I glance at the clock. It’s already 10:42 A.M., and I’m supposed to be at Scott’s at noon. I’ve texted Melody five times and called her three. Nothing. Not even a read receipt. Just silence. And it’s starting to piss me off. “Okay,” I say to May, shifting her to the other hip. “Let’s try the bottle again. You have to work with me here.” She hiccups and stares up at me with wide eyes like I’m the crazy one. I try to bounce her on my
A Sketch Away From Perfect One Heck of a Reunion
*Tomás* The second I see Harper, I forget how to breathe. It’s been over eight damn weeks since I’ve seen her or touched her or held her in my arms after a long night of making love to her perfect body. But when she sees me and smiles, it’s like no time at all has passed. Dios mío. She’s so fucking beautiful. Her soft blue dress swishes around those perfect legs that I can’t wait to wrap around my waist. Her hair spills down around her shoulders, just begging me to run my hands through it. I want to bury myself in the scent of her, and fall apart while she screams my name. “Hola profe,” she says on an exhale. “Helena,” I murmur, stepping closer. I offer my arm like a gentleman, but my hand brushes her waist and lingers a second longer than necessary. “Estás preciosa.” She bats me away but then wraps her arms around my neck, pulling me into a tight hug. My own arms instinctively tighten around her waist, holding her to me as closely as I possibly can. “Te extrañé mucho, mi
A Sketch Away From Perfect Coming Home
*Damien*When the plane touches down in Paris, it’s early morning. Fog clings to the runway, and the city is still half-asleep. I head straight for her apartment, and she’s waiting by the door when I arrive, her packed suitcases at her side.The second she sees me, she rushes forward, and I catch her mid-step, my arms winding tight around her waist. Her face buries into my chest, and I feel her sigh, all that tension easing just a little as I hold her close.“Hi,” she murmurs.“Hi,” I say back, kissing the top of her head. “Let’s get you out of here.”We don’t talk much on the way to the airport. She curls into me on the plane, her fingers laced with mine, her head resting against my shoulder. I let her sleep while I make a few quiet calls. I want Andre gone. I want every trace of him scrubbed from that school. I want his career burned to the ground.I call in a favor with a friend who sits on the board of directors. By the time we hit cruising altitude, I’ve sent him a copy of Harp
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