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The look on Theo’s face sucked. There was no sophisticated way to describe it. I’d known exactly what I was walking into when I accepted the position. I’d understood that there was no realistic way to warn him first, and I’d spent the entire drive to Harbor Tech preparing for whatever reaction I might get when I walked onto that field. Anger, shock, and confusion had been high on the list of what I’d accounted for. But seeing them on his face? That was entirely different.

For the briefest moment, when our eyes met, Theo looked lost, like he couldn’t reconcile the man he knew with the one standing in front of him. The one who was now his coach. That look shifted into betrayal, which he quickly masked. I forced my attention away from him because I hated it. I hated being the cause of that look.

Theo McLaughlin had weaseled his way under my skin, and I still hadn’t figured out how the hell he’d managed to do so. What had started as a hookup should’ve stayed uncomplicated. That was the point. We wanted each other. We had fun. Neither of us asked for anything more, and when we walked out the door, we returned to our separate lives.

Except somewhere along the way, the lines had started blurring. We talked—a lot. He came over, even when sex wasn’t necessarily the first thing on either of our minds. I knew what classes frustrated him, what food he ordered when he was too tired to cook, and his back-and-forth schedule between the frat house and his parents’ house. He knew when I’d had a bad day before I told him and had developed the irritating habit of making himself comfortable in my house as if he belonged there. I spent more time with him than I did with my own family.

I just didn’t know what the hell this was between us, and I had no intention of finding out. Theo was young—really young. He had an entire life in front of him. And me? I wasn’t staying in Everdale forever. Whatever existed between us had always come with an expiration date. Accepting this job had simply moved that date forward. We had no future, but now I had a professional obligation to make damn sure we didn’t pretend otherwise.

I drew in a deep breath as I recentered myself away from that line of thinking. The entire team was staring at me, waiting for me to say more.

“I understand this whole thing is a fucking mess,” I said as I crossed my arms. “And yes, I’m going to swear sometimes because we’re all adults here, and I fucking like it.”

Laughter broke out almost immediately. Good. Did I need to add the second fuck in there? No. Had I put it there intentionally because everyone in front of me looked like they’d spent the day waiting for their lives to implode? Absolutely. Tension was a variable like anything else. Reduce it enough, and people started thinking clearly again. I could work with that.

“I know it’s two weeks until the season starts and this kind of change is detrimental to everything you’re going to try to accomplish this season,” I continued when enough of them had relaxed some. “I have a plan.”

Technically, that was true. I had half a plan. More accurately, I had the beginning of a plan, several contingency plans, and a detailed plan for how I intended to finish creating an actual plan. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the same thing. I’d negotiated conditions, showered, dressed, and driven across town with barely enough time to fully process what I’d agreed to. I was essentially winging it, and I hated winging it.

“Here’s what we’re going to do: we’re going to go over a few things I’m going to implement, and then we’re going to spend the rest of the day getting to know each other. I think it’s important we get to know one another. I’m going to open the floor for you guys to ask me any questions you want—within reason, Jude,” I interrupted myself as my little brother opened his mouth and raised his hand. That little asshole was about to ask something obscene solely because he knew I couldn’t strangle him in front of everyone. “Behave.”

“I don’t want to.” He grinned—that stupid, shit-eating grin. I loved my brother deeply, but there were also moments I wanted to throttle him. Theo elbowed him hard, and Jude twisted toward him. A silent argument ensued between the two of them, complete with lifted brows and eyes narrowed. Theo gave him a look. Jude gave him one right back. It was bizarre but nothing new. Eventually, Jude rolled his eyes and shut his mouth.

“But before we start, there’s something we need to go over.” And this was where I expected to lose them. “Starting today, your positions on the team are not guaranteed.”

The uproar was instantaneous, as expected. Voices erupted from every direction, outrage rolling across the field. I waited. There was no point in trying to overpower a team of pissed-off football players. It was smarter to let them get it out before dealing with the actual concern underneath it.

At least, that was the theory. They took considerably longer to shut up than I’d hoped.

“I understand this may be unorthodox,” I said over the lingering opposition. “But I believe it’s necessary given everything. We’re going to train and work your asses off as I figure out what works best for not only the team but also for each of you individually. The likelihood is most of you will remain in your current positions, but if I believe your skill is better suited elsewhere, I will move your position.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“That’s not fair!”

The complaints just kept coming, and I nodded through each and every one of them. As far as they were concerned, some guy with no coaching experience had walked onto their field and announced he might start moving them around. I would’ve told me to fuck off too.

“I understand this isn’t fair!” I had to practically shout to be heard. My volume did what reasoning hadn’t, and the noise dropped gradually. “I understand this isn’t fair. And I get it. I’m just some asshole who walked out here and started telling you what will and won’t happen.”

That comment earned me a spattering of laughter, which I counted as a good thing.

“I assure you your positions on the team are not at stake here,” I said. “As I said, most of you will probably end up right back where you’re at. However, if I think you’re better suited for a different position, then I’ll move you. It’ll be done with the understanding that you’ll play better, and I’ll only do so after we’ve run drills and I’ve proven to you this new position is better for you.”

I wasn’t interested in changing shit for the sake of proving I could. That wasn’t how systems worked. My job was to identify what was functioning, what the weak points were, and then adjust only the variables that needed adjusting. While the previous coaches had done the same, I didn’t trust their judgment, all things considered.

“What about the starting team?”

Fuck… I had no idea who this guy was. I really should’ve learned their names first.

“The starting team will remain on the starting team,” I told them. That was an understandable worry. “You worked your asses off to be starters, so that much won’t change. However, I will assess if your current positions on the starting team are the best options for you. If I have to shuffle you around, I will.”

That eased some of the tension—not all of it, but enough. Questions and complaints continued, but they were more specific. I let most of them wash over me. There would be time to deal with individual concerns once I actually knew who was talking to me.

For now, I needed them to understand one thing: I wasn’t here to dismantle their team. I was trying to keep it alive among the chaos and mess left by the previous coaching staff.

“Now, what we’re going to do,” I continued just to keep everything going, “is spend the day getting to know each other. Instead of me just talking out my ass about shit that none of you care about, I want you guys to ask me questions.”

“Anything we want, right? After all, we’re just trying to get to know you,” Jude said with a shit-eating grin. Damn it.