CHAPTER SIX
The following Monday, Ryker made his way through the parking lot at Wicksburg Elementary School. He hoped today’s soccer practice went well. He looked forward to spending time with Lucy, and as for the boys... how hard could coaching a bunch of eight-and nine-year-old boys be?
He adjusted the strap of the camp-chair bag resting on his left shoulder. He hated sitting, but standing for an entire hour wouldn’t be good if his foot started hurting.
Healing was his number-one priority. He had to be smart about assisting the Defeeters. Not only because of his injury. His agent and the Fuego’s front office might not consider a pseudo coaching gig “laying low” given Blake’s reaction over the fire station spaghetti feed. If anything, this might help with his bad boy image. How could h
