<Coach Styles>

Twenty Five

This is going to be D-R-A-M-A-T-I-C. Be prepared
xoxo
Enjoy!!
Neely's POV:

Finally pulling up to the building, I sighed. I didn't wanna leave him. I felt a pang of nervousness rumble through me as I spotted my Uncle's sleek, shiny Lexus parked right out front. He was early.

"I'm scared," I groaned.

"There's nothing to be afraid of," he chuckled.

"Alright. Will I see you later or something?"

"I'll be back here at 6:15 to pick you up. There already should be something for you to wear waiting on you."

"You're a trip," I laughed and grabbed all the bags from the back seat before opening my door.

"You'll be fine and I'll see you later," he cooed, kissing me softly.

"Bye," I blushed.

"Bye gorgeous." Closing the door behind me and walking inside, Leroy greeted me with a smile.

"Hey Neely," he beamed. "There's something here for you."

"Thanks," I smiled, the cool lobby air conditioning blasting me as the door closed. Making my way to the elevator, I patiently waited before stepping inside and unable to settle the feeling in the pit of my stomach as I pressed the PH button Max had to have pressed only minutes before I did. Trying to calm myself as I rose the thirty four floors, I took deep breaths until I lost count and the elevator doors finally opened. Walking to the front door, I knocked loudly before walking in and shutting it behind me. It was eerily quiet.

"Uncle Max?" I yelled, sitting my bags by the stairs.

"In here, honey!" he replied from the kitchen. Seeing his tall, tan physique as I turned the corner, I couldn't help but laugh at the bright blue striped shorts he had on.

"It's been a while," I chuckled as he hugged me softly.

"I'm sorry honey, resta-"

"I know, something happened with a restaurant. Always does," I interrupted. "Anyway, I'm glad you're back. Staying with Grace for five days was starting to wain on me."

"Did she get you all that for your birthday?" he asked, nodding to the bags.

"Yeah. She loves to spoil me," I lied, hopefully smoothly.

"Why don't you take your stuff up to your room and then we can have a chat," he smiled. Oh God, this couldn't have been good.

"Okay," I nodded skeptically and walked back toward the stairs. Slowly taking my stuff up I smiled as I walked into my familiar room and sat everything down. Not a single hung was out of place from my messy bed to the Nike Elite socks bursting from my dresser drawers. Walking cautiously back down the stairs, I plopped down next to him on the couch and waited nervously for him to speak.

"Honey," he sighed. "We've got to do something about the clothes you wear." Wait, what the fuck?

"What do you mean?"

"I have a reputation to uphold in this city and all you want to walk around in is Nike stuff and sweatpants all the time. I need you to take more pride in yourself."

"Oh my God," I laughed, sincerely amused at his statement. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

"No, I'm not. Watch your language."

"You travel ten months out of the year, leaving me food money on the counter with a note, and then you think you can honestly come in here and make me believe you give a damn about the way I look? Like you honestly give a shit about me? You only took me in because Peter, John, Alex, and Mark live in different countries," I snapped.