the colors of raspberries, and she self-consciously tucks her unruly brown
curls behind her ears. "I need to see you again," I murmur into her
ear.
I watch a smile spread across her
face, and she crawls to the foot of her bed and reaches for a pencil and piece
of paper on her desk. She writes out her number, and then hands it to me. I
stuff it into my pocket, kiss her softly on the lips, and nod to Danielle, who
looks positively delighted by what she's witnessing.
As I head out of the dorm, I check the time on my phone.
Good thing Danielle woke us up, actually, because I need to be at practice. It's
not a full practice since we had a game last night, but Coach McKay wants the
first team to meet with our offensive coordinator to go over some missteps. Not
that any of them were on me. Some of these younger players just don't spend
enough time with the playbook and end up fucking up.
During the meeting, I listen with half an ear as I turn my
phone over and over in my pocket. I want to ask Britt on a proper date, but I
haven't had to do that for years. I guess I should call, rather than text.
Fuck, I know this is a bad idea. I mean, she's Coach's
daughter, and I could tell by the look in his eyes when he held Devon up
against those lockers that he wasn't fooling around. But there's something
about Britt...she's like a drug to me. The fact that I'm going to see her again
feels inevitable.
I want to roll my eyes as I catch Rob, the sophomore tight
end who fumbled in the game, frowning over the playbook, but then I catch
myself. I wonder what Britt would think of me, dismissing this kid so quickly.
She's a better person than me, that's obvious. So how can I make myself worthy
of her?
The meeting wraps up, and Rob looks like he's about to get a
migraine as he rubs his temples and stares at the patterns that our offensive
coordinator has been trying to drill into our heads. My body feels stiff and
bruised. There's nothing I'd like more right now than to head back to my
apartment and sink into a nice hot bath.
"Come on," I say to Rob, cuffing him on the
shoulder.
"What? Why?" he asks, looking alarmed.
"You're clearly not learning anything by sitting here,
so let's go," I reply brusquely, and he frowns. Shit, I sound like I'm
insulting him. I sigh. "I'm going to help you," I clarify.
"Oh, shit, really?" he asks, quickly getting to
his feet. I lead him down the hallway and out toward the practice field.
"This playbook is so overwhelming, man."
"Maybe you're just not a visual learner," I tell
him. "Some people have to learn by doing." I grab a rack of practice
balls and pull it onto the field behind me, rolling my shoulder around to get
it loose. Rob gets into the three-point position, and for the next hour, I
drill him over and over in our most commonly used plays. My throwing arm is
begging me for a break, but by the end, Rob looks way better than I've ever
seen him.
I turn back toward the building for a second, and see a face
watching us from the offices. It's Coach McKay, and he's staring right at me. I
look away, feeling unsettled. He couldn't have found out about me and Britt,
right?
Chapter 13
Britt
"Wow, Rob's playing well tonight," I comment to
Danielle from our front row seats. Vanover is playing Colorado in a home night
game, and we're up ten to seven near the end of the second half.
"Which one is that again?" she murmurs, peering
out onto the field.
"The tight end who ran the slant." She looks at me
blankly. "Number twenty-three," I clarify, pointing him out.
"You really know your stuff," she says, looking
impressed.
"It's hard not to pick up on it," I tell her.
"And intellectually, it can be fascinating."
"Plus Hunter looks so hot in those tight pants,"
Danielle replies.
"That, too," I agree, collapsing into giggles. The
team had an away game last week, so it's been two whole weeks since Hunter and
I have actually been able to see each other, though we've talked on the phone
and texted. I can't
curls behind her ears. "I need to see you again," I murmur into her
ear.
I watch a smile spread across her
face, and she crawls to the foot of her bed and reaches for a pencil and piece
of paper on her desk. She writes out her number, and then hands it to me. I
stuff it into my pocket, kiss her softly on the lips, and nod to Danielle, who
looks positively delighted by what she's witnessing.
As I head out of the dorm, I check the time on my phone.
Good thing Danielle woke us up, actually, because I need to be at practice. It's
not a full practice since we had a game last night, but Coach McKay wants the
first team to meet with our offensive coordinator to go over some missteps. Not
that any of them were on me. Some of these younger players just don't spend
enough time with the playbook and end up fucking up.
During the meeting, I listen with half an ear as I turn my
phone over and over in my pocket. I want to ask Britt on a proper date, but I
haven't had to do that for years. I guess I should call, rather than text.
Fuck, I know this is a bad idea. I mean, she's Coach's
daughter, and I could tell by the look in his eyes when he held Devon up
against those lockers that he wasn't fooling around. But there's something
about Britt...she's like a drug to me. The fact that I'm going to see her again
feels inevitable.
I want to roll my eyes as I catch Rob, the sophomore tight
end who fumbled in the game, frowning over the playbook, but then I catch
myself. I wonder what Britt would think of me, dismissing this kid so quickly.
She's a better person than me, that's obvious. So how can I make myself worthy
of her?
The meeting wraps up, and Rob looks like he's about to get a
migraine as he rubs his temples and stares at the patterns that our offensive
coordinator has been trying to drill into our heads. My body feels stiff and
bruised. There's nothing I'd like more right now than to head back to my
apartment and sink into a nice hot bath.
"Come on," I say to Rob, cuffing him on the
shoulder.
"What? Why?" he asks, looking alarmed.
"You're clearly not learning anything by sitting here,
so let's go," I reply brusquely, and he frowns. Shit, I sound like I'm
insulting him. I sigh. "I'm going to help you," I clarify.
"Oh, shit, really?" he asks, quickly getting to
his feet. I lead him down the hallway and out toward the practice field.
"This playbook is so overwhelming, man."
"Maybe you're just not a visual learner," I tell
him. "Some people have to learn by doing." I grab a rack of practice
balls and pull it onto the field behind me, rolling my shoulder around to get
it loose. Rob gets into the three-point position, and for the next hour, I
drill him over and over in our most commonly used plays. My throwing arm is
begging me for a break, but by the end, Rob looks way better than I've ever
seen him.
I turn back toward the building for a second, and see a face
watching us from the offices. It's Coach McKay, and he's staring right at me. I
look away, feeling unsettled. He couldn't have found out about me and Britt,
right?
Chapter 13
Britt
"Wow, Rob's playing well tonight," I comment to
Danielle from our front row seats. Vanover is playing Colorado in a home night
game, and we're up ten to seven near the end of the second half.
"Which one is that again?" she murmurs, peering
out onto the field.
"The tight end who ran the slant." She looks at me
blankly. "Number twenty-three," I clarify, pointing him out.
"You really know your stuff," she says, looking
impressed.
"It's hard not to pick up on it," I tell her.
"And intellectually, it can be fascinating."
"Plus Hunter looks so hot in those tight pants,"
Danielle replies.
"That, too," I agree, collapsing into giggles. The
team had an away game last week, so it's been two whole weeks since Hunter and
I have actually been able to see each other, though we've talked on the phone
and texted. I can't
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