Do Over: A Second Chance Sports Romance: Winthrop Wolves Book 1

by Zoey Shores

  “After what you boys have done on the field these past three weeks, the Wolves are being talked about as a top team. One of the top teams. No one is saying that in a couple years, we might become playoff contenders. That was exciting talk last year, but that’s yesterday’s news now. We’re playoff contenders now.”

  “Hell yeah,” Archer responds, drawing similar hoots and hollers from the rest of the guys.

  Coach silences us with a raise of his hand. “But that can change any moment. Yeah, we’re 3-0 now. But that number in front ain’t too big. Only three games. There are a lot of people out there still saying we’re just a flash in the pan. Beginner’s luck. They’re saying we’ve only won because our opponents have underestimated us. But today – some of them are saying – that comes to an end. Florida is the first team to properly prepare for us, to really scout us like a playoff caliber team deserves to be scouted. They’re saying that this week we’re gonna get put back in our place -- one our home field, no less. What do you boys think of that?”

  “Hell no!” I answer, full throated.

  “Bullshit!” Chase seconds me.

  “No way!” Even Carson joins in on my side. Because right now there isn’t a my side or a his side – only the team’s side.

  “Yeah, I think they’re full of shit, too,” Coach agrees, drawing a laugh from us. “But there’s only one way to prove it. Only one way to really shut up the critics. And boys, if we shut them up today, I think we shut them up for good.”

  “Damn right!” Comes a voice from amongst the huddle; I’m not sure who it is, but it’s joined by many others in the same vein.

  “Are we ready to shut them up now?” Coach raises his voice, challenging us.

  “YES!” we all respond as one.

  “Then go out there and show them the Wolves are here to stay!”

  Adrenaline pumps through my veins as the guitar riffs of our entrance music blast through the stadium speakers. The other guys are cheering, pushing each other, getting each other pumped up. We all jog out onto the field, and the crowd erupts in applause and adulation.

  If we win tonight, no one will be able to deny it any longer. We’ll be legit.

  We knew we were in for a fight, but Florida gave us more than even we bargained for.

  Their defense were monsters. Rushing the pass every play, getting right in my face. Their receivers were having a perfect game, running their hearts out down the field and making spectacular, highlight reel catches. Their Quarterback more than lived up to his hype. He played thugh and smart. He read our defense masterfully and always fit the ball exactly where it needed to go.

  They played without any flaws. They didn’t make any mistakes. They left their heart out there on the field.

  Too bad for them, we still wanted it more.

  It was a game for the ages. The crowd was on the edge of their seat – or on their feet – for every minute of all four quarters. The sports media won’t be talking about anything but this game come Monday.

  And thanks to a last-minute, sixty-five-yard pass that fell right into Carson’s arms and scored us the winning touchdown, we’re walking off the field as the winners. 41-38.

  The locker room is like a nightclub, everyone’s going wild. Cheering, bumping into each other, breaking out into impromptu songs and dances, filming choreographed celebrations on their phones. We can still hear the roar of the crowd and the pump of the victory music from the stadium.

  “Hell of a fucking game, Sage,” Lincoln congratulates the rookie receiver while he’s stripping off his pads. Sage had us all worried during practice, but on the field, he swallowed all his problems and only had one thing in mind: victory. He made two spectacular touchdown catches that ninety percent of NFL catchers wouldn’t have been able to pull off.

  “Thanks, man,” Sage responds, happy, but a sense of forlornness still evident in his voice.

  “Shit, man, you gotta be more pumped than this!” Archer jumps next to him and takes his head under his arm, giving him a big brother style noogie. “You really so preoccupied by that girl of yours coming to Winthrop next semester?”

  Chase joins in. “It’s been obvious since you mentioned her on day one that you’re head over heels for this chick. What’s the deal with all the long faces since you’ve found out she’ll be joining us here? Shit, you should be happy about it!”

  Sage just shakes his head. “It’s complicated, man.”

  Archer sticks out his tongue. “Well, whatever, forget the complications for now. Enjoy your success. You played so fucking amazingly today that your name is gonna be all over the media next week. ESPN, Fox, every football podcast out there. You name it. Sage Tatum is about to be a household name.”

  “That’s right,” Lincoln adds. “Enjoy the moment, rookie.”

  “Yeah, you’re right,” Sage smiles.

  We played an early game, so it’s still only two-thirty in the afternoon once we’re all showered and back in our regular clothes. No doubt everyone on the team, and the whole damn campus, is going to be letting loose with parties all around town tonight.

  But for the next couple hours, at least, we’ll all have a chance to relax. And after the game we all just played, we need it.

  We get dressed and walk out of the locker room, into the lobby of the stadium.

  “Well, you guys gave me an easy game to write about.” It’s Heidi.

  “Especially this young bull here,” Chase tussles Sage’s hair, still trying to get him out of his funk and into the mood he deserves to be in after a performance like he just had.

  “Think you’ll have enough to write about this week, or do we need to schedule another cooking expose for next week?”

  Lincoln balks. “Please say you have enough already, Heidi.”

  Heidi laughs, revealing a stunning set of pearly white straight teeth, contrasting brilliantly with her vibrant and warm complexion. Fuck, she’s cute. Even though we’re just friends, that’s a fact that it would be impossible for any guy with a pulse – or a functioning cock – to ever fail to notice.

  And I sure as hell have a function cock; in fact, it’s reminding me right now of how well functioning it is as it stiffens in my pants. Something that still happens too often for comfort when I’m close to Heidi. Simply her presence is so physically intense sometimes, especially when I’m flowing with adrenaline and testosterone like I am right now.

  Maybe tonight would be a good night to break my dry spell? No doubt that there will be hundreds – thousands – of women on campus dying to throw themselves at my feet, or on top of my bed, later tonight. Since Heidi’s made it abundantly clear that she wants to be just friends, it’s not like I’d be doing anything wrong if I did.

  But as soon as that thought enters my mind, my cock deflates. I haven’t felt any desire for a woman other than Heidi since the stray pass that sailed through Archer’s fingers brought us back together again, the day before this semester started.

  "Oh my goodness, that can’t be Heidi Locke!”

  I turn and see my mom walking towards us with Coach Riker. A knot forms in my stomach to see them together again. Did they just happen to meet up while walking to see me? Or were they hanging out for a while now after the game ended?

  The idea of them … shit, I don’t even want to say it.

  And why the hell not? Coach Riker is a great guy. But he’s my Coach. The idea of my mom and him being … together … it just makes me feel uncomfortable, in the pit of my stomach. Even though I know it shouldn’t. I just don’t want the different compartments of my life to blend together like that.

  Plus, if they didn’t work out, if something went bad between them … it would ruin my relationship with Coach Riker forever. Because I’ll always take my mom’s side, no matter what. I’d despise any man who hurt her. And I sure as hell don’t want to despise Coach Riker. He’s done so much for me.

  Fuck, can’t at least one thing just stay simple?

  But, shit, I’m still happy to se
e my mom, especially after our big homecoming win. I make an effort to push all the negativity out of my head and focus on the positive.

  “Oh my gosh, Miss Tanner! Hi!”

  My mom and Heidi loved each other. Even back then, my mom would tease me about hurrying up and making Heidi her daughter-in-law officially.

  Heidi’s parents and me, on the other hand, well … that was a different story.

  Heidi turns to hug my mom, and here’s a wide smile of happiness on my mom’s face that melts my heart. “I can’t believe it. You go to Winthrop?”

  “Yep,” Heidi answers, smiling.

  “I shouldn’t be surprised! You were so smart. Unlike my son over here, you could actually bother studying for a class now and then.”

  “Hey, it’s not my fault I could pass without any effort,” I protest.

  My mom rolls her eyes. “You could pass with C’s, maybe an occasional B, without effort. I’m talking about getting A’s, like you should have.”

  Heidi giggles.

  “I made it here anyway, didn’t I?”

  My mom sighs. “I suppose so. You sure did. Anyway, Heidi! I can’t believe it! Luke, why didn’t you tell me Heidi was at Winthrop?”

  “I didn’t know until the beginning of this semester, myself,” I answer.

  “My goodness, it’s amazing how things turn out some times, isn’t it? Heidi, what have you been up to? Are you still getting straight As’?” My mom dismissively waves her hand in the air after that question leaves her mouth. “I shouldn’t even have to ask, of course you are! There’s so much to catch up on. Heidi, Luke, Kurt and I were going to get lunch. You should join us! Then we can all catch up.”

  Kurt, huh? First name basis? I gulp and notice my mouth pursing a bit too tight.

  A slightly embarrassed look passes across Coach Riker’s face for just a moment, before he reassumes his normal, commanding disposition. “Yes, that sounds great. We were going to go to Maverick’s Diner downtown. Shall we?”

  Heidi looks excited to catch up with my mom, so it’s an easy yes. My stomach is growling, so a nice bite to eat at Mavericks does sound pretty appealing.

  Even though, in the back of my mind, this does feel a lot like … oh, God, give me the strength to even think the words … a double date.

  A double date, with my mom and my coach on one side, and myself and my high school ex-girlfriend who’s put me in the friendzone – for the time being – on the other side.

  We say goodbye to the rest of the guys and start walking down to the diner, which is about five blocks away. My mom and Coach Riker – oh, wait, Kurt Riker -- are walking ahead of us, still deeply drawn into whatever conversation they’re having together.

  Fuck, why am I being so cynical about this? Why should it bother me that my mom has some happiness in her life? Or if Coach Riker does? God knows they both deserve it. Hell, they both deserve to be happy more than any other two people I’ve ever known.

  But do these two sides of my life really have to merge together like this? In the most personal way possible? I can just imagine the shit the guys on the team would give me over this. Not just my friends. Yeah, the guys would give me shit about it non-stop. They’d basically invent never-before-heard double-entendres night and day.

  As annoying as that would be, I know it would be good natured. But the other guys. The Alpha Kappa guys. Carson, Bryce, and all the others. They already think that Coach shows favoritism toward me. Their resentment would be on a whole different level if they found out that Coach Riker and my mother were dating. It might just be bad enough to jeopardize my ability to truly lead the team.

  And without the ability to lead the team, a Quarterback is nothing.

  The whole thing would be, if not a scandal, a tabloid bonanza. And where would Heidi fit in to all of that? As the head writer covering the Wolves in the student newspaper, she would have to write about it.

  “Luke, I think I’m pregnant,” I hear Heidi say next to me.

  I stop dead in my tracks, and it feels like the Earth is about to swallow me up.

  “What?” I say, meekly, my mouth as dry as the Sahara Desert.

  Heidi’s lips purse for a moment before she loses her composure and bursts forth in a convulsion of laughter. “Sorry, but I’ve been trying to get your attention for the last two blocks. I’d call your name, I’d ask you a question – nothing, you’d just keep marching silently.”

  “So you’re … not?”

  A round of laughter escapes Heidi’s lips again. “No! Of course not. I’m glad I was finally able to get your attention, though! Jeez, what was going through that head of yours?”

  Damn, I guess I really was wrapped deep in my thoughts.

  “You really had to go for shock and awe like that, huh?” I say to Heidi as I resume my walk toward the diner. I rub the back of my neck, trying to work out some tension.

  “I didn’t think it would give you a heart attack! What’s preoccupying you so much?”

  “You don’t think that, you know, my mom and Coach Riker seemed, I don’t know, a little close?”

  I look up to where they’re about a full block ahead of us now. My mom’s covering her face, laughing at something Coach just said.

  “Wait, you mean, like …" Heidi’s face lights up. “Oh my God! They’re so cute together! You think they’re dating!?”

  “I don’t know,” I groan.

  “What, it bothers you?”

  “I don’t know,” I groan – again.

  We finally arrive at the diner and get seated at a booth. My mom and Coach Riker on one side, me and Heidi on the other side. The owner lit up when we walked through the door, and immediately declared that our meal would be free, even over Coach Riker’s protests. Our waitress tells us how much her grandson loves the Wolves when she introduces herself.

  “Well, I’m sure we can set you guys up with some complimentary tickets,” Coach Riker says. The waitress – Jeanette – replies that her grandson will be overjoyed, and then takes our order.

  “So, Heidi, what are you studying?” My mom asks, cheerful as can be, after the waitress leaves us.

  “Journalism. Actually, I’m covering the Wolves this season for the student paper.”

  “Wow! That’s so great. Is that how you two met each other again?”

  “Not quite,” Heidi chuckles.

  “Actually, we have Archer’s butter fingers to thank for that.”

  “What do you mean?” My mom asks, a quizzical look on her face.

  “I was throwing the ball around with Archer on the Saturday before classes started. He missed one of my passes and it hit Heidi, instead.”

  “Oh my gosh!” My mom reacts. “Are you okay?”

  “Okay now,” Heidi laughs. “It knocked me off my feet. The first thing I saw when I stopped seeing stars was Luke. Naturally, I thought I was hallucinating.”

  Coach Riker clicks his tongue in disapproval. “I told that boy Archer Brighton that he needs to work on his catching more.”

  “That’s so funny! So, you two are … dating again?” My mom asks with an excited half-smile and a sly sparkle in her eyes. It’s clear as the ocean water in a commercial for a Bahamas resort that she wants the answer to that question to be yes.

  “No,” Heidi and I both answer at once, quickly enough to elicit a raise of my mom’s right eyebrow, redolent of suspicion.

  “Just friends,” Heidi follows up.

  “That’s too bad,” my mom sighs, her head still a bit cocked to the side, her face still telling us that she’s not totally buying it.

  “Neither of us really has time for a relationship, you know?” I say.

  Coach Riker nods his head. “That’s good. I always tell my boys, don’t start a new relationship, or end an existing one while the season is going.”

  Huh, wonder whether he’s holding himself to that standard this season …

  CHAPTER TWENTY: HEIDI

  The Wolves have continued their winning season, earning solid
victories over the next two teams after their razor-close triumph against Florida State. They’re now one of the handful of 6-0 teams in college football, which is drawing even more eyeballs onto them, and onto Luke in particular, than ever before.

  The paper is still selling briskly, better than ever. Even though the team drama has died down compared to last season – mainly because it’s easy for a team to get along when they’re only winning and winning week after week – the unprecedented success had also elicited unprecedented interest from the student body. The university is even beginning to consider constructing a new football stadium, since demand for tickets is through the roof.

  I’m in the office of the student paper late this evening, putting the finishing touches on my article for Thursday’s edition. It’s a profile on Bryce Cooper. The guy is a real asshole, but he’s one of the top players, and as one of the team members who was a Wolf even before Coach Riker’s tenure, one of the better-known figures on the team.

  Just as I reread my article one last time and, satisfied with my work, close the lid of my laptop, I hear Dr. Gasten from across the hall, “Oh, Heidi, I’m glad you’re still here. Could you come to my office?”

  Once in Dr. Gasten’s office, he motions for me to sit down. He also takes a seat behind his desk, and his face assumes a serious, troubled expression that causes me to sit up straighter in suspicion. Could he be no longer satisfied with my writing?

  “Heidi, unfortunately, I have something unpleasant to discuss …" he begins, causing the fine hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end.

  Am I getting taken off the Wolves assignment? There’s nothing worse than being removed from a major assignment – it's worse than having never gotten it in the first place.

  “Yes, Dr. Gasten?” I answer with hesitation in my voice, eager for him to reveal what this is all about.

  He leans back in his chair and expels a sigh, folding his hands over his chest. He seems to be searching carefully for the right words. “There have been certain … questions, about the propriety of your relationship with Luke Tanner.”