Personal Foul

by Hayley Faiman

My street is quiet and I’m thankful, thinking that maybe the media isn’t going to make a big deal about the information I sent them. That thought makes my brow furrow. They should be tearing shit up, unless something happened; unless they don’t care about it as much as I thought they would. It’s a big fucking deal. They should be swarming like fucking bees.

  After I park my truck, I make my way toward my office, and that’s when shit gets real. There they are, over a dozen reporters standing vigil outside of my office door.

  “You prick,” a voice calls out. I turn to see Patrick walking up behind me.

  He pulls his arm back, his hand balling into a fist, and he throws a punch. Luckily for me, I duck and he almost topples over. Lifting my forearm, I press it against his throat, backing him up against the wall and getting right in his fucking face.

  “Some kid gets hurt, our team or theirs, ruins his fucking career over some stupid ass fucking dope—I don’t want that shit on my back, Pat. You may not have a goddamn conscious, but I do,” I growl in his face.

  He smirks. “Living vicariously through them, Cole?”

  “Fuck off,” I grind out, pressing against him harder.

  He chokes and speaks, though his voice is breathless. “You’ll never play again, Cole. No matter how bad you want it, you can’t have it. You’re a washed-up-has-been. Come to terms with it, and fight to keep your job. I highly doubt you will after this shit,” he states as his eyes slice over to the media a few feet away.

  Shaking my head, I release him and take a step back. “I’m not the one so focused on winning. I’m not the one willing to potentially take out college kids on the field. I made an NFL team, got that paycheck to prove it, too. Sure, it fucking sucks that I’m out of the game for life, but I know I won’t ever play again. My only hope is to train these boys so that they can live out their dreams. I’m not okay with their dreams being shattered playing college ball. That’s you living vicariously through them, Pat. Not me,” I state before turning around and walking away from him.

  I leave him propped against the wall, and I don’t even attempt to glance back at him. Fuck him. He brought all this shit on himself, not me.

  As soon as the reporters realize I am who I am, they surround me as I unlock my office. I don’t say anything, slipping inside before locking the door behind me.

  Shit is going down, and I’m on a sinking ship. I know that when I lie my head on my pillow tonight, that I’ll have peaceful dreams. At the end of the day—I did the right thing.

  JESSA

  LORETTA, CAITLYN AND I spend the day together cooking. Loretta promised to show me how to make a few different dishes, one being a favorite of Cole’s, so today we’re making stuffed pork loins, mashed potatoes, rolls, and green beans. It sounds really complicated to make, but Loretta swears it’s super simple.

  “Mom always made this for us when we were kids. Then when Cole was a teenager, she had to make double of everything. After he’d get back from football practice, he ate an entire family portion of stuffed pork to himself,” Caitlyn announces from her place at the bar.

  She’s drinking a glass of wine while Loretta and I do all of the cooking. It’s nice, so nice that it’s easy for me to ignore the sounds of the reporters outside of the window. They started showing up about three hours after Cole left for work, and they keep coming, their numbers tripling what they were at first.

  Cole’s father has been growly all day, and keeps walking over to the windows to glare at them on the lawn and sidewalk. Loretta has been blissfully ignoring them, and Caitlyn has been drinking. Cole has checked in with me multiple times today to make sure that I’m handling everything all right. It’s not me I’m worried about though—it’s him.

  “Holy shit, get in here girls,” Marshall shouts. “Hurry.”

  “Keep your pants on,” Loretta shouts.

  She slips the pork into the oven and wipes her hands on a dishtowel as she rolls her eyes.

  Caitlyn and I giggle before we follow behind her into the living room. “What is it?” Loretta asks. Marshall stares at the television.

  Loretta gasps, and I turn toward the screen, my mouth dropping as I take in what’s happening. My knees buckle and my ass lands in the cushion of the sofa. “Holy shit,” I breathe.

  “Is that your ex?” Caitlyn asks as she sinks down next to me.

  Nodding, I place my fingers over my open mouth. “Yeah, yeah that’s Trent,” I whisper.

  I watch a police officer guiding him toward a cruiser, his hands in cuffs behind his back. I can’t take my eyes off of Trent, even when they pan out and show five more players being led off in cuffs, along with one of the coaches, and one of the heads of the athletic department.

  The camera then swings to Cole, who is watching, his face stricken as he witnesses some of his best players effectively ruining their careers and futures. The female reporter starts to speak while the camera is still focused on Cole’s handsome face.

  “Coach Cole Bronson, stand-up man, ex-NFL player, caring coach, whistleblower, and may I say—handsome and single, ladies. I don’t think this will be the last we see of Mr. Bronson, or at least I hope not,” she winks as though this is all fun and games.

  “What a bitch,” Loretta grinds out.

  It surprises me, and I can’t help myself. I burst out in laughter. I’m giggling when the front door opens and closes. Cole stands there, looking at us and looking stricken all at the same time.

  His eyes take me in and he nods. I stand and hurry toward him, wrapping my arms around his waist and burying my face in his chest. “Jessa, I need to talk to you,” he murmurs.

  “I just watched Trent being led away in handcuffs,” I whisper as I tip my head back and look into his sad green eyes.

  Those green eyes roam around my face, taking me in, and then he nods. “You’re okay,” he murmurs.

  “Yeah, you’re here. I’m good,” I grin and watch his lips twitch. “Also, your mom taught me how to make stuffed pork loins, so that’s what we’re having for dinner,” I add.

  Cole’s face lights up, his smile widens, and his eyes brighten. “Fuck, yeah,” he grunts before he tips his head down and presses his lips to mine.

  Once he’s kissed me, he lets me go, and I decide to grab him a beer from the fridge, along with one for his father. He thanks me by wrapping his hand around the back of my thigh and giving me a squeeze before he starts to tell us exactly what happened.

  I gasp when he tells us that the media was waiting for him outside of his office this morning, but that isn’t what has me in shock. No, the police were there as well, and they raided the lockers. What they found was a lot of drugs, performance enhancing drugs. Where they found them was exactly where Cole thought they would.

  Russ’ locker had the most, since he was dealing, and he’ll go down for that harder than the others. Trent had a good amount in his locker, but so did Keith and a few others. All of them played on the starting lineup, and all of them will probably never play again.

  They all had enough to be considered intent to sell. When Cole explains everything to us, I can tell that he’s sad; not only because these boys ruined their careers and lives, but also because of how it all went down.

  Then he tells us how the police also had warrants for Patrick’s home, and the frat house where most of the players lived. The web is even more twisted, because they also found a stock of steroids at Patrick’s home, which looked like he was their supplier.

  “What happens now?” Caitlyn asks, standing up from the sofa. “With you?”

  Cole shakes his head as we all make our way toward the dinner table. I hurry to get the food, afraid to miss even a second of his story. Once I set the dish down, he wastes not a second before he piles three pieces of pork on his plate, along with a huge mountain of mashed potatoes. I can’t help my giggle at the portion he has doled out to himself.

  “Told you,” Caitlyn whispers with a wink.

  Once we all have food and drinks, Cole continues w
ith answering questions. “I don’t know what’s going to happen to me. Could be nothing, could be the school decides I’m a liability, could be they fire the entire coaching staff so it doesn’t look like they’re targeting John and me. I don’t know,” he states as he puts a big mouthful of potatoes on his fork.

  Chewing a few times, he turns to me, his eyes wide and bright. “Fuck me, baby. This is awesome,” he whispers.

  I dip my chin as my lips twitch. His hand wraps around my thigh and gives me a squeeze. Then we turn back to his family. While I have a million more questions, as I’m sure they do too, we don’t ask them.

  The answers will come in time, and we’ll figure out the next best steps to take. For now, we simply eat as a family. We joke and laugh, and when the evening is finished, the drama of the day melts away.

  “Meant what I said this morning, Jessa,” Cole rumbles as he closes the bedroom door behind him.

  I whirl around, tired from playing canasta with his mom and sister all night, but feeling a sudden burst of energy at the look Cole is directing toward me. Wrapping my hands in the hem of my shirt, I pull it off.

  I continue to undress until I’m completely naked. Only then do I sink to my knees in front of my man. Cole undresses as well, his eyes darkening just a touch as he steps up toward me. I wrap my hands around his cock and give him a gentle squeeze.

  “Open, Jessa,” he growls.

  I do as he demands and open my mouth. My eyes looking up to his, I wait. Cole’s hand cups my cheek before it slides my hair at the side of my face around to the back. His fingers tighten as he slowly sinks down my throat. I let him in, relaxing my throat and my jaw as he sinks further and further down. His eyes never leave mine.

  He thrusts forward at the same time he pulls me closer to him, repeating the motion over and over. I practice breathing through my nose, and forcing myself to relax until I no longer have to think about it. Then it’s only him, and me, me and him. His cock buried down my throat over and over again. His panting breaths filing the air around us, along with his grunts of pleasure.

  Then his cock swells and he fills me with his cum without warning. His gaze never leaves mine. I don’t attempt to pull away, taking every ounce of his release. I then wait until he’s completely finished, his cock twitching as he slowly glides in and out of my mouth.

  “Sweet baby,” he rasps as he pulls out of me and stumbles back a few steps. I reach out and grab ahold of his hip as I pull myself up and off of the floor.

  I wrap my hands around his shoulders and bury my face in his neck, inhaling his spicy scent. When his hands wrap around my ass, he picks me up, and I squeal softly, trying not to be too loud.

  “You know as grateful as I am that my parents are here during all of this shit, I really wish we were alone,” he murmurs as he lays us down on the bed, situating us so that I’m plastered against half of his body.

  Trailing my fingers around his chest, making little patterns through the soft smattering of hair there, I sigh. “Agreed,” I murmur before turning my head to press my lips to his flat nipple.

  “I hope it doesn’t last too long. Whatever the school decides, I hope they rip it off like a goddamn band-aid,” he grunts.

  “Me too,” I whisper.

  His fingers make swirling patterns on my ass, and I melt a little more into him, relaxing against his strong body, letting him absorb me. “You want me to make you come?” he asks. I tip my head back with a giggle.

  “I’m not sure that answer could be no even if I tried,” I whisper. “But if you’re too tired from the day, you can make it up to me tomorrow.”

  His chin dips down and he grins. “Sweet baby,” he grunts. “Climb up on my face, ride it until you come, then I’ll fuck you.”

  My eyes widen. I’ve never done that before, and I tell him as much. “Then, Jessa, you’ve been missing out. Get your sweet cunt up here,” he chuckles as his hand lands on my ass with a smack.

  I climb up his body and hesitantly lower down on his face. Without skipping a beat, his hands wrap around my hips and he pulls me down against him. I gasp in surprise, but all of that disappears when I feel his tongue against my clit, then inside of me, then back to my clit.

  It doesn’t take me long to lose all inhibitions and I do as he asked. I ride his face until I come, then I crawl down his body and ride his cock until we both come.

  COLE

  LEAVING JESSA ALONE and in bed, naked, and fully sated is not an easy thing to do—but I have a meeting today. I have to meet not only with the remaining athletic department, but also the Board of Regents. I’ve also been being hounded by the media for an interview, as has John. We both decided to hold off saying anything until the school talks to us.

  “Do you think we need an attorney?” John asks as we walk toward the administration building.

  I close my eyes. “I don’t know, probably. Let’s hear them out and then we’ll decide from there,” I suggest.

  “I had those fucking reporters at my house all night long, and then again this morning,” he mumbles.

  Lifting my chin, I tell him that I had the same problem. We stand right outside of the admin building and look up. Neither of us makes a move to walk inside. Then again, we don’t know what’s looming on the other side, either.

  Patrick is in jail, along with ten other people who are wrapped up in this shit. University of Oregon has cancelled the game, and won’t play until they feel comfortable. I don’t blame them.

  The amount of revenue that this scandal has cost the school is probably unfathomable. I find myself wondering if I did the right thing. I shouldn’t second guess myself, not in this, not when I know it’s the right thing to do; but I do wonder if I went about it the right way.

  “Let’s get this over with,” John grunts. I nod but don’t look anywhere but straight ahead. Together, we walk inside of the administrative building.

  “WELL, THAT DIDN’T go as I had seen it going,” John says as we walk out from our meeting.

  To be honest, it didn’t go as I’d anticipated, either. Then again, I had no idea what to expect. Being offered the head coach position with John as my assistant was not what I had prepared for. I should be jumping for joy or, at the very least, celebrating. But I’m not.

  The board looked scared. They looked like their hands were tied behind their backs, like this wasn’t something they really wanted to offer. However, I had been given the media spotlight, and they would look really fucking bad if they fired me, so instead they offered a promotion. That shit does not sit well with me. I wanted a promotion that I earned myself, and this I did not earn.

  John and I arrive at my office, fight the sea of reporters, and then lock ourselves inside while we take a breath. “You don’t look happy,” he points out.

  “I’m not,” I state.

  “Cole,” he murmurs. “This is fucking major. They handed you the head coach position. You’re not even forty years old.”

  Turning around, I place my hands on my hips and look at the ground before I meet his eyes. “Yeah, they handed it to me, you’re right. I didn’t earn it. Not a single fucking part of it.”

  “Who the fuck cares? Prove to them that you’re the right man for the job. Be so fucking great that they can’t deny they did the right thing by placing you there.”

  Turning away from him, I shake my head. He doesn’t understand. He has no fucking clue. Everything I’ve done in life I’ve worked my ass off for—football especially. I earned every single accomplishment. Not only did I earn them, I was proud of them. I can’t be proud of this.

  “I’m heading home to Jessa,” I announce as I grab my keys and close down my computer.

  “Don’t be a fucking pussy,” he growls.

  I sink my teeth into my bottom lip, looking at my friend, a man I call my best friend, and then I wonder if I really know him at all, or if he knows me? He of all people should understand where I’m coming from and the kind of man that I am.

  “It’s not about
me being a pussy or not, John. It’s about standing up for what’s right. In the same vein, I don’t take fucking handouts,” I state.

  I step out of my office and wait for him to follow. He does, and then I lock my door before I trudge through the crowd of bees. I hope that they get tired of me ignoring them and they just fucking go away, which I know is probably unlikely.

  Climbing in my truck, my phone rings. It’s Jessa, and my heart races. She never calls me, ever. She’ll text me, but she doesn’t call me. All I can think about is that there is some kind of emergency.

  “Jessa,” I bark out, my heart hammering inside of my chest.

  “Cole, Trent just called me from jail. His parents are in town, and they all want to have a meeting. I just, I don’t know what to do,” she whispers, sounding terrified.

  “I’ll be there in five minutes. You’re at the house?”

  “Yes,” she breathes.

  I rush home to her, our home. I have zero desire for her to see Trent, but maybe she needs the closure—with his parents, if not him. The way we left things with them was rocky, especially his mother. I don’t want Jessa to have any lingering regrets or worries about the Keller family. Maybe one last talk with them is what she needs.

  Fuck if I know.

  If it was up to me, I’d lock her away so nobody and nothing could ever hurt her again. I think she’s been through enough in her short eighteen years.

  JESSA

  STANDING OUTSIDE OF the coffee shop, I smooth down my skirt as Cole’s hand presses against my lower back. He hasn’t said anything since we left the house this morning. I don’t know that there is anything to say, really.

  It took me about two seconds to decide that I had no desire to see Trent, but I did want to meet with his parents. The last time I saw them, emotions were out of this world high. Though they’re probably high right now as well, it’s different.

  Cole’s lips skim my temple as he gently applies pressure to my back, and we walk into the little café. Margie and Jim are sitting at a table in the back, and their heads lift as soon as the bell rings over the door. Jim smiles sadly and Margie’s eyes narrow slightly as they move to Cole.