Every woman that saw his picture wanted him, but not Jenna, of course. She'd watched him like a hawk throughout the game — and his whole career — but she assured herself that her acute interest was purely due to her love of the game and a small concern for what looked like a subtle issue with his throwing arm.
Yet, with each moment he stared at her, her blood warmed and her ability to ignore the focused gaze of his warm brown eyes became increasingly difficult.
"What do you say, guys?"
"Huh?" Jenna muttered inelegantly. She was completely oblivious to anything in the room but the arrogant grin on Wyatt's face. She couldn't believe her own error. Aubrey had already pounced on the opportunity to torment her.
"It's time for the tour," Aubrey said brightly. "I was thinking maybe we should split up. Mr. McCoy, our friend Jenna here doesn't know much about football, could you possibly..."
"Take her on a private tour for more focused instruction?" he asked, with that same damned leering expression.
"No, that's not necessary," Jenna responded curtly.
"I insist. It would be my pleasure. Though I didn't catch your name," Wyatt inquired.
"Jenna, her name's Jenna," Tea blurted out, knocking her forward with her shoulder. "And you two should definitely split off, what a great idea," Tea crooned with a devilish grin.
"Tea, jeez," Jenna whispered, scowling at her. She should've known that Tea would get in on Aubrey's fun. They all loved messing with each other. Jenna just preferred to be on the giving end of it. "Sorry for the hold up, guys, we just need to chat for a bit," Jenna said, dragging Tea and Aubrey out of earshot of the group of confused men.
"You two have got to be kidding me," Jenna whispered with irritation.
"What?" Tea whispered back innocently and then twisted her face into a scheming sneer. "Are you the only person that can pester her friends into talking to guys?"
Jenna turned to Tea and gave her a full scowl, "Seriously...jerky high-profile athletes? You know the answer to that," Jenna answered back. "I'll just go on the tour with the rest of you guys."
"Now, Jenna, you wouldn't want to look rude after members of such an important part of your growing career have been so gracious to us, would you?" Aubrey teased.
"Dammit, Aubrey," Jenna fumed.
"You know I'm right. Now stop being such a pain in the ass and let that hot guy show you around before you offend him or anyone else here," Aubrey responded calmly.
"Fine," she huffed, turning to face Wyatt. "All right, Mr. McCoy, let's go," Jenna said, walking toward him with her toughest facial expression. It just seemed to make him more amused.
"Please call me Wyatt. How about we start with the locker room, that seems as good a place as any to begin your education," Wyatt drawled at her.
Of all the days to have to deal with a cocky self-impressed jackass... This guy can't be for real, Jenna thought to herself in frustration. It's official, I will be killing Aubrey and Tea later. But I'm stuck with him now, so my double homicide plans will have to wait.
Jenna took a steadying breath. She then steeled her nerves and schooled her face into its most confident expression before responding, "Sounds good, Mr. McCoy."
"Oh, come on, now. Don't be so formal. Don't you like me, sugar?"
"I just met you, I have no opinion of you," she answered stiffly, immediately bristling at his ridiculous name for her.
"I don't think you're being honest. I'd say you definitely have an opinion of me, and it doesn't seem good," he responded, leading her into the expansive room lined with cherrywood lockers, benches, and various forms of equipment. Jenna had been in countless locker rooms during her life — including this one — but the nearness of Wyatt McCoy made it feel surreal and claustrophobic.
It was a dream set-up for an athlete like herself, but all she could focus on was the singeing heat coursing through her from merely his fingertips on her lower back.
She turned to him to break the connection, but that only served to plant her back against a locker and her face smack dab in front of his well-built chest.
She was suddenly overcome by a terrible sense of déjà vu — the sensation that she'd been in this place before. Yet then it had all ended so very badly. Her prior sense of light irritation and intrigue from the current situation was quickly morphing into an overwhelming sense of almost frantic nerves.
Jenna looked up into his eyes and immediately regretted it. Having spent so many years avoiding any romantic involvements with athletes, her instant attraction to this one was vexing to say the least. It felt like her emotions were changing more rapidly than she could process them.
Wyatt stared down at her and smiled. "Now that I have your attention, maybe we can get to know each other better, you can give me a chance to improve that low opinion you have of me. Did you like the game?"
Jenna was relieved that the conversation had turned to her favorite topic, and she immediately felt control and calm return to her.
"It was a tough loss and you seemed to be having a rough go of it."
"Ouch, that hurts."
"You keep telegraphing your throws like that and you're going to spend the rest of the season on your ass — trust me, that will hurt a lot more. You need to shorten your release," Jenna advised him.
"Um, I'm not sure I heard you right. What was that again?"
"Just critiquing your throwing style is all," she answered.
"So, you were watching me closely?"
"It's an occupational hazard."
He looked confused for a moment but quickly regained his cocky composure. Meanwhile, Jenna kept feeling hers slipping away.
With each unsteady breath she noticed another aspect of him that was intoxicating to her, whether it was the slight golden streaks in his chestnut hair, the matching hint of stubble on his strong jaw, or his broad shoulders — everywhere she rested her eyes on him only served to make her body more consumed with attraction and her brain more furious with that fact.
"For the record, I've never heard any complaints about my release," he said, with a wink, and Jenna rolled her eyes in disgust, which only made him chuckle in amusement. "Though I thought you weren't supposed to know about football, sugar?"
"No. My ex-best friends were playing a joke. Now that you know the truth, I'll be moving along, let you get back to your life."
"But I'm having so much fun pretending to educate you. Maybe I can teach you Spanish."
"I already speak Spanish, so you've got nothing to teach me."
"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure of that. How about I teach you to relax?" he whispered in her ear — sending a shot of warmth coursing through her traitorous body.
"I'm plenty relaxed," she huffed. He smirked again, running a finger across her shoulder until she jumped.
"Relaxed, really? Hmm," he added with a cocky drawl and a slow perusal of her body that had her stomach tightening, even as her jaw clenched in irritation.
Wyatt leaned into her until she could smell his freshly-washed hair and count the beads of water on the part of his skin bared by the undone buttons at the top of his crisp Italian shirt. He was insanely attractive and far too close for Jenna's comfort. She cringed a little at her own big mouth, wishing she'd left this bad boy well enough alone. The worst thing you can do with someone like Wyatt is to engage him, and she'd done worse, she'd challenged him.
Dammit, Jenna, rookie mistake! she thought, chastising herself.
Jenna shook herself out of her hormonal stupor and stood up straight enough that he backed off a bit, "I have to ask — does this usually work?"
"What do you mean, sugar?"
"I mean this ego the size of Texas routine of yours. Calling me 'sugar' and the double entendres. I mean, come on. You want my opinion of you? Here it is. I find your little shtick — and you — exhausting and insulting. Please excuse me. I need to get back to my friends."
"I was under the impression my 'little shtick' was working," he teased, raising a hand and placing it al
ongside her head.
"Please. Working? Hardly," Jenna said, rolling her eyes again theatrically and ignoring the tightening in her belly and her powerful desire to bury her face in his chest and just sniff him for a while.
Pull yourself together, Jenna! she ordered to herself.
"Come on, play nice," Wyatt said, with a devious half-smile, looking down at her smugly. "I mean it, you need to relax."
These simple words shook her to the core. The feel of the locker behind her and his proximity, were all too painfully familiar. Her sense of panic returned.
"Let me go. I need to go," she demanded.
"Is something wrong, sugar?"
"My name is not sugar, you jerk!" Jenna shouted, and his laugh in response had her face red in anger and humiliation.
Right at that moment, the rest of her group walked in and Jenna felt sheer mortification at her position — pressed up against Wyatt McCoy of all people, in front of a locker — practically in her place of business — screaming at him.
Everyone looked at Jenna in shock and concern at her outburst, though Aubrey merely looked thrilled at Jenna's current predicament.
"Don't worry, folks, we're fine in here. I'll bring your friend to you soon."
"No, that won't be necessary, I can go now," Jenna said, as calmly as she could muster. She smoothed down her shirt in an effort to regain control of herself. She was about to speak when she heard, "Hey, Doc!"
Jenna looked up quickly, averting her eyes from her nosey companions and saw the kind face of one of her patients.
"Hi, Eloni!" Jenna threw Wyatt a sharp look, but he wouldn't move. He still had his hand placed on the wall next to her head and the fiery effect he had on both her emotions and her sex drive, were quickly replaced with plain raw irritation.
That's more like it, she thought. Best to remember why you stay away from these types of guys in the first place.
She began to dart under his arm, but he only lowered it more.
"Doctor?" Wyatt asked, with a cocked eyebrow.
"Yes, Mr. McCoy, they let us little ladies be doctors now. What a world! Now, if you would please move your arm."
"Hey, Wyatt, how ya doin', man? How do you know Doctor S.?" Eloni asked, with his usual gentle giant charm. He was an offensive lineman from Samoa out of the University of Hawaii, and one of the first NFL players to give her a chance.
"Fine, Eloni," Wyatt gritted out. "I was giving her a tour."
"Oh, yeah? What brings you here, Doctor S.? Visiting a patient?"
"No, I came with some friends." Jenna breathed more easily as she turned her attention away from the incredibly unsettling quarterback. "Griffen over there is buds with your Assistant GM," she answered, jerking a thumb over to her group of friends that were now listening to a speech about on-field safety. "How's the knee, Eloni?" She could feel Wyatt's eyes boring into the side of her face, but she refused to look in his direction.
"My knee feels like a million bucks. You're a miracle worker, Doctor S."
"It's all due to you and your hard work. Maybe they'll start naming the surgery after you, you keep playing so well..."
"Hey, Eloni, I think Coach is looking for you," Wyatt's voice boomed as he turned to his teammate. His nearness still overwhelmed Jenna, and she started to make her escape.
"Well, Eloni, it was good to see you. I'm heading off, too," Jenna said, and started walking toward her friends.
"Hey, where are you going?" Wyatt asked, walking alongside of her. "I wasn't done."
"I was."
"Oh, come on. What are you doing tonight?"
"I have plans," she answered, nearing Tea and Aubrey, finally.
"No, she doesn't," Aubrey blurted out.
"See, looks like you're all cleared to let me keep changing that opinion of yours about me. I won't even call you sugar, Doc."
"No need," Jenna answered, throwing Aubrey a sharp look before shouting, "Hey, Johnny, get over here." Johnny looked at Griffen and when he nodded, Johnny ran over to her.
"Hey, Johnny, Wyatt here said he'd love to watch you throw."
"Awesome! Let's do it," Johnny said enthusiastically.
"That's great, man, I appreciate it, too. Tom would that be okay?" Griffen asked his friend as he walked over.
"Of course. Come on, Wyatt, let's do it on the field. You guys can come take pictures if you like," Tom added.
"Y'all have fun. I think I learned enough for one day," Jenna said, as she stared in triumph at Wyatt.
He looked back at her with a challenge in his eyes and leaned down to whisper in her ear, "Have a nice night, but know that this ain't over, Doc."
A shiver ran down Jenna's spine as she watched six feet four inches of diabolically gorgeous trouble walk away from her and she struggled to decide whether she wanted to view his words as a threat — or a delicious promise.
Jenna turned and walked away, pulling herself back under control and shaking off the drugging memory of his smell and closeness with each step.
CHAPTER THREE
"Hi Doc. This is Wyatt McCoy…again. I'm not used to being ignored, but I'll let it slide this time. I'm free tonight and am very interested in learning more about what you think about my release. I'll look out for your call."
Wyatt smirked to himself as he imagined the face of the beautiful blonde doctor frowning in frustration at getting his second voicemail.
He ended the call but his mood quickly darkened at the sight of a text on his phone from one of his sister, Claudia's, friends.
Wy – this is Nicole. Claudia had to go to the doctor yesterday. Thought you should know.
His stomach flipped over and he tried not to think the worst.
Claudia was much younger than him, and ever since she was a little baby, he knew he wanted to do everything he could to keep her safe. That hadn't always been easy. It still haunted him to think of the night she became unconscious and collapsed when she was only seven years old.
In the midst of all of Claudia's tests and scary nights, their beloved grandfather had to go in for surgery on his heart…and he never came out of it. They'd been living with his mother's parents for a while by then. Ever since she'd finally given up on his dad after so many years of letting him have "just one more chance."
His father had managed to destroy his off field life in a very spectacular way. Yet, he'd kept most of those personal failings a secret from the public. Wyatt had been fourteen the night Jim McCoy tried to come back into their lives. His father was disgusted with Claudia's illness, calling her weak, and worthless. He had watched his father break his mother's heart enough over the years. He wasn't going to let him do that to Claudia, too.
That was the night Wyatt made a deal with devil. If Jim McCoy promised not to fight a divorce and stay away from them forever, then Wyatt would ensure they didn't tarnish his legacy by letting the world know what scum he really was.
Jim McCoy jumped at the chance without hesitation. All that mattered to him was that he would forever be a legend — one of the best quarterbacks of all time. To the wife and kids he'd left behind in Texas, he was just a selfish idiot. The man more interested in partying all night with nameless women than making sure his flesh and blood were safe.
Claudia could've really used a father, or a grandfather, when the diagnosis of juvenile diabetes came back. Instead, Wyatt became the man of the family the night his grandfather died. That meant that Claudia, his mother, and his abuela only had him, and Wyatt took that role very seriously. He swore to himself he would always be there for them. They needed him, and unlike some other McCoy men, that meant something to him.
Wyatt cursed as his throat tightened around the memories. Making his way to his car, he dialed his sister's number.
He breathed out slowly at hearing her voice answer on the other end of the line. It was freezing, but his temper was running hot enough to keep him warm in a blizzard.
"Hi, Wyatt," she answered breezily, as if she hadn't a care in the world.
; "Claudia? Nicole texted me about you. What happened? What are you eating? Have you checked your blood sugar today?"
"Well, hello to you, too, Wy. How are you, sis? What's up? Oh, not much, sweet brother of mine, just studying. Good for you, sis, great talk," she responded, doing her best impression of Wyatt's voice for his parts in her play-acted conversation.
"Stop being a smart-ass, Claudia."
"Hmm, that's going to be hard, being that 'smart-ass' is my native tongue," Claudia answered quickly.
"Then stop changing the subject, at least," he said, trying not to smile, but damned if she hadn't been able to lighten his mood ever since she was a tiny baby in his young arms. "Give me a break here, okay? You know this is the busiest part of the season for me, so I can't look after you as well as I’d like right now."
Wyatt winced as he threw his bag from his shoulder into the backseat, right before his stomach knotted at his own frustrated denial of the pain.
"You don't have to look after me, Wy, I'm a grown woman."
"You're twenty-two — that means you're still just a baby and you keep refusing to pay attention to your health…"
"Fine, jeez, lay off already, Wy. It's nothing, really. Nicole has a crush on you and knows you'll only answer her texts if she gets you all worked up about me."
"Come on, Claudia, why'd you go to the doctor?"
"Fucking Nicole. I told her specifically not to tell you that," Claudia cursed under her breath.
"You'd better not be hiding shit like this from me. Damn straight, Nicole was right to tell me." His voice was almost reaching shouting level, echoing in the car around him.
"Chill out, Wyatt, seriously. Fine, I had a big project to finish for my computer engineering major and I just pushed myself a little too hard and got hypoglycemic."
"What about your insulin pump? Isn't it working?"
"It's working. They looked at it while I was with the doc. I'm fine, I just got a little light-headed in front of Nicole and it scared her."
City of Champions Page 5
