First and Ten: A Contemporary Reverse Harem (A Team of Her Own Book 1)

by Erin Hayes

  I nodded. That meshed with what I had been thinking, too. “So what do I do?”

  Ashley pressed her lips together and tapped them for a few seconds. “I think your first step is to get rid of the asshole coach.”

  “Who would I replace him with? I don’t know anything at all about football coaches. And doesn’t he have a contract or something?”

  “Let’s get your lawyer to take a look at that contract. Maybe he can find a way to get you out. After all, you just inherited the team—you didn’t write the contract. Or sign it, for that matter. It’s nothing you ever agreed to.”

  “What if I can’t get out of it? What do I do about finding a new coach for the team?”

  “How about asking your three guys? You might not know football, but they sure do. I guarantee at least one of them has worked with someone who would be a fabulous replacement for Mack—and who might otherwise not get a chance to coach a pro team.”

  I liked that idea. And maybe if I got all three of them together to talk about coaches, it would give them something more to bond over. That would be good for the team, right?

  And of course, it would give me a reason to spend time with them. Not that that had any bearing on my plans.

  None at all.

  “All right. Let’s say we do get these guys joined up into a real team. We get a new coach, maybe they win a couple of games. Then what? I just turn around and sell the team?”

  “I have no idea.” Ash held up her hands as if warding me off. “Then it’s your problem.”

  “I don’t want to hurt them.” My voice dropped. “And more than that, I don’t want to get hurt by them.”

  “Do you want these guys?”

  My whisper was so quiet it was barely audible. “Yeah. I think I do.”

  “Then you should follow your heart.”

  Follow my heart, she said. Of course, that would mean figuring out exactly what the hell I wanted.

  I pondered the possibilities as I pulled up in front of a convenience store close to the hotel. I needed some basic stuff to keep in my hotel room—mostly better coffee creamer and something I could grab to eat for breakfast on my way out every morning.

  Being propositioned by two more football players made me hungry. Knowing I had slept with the football team’s quarterback made me hungry. Hell, everything about the whole situation made me want to stress-eat Cheetos. Or maybe chocolate. The Californian in me, the one who drank kombucha and ate cricket chips, balked at the idea of junk food and what it would do to my waistline.

  I clipped Winston’s leash on him and looped it around the base of a small pole outside the store. It wasn’t ideal, but it was in the shade and kept him out of the heat of the car. “Wait here, bud. I’ll be right back.”

  I cast a longing glance at the candy aisle as I walked in but satisfied myself with a tiny bag of all-natural granola. And a Diet Coke.

  The thought of gaining even another ounce before hooking up with Clancy and Rodney made me shudder a little. And not in a good way.

  My phone dinged twice, and I glanced down at it.

  Messages from both Clancy and Rodney. They must have gotten my number from Kathryn. It was like they were thinking about me at the same time I was thinking of them.

  I clicked into Clancy’s first.

  Madison, I read, I wanted to check in and see how you’re doing. Let me know if you’d like to get together to go over those flashcards. - Clancy

  Oh, shit.

  Clancy Drew really had an interest in unraveling the mystery of me. Too bad for him—there really wasn’t much of a mystery at all. I was as straightforward as a woman could be. At least, as straightforward as any woman who was trying to secretly plot to sell the football team whose players were trying to seduce her could be.

  I clicked over into the message from Rodney. It was pretty much the same story there. Only Rodney was even more suggestive, and he didn’t even have to say it was from him:

  Hey, gorgeous. Having a craving for sauce? And wings, of course.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  Which was, of course, exactly what all three of them seemed to want to do with me. In that order.

  “What on earth would I do with three professional football players?” I muttered to myself as I gathered up the coffee and some granola bars.

  The answer came back to me almost at once: Anything I wanted to.

  I was almost out the door with my purchases when I froze, hit with a sudden, petrifying thought.

  I’ve already decided that I would take Clancy and Rodney up on their offer. If they were truly serious. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  Yep. Triple fuck. That’s what I would totally do. I tugged in a breath to kickstart my heart again and stepped out of the cool air conditioning into the bright Alabama sunshine.

  Part of me was terrified.

  But, I realized as I unhooked Winston’s leash from the pole, another part of me was absolutely delighted. The corner of my mouth curled up in a happy smile, and I felt my hips take on an unaccustomed sway, almost a strut, as I made my way back out to my rental car. What would I do with two extra football guys?

  Oh, dear lord, what wouldn’t I do?

  I saw an old man leaning on the edge of his pickup, watching me as I swung into the driver’s seat of my car. I smiled at him. Tearing open the top of my package of granola, I poured a couple of crumbs into my mouth. Suddenly, I wasn’t quite as hungry as I’d been.

  This was going to be amazing. I was going to do it. I was going to let Andre seduce me. And then, if Andre really was as okay with it as he was pretending to be, I was going to let Clancy and Rodney seduce me, too.

  But I was going to start with Andre.

  Right now.

  Back in the hotel room I now shared with Ashley—who was checking out a yoga class on the other side of town—I shoved my purchases into a mini fridge and took a swig out of one of the tiny whiskey bottles from the minibar.

  Winston stared up at me mournfully.

  “It’s for courage,” I assured him.

  He didn’t answer. He simply waddled over to the dog bed Ashley had brought him, circled around three times, and flopped down with a huff.

  “I’ll be back, buddy,” I assured him. “I’m not staying out all night. Just long enough to…never mind. You don’t need to know about those things you can’t do anymore.”

  He opened one eye to peer at me balefully, then tucked his nose under his paws

  “Okay.” I smoothed my skirt down. “Wish me luck.”

  Winston didn’t move, not even to glance up as I left the room and shut the door behind me.

  Andre’s room was several floors above mine, according to Kathryn—who, thankfully, hadn’t asked why I wanted to know. She might be the perfect assistant. If I were going to stay, I would promote her. My heart started beating faster when I stepped onto the elevator. I tried to calm myself down by thinking of the worst thing that could possibly happen—because if it didn’t happen, then anything else was fine, right?

  He could slam the door in my face. I wasn’t sure why he might do that, unless, of course, he figured out my plan to sell the team.

  That didn’t seem likely since Ashley was the only person who knew.

  Other than that, the worst that could happen would be what?

  Andre could have changed his mind about wanting to have sex with me.

  That would make me sad.

  But I would still have two other teammates to choose from in that case.

  The thought made me laugh aloud and clap my hands together in delight. Then I remembered elevators often had cameras, and I got serious very quickly. If anyone ever watched those surveillance tapes, I would look like a total idiot. I practiced looking like a football team owner for the rest of the ride up. I probably looked like an idiot then, too, but at least I wasn’t grinning and clapping.

  At his floor, my stomach clenched.

  I can do this.

  I walked up to his door and held my fist up,
ready to knock. At the last minute, it occurred to me that Andre might not answer at all. He might not spend any more time in his hotel room than I usually did in mine.

  I should find out for sure. I rapped on the door three times.

  I was standing there frowning when he opened the door.

  “You okay?” He reached out a hand to pull me into the room and shut the door behind me.

  “I’m okay,” I said truthfully. Although now that I was here, I didn’t know what to say to him.

  He took care of that for me.

  “Why are you here?” he asked.

  “In the hotel?”

  Andre’s full-throated laughter brought out a smile on my face, as well. “Not that. I mean why are you here in my room? I know why you’re staying in the hotel.”

  “Oh. That.” It also occurred to me that I didn’t know how to seduce someone. This was entirely new territory for me. Quickly, I ran through some possible scenarios. I took up time by walking from the entryway into the living area of his suite.

  Nothing I came up with seemed like a good idea. If I’d thought about it beforehand, I could’ve done something sexy and unexpected.

  Like… what? Showing up in a raincoat with nothing underneath it? Wearing some breakaway stripper outfit? Dressing as a cheerleader? Nothing I could think of seemed all that sexy.

  I’d never been into gimmicky sex anyway.

  I guess I’m going to have to go with truth.

  I drew in a deep breath and turned around, prepared to discuss our relationship, only to find that Andre had moved to stand directly behind me while I was thinking.

  My turn brought me up against his chest, and he took advantage of that to wrap his arms around me.

  His kiss was deep and thorough, like the one we had shared in the locker room. And this time, there was no reason to stop this.

  His hands ran down my back, sliding under my ass and again lifting me so my feet left the floor. This time, I went with it, lifting first one leg and sliding it around him, and then the other, until he was holding me up against him, wrapped around him.

  I tugged at the bottom of his shirt with one hand, my other arm firmly encircling his neck as I held on tightly. Slipping my hands under the T-shirt, I slid my fingers up his stomach, dancing them up the muscles I found there. He moaned into my mouth, the sound matching the deepening of the kiss.

  My skirt slid up around my waist and the hard length of his cock brushed against me through his pants and my panties, and I hooked my ankles together at the small of his back to pull us closer together.

  For a few seconds, I thought the loud pounding was the sound of my own heartbeat or maybe my blood rushing through my head.

  But then I realized Andre heard it too.

  “Open up, Williamson!” The deep voice outside the door was commanding.

  “What the hell is Coach Mack doing here?” Andre dropped me to the ground.

  “Oh, I suspect he’s here to stop this from happening.”

  The look Andre shot me was one of disbelief, but I was certain I was right. Mack was here to keep Andre from having sex with me.

  I straightened out my skirt. Andre glanced back at me to make sure I was decent, and I waved at him to go ahead and open the door.

  “Coach,” he started to say as Mack barreled in past him.

  The coach skidded to a stop in front of me, an exaggerated expression of surprise plastered on his face. “Oh, Miss Harte, I’m sorry.” His voice was an equally exaggerated version of his usual accent. “I didn’t realize you’d be here.”

  God. Did that mean he was following me? I really was going to have to get rid of him. Just as soon as he got us through the preseason.

  “Mm-hm.” I didn’t move from where I stood, arms crossed, blocking the entrance from the hall into the suite. “Can we help you with something?”

  “I came to run some plays by my team captain.” He paused. “Oh. I’m sorry. Our team captain.”

  “Andre and I have plans.” I waited for Andre to join me in kicking Mack out, but he didn’t seem to realize what was going on, and I could see his reluctance to buck his coach. I forced a grim smile. “But I guess those plans can wait. Later, Andre?”

  “Of course.”

  I marched past Mack, who shot me a triumphant grin—right up until I stopped and kissed Andre full on the mouth. No way was I going to let that asshole coach ruin my chance with the quarterback—even if he managed to ruin one night.

  All the way back to my room, the sound of my shoes on the floor seemed to beat out a rhythm. One that came with words:

  Fire the prick. Fire the prick. Fire the prick.

  But I forced myself to calm down. I didn’t want to fire him just because he was awful to me—not if he ended up being good for the Yellowhammers. I needed to make sure my team was okay.

  And if they could do fine without him? Then all bets were off.

  Fourteen

  Then again, my team didn’t seem to do all that well with Mack as their coach, anyway. And I realized it at the first preseason game a week later. I may not know anything about football, but even I could see that they sucked.

  They weren’t a team. Or rather, they weren’t playing like a team.

  They were playing like a travesty.

  “Wow,” Ash muttered next to me as she sipped on a Long Island iced tea. “They suck.”

  And they really did. I glanced over at the scoreboard and saw that the number below “Hammers” was at a 7. For the other team, it was at a 42. I knew enough about the sport to know that we were losing. Bad. They were the home team, and I’d read that home field advantage usually played in the team’s favor.

  “They don’t even play all that hard during the preseason.” Ash gestured angrily at the play below through the window. “What the hell was that?” she yelled, and the stadium erupted into boos and shouts.

  Not directed at the other team. My team. Because they were that terrible.

  I pressed my lips together and nervously glanced about the stadium. It wasn’t even half full, and that was me being generous. It honestly looked pathetic, with most of the seats sitting empty. The fans that were there were all massed around the endzones. Which is where you scored points. They were supposedly highly desirable seats, because that’s where all the action happened.

  I’d been studying my flashcards.

  “That call was bullshit!” Ash yelled, startling the waiters near us. She sat back and flipped the bird. The people that were up in the owner’s suite with us looked at her in bewilderment, from the waiters to the Yellowhammers’ board, to everyone else. They weren’t used to having people like us up in the owner’s box.

  I should probably cut her off from more Long Island iced teas before we got into trouble.

  Although I was on my second drink myself, so I was being hypocritical, but I think my nerves were at such a high, I wasn’t feeling it at all. I knew how many eyes were on this preseason game, judging me as an owner and judging the team on their performance.

  I felt like this would set the theme for my career with the Yellowhammers.

  And we were all blowing it.

  “Come on, guys,” I whispered. “Don’t embarrass yourselves.”

  At this point, I wasn’t even concerned for my own reputation. I thought about Andre, Rodney, Clancy, and the others and how they’d played football their entire lives, only to fail on the national stage here. They were better than this. They could have done so much more.

  At my feet, Winston looked up at me and let out a low whine. I scratched him between the ears, and he leaned into it relishing it.

  “I know, buddy,” I murmured absently. “It’s bad.” He sighed and put his chin on my lap, looking up at me with his baleful doggy eyes. He looked just as miserable as I felt.

  Ash turned her attention down to the pup who looked like he needed a hug. “He looks sad. Or like he needs a treat. When was the last time he went bo-bo?”

  Bo-bo was Ash’s word f
or taking a shit. She said it whenever she was drunk or if she thought she was in police society. Which we had a double whammy of at the moment.

  “I took him out during intermission,” I said.

  “Halftime.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Whatever. He went not that long ago.”

  “Maybe he just knows that we’re losing badly,” Ash cooed at Winston in the high-pitched baby talk she reserved just for him. The basset hound looked at her, his soulful eyes sad. “Yes, the Hammers are just sucking, aren’t they?” She dug into her purse and produced a doggie treat for him. “They’re not good boys like you, huh? Who’s a good boy?”

  Winston greedily ate the biscuit from her hand, slobbering all over her. She grinned and snickered at him, yet another reason why I loved my roommate.

  Even if she was criticizing my team in a puppy-dog voice.

  “It’s just the first preseason game,” I said.

  Ash raised an eyebrow. “And they’re playing against the other team’s second-string. This isn’t saying good things, Madison.”

  I groaned and combed a hand through my hair. “I know. I just…”

  She patted my hand. “It’s not you, babe. It’s them.”

  The ridiculousness of her statement made me snort in laughter. Sad, almost teary laughter. But at least I was laughing.

  There was one good thing about being the owner. “Can I have another Long Island iced tea?” I asked, holding up my glass. A waiter came over to replenish my drink.

  As owner, I got as much alcohol as I wanted in this corporate box. And if every game went this way, then I’d be an alcoholic by the end of it.

  “Oh, me too!” Ash gleefully held up her glass. I wondered if I should cut her off, but I decided against it. The game would be over soon. Right?

  I rubbed at my face. “How much longer?”

  Ash glanced down at the field. “It’s the end of the fourth quarter.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know what that means.”

  “It’s almost over. There’s four minutes left.”

  Four minutes?

  All I could think about was how awful Andre must feel after this game. And Clancy and Rodney were down on that field as well. Morale would be low. And I could imagine that tensions would be heightened after they lost