by Jacob Chance
“Call me Coach.”
Fuck my life. I rake my teeth over my bottom lip, holding a grimace back. Great. If he’s the offensive coordinator then I’ll be working closely with him. “I won’t say it’s been nice meeting you, but there’s only one way to go from here, right?” I point upward with my index finger, pasting a friendly smile on my lips.
I was hoping to break through the awkward tension with my joke, but it flopped. In fact, he didn’t react at all and the stoney expression on his face makes me wish I’d kept my big mouth shut. I may have just painted a large target on my back and I have a feeling deep in my gut Coach isn’t someone I want to mess with. He has a hardass look about him. A sexy hardass and it’s too late now.
Coach towers over me from an imposing height and that’s not easy for most men to do. I’m five foot ten inches tall in my bare feet, but he has a good seven inches on me. I can’t remember the last time I felt small around anyone, never mind a man. I’m not going to lie; I like it. He’s still a chauvinistic asshole, but an admittedly attractive one with disheveled black hair.
“Amelia,” he utters my name slowly. I stare at his masculine lips and watch as they enunciate each syllable clearly. Is he purposely taking his time? I clench my stomach muscles trying to stop the flutter of intrigue his deep voice is stirring up, before it gains a foothold. Thank God he’s a dick. Ignoring the fact that my new coach is sexy as fuck will be easier this way.
“Punctuality is something we require on this team. I hope that won’t be a problem for you.” He crosses thick forearms over his barrel-like chest and my eyes hone in on the veins bulging out of his tan skin. “Well?” he questions, with a smirk twisting his lips.
Shit. He busted me checking out his arms. “I’ll be on time from now on. The only reason I was late today is because—”
“Save it,” he cuts me off. “I’m sure you’ve heard the saying excuses are like assholes - everyone has one.”
Wow. He really is a rude jerk. I nod sharply and arch a brow. “May I go now?” It’s a struggle to keep the annoyance from my tone.
He juts his chin toward the field. “Be sure to make up the two laps you missed.”
I give him a thumbs up and turn to walk away. “Amelia.” His deep husk halts my escape. I flick a glance over my shoulder. “‘Yes, sir’ is the appropriate reply. Don’t forget next time.”
My eyes narrow as I glare at him. Malicious intent gleams from my brown depths before I snap my head forward with enough force to send my thick braid swinging wildly from side to side, before settling with a heavy thump between my shoulder blades. His gravelly chuckle taunts me as I break into an easy jog. I sense the heat of his stare with every stride I make. It’s not until I’ve put some distance between us that I comfortably exhale with a large sigh of relief.
I fall into the back of the line behind Grace, one of the few girls I exchanged introductions with before practice began. We only had time to say a brief hello, but she seemed nice enough. And it helps to know she’s also new to the Terriers.
I didn’t get a chance to meet the rest of the girls because Mr. Walls, the sports director, pulled me aside to catch up and thank me for joining the organization. He’s the one who came to Maryland to meet with me. He’s a long-winded guy, but I didn’t want to appear rude. I’m grateful for him bringing me here. I let him continue until I found a time to politely extricate myself from the mostly one sided conversation. This is what I was trying to tell Coach, but the rude bastard shut me down.
I’m not one of those girls who grew up dreaming about playing football. In fact, I was all about being the perfect ballerina. I preferred twirling around our house until I was dizzy enough to fall down. But with a dad and two older brothers who were eager to turn me into a tomboy, I played more backyard football than any other girl I knew. And more than some boys, too.
Once I was at Baltimore University I tried out for the girl’s team, desperate for something to keep me physically active. All those years of messing around with my brothers paid off. They’d taught me how to throw a perfect spiral since I was a young girl, but I didn’t realize I had any special talent until I joined the Baltimore University Wildcats.
I was having fun, and the fact that we were winning our games was just the cherry on top. I wasn’t seeing it as anything more than a hobby I loved. I had no idea women’s college football was on the cusp of exploding in popularity. Once universities began realizing there was money to be made from this venture, more of them formed teams and began offering scholarships as enticement. I certainly never entertained the idea I could end up attending B.U. on a full athletic scholarship - which is exactly what’s happened.
Boston University was my first choice of schools, unfortunately, my parents didn’t agree. Since they were footing the bill, I had no choice but to attend Baltimore University for the first two years. I never imagined my love for playing football could bring me to the city of my dreams. It wasn’t even a notion that B.U. would recruit me for the Terriers - until they did. That was the best day of my life, and now that I’m here, I’m ready to kick ass on the field and take names.
Zeke blows his whistle and all the girls head over in his direction while I keep running the final two laps as ordered. I keep my focus straight in front of me and do my best to knock them out as quickly as possible. I’m glad he’s wearing his aviators because I don’t think I could run and deal with the weight of his unfiltered stare following me.
By the time I’m ready to join the rest of the team, they’re sitting on the field stretching out. Sinking down, I straighten my legs in front of me and drop my head to my knees, allowing my hamstrings to loosen. The next stretch in my usual routine involves pulling my heels in and pressing the soles of my feet together. My breathing is still accelerated from the running, or maybe it’s Coach’s nearness as he walks by. Pressing my elbows on my knees, I push down and lean forward, letting my gaze roam from Coach’s muscular calves all the way up to the back of his thick black hair. Lowering my forehead toward my feet, I allow myself to take advantage of the thirty count I hold each position for by mentally retracing the path my eyes travelled along his hot body. He’s built like a giant carved from stone, and the back view is as impressive as the front.
The rest of the practice is spent running simple drills, and I try my hardest to push Coach out of my mind, but it’s easier said than done. He’s on the sidelines providing quite an impressive distraction, and judging by the whispers and giggles, I’m not the only one who’s noticed. With every step I take, I worry he’s watching me and also worry he’s not. I don’t want to be thinking about him at all. He’s my coach and an asshole from what I’ve seen so far. Lord knows I don’t need another one of those in my life, been there - done that.
I promised myself moving here would be a fresh start and I wouldn’t become involved with any guys for at least six months. That means I shouldn’t notice or think about members of the opposite sex - at all. Doing either of those things only leads to more. Before I know it I’ll be talking to them and saying yes if I get asked out. Next thing I’ll be in love and wasting the next two years on someone who’s not worth the time or effort. Which is exactly what happened to me my first two years of college.
I met my ex, Jason, the first week of freshman year and we were glued to each other for the next fifteen months. Things began to cool off after that, but I was too in love to notice until I found out he was cheating on me. I didn’t want to believe it at first. It was only after I saw him kissing someone else it finally sunk in. He denied everything, but I know what I saw. It’s hard to misinterpret your boyfriend locking lips with someone else. The pain was gut wrenching and I promised myself I’d make the most of my remaining college years. Avoiding any involvement with guys is at the top of my to do list.
It’s been three months since Jason and I broke up and I’ve been doing well, until today. Coach took me by surprise; maybe that’s why I find myself thinking about him. I wasn’t expecting any
of the staff to be so young or attractive. Now that I know what he looks like, I’ll adjust. Maybe once the novelty wears off, I’ll think of him the same as every other coach I’ve ever had.
Practice ends with a shrill whistle from Coach and clapping from the rest of the coaching staff. Mark steps forward with a smile on his face. “You girls did great for the first practice. I’m extremely excited about this coming football season. We’ve got a few new additions I know will make huge contributions to the team.” His eyes move over each of us standing in line, making it seem like he’s connecting on a more personal level. “If you haven’t already, please be sure to introduce yourselves to Amelia, Grace, and Leah. Please make them feel welcome. I expect to see you all here Tuesday night at six o’clock sharp for our next practice. It will be no pads and very similar to today. Enjoy the rest of your weekend.”
We clap and whoop for a few seconds before grabbing water bottles and towels from the long metal bench. Wiggling my toes inside my cleats, I groan from the discomfort. Getting my flip flops on and finding some relief for my cramping arches is all I’m thinking about. It takes a few days of being in my cleats before the pain subsides.
Bending down, I pick up my sport sac. Shoving the empty water bottle inside, I turn toward the locker room.
“Amelia.” A deep voice calls out, halting my feet.
Shit. It’s only the first day of practices and I’m being held back by the coach. Slowly, I pivot around, my stomach quivering with a combination of nerves and excitement. This isn’t good.
My eyes raise from the grass to find him standing within touching distance, his arms crossed over his rock solid chest. Is this his favorite position or something? He looks imposing enough already - no need to play it up.
“What’s up?” I question, casually slinging the bag over my shoulder while feeling anything but nonchalant about having more interaction with him.
“I expect you to be on time for practice Tuesday night. Do you think that will be a problem for you?”
“Nope,” I say, popping the p at the end. “I’ll be here on time.”
“I think you mean, ‘No, sir’.”
I roll my eyes before I can stop myself.
He cocks his head. “You’re a disrespectful little thing, aren’t you?”
“No, sir. I can honestly say no one’s ever found fault with my manners before. Maybe it’s you?” The words fly out of my mouth before I can stop them. If only I could reel them back in like a fish hooked on the line. Why did I say that?
Coach steps forward, encroaching on my personal space. “I can guarantee you it’s not me. I’m sure if you think things over for the next few days you’ll be able to figure out how to correct your lack of respect. If not, then I’ll have to help you.”
“Hmm, that almost sounds like a threat under the guise of helping me, but I can’t imagine what I’ve done to justify such treatment. I’ve only met you two hours ago - most of which was spent working out.”
Coach rakes his straight white teeth over his bottom lip. “You may go now, Amelia. See you at six sharp on Tuesday.”
“Gotcha,” I reply, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. I don’t know why I won’t just say “yes, sir,” like he wants. I’m only making things harder on myself each time I go against his wishes. I’ve never been one to behave in such a disrespectful manner, so why am I now?
Spinning around, I stroll toward the locker room entrance. My hand closes around the steel handle. “Amelia, soon you’ll call me sir and love doing it.”
Tugging the door open, I appear to ignore his words as I step inside, but once the door closes behind me, I stumble backward on weak knees and lean against the solid surface. My arms wrap around my waist as his taunting words echo through my mind. The flutter of desire in my lower stomach is hard to ignore as my head falls back against the steel and I squeeze my eyes shut.
I’m pretty sure he could get me to do a lot of things I’ve never imagined.
Wandering down the hallway, the many conversations taking place reverberate, sounding like loud indecipherable chatter. I grimace at the thought of having to walk into the locker room when everyone else is already in there, but there’s no other choice. Coach made sure of that - another strike against him. Stepping through the doorway, I do my best to be inconspicuous, but it doesn’t go as well as I hoped.
“Damn, girl, the first day of practice and you’re already getting one on one attention from our sexy coach,” Grace broaches the already touchy subject with a smile. “What I wouldn’t give to spend some extra time with him.”
“Pfft, it doesn’t matter what he looks like. He’s still a dick.”
“Amelia, I’m Leah, the other newbie on the team.” Our new wide receiver steps over to me.
“Hey, it’s great to meet you.”
“I figured the three of us can stick together since we’re all here on scholarships.”
I nod. “Yep we’re all in the same boat. Might as well sink or swim together.”
“This seems like a tough group to get to know.” Grace tips her head toward the rest of the team as they converse and giggle as if we’re not there. So much for making us feel welcome.
“Maybe they just take some time to warm up to new people,” I reply, hoping that’s the case.
“I don’t need to be besties with any of them as long as they’re willing to work hard and can play ball. Isn’t that why we’re here?” Leah questions.
“Yep, I agree. What dorms are you guys in?” Grace inquires.
“I’m in Warren Towers. It seems decent. I’m in a private room though,” I explain.
“Hey, I’m there too,” Leah divulges excitedly. “What floor are you on?”
“The second.”
“No way,” Leah bounces on her toes. “I am too. Room eighteen.”
“Really? I’m in fourteen.”
“You guys aren’t going to believe this, but I’m moving into Warren Towers tomorrow. They put me in the wrong one and I had to stay there for a few days. I’ll be on the second floor also, room sixteen.”
Leah claps her hands. “This is great. Now I don’t have to worry about going to dinner alone every night.”
“That does help. Nothing is more daunting than walking into a locker room of teammates you don’t know - except going to dinner alone at a new school,” Grace chimes in.
“Yeah, tell me about it,” I agree. “Thanks for coming over and talking to me. I was dreading being in here.”
Grace shrugs her slim shoulders. “No worries. I’m glad to help out. I have a feeling the three of us are going to kick ass on this team and have a great year.”
I smile, feeling optimistic. “I hope you’re right. I really do.”
Chapter Four
Zeke
I watch every tempting sway of Amelia’s hips as she walks away. My gaze stays on her until she disappears behind the door. Only then do I allow the grin to break out on my lips. Shaking my head, I think about her insolent tone and what I’d like to do to change it. Her shiny berry colored mouth wouldn’t be able to talk if I did any number of the things I’m imagining - things I shouldn’t be imagining.
Fuck.
I can’t treat her as anything but one of the players. She’s just like any other member of the team and we can only have a professional relationship. Anything more would be a breach of my contract. I just got promoted to offensive coordinator last week when Bob, the former one, decided he didn’t want to renew his contract. I’ve been handed an enormous opportunity and I can’t blow it. Not even for the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.
“What’s new with you, man? Do you miss me?” Nick asks while we stretch out on the gym mats.
“When was the last time we spoke?”
“I think it’s been about two weeks.”
“How is that possible? Your apartment is across the hall from ours and I never see you. You might as well be across the city.” Nick recently moved in with his fiancée, Carter.
&nb
sp; “Does this mean you miss me? Your life can’t be nearly as exciting as it was when we were roommates.”
“Not as exciting, but a lot cleaner.”
“Come on. That can’t be true. I’m a changed man. I even vacuum.”
“Carter finally trained you?”
He beams a smile at the mention of her name. “She sure did. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for my girl.”
“Yeah, yeah, spare me the details. Some of us are permanently stuck in a bitter stage.”
“Are you really still hung up on Claire? Dude, she’s not worth wasting another minute over.”
“Nah, I’m not, but I did bump into her and her fiancé the other day.”
“Oh shit. Fiancé? Is this the same dude you went all No-No on?” he questions, referring to Noah, a close friend who’s an MMA champion fighter.
I chuckle at the reference. “Yep, the same one and he didn’t say a word the whole time.”
“Pussy.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought too.”
“What else is going on with you?”
“I got promoted to offensive coordinator for the Terriers.”
“Dude. No fucking way.” His eyes widen with surprise.
“Yes fucking way. Pretty cool right?”
He grins. “That’s amazing. What a great opportunity for you.” He holds out his fist and I bump it. “I know you’ve always wondered about a future in coaching. This could be a great stepping stone.”
“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking too. I love coaching and if the right opportunity came along I’d give up my full-time job.”
Nick rises to his feet. “Let’s get this workout over with so we can go grab some good eats. I’m starving.” He rubs his flat stomach and my eyes drift up to read the words written on his white t-shirt. There’s a picture of chicken nuggets and the caption Nugg Life.
I shake my head and smile. So typical for Nick. “Sounds like a plan.”
