COACH (Boston Terriers Book 3)

by Jacob Chance

  “Don’t ever touch her again. I’ll break your fucking fingers one at a time and then beat your ass.” His tone is pure malice.

  The customer holds up his hands beseechingly. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again,” he backpedals.

  “You bet your ass it won’t. Not unless you want to get to know me a whole lot better.” Coach’s hand slips from my back to take hold of mine, giving a gentle, reassuring squeeze. He wordlessly leads me away and I gladly follow on wobbly legs. My chest feels weak from a combination of fear and relief.

  Coach draws me into the employees’ break room and thankfully it’s empty. Once the door shuts I inhale a ragged breath as he pulls me into his arms, cushioning my cheek against his muscular chest. The contrast between the softness of his shirt and the strength of his solid muscles is reassuring. A scent unique to him envelops me as he gently rocks me side to side as if I’m something fragile or in danger of breaking. Right now, the only thing I’m in jeopardy of is losing the tenacious hold on my attraction for him. God knows, there’s nowhere I’d rather be than here in his arms. My coach. The same asshole who pisses me off at every single practice.

  How can I be so drawn to someone I dislike so much?

  It makes no sense and I’ve pretty much given up on solving the complex equation of my attraction to him any time soon.

  Shivering, I shake off thoughts of what happened and push my hands into Zeke’s chest. Stepping back, I brush a hand over my hair and remind myself to calm down. I can’t let some asshole customer shake me. I’m a big girl and I know how to handle myself. My brothers made sure I wasn’t some helpless damsel and I certainly don’t want to be perceived as one by Coach or anyone else. If I’m going to continue working here, this kind of behavior is sure to happen again. I don’t need to use Coach as a crutch. Or at least that’s what I tell myself to explain why I’m not still pressed to him.

  Tonight wasn’t a very good example of being self sufficient. Maybe it had something to do with how nice it felt to have Coach come to my rescue. I also enjoyed the comfort he offered. Being in his arms was better than I imagined and I never should have allowed it to happen.

  “Amelia?” he questions pulling me from my reflection.

  “Thank you for what you did, but I’m fine now.” I force a smile on my lips and hold my arms straight out at both sides. “See. I’m good. No worse for the wear.”

  He looks me over, contemplating the truth in my words. “Are you sure?”

  My hands fall to my sides, palms slapping against my outer thighs. “Yes, I am. All good now and I need to return to work before my boss notices me missing.”

  “I’m gonna hang around for a few and make sure he’s gone.” Coach brushes my bangs away from my lashes, tucking them behind my ear. The expression in his eyes is so tender I can barely breathe. “Give me your phone.”

  I don’t even protest. Slipping it from my back pocket, I enter the code and hand it over, lost in the sense of warmth his gaze infused me with.

  Zeke types on the screen for a bit before handing it back. “Call me if you need anything.” His earnest words have my stomach tingling.

  The rest of my shift passes without incident. I punch out and grab my stuff from my locker. Pushing the door open with my back, I wave goodbye to my coworkers before I step outside into the cool nighttime air. Goosebumps break out on my bare arms as I begin walking toward the side parking lot. It feels as though someone is watching me, but I’m sure it’s leftover paranoia from the incident earlier.

  Quickening my pace, I continue toward my vehicle all the while reminding myself to breathe. One row from my car, I peer anxiously over my shoulder to make sure no one is behind me. The area seems clear and as my head turns forward once again, I exhale a sigh of relief - it’s just my imagination working overtime. I crash into a large figure with a tooth jarring slam of our bodies. He’s rock solid like a brick wall and I rebound off his chest. His large hands clasp my upper arms before I can topple to the ground and I shriek, letting out a terrified wail. “Let me go,” my fists flail as I beat on any part of him I can reach. The poor illumination of the parking lot leaves it mostly in darkness and I can’t make out his face.

  He shakes me. “Amelia, stop,” he barks. “It’s me, Zeke.”

  Instantly, my fists end their assault. My fingers straighten, palms flatten out against the dark blue material of his t-shirt. “Zeke?”

  “Yes, it’s me.”

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” I question with a slap on his chest. “You gave me a heart attack. Why couldn’t you shout out a warning to let me know you were here?”

  “I’m sorry. I thought you’d see me. I’m not exactly small.” He grins down at me from his lofty height.

  “The lighting is horrible in this parking lot. I can barely see where I’m going never mind if you’re standing here.”

  “Well, this is a problem then.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You need to park under a light and closer to the building.”

  “Tell that to my boss, Kip. He won’t let us park anywhere but the back two rows.”

  “You let me take care of Kip. I think it’s time for some policy changes.”

  I snort. “Good luck with that. I’ve only worked a few shifts, but I already know what a hardass he is.”

  “I can be a bigger one than he is, so don’t worry about it.”

  “Honestly, most of the time, I’ll be walking to and from work anyway. My dorm is only two blocks away.”

  “You’re kidding me?”

  “No, why would I joke about that?”

  “Amelia, you can’t be walking home alone late at night. It’s not safe.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “Amelia, we’ll discuss this another time. Now get in your car, I’m going to follow you home.”

  “Zeke, you don’t need to do that.” I roll my eyes.

  “Amelia, don’t argue. Just get in your car and do what I say for once. When you get inside your dorm safely I want you to text me.”

  “Are you always this pushy?” I cross my arms over my chest.

  “What do you think?”

  “Hmph, I think I better not answer that question. I don’t want to be running extra laps at our next practice,” I mention before walking to my car. His watchful gaze burns into my back with each step I take. My spine is ramrod straight as I resist glancing back. Being near him affects me more each time. I was hoping the pull I feel for him would disappear once I got used to being in his company, but it’s not. With each interaction it seems stronger. There must be a solution to this situation I’m not seeing.

  “My feet are killing me and it’s too fucking hot in here.” I grimace, swiping a hand over my sweaty brow.

  Owen leans over the bar toward me. “Being so naturally hot myself I can’t do anything about cooling you off, but I give a mean massage. Want me to rub your feet?” He wiggles his eyebrows.

  Scrunching my nose, I reply, “No thanks.”

  He snaps his fingers. “Damn, I didn’t think so.”

  “Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask how your football practices have been going. I haven’t had a chance to watch any of them, but I’ve been wanting to.”

  “You’ve been wanting to check out my form have you?” Owen smirks.

  “You’re bad. Stop making everything awkward. I’m being serious.”

  “Sorry. I can’t seem to help myself whenever I see a pretty girl.”

  “That’s because you’re an incorrigible flirt.”

  “Hey, flirting is fun and one of my favorite things to do.”

  “I can tell.”

  “Do I give good flirt?”

  I roll my eyes. “You’re decent. Now answer my question.”

  “What did you ask me?”

  I sigh exaggeratedly. “I asked you how football practice has been going.”

  “I’m happy with where I’m at. B.U. hired a new trainer who only works with quarterbacks and I feel l
ike I made some great progress from last season. She’s helped me gain strength and flexibility. Plus, my mechanics are better.”

  “That’s awesome. I’m a little envious. I feel like most of what I do is on my own.”

  “You have a great coaching staff to work with now that you’re at B.U.”

  “Yeah, I know, but there’s so much more to football than what we do in practice.”

  “How are you and Coach Kingston getting along?”

  Why is he questioning me about this? Are there rumors circulating that we’re not getting along? “Fine. He’s a solid coach. Why?”

  He smiles. “No reason, just curious. He and I were teammates last year.” Why do I feel like there’s more to his comment than he’s letting on?

  “I think all the coaches are really helpful.”

  “How are the girls treating you?”

  I raise my shoulders in a quick shrug. “I’m dealing.”

  “I’m sure you and the other newbies are getting a bit of cold shoulder.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “It’s kind of the way it goes here. Hazing doesn’t go on with the women’s team, but you definitely have to prove yourself before they truly accept you. Don’t worry, it won’t take long with your talent and drive.”

  “Thanks. I hope you’re right. Either way, I’m not losing sleep over it. I’m here to play ball not make new besties.”

  He laughs. “You’re not the typical college girl, you know that?”

  “Yep, I’ve heard that before. I’ve always been focused on things that are more important than what other girls think of me.”

  “Well, you’re pretty and you kick ass on the field so it might be hard for a lot of them to like you. I’m sure there’ll be more than a few cases of the green eyed monster rearing his ugly mug.”

  Chapter Eight

  Zeke

  “Hey man, to what do I owe the honor of this visit?” Owen questions from the other side of the bar as I slide onto a stool.

  “It’s been a long work week. I’m in the mood for a cold beer and some shitty company.” I can’t tell him the real reason why I’m here.

  “Ha, you could’ve stayed home with Trevor if that’s all you wanted.”

  “Sure. Like he’s home.” Trevor finds more time to party than anyone I know. I’m not even sure how he manages on the little amount of sleep he gets. Shifting my weight forward, I lean my forearms on the wooden surface. “I just needed a change of scenery. The walls were closing in on me.” I’m not lying to Owen. I was trying to talk myself out of coming here. I spent most of the evening bouncing back and forth between whether I should or shouldn’t. When it came right down to it, there was no way I could sit at home thinking Amelia could be walking home by herself. What if something horrible happened to her and I could’ve prevented it? I’m only looking out for one of my players and I’d do the same for anyone. Wouldn’t I?

  “I hear ya. Some nights are like that. You gotta have a drink and blow off some steam. You know bartenders are like free psychiatrists if you need to get something off your chest.”

  “I’m fine. There’s nothing heavy on my mind. Sometimes a change in the daily routine is all I need.”

  “Now that we got that out of the way, what’s your poison?”

  “I’ll take a Heineken.”

  “Since you’re breaking up your routine by coming here why don’t you order something else?”

  “Actually, a rum and coke would be great.”

  “Captain Morgan’s?”

  “Have you ever known me to drink any other kind?”

  “No, but I thought you might want to get really adventurous. You should try one of their new summer flavors. How about watermelon smash?”

  “No thanks. You can’t mess with perfection, dude.” Owen moves off to make my drink and my gaze scans around, searching for a tall brunette with legs that go on endlessly. I find Amelia in the corner talking to a table of male customers. They’re all wearing grins on their faces and laughter is ringing out from that area. Of course they’re enjoying her company. Everyone with a dick in this place is wishing she was with them. They all want her attention and I’m no different. Except, every guy in here wouldn’t want to walk her home. That makes me slightly less of a piece of shit than most of them.

  “Here you go.” Owen slides my drink in front of me with a grin tipping up the left corner of his mouth.

  “What?” I swallow the first ice cold sip. It’s delicious and much needed.

  “It must be hard to coach someone like Amelia.”

  I place the glass down on the bar. “How so?”

  “She’s gorgeous - sexy as fuck. And from what I’ve heard talented, too.” He pauses.

  “And your point is?”

  “My point is, it must be difficult to keep things professional. She’s the total package. Any guy would want her.”

  “She’s all those things you mentioned, but it’s not an issue. I can find someone attractive and not act on it. I have restraint.”

  “When you’re forbidden from becoming involved with someone it makes it harder to stay away.”

  “Are you speaking from experience?”

  “Maybe.” He smirks. I can’t tell if he’s revealing something personal or if he’s stating an observation. Owen’s always been hard to read. On the surface he seems like a fun, easy going guy, but I know he’s been through a lot in his young life. “How’s work been for you?”

  “It’s going really well. I’ve landed some pretty impressive clients and the big boss is pleased.”

  “When I sign with the NFL, I’m hiring you to handle my money,” Owen responds.

  “Sounds like a plan to me. I’m at your disposal.” Owen might seem cocky saying when he signs and not if, but he’s that talented. Provided he avoids injury, it’s pretty much a guarantee. I hope it works out for him. Owen’s a hard worker and a solid guy. As much as I give him shit about his playboy ways, he’s a good person. Tipping back the glass, I swallow down the rest of my beverage.

  “It’s about to be last call, do you want one more?” Owen inquires.

  Glancing at the clock on the wall behind the bar, I see there’s still plenty of time before Amelia finishes. “Sure. Go easy on the ice this time.”

  Leaning back against the front of the building I wait until Amelia has almost reached me before I step out and make myself known.

  “Coach, what are you doing here? I thought you’d gone home.”

  I smirk. So she knew I was at Goliath’s and she noticed when I left. This pleases me even though it shouldn’t. “I’m waiting for you.”

  “Why? What’s up?”

  “Nothing. I told you I didn’t want you walking home alone and I meant it.”

  “Coach.” She smiles with her lips pressed together. “I appreciate your concern, but you can’t be here to walk me home every night I work.”

  “Says who?”

  “It’s not practical. You have a life, and I’m not your responsibility.”

  “Then why do I feel like you are?”

  She rakes her teeth back and forth over her bottom lip. “I’m not sure. Maybe because I’m on your team?”

  “Yeah, that must be it,” I reply, but I know damn well it’s more than that.

  “Look, I promise you, I’ll be fine with or without you. I’m not helpless.”

  “I’m here now, so humor me.”

  “Okay, I can do that.”

  We walk slowly, enjoying the peaceful feeling of the city. There are a few stragglers out and about, but it’s nothing like earlier in the night when the sidewalks were littered with throngs of pedestrians milling around. At this late hour, with the bars all closed up, the only people we see are customers going in and out of a twenty-four-hour convenience store and residents of the neighborhood.

  “Want to grab a bite to eat? There’s a tavern not too far from here that stays open late.”

  Amelia rolls her lips inward and flicks her
eyes to me. “Come on. You know you’re hungry and it’s my treat. We can get to know each other and you’ll see I’m not a bad guy.”

  “I never said I thought you were a bad guy.”

  “Does that mean we can get something to eat?”

  She hesitates and then shrugs as if she gave up on the internal argument with herself. “Sure. I am kinda hungry after the shift I just worked.”

  “It seemed like a packed house.”

  “Oh, it was. I’m not complaining, the tips were great, but I definitely worked up an appetite.”

  “Cut down this street here,” I direct to the right and place her on the inside of the sidewalk. “Have you had a chance to explore since you moved?”

  “No, not at all. Between getting settled in, working, and practice, most of my time’s taken up. I also go to the gym and run daily.”

  “Are you telling me this because I’m your coach and you want to earn brownie points?”

  Her expression is pure innocence. “Nope, I’m merely explaining why I’m so busy.”

  I laugh. “That’s what I figured.”

  “Did you grow up in Massachusetts?”

  “No, I’m from Pennsylvania, but my dad’s from here.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re a Steelers fan.”

  “What if I am?”

  “Are you gonna wave your terrible towel at me?” she giggles.

  “I don’t have one to wave. I’ve always been a Pats fan. My dad wouldn’t tolerate my brother or I being raised as anything else.”

  “I’ve always been more into college football, myself. The Terriers have been my favorite team for as long as I can remember.” She glances over at me and our eyes meet.

  “And now you’re playing for them.”

  She smiles. “And now I’m playing for them. Not bad, huh? This opportunity is more than I ever dreamed of. It still feels surreal.”

  “Wait until you suit up for the first game and hear how intense the roar of the Terriers fans can be. There’s nothing like it.”

  “Do you miss playing?”

  “Have you done your homework on me, Amelia?”