by Hamel, B. B.
I’m supposed to be grown up but I can barely act like one. I’m throwing myself at this stupid football player like a stupid smitten little girl. I should be running away from him, keeping my distance.
Instead, I’m pregnant, and I still can’t help it.
I’m so, so stupid.
I look at my dad. He’s frowning at me, but he’s at a loss for words. He’s a good dad, a really good one, the best in the world, but he’s never been good at this emotional stuff.
I smile and wipe at my eyes. “I’m fine.”
“Come on. You’re crying. What’s up?”
“Really. I’m fine.”
I want to say it. I want to tell him the truth. This is it, this is my nuclear option.
If I tell my dad, well, I don’t know what’ll happen. I think he’ll probably flip out on me. He might even fire me. But I bet he’ll fire Rivers and send him packing.
I hate myself for wanting that. River is playing well and he seems to be getting along with the guys. He hasn’t gotten himself into trouble, not yet at least. He seems like he really is trying.
If I just hadn’t slept with him, River would be doing good. Hell, he’d be doing great.
Instead, I let him get me pregnant, and now…
Now I want to get him fired.
Six teams in ten years. If he loses this one, it’ll be seven teams. Assuming someone is willing to pick him up, which I kind of doubt.
He’ll end up a backup somewhere. Or worse, he’ll end up in Canada playing for the CFL. His talent will be wasted there, absolutely wasted.
God, I don’t know what to do.
“Sweetie?” Dad asks. “Seriously, if you want to talk about something, it’s okay.” He gets up and comes around his desk. He gently shuts the door and looks at me.
I smile at him. I should just say the words. He’s my dad, after all. He’ll love me no matter what. He knows people make mistakes and he can forgive me for it.
But he won’t forgive River.
“I’m fine,” I say finally. “I think I’m just being overly emotional. That was a big win.”
He nods but doesn’t look convinced. He hugs me and kisses the top of my head. “Okay, kiddo. But if you want to talk, you can talk.”
“I’m fine. Really. Sorry about that. This is probably why girls aren’t on coaching staffs.”
That makes him laugh. “Nah. It’s because the NFL is a big old sexist as hell place and most women are smart enough to stay far, far away. You just happen to be one of the rare strong ones.”
“Or one of the stupid ones.”
He laughs and waves that off, heading back to his desk.
He has no clue just how stupid I am. He has absolutely no clue what I did…
And that I’m a coward.
I should just tell him. Get it over with. He’ll find out sooner or later and I bet later will be much worse.
But I can’t do that to River. I just can’t.
He doesn’t deserve it. He hasn’t done anything wrong.
That’s the part that gets me, that keeps getting me.
I have this image of River in my head. I think he’s this brash asshole that can’t keep his mouth shut and can’t keep himself out of trouble.
And he was that, he has been that.
He’s just not that here.
I don’t know why. He just hasn’t been going out with the other guys and he’s been working hard after hours. It’s like he’s a totally different guy. Somehow, coming to Kansas changed him.
Or maybe he just wanted to change for himself.
Either way, he doesn’t deserve to get cut. He didn’t do a damn thing wrong and I just can’t bring myself to hurt him like that.
I don’t try to avoid him today. When everyone breaks into positions, I actually go with my dad to watch the QBs taking reps. I meet his eye and even though I don’t smile, I don’t look away.
He’s not a bad person. He’s just got a bad reputation.
Can I really hate him for that?
It’s midway through practice when he comes over to talk to me. I’m standing near the water station while most of the guys are doing drills. River is excused since Dad doesn’t want to work him too hard.
“I see you’re not avoiding me today,” he says.
I shrug a little. He’s right about that. Any other day and I would’ve made sure I didn’t end up alone anywhere near him.
“Guess I’m tired of it,” I admit.
He laughs a little. “Huh, and here’s me thinking I changed your mind.”
I raise an eyebrow. “How would you do that?”
“My wit and charm.”
“Hardly. I don’t see any of that here.”
“Okay. My tongue and fingers, then.”
I blush a little bit. “Don’t say that, someone could hear.”
“They’re all busy running around. Come on, don’t pretend like you’re not thinking about it.”
I glare at him. “Not at practice.”
“Fine, fine. Be that way.” He stands next to me, arms crossed, and we watch the guys together for a few minutes in silence. “You know, I talked to Thomas earlier. Said you gave him some tips.”
“Yeah? He going to listen?”
“He said he listened all right. Said you were right.”
I laugh a little. “Of course I was.”
“The guys all like you, you know.”
“Do they?” I act like I don’t care, but of course I care.
“They’re not used to having a girl coach them, don’t get me wrong. And definitely not one so young and so hot.”
I glare at him but I can’t help smiling. “Shut up.”
“Okay. But it’s the truth. They’ll listen though. Might take a little bit but they’ll listen.”
“That’s good to know.”
“And if they don’t, I’ll—”
“River.” I sigh. “You were so close.”
“To what?”
“Making me not hate you completely.”
“I’m just saying, I’ve got your back.”
“I don’t need your help, remember?”
“Sure, sure.” He grins at me. “Just being polite.”
“Oh, yeah, you’re so polite.” I roll my eyes.
“So what are your tips for me, then?”
I hesitate a second. “You really want to hear it?”
“Of course.”
“First of all, stop taking hits.”
“But I—”
“I don’t care,” I cut him off. “Stop it. And stop locking in on your first choice. You’re telegraphing it too much.”
“You told me that one already,” he says with a laugh.
“Then quit doing it,” I grumble.
“Okay, okay. Yes, Coach.”
I smile at that. I can’t help myself.
“Oh, and don’t be afraid to air it out. I think you should’ve thrown deep a few more times last game. Let Reggie run for it.”
“I can do that,” he says. “All right then.”
“Good.” I grin at him. “I like it when you’re quiet and listening.”
“I’m a good student,” he notes.
“Hardly.”
We lapse into silence for a minute again, just watching the guys practice. I feel more comfortable around him, oddly enough. I keep thinking about the secret growing inside of me, and some insane part of my brain keeps telling me that everyone can see it…
But of course they can’t.
“I wanted to ask you something,” he says.
“Yeah? What’s that?”
He meets my gaze, his face serious. “I want to take you on a date.”
I hesitate a second, blinking, before I burst out laughing.
He glares at me.
“Come on, seriously?” I say.
“Yes, seriously.”
“Oh, god, no way. No freaking way.”
“Why not? You like me, I know you do. You can’t help yourself.”
/> “I don’t like you and I don’t want to date you.”
“You’re happy enough letting me tongue that sweet little pussy.”
That stops my laughter. “Okay, enough,” I say, getting heated now.
“Let me take you out. You’re so damn convinced I’m bad news but you’re not even letting me try.”
I hesitate a second. It’s like the man can read my mind. That’s exactly what I’m worried and annoyed about.
“I don’t know,” I say.
“I do. We’ll go somewhere private, somewhere outside of town where we won’t be recognized.”
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “We go somewhere nearby so I can run away in case the date goes badly.”
He laughs, grinning ear to ear. “So that’s a yes?”
“I’m not saying yes, but I’ll go with you.”
“Complicated. I like it.”
“I just mean, it’s not a date. But I’ll eat dinner with you.”
“Okay then. We’ll just eat dinner together.” He cocks his head. “Tomorrow night?”
“Sure. Tomorrow night after practice.”
“I’ll pick you up.”
“Do you even know where I live?”
“Nope. And I need your number.”
I groan. “I’m going to regret this.”
He grins huge. “Nah. You’re not.”
Despite myself, despite the loud warning bells ringing in my brain, I give him my number, text him my address… and I agree to go on his stupid date.
Like I said.
I think I lost my mind.
9
River
Meeting the coach’s daughter for an illicit, secret date…
Totally smart, right?
I mean, that’s how you start shit over. That’s the sort of thing you do when you want to get your life on track.
For sure, not reckless and idiotic.
Better get her pregnant first though.
Otherwise it’s risky.
Fucking hell.
I don’t know what I’m thinking. I haven’t been on a proper date in a long time, but I’m actually nervous. Nicole insists on me picking her up near the stadium so I don’t get her actual home address, which is almost insulting, but I don’t push her on it. I mean, whatever, I figure my place is nicer anyway. So if we’re going back somewhere…
“This better be good,” she says to me, climbing into the car.
“Oh, hey, nice to see you too.”
She gives me a flat look and I give her a nice, long one up and down.
“You clean up well,” I say.
She blushes a little. “Thanks. You too.” She’s wearing a little black dress, short but still somewhat conservative. It makes her look beautiful, her creamy pale skin all that much better. I don’t think I’ve seen her in anything other than coaching outfits… and I have to admit, I like it.
For my part, I figured I’d do it right. I’m wearing my nicest pants and a white shirt tucked into it, top button undone, no jacket. It’s very European but I pull this shit off nicely.
I pull out into traffic. “Where are we heading?” she asks.
“Not far, as per your request,” I say.
She glances out the window. “I may have been a little hard on you,” she says after a beat.
“Yeah?” I ask casually.
“I mean, I know you’re not going to, like, break into my apartment and kidnap me or something.”
“No,” I agree. “I’m not.”
“So I don’t know why I wouldn’t give you my address.”
“It’s okay. We’re figuring this out.”
She gives me a strange look.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing. You can just be so… human sometimes.”
“What a shock. Turns out, I’m an actual person and not just some story on a blog.”
She rolls her eyes. “I didn’t say you were.”
I laugh and shrug. “Look, for the most part, for a long time… it was true. Most of the stories, anyway.”
“Yeah? I’ve heard some bad ones.”
I find a spot and parallel park the car, interrupting the conversation for a second. Once I’m in, I get out and lead her to a little restaurant at the corner with big glass windows. It’s quiet and mostly empty.
“Looks nice,” she says.
“Hope so. I asked some random guy on the street what the best restaurant around is, and he said this place.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously. Come on.”
She shakes her head and follows me inside. Fortunately, that random guy was right. The place is nice and we get a little table in the back corner away from everyone else. I don’t think anyone recognizes me, which is good. I think I’m too new to the city, and plus, nobody expects to see an actual famous person show up in their town.
Not that I’m so famous. Football players have some level of fame, but not like an actor or whatever. I like it, to be honest. I can have a somewhat normal life with some level of privacy, but I still get the perks of being famous.
Nicole settles in and I order a bottle of wine. She raises an eyebrow. “You know you’re drinking that alone, right?”
I grimace. “Shit. Sorry.”
“It’s okay. You can afford it. I know how much Dad is paying you.”
I laugh at her and feel like a moron. Of course she isn’t drinking. She’s pregnant with my fucking baby.
Idiot.
The waitress comes back with the wine. I take a glass and we order our food. When she’s gone again, I sip my drink and Nicole looks at me for a second.
“So, you said most of the stories are true,” she says. “Which ones aren’t?”
I laugh a little. “The worst ones. Take your pick.”
She frowns. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard something that bad about you. Just… I don’t know. Hijinks, pranks.”
“The strip club story,” I say softly.
“That’s not great,” she concedes.
“It’s mostly true,” I say. “I did buy the place. But I didn’t burn it down. I wasn’t even in town at the time, we had a road game. Some girl just left her straightener on all afternoon on top of a bunch of papers. They caught fire and the rest is rumor.”
“Huh.” She cocks her head slightly. “Must be hard, being in the limelight all the time.”
“Nah,” I say. “Most of it was my own damn fault. I liked to have too much fun.”
“You say that like you’re not having fun anymore.”
“I might be turning a new leaf.”
She chews on her cheek for a second. “Why is that?” she asks finally. “I mean, I noticed that you’ve been good. You haven’t gone out… you haven’t done much besides work out, from what I can tell.”
I lean back in my chair. “You wanna get real, huh?”
“Hey, you brought me here. Dates are for getting to know each other, right?”
“Okay then,” I say, grinning at her. “You ask me a question, I ask you a question. That’s how this’ll work.”
“Fine,” she says smugly, although she doesn’t know what she’s getting into.
“You can start.”
“So gracious. Well, my question stands. Why haven’t you been going out?”
“Because I don’t want to get into any trouble and I know I will sooner or later if I keep going out.”
She frowns. “But why don’t you—”
“Ah, my turn,” I say, interrupting her.
She sighs. “Fine, go ahead.”
I lean forward. “What did you like better, riding my cock or getting fucked from behind?”
She sputters on a glass of water and coughs a little. I grin at her, delighted by her reaction.
“What the hell kind of question is that?” she demands.
“It’s one I want answered,” I answer innocently. “I mean, it’s information I need to know.”
“You don’t need to know anything like that,” s
he says.
“Come on. You want to ask more?”
“Yes,” she says through clenched teeth.
“Then answer.”
She stares at me for a few seconds. “Behind, okay?”
I lean back and whistle. “Dirty girl.”
“Okay, don’t make me feel weird for what I like.”
“Never. That’s the answer I was hoping for.” I grin at her and spread my hands. “Go ahead. Ask away.”
She’s blushing now and I love it. “Why don’t you want to get in trouble?” she asks. “You seem like you’ve always enjoyed it everywhere else.”
I take a sip of wine before answering.
“I’m not getting younger,” I say honestly. “I’ve drifted around the league for years. Yeah, I won a couple Super Bowls, but even that wasn’t enough to make teams want to keep me. That’s not a good thing for a guy like me. If I want to last long-term in this league, I need to settle down and get my shit together.”
“So you’re thinking long-term for this team?” she asks, a little surprise in her voice.
I grin at her. “Nope. Only one question.”
She groans. “Okay, fine. Go ahead, ask your perverted question.”
I swirl my wine casually. “Why do you like coaching football?”
That seems to surprise her. “You don’t want to ask me something dirty again?”
“I’ll get to more of that later.”
She shrugs. “Fine. That’s easy. I grew up doing it.”
“That’s not an answer.”
She narrows her eyes. “Sure it is.”
“I grew up with two accountants for parents and I’m not an accountant.”
“Really?” she asks.
“Really. So why football?”
She’s quiet for a second, looking away. “I guess I like the simplicity of it.”
“Explain.”
She sighs and is about to talk but the food arrives, interrupting her. I’m a little annoyed but I don’t show that. For the first time in a long time, I’m actually interested in getting to know a person.
The waitress leaves and Nicole digs into her food, but I sit back and sip my wine.
“I still want that explanation,” I say.
She looks almost annoyed. “Okay, fine. Just quit staring at me.”
“You’re so angry all the time, you know that?”
She looks flustered. “I mean, you are, I just—”
“Relax. I was staring. I can’t help myself. You look fucking hot when you’re not wearing your boring coaching gear.”
