Her body language tells me her presence here has nothing to do with her making some kind of effort for her dad.
Her gaze darts to mine and lingers only for a second, but long enough to communicate why she’s here.
For me.
I started playing football my freshman year in high school as left tackle because I got off on hitting people. In all the years since, no one has ever come to watch me play.
But Emery showed up for me. Even put herself in her hated father’s world. For me. I should feel that shit in my chest, but instead my dick presses firmly against my cup.
If it weren’t for my dedication to my team, I’d blow our cover, collar her throat and sink my tongue into her mouth in front of everyone and God.
I’m not that much of a selfish prick, so I bite my tongue until I feel the rush of saliva fill my mouth. Later. I will kiss her later. I will kiss the fuck out of her. Bite her lip until it bleeds.
Now I do feel something in my chest and it has fuck all to do with the roar of the home team crowd and the thrill of the game.
Whatever this is, it’s Emery who’s making me feel it.
Emery
BSU won.
35-29
Turns out Coach Deadbeat-Dad has a pretty decent team. Not that I know anything about football. I hate the sport.
My sexy quarterback was an integral part in his teams win tonight. I overheard my dad’s shouted praise for his “hustle” and “focus”. I was too transfixed on Theodore’s ass in his uniform and all his black hair soaked with sweat when he would push it off his forehead. He radiates confidence and raw power, and he throws a football as if it’s being shot out of a cannon.
When I asked my dad if I could tag along to tonight’s game it was clear the way his face lit up that he mistook my interest for an olive branch. His hope that eventually he’ll be able to fix what he broke between us as useless as it is pathetic.
I would’ve liked to tell him that my only interest in tonight’s game has everything to do with the man who has managed to make me feel something good in as long as I can remember. But sacrificing Theodore for my own demented pleasure doesn’t carry the satisfaction that it used to.
After the team left the field to go back to the locker room, my dad offered to let me wait in his office until all the players were showered and dressed. I rolled my eyes and reminded him that I’ve seen plenty of naked men before. His face turned a little green and bought me some satisfaction.
Displayed around his desk are trophies and certificates of excellence for coaching. One in a gold frame on the wall is dated just two years after he left me at boarding school—a reward for my abandonment.
The sound of water rushing through the pipes in the walls mixes with the excited voices of men hyped up on a win. The door opens behind me, the team’s chattering and laughter made louder for a few seconds before my dad closes the door behind him.
“Hey, they’re almost done out there.” He circles his desk and grabs the truck keys. “Me and some of the coaches are going to The Fieldhouse to celebrate.” Hopeful eyes meet mine. “You’re welcome to come with.”
“No.” I turn back to the gold-framed certificate on the wall. “I’ll get an Uber home.”
He sighs. “You haven’t said much tonight.”
I shrug.
“Em, it means a lot to me that you wanted to come. Now that we have some privacy to talk…”
I roll my eyes, but he can’t see me.
“It’s pretty obvious you’ve got a hickey on your neck there.”
I peer at him over my shoulder. “I wasn’t trying to hide it.” I move to the next framed accomplishment on the wall.
“You dating someone?” He coughs and clears his through. “Someone you met in class or…”
I run my finger along the glass for an award claiming an undefeated season, leaving a line in the dust.
“You’re not seeing Theodore Web, I hope.”
I turn, place my hands on the bookshelf behind me and lean my ass against it in an attempt to appear casual. “Who?”
He cringes slightly.
Yes, daddy dearest, women can have casual, meaningless sex with nameless faces too.
“You told me to stay away from your players.” If he knew me at all, he’d know that kind of demand would only guarantee I do the opposite.
He exhales hard. “If you get involved with one of my players it puts them in a very difficult position, and in turn could hurt the team. I need to know you understand that.”
“Team first. I get it.” He made his loyalties painfully clear ten years ago.
He clears his throat and avoids my eyes by sorting through random papers on his desk. “So who’s the lucky guy and when do I get to meet him?”
There’s a knock on the door.
My dad’s jaw hardens and he barks, “What!”
One of his player’s peeks in, his gaze widening on me. I give him my most seductive smile. “S-sorry to interrupt but Doc Shaun wanted to talk to you about Rizzo’s knee.”
“I’m coming.” My dad walks to the door, but stops and hands me the truck keys. “Take the truck home. I’ll catch a ride with Coach Norburg.” He stops before walking out of his office. “If you plan to stay out all night like you did last night, let me know so I don’t worry.”
A burst of laughter leaves me lips. “Let’s not pretend like you’ve suddenly grown a heart.”
He runs a hand through his newly graying hair while staring at his feet. The man has perfected the wounded act. “At least
