“You’re not my boyfriend. I don’t need you going all territorial, and I don’t need you to fight my battles,” I say, poking him in the chest for good measure. Fat lot of good it does because, shoulder pads.
“I know you don’t need me to fight your battles, but I wasn’t going to stand there and let some douchebag disrespect you.” He presses his lips flat, the hard set of his jaw like granite. “Or the team.”
“Call me crazy, but I doubt you would’ve reacted so strongly if he’d been talking about Coop. Or Vaughn. Or basically anyone but me.”
His silence confirms my suspicions. Because despite the rules we’ve set, I’m not just one of the guys. And neither is he. I start to reach for him and catch myself, my hand freezing in midair.
“This is exactly what I didn’t want. What Coach didn’t want. Maybe we should call it quits.” I pull my hand back and rake it through my hair, tucking loose strands behind my ear. “I know we said the end of the season, but if Saturday night is any indication, things between us are already getting too messy. Neither of us can afford the distraction, and I don’t want to be responsible for screwing up your season.”
“Fuck that,” he says, slashing his left hand through the air. He takes a breath and closes his eyes, gathering his composure before he speaks again. “We aren’t hurting anyone, and the situation Saturday night was a onetime deal. It changes nothing between us.”
“Doesn’t it? You took a swing at some guy because you didn’t like what he said about me. Pretty sure that’s a game changer.” It’s sweet that Austin wanted to defend my honor, but it doesn’t change the fact that maybe we’re getting in too deep.
“It won’t happen again,” he assures me, blue eyes flaring with determination. “I was upset about the guys getting the recruits drunk. I let my temper get the best of me.”
“I don’t know. Seeing Coach fired up today…” I bite my lip. “We’re taking a big risk.”
“Trust me, today was nothing,” he says, tracing a finger along my jawline. There’s a tenderness in his eyes, in the way he studies my face, that I haven’t noticed before. My pulse leaps in response, and I curse my traitorous mind for imagining meaning that isn’t there. “Besides, it’s not that big a risk. We aren’t breaking NCAA rules.” He lifts my chin, forcing me to meet his smoldering gaze. “I’m not ready to give you up yet, and I don’t think you’re ready to give me up either. The way you scream my name? There isn’t another man on campus who can give you that kind of pleasure. And I think you know it, don’t you, gorgeous?”
“Yes,” I agree, hating the breathless sound of my voice. Problem is, he’s right. I’m not ready to go back to the way things were. Not yet, anyway. My body is already protesting at the mere suggestion. “But we have to be more careful. No more unnecessary risks.”
Austin grins down at me, his dimple sending my racing heart into overdrive. “You worry too much. We aren’t going to get caught.”
Chapter Eighteen
Austin
“Reid. My office. Ten minutes.” Coach barks the order and turns on his heel without waiting for a reply.
Fuuuck. What now? I had a good practice. The team’s looking solid, and everyone’s well rested coming off the bye week. The team’s been on virtual lockdown since Monday’s practice. No way have any of the guys had time to get into trouble. Besides, he wouldn’t give me ten minutes to clean up if he was really pissed. And he probably would’ve made practice a living hell. Sure, it was rough, but no worse than usual.
I strip off my pads and notice Coop eyeing the bruise on my right side. It’s nearly faded, but it’s still ugly as shit.
“Still a lot of games to play,” Coop says, sliding his helmet into his locker. His tone is neutral, but we’ve been friends long enough I can read the tension in his shoulders and in the pinched corners of his mouth. Something’s bothering him. “Maybe do the rest of us a favor and get rid of the ball next time. Better to lose a down than a QB.”
I grit my teeth. It was a late hit and he knows it, but that isn’t the point. Even if the refs had called it, I’d still be banged up. I know he’s right. Smart players don’t take unnecessary risks, not when it could blow the whole season. Problem is, when I’m on the field and the adrenaline’s pumping, I have to be the best. There’s no other option. Sometimes that means making the play, the hell with the risk.
This time, it paid off. We won the game. No point sweating what-ifs. But I can’t say that to Coop. It wouldn’t be very captainly and I sure as shit wouldn’t accept that answer from one of my guys.
“Duly noted.”
He just nods, and I head for the shower. Clock’s ticking, and Coach won’t tolerate lateness. Especially from me.
I make it to his office without a minute to spare. He’s sitting behind his desk, flipping through the grade book. I didn’t do as well as I should have on my midterms, but my grades are decent. Doesn’t stop a sheen of sweat from rising on my forehead.
“Coach.”
He closes the grade book and leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest and giving nothing away. I wait him out. If one of my guys is about to get benched for grades, I’ll know it soon enough.
“I’ve been getting a lot of calls from scouts this week. You played a hell of a game against Ohio.” He pauses. “There are a lot of guys who want to come out and see you play.
