Page 122 of Let You Love Me

I jog off the field, hit the locker room quickly, then make my way into his office. The stitches tug and pull at the palm of my hand as I give the door a quick knock before entering.

Coach’s tanned face lifts and he waves me in, folding his arms over the desk in front of him while he studies me like one of the plays in his playbook.

“Nichols,” he nods toward the chair across from him, “have a seat.”

I do as he asks, watching as he leans back in his chair. “How’s the hand?”

“Fine, sir,” I say, silently cursing the way my stomach ties itself in knots. I might have known this was coming, but it doesn’t make it any easier.

Hell, he had me do ten extra sets of bleacher runs and one hundred push-ups after practice, and I’d do it all thrice more if it meant I could skip this confrontation altogether.

Coach sighs and scrubs a hand down his face. “Listen, Nichols, this isn’t personal. Most coaches in the league would give you a warning and move on. Maybe that’s what I should do, too, but I like to think I’m different. I care about my team. I value respect and hard work and personal responsibility. I’m not just trying to grow great football players, but great young men, too, and I don’t think I need to remind you that you shouldn’t be drinking during the in-season. And you sure as hell shouldn’t have alcohol in your locker, especially when you’re underage.”

I clear my throat, sensing this is my cue to say something. “With all due respect, sir, the booze wasn’t mine. I know that’s hard to believe. It makes little to no sense considering very few people have access to our combinations, so I know how bad this looks, but it’s the truth.”

He stares at me for a moment like he’s trying to decide whether to believe me. “I’ve seen drugs and alcohol ruin lives. I’ve also seen a lot of people in my time claim they didn’t have a problem when they did. Denial can be a very powerful mental game you play with yourself.”

I scoff. “You think I’m lying?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. Only you know the truth, but what I do know is that this is your second warning this season” He leans forward in his chair and picks a pen up off his desk, tappingit on the smooth hard surface. “And if you get another, well, it won’t bode well for you. I’ve seen this happen before. A kid with talent starts getting in trouble here or there, just minor things, but each one worse than the last. Next thing you know, they’re getting busted for something they can’t crawl out of, and their ass is off the team. I’d hate to see that happen here. You have a lot of talent, Nichols. I don’t want to see you waste it, and I’d like to be the one to help you reach your full potential. With a QB like Lockhart at your disposal”?he shakes his head? “well, the sky’s the limit.”

I grind my teeth.Fucking Lockhart.If Coach only knew what a dirty rat I suspect him to be. I’d love nothing more than to burst his bubble, but I suspect it would take a lot to make him doubt his protégé.

I’ve stewed over everything that happened since last night, and now more than ever, I’m certain it must’ve been him who planted the booze in my locker. The only thing I can’t seem to piece together iswhyhe did it. I’m not a threat to his spot on the team and I haven’t given him any trouble on the field. The only thing I’m guilty of is spending time with Lane, so I have to assume there’s a connection. He must know we’re seeing each other and he’s jealous.

But why not simply rat me out to Coach?

It’s the only part of the argument I don’t have an answer for.

I clear my throat, sensing Coach wants acknowledgment. “Yes, sir. I can assure you nothing else will happen.”

He taps the pen on the desk again, eyeing me over a stack of papers. “On a personal note, I know you’ve been spending time with Lane and Sophie.”

Oh shit.

I stiffen, every muscle in my body rigid as I wait to see where this is going.

“She seems to value your friendship,” he says, and the tight line of his mouth tells me he’s none too pleased about it. “Lane doesn’t trust easily, so I can only assume by inviting you into Sophie’s life she trusts you. Don’t break that trust. And keep it . . .friendly.As long as you can do that and remain respectful, no drinking or funny business, we shouldn’t have a problem.”

My jaw clenches so hard my teeth ache.

I’m fucking falling for this girl, and her father—my coach—loathes me so much he feels the need to issue me a warning.

Fucking fantastic.

“I can assure you, I have nothing but the best of intentions where your daughter and granddaughter are concerned.”

He leans back in his chair once more, eyeing me beneath a knitted brow. “I’m glad to hear that.” Another couple taps on his desk and he says, “I think we’re finished here.”

“Yes, sir.” I rise to my feet and exit Coach’s office so fast, my head spins.

I’m not more than a few feet down when a hand clamps over my shoulder. I glance up to find Tommy hovering outside, his features twisted in concern. With a lift of his chin, he says, “Hey, a bunch of us are headed to Slice. You wanna join?”

I glance behind me, then back to him again and shrug. “I’ll hang for a bit.” The truth is the only place I want to be is wherever Lane is, but that isn’t an option. Not with her at her parents’ house tonight and me on Coach’s shit list, so pizza with the boys is about as good as it’s going to get. If I go back to the dorm, all I’ll do is either miss her or stew over the whole booze-in-my-locker thing.

“Come on.” We exit the tunnels and step out into the cool evening air when I feel Tommy glancing my way. “I haven’t seen you since yesterday.” He hooks a thumb back the way we just came. “How’d that go?”

“It wasn’t fucking mine, man.” I shove my hands in my pockets as I try to smother the urge to defend myself further.