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Papa Chéri
Are the girls with you?
Yes coach 2
I groan loudly, scrubbing a hand down my face. It’s beenoneday, and she’s already causing trouble for me.
Papa Chéri
I’m sorry, what was that?
Are you saying Rafael is too?!
Elise, please answer me.
I am but an old man with a weary soul and a daughter who’s trying to KILL me. Please tell me where you are.
And confirm that my team captain isn’t snogging you!
I was mostly kidding but now I’m not. Please just tell me you’re safe.
I hand her phone back to her, tilting my head at the messages. “You better respond before he files a missing person report.”
Her glacier-blue eyes roam over the screen, rolling at a few of her dad’s overprotective messages, before she types out a quick message that I don’t get to see, and then she turns her body away, shielding her phone from me.
When she’s finished, she smacks the mobile down on the sticky counter and turns to face me. “Are you happy now?” she asks through gritted teeth.
“Not remotely, though I never am,” I say, the admission shocking me. With any luck, she won’t remember this tomorrow, but frankly, she seems to have made a full recovery. She’ll probably remember every word of this conversation.
She searches my face, her lips pinched together. The attention leaves me feeling exposed.
“Let’s get something clear, shall we?” she asks, a sharp brow arched in question.
I don’t have a chance to respond before she's forcefully shoving me out of the seat, rolling her eyes at me. “You’re myinterimcoach, not mydaddy.Don’t keep tabs on me, and definitely don’t tell my father about anything I do outside of practice.”
I’m too stunned to say anything as she heads out onto the dance floor, and for the first time tonight, I get the full view of her outfit.
Tight black leather pants hug her every curve. Her round ass bounces as she struts away, and her waist is cinched by a corset that I’d love to tear off with my fucking teeth.If she were anyone else in this club, I just might.My dick stands at attention for her, the combination of the venom in her words and the skintight outfit sending my body into a frenzy.
Nakoa catches my attention as he heads over to me, dragging me from my ungentlemanly thoughts. “You ready to get out of here? I hear Coach’s kid is a handful, and I’d rather not be a part of that,” he explains.
“Yep, good call,” I answer, standing and adjusting myself in my pants before gathering up the guys and heading out of the packed club.
I have no explanation for why I drove back to the club after dropping my teammates off at home. I spoke to the bouncer to make sure they took an Uber home before finally making it home and crashing with Mrs. Purrito sitting like a comforting weighted blanket on my chest, her thunderous purrs lulling me to sleep.
CHAPTER SIX
FRIDAY, MARCH 28
I knew juggling coachingthe Blaze and continuing my duties as the Wyvern’s team captain would be a challenge, but today I’m finding out how true that is.
Iwantto be upset about how tired I am, how my muscles are fatigued, and how I’ve already spent so much of my energy on a game that isn’t mine to win, but I can’t—and it’s infuriating. I haven’t been able to enjoy watching football inyears,but Elise was on fire today. Every pass, every move she made—it was like watching a goddamn highlight reel.
With the way she teases me, trying to get a rise out of me, I shouldn’t have enjoyed it as much as I did. The truth is that with every day I watch these young women train, it works to rekindlesome of my love for the sport I once thought I’d spend the rest of my life playing.
The whistle blows, and the game kicks off. I move into position, lining up for the throw-in. I’m meant to be quick, but my body’s not responding like it usually does. I bend to hook the ball, but there’s a moment’s hesitation, enough for the throw to go off-target, just enough to piss me off. My team keeps moving, but I feel like I’m stuck in place, sluggish.
One of the forwards gives me a look, waiting for a signal, but I don’t have it in me to give him anything right now. I bark out the call, possibly sounding too harsh, but I can’t help it. I’m annoyed at myself, at this feeling of beingoff,like I’m not where I need to be. The tension between us is thin, and I hate that I’ve let it creep in.