Page 3

Oliver

When I came out of the locker room, I had to dodge a million questions from my teammates. I easily lied and said I got a cramp and needed to stretch, which most of them accepted. The ones who didn’t take my excuse at face value don’t have the guts to call me out on my bullshit. Despite most of them knowing something more than a cramp got me worked up, they were thankful for the long break and were ready to resume practice when I got back.

As soon as I step onto the court, I’m fully prepared for Coach White to call me over. I was even expecting the way his jaw is set and how his brow furrows in annoyance. It’s a look I’ve seen when a referee makes a shitty call, or when someone on the team disregards his instructions, but that expression has never been directed at me before.

“What’s up, Coach?” I ask, deciding to keep this casual. He’s great at his job, but he can be a bit of a hothead. I’ve already poked the bear enough.

“That was some stunt you pulled with Jenna,” he says, his eyes narrowing. “You wanna explain yourself, Harmon?”

“Nothing to explain,” I say with a shrug. “I said I was giving her pointers. That’s all it was.”

“Bullshit,” he spits, keeping his voice dangerously low so my teammates can’t overhear our conversation. He steps in closer, and even though he has to look up to maintain eye contact, I can’t deny that he’s a little intimidating. “That’s bullshit and you know it, Harmon. Now I’m going to ask you straight. What the hell are your intentions with my daughter?”

I want to marry her , I think. And I want to make her call me Daddy while I fuck her within an inch of her life .

That answer won’t go over very well, though.

Instead, I double down on my story. I keep my posture straight and as relaxed as I can manage as I say, “I don’t have any intentions, Coach. I was just giving her some pointers. As a professional. That’s all that was.”

“Right,” he scoffs, clearly not believing a word out of my mouth. Smart man. “Is there a reason you couldn’t have had that conversation courtside?”

“I didn’t want to disturb my teammates during their break,” I reply with a shrug, knowing I’m digging myself into a deep hole, but I’ve already committed, and if there’s one thing about me, I see things through to the end. “Just trying to be respectful.”

Coach’s face deepens in a crimson color and his jaw clenches even tighter, but I stand my ground.

“Respectful,” he mutters. “Do you think I’m a fucking idiot?”

“No, sir,” I reply, and that’s the full truth. I do respect Coach, and I know he’s not stupid. He’s a great coach, a great mentor, but with Jenna, I’m willing to die fighting.

He laughs, cold and humorless. “Really? Because you’re talking to me like I’m one. I know you didn’t just drag my daughter off to give her pointers. Your teammates had to go looking for you, Harmon. I don’t know what the fuck you were doing, and quite frankly I don’t want to, but I know for damn sure you weren’t ‘giving her pointers.’”

Well, maybe not about basketball.

When I don’t respond, he smirks. Apparently not saying anything gave him all the confirmation he needed. He knows I’m guilty, but I refuse to give him an admission. I keep my mouth stubbornly closed and my face completely blank.

“Look, Harmon,” Coach White says after a long pause. He crosses his arms over his chest, staring me down in what is clearly an attempt to make me back down. “I like you; I do. And I don’t give a shit who you stick your dick in.” His eyes rake over my body as a hint of disgust settles on his face. “But Jenna? She’s off limits,” he says. “Got it?”

Despite my best efforts, my teeth grind together. I’m pretty level-headed, most of the time. I didn’t get to where I am today without being a little cold and calculating, but explicitly telling me that I can’t have the woman of my dreams? That’s officially one of the top five ways of getting under my fucking skin.

“I don’t think that’s up to you to decide,” I say, my voice calm as fire burns hot in my chest. “She’s an adult, and so am I.” When he scoffs, I continue. “You’re my coach. You can tell me what to do on the court. When it comes to my personal life, you have no authority. Even if I was interested in your daughter, it’s none of your business.”

He laughs, loud and derisive. It’s loud enough that it can be heard over the squeak of shoes on the court. I can feel my teammates' eyes on us, but that isn’t enough to make me back down. Let them see.

“That’s the thing, Harmon,” Coach White says after a few moments, letting his volume drop low enough that I have to lean in to hear what he says next. “I’m your coach. That means your career, everything you’ve worked for… that’s in my hands.”

“What are you saying?” I growl, working my jaw as I clench my hands into fists at my sides. “Because it sounds like you’re extorting me.”

“Is that what you’d call this?” he asks, tilting his head to the side. “Don’t I get something out of extortion? I’m just ensuring that the members of my team are focused on the game. I think it would be well within my rights to terminate a player who’s cutting practice in pursuance of girl he knows nothing about. Don’t you think?”

“Are you threatening to kick me off the team if I pursue Jenna?” I ask, my tone lethal.

There’s conviction in his eyes, a kind of determination that nestles itself there when he’s giving us a pre-game speech. He means what he’s saying. In fact, I bet he’s never meant something more before in his life.

“It’s not a threat, Harmon,” he says, rolling his shoulders back. I narrow my eyes at him as he prepares for the final blow, a blow that isn’t going to land as hard as he hopes it will—because I’ve already made up my mind. I’d let my world burn to the ground if it meant I was left standing with Jenna at my side. “If you find yourself distracted by my daughter again, you won’t have a place on this team anymore.”

Part of me wants to call his bluff. He wants to win this championship as badly as I do. But Jennia is his daughter. She’s no doubt more important to him than the damn title.

Fuck, she’s more important to me than the title. As intense as my hunger for that win is, my hunger for Jenna is even more all-consuming. I’m willing to risk it all for her, even if Coach White is willing to take that same risk.

So, with that in mind, I look my coach square in the face and say, “Okay.”

He seems content with that answer, though the fire is still in his eyes. His eyes finally drift away from me and over to where the rest of the team is still running drills. With an authoritative tone, he says, “Now get back out there, Harmon. I’d hate to see you falling behind.”

I nod, turning around to head back to the court. There’s no reason to say anything else. It’s best that he thinks I’m going along with his demands. But, for the rest of practice, I look forward to having Jenna to myself later. By the time she gets to my place, I’ll have a foolproof plan for making her mine. What her father thinks be damned.