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SIXTEEN

BECCA

All weekend, I’ve been hoping this feeling that tugs me toward Eli would disappear now that I’ve given in, but it hasn’t. And Lord, did I give in. I knew I would the second he stormed through the bathroom door and gripped my throat like he owned me. His filthy words whispered in my ear and the way his strong hand pressed on my pulse were intoxicating, and I’ve always been a sucker for someone who can go head-to-head with me.

I thought sex would be the water to our fire but turns out it was gasoline, and I realized I was in trouble the second I laid in bed, reaching my hand up to my neck, desperate to recreate the feel of being under his palm. Even worse, he wants to be friends, and like a dumbass, I agreed, still dick-drunk and not able to think through the orgasm fog.

My thoughts are only reaffirmed as I stand with the other student managers while Eli talks. The rest of the team is huddled, sitting on the cold wood floor, eyes rapt on the man in front of them.

He has this way of grabbing the energy in the room and controlling it without any effort, almost like it can’t help but want to sink into his skin and stay there for a while.

Unfortunately, I can relate.

His hands are on his hips, and his gaze moves over every player while he talks.

I came prepared for the excitement of seeing the team come together and practice; however, I am not prepared for how my heart swells while Eli stands in front of them, his passion pouring out on the floor.

“Let’s get this out of the way so we never have to bring it up again. I’m Elliot Carson, for those of you who don’t know me.”

“Everyone knows you, Coach,” a player calls out.

People laugh, and Eli rubs a hand on the back of his neck.

My skin prickles with jealousy that he’s feeling the touch I crave.

“Maybe so.” He grins. “In any case, I played ball in Ohio, then was drafted to New York. I was hurt, and unfortunately, it ended my career. I don’t really have much to say about it other than things happen for a reason. If I wasn’t injured, I wouldn’t be here to coach you guys, and I’m damn thankful I have the opportunity to be at your back.”

“It wasn’t your dream to play?” another player asks.

“It was. But…” Eli nods, his gaze locking on to mine. “You can’t always have the thing you want most. Sometimes, no matter how bad you want it…it’s just not meant to be.”

I suck in a breath, my heart pinching so tight and my stomach flipping so fast I’m worried I’ll pass out.

His eyes linger before he finally breaks our stare. “Anyway, that’s enough about me, I’d rather focus on you. Some of you have been here. You’ve put your blood, sweat, and tears onto this court every day. You’ve earned your spot on this team and the respect of your peers. I want you to know, I’ll do the same. Respect is earned, and I’ll work every day to prove I’m worthy of it. For the new kids…look to your upperclassmen and get ready. Division One is where the big boys eat. We don’t care if you were late to turn in an assignment and we don’t fuck around with excuses. That’s on you. When you’re here, you need to be focused. There’s no downtime. No life of glitz and glamour. It’s just you, the hardwood, and your determination. Everything you do, every move you make is a direct reflection of this team and we expect you to represent us appropriately.”

The players nod along. They look eager. Like they’re soaking up his words and wanting to prove to him they can be what he’s asking.

He may want to earn their respect, but to me, it looks like he already has it.

“Coach Andrews and I will ask a lot of you, and sometimes you’ll hate us. You’ll want to give in to that voice in your mind, spinning lies to make your failures sound sweet.” He shakes his head. “Don’t do it. I promise if you put your head down and grind every day, push through the pain and the doubts, then we’ll do all we can to help you reach your full potential. Together, we’ll bring home the championship, and it will be my honor to watch you grow into your greatness.”

All of the players hoot and holler, and Coach Andrews claps him on the back as he takes over. A hint of a grin graces Eli’s face as he walks to the side. I watch him, mesmerized, wondering what it would feel like to be loved as much as Elliot Carson loves the game.

The rest of practice is intense. One player throws up and goes back to drills like it’s normal . Another pulls a hamstring and continues to practice through it.

But watching Eli in his element is something else. He’s fierce.

Sadness flows from my head to my heart, squeezing my chest at the thought that I never took the time to watch him play growing up, or even after he was gone. I bet he was a thing of beauty.

I’m still lost in thoughts of why I never saw him play long after everyone has left. I’ve got my earbuds in as I place the basketballs back in the rolling cart, and honestly, this gig is better than I expected. So far, most of my job is just ticking things off a list.

Bending to pick up the last ball, I jump out of my skin when large hands reach down beside me and grab it before I can. I jerk up, coming face to chest with Eli. That damn cinnamon smell slams into me, making my stomach clench, and I move my gaze upward, taking out my earbuds as I meet his eyes. They sparkle with something sinful, and I have to bite back the urge to demand he put his tongue somewhere—anywhere—on me.

“Almost done?” He quirks a brow.

My palms go to my hips. “I was, until some big head came in and tried to distract me.”

He smirks, tossing the ball into the cart with one hand, his eyes never leaving mine. Show-off. “You hungry?”

My stomach flips at his question. You’d think I’d never hung out with a man before. I do want to, but I know I shouldn’t.

“I don’t know…”

“Come on. I don’t bite.”

“I beg to differ,” I quip before I can stop myself.

Eli’s eyes darken, the smirk sliding off his face. “Only one way to find out.”

His voice is deeper. Huskier. A thrill zips down my spine and settles in between my legs.

I reach for my hair, grabbing my neck instead when I realize it’s in a bun. “Ain’t there some rule against it, anyway? Won’t it look bad for you to be seen with me?”

He shrugs. “Probably. I don’t know. I guess I didn’t think of it that way. I just thought maybe we could talk about how today went. How you thought I did with them. That’s all.” His jaw clenches as he slightly shakes his head. “It’s stupid. I’ll just call Connor.”

Surprise filters through me because, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was nervous. He seems almost vulnerable. Or maybe I’m just projecting the emotions I try to hide. Either way, it softens something in my chest, and I can’t find it in me to say no, even though we both know I should.

“Okay.”

His posture relaxes, and he bites his lip as he grins.

A thousand fireflies light up my stomach.

This is not a smart decision.

But it’s never felt so good to act so dumb.