Page 2

CHAPTER 2

Jett

I couldn’t focus for the rest of the game. All I wanted to do was go back into the trainer’s office, grab Damien, and take him home where I could properly take care of him. I couldn’t believe he was so fucking alone here. Sure, he had friends, but they were all fucking goofballs who didn’t take a damn thing seriously.

Damien needed someone to take care of him. And for longer than for just the time it would take for him to recover. Unfortunately, I couldn’t be that person for him, no matter how damn badly I wanted to be. Damien Michaels was off-fucking-limits. I was his coach, and it was literally against the school code to fraternize with a player or a student.

But knowing he truly was alone here, that he didn’t have family, made me ache . The need to take care of him was so visceral, it was nearly impossible to ignore.

Fuck me .

From the moment Damien had shown up on my court, I’d become intrigued by him. He was a damn good ball player with a huge bright future ahead of him. He was fucking brilliant, maintaining the highest GPA in his entire class, all while playing his heart out on the court day in and day out. He could’ve gone into the NBA long before now. Hell, he had scouts after him during his freshman year, but he turned them all down.

He said he needed a back-up plan in case he ever suffered a career ending injury, so he wanted to graduate college first. And that just made me want him more. I was highly attracted to men who were incredibly smart. And Damien had an abundance of intelligence.

After winning the game by a fucking hair, the loss of Damien felt throughout the rest of the game, and attending the press conference afterward, I went to snag Damien from the trainer’s office. I’d fielded so many questions about him tonight, and by the time the questions were over, I was ready to explode. Everyone was so insensitive about his illness and his concussion. All they cared about were the wins, the playoff games, and winning the fucking championship.

Honestly, fuck the championship. It wasn’t worth Damien’s health.

When I entered the trainer’s office, the trainer, Cassidy, was sitting at her desk, playing on her phone. Damien was passed out, his lips parted and a little bit of drool on his cheek. It was through sheer years of training myself not to react in Damien’s presence that kept me from smiling at him.

He was so damn adorable without even trying.

“You springing him?” Cassidy asked.

I nodded. “Yeah,” I answered, leaving it at that.

She nodded. “I gave him some ibuprofen near the end of halftime. He can have two more tablets in eight hours, but if his pain levels are bad enough, he can have Tylenol in four while still having the ibuprofen in eight. It’s just important that he alternates like that and not take them together if he’s going to be taking both. Ice for his head is important. For the COVID symptoms, all I can recommend is some over the counter medications.”

I nodded. “Thanks,” I told her.

She smiled and left the room, grabbing her bag on her way out. I gently tried rousing Damien, but it was almost useless. Sighing, I eyed the wheelchair in the corner. I had to get him out of here, and he was being a stubborn little ass about waking up.

“Damien,” I tried one more time. Thankfully this time, his eyelids slowly peeled open, and he peered up at me through glassy eyes. I ran my hand over his hair, being careful to avoid the bump on the back of his skull. “I need you to wake up so you can walk with me to my car,” I gently instructed.

He groaned but allowed me to pull him up into a sitting position. Slowly, he slid off the cot, stumbling a little and looking a little green. He swallowed, then leaned heavily on me. His skin was hot and sweaty, but he was already beginning to shiver despite it.

I needed to get him home.

“Come on,” I murmured, wrapping my arm around his shoulder. “Let’s get you to my place.”

He mumbled something I didn’t understand but allowed me to lead him from the trainer’s office on slow, unsteady feet.

* * *

My guest room wasn’t set up for anyone to stay over. The bed was unmade, and it hadn’t been properly cleaned in ages, so I put Damien up in my bedroom despite the alarm bells ringing in my head as I did so. Already, his scent had infiltrated my car, and now, he would be in my bedroom, his scent lingering on my sheets and pillows.

I was fucking myself over slowly but surely, but I couldn’t bring myself to stop the trainwreck happening.

When it came to Damien, I was just a glutton for punishment. Clearly.

After tucking him into bed and placing juice on the nightstand for him to drink if he woke up, I headed into my bathroom, desperately needing a shower. And not just because I was sweaty from running back and forth across the court and shouting at my players but because I needed to clear my fucking head.

All I could think about was Damien, and if I didn’t do something about this need for him pulsing through my veins, I was going to do something very fucking stupid.

Like propositioning him when he was awake. And if the way he constantly eyed me with lust-filled needy eyes was anything to go by, he’d one hundred percent be down for that.

And that could not happen. Not only would it get me fired, but it could kill his chances of getting into the NBA. He could get kicked out of school. An affair—hell, even just one fucking night—could ruin his entire life.

I wouldn’t do that to him.

My shoulders heaved as I sighed and leaned my forearm on the tile in front of me. The water pounded down on my back as I gripped my cock in my hands. Just something quick. All I needed was a little bit of release to get my head back on straight.

I muffled my groan against my arm as I slicked my hand over my thick cock, my eyes closed as I pictured Damien pressed up against the shower wall while I fucked him. While I took what I wanted from him and gave him everything he’d been silently begging for since he’d joined the damn Rustin Loggerheads basketball team.

The sound of the bathroom door squeaking open had me snapping out of my daze, and I jerked my gaze over toward the entrance, my eyes clashing with Damien’s brown ones.

Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!

“Jett…” Damien rasped, his voice low and raspy from being sick. But there was an undercurrent of need there. His nostrils flared, his pupils blew wide, and he licked his lips. His own cock quickly filled out, tenting his basketball shorts just a bit despite his underwear more than likely mostly keeping him contained.

If he didn’t leave, I was going to do something very fucking stupid .

I couldn’t goddamn deny him when he was looking at me like that.

“Damien…” I growled, his name a warning.

When his trembling fingers reached for my hoodie that he was still wearing, the last bit of my restraint and every shred of my control snapped .

I was going to ruin everything .

And I couldn’t even bring myself to fucking care.