Page 4 of Hidden Plays (Desert Football #1)

TWO

HOLDEN

I needed intel on JJ. No way would I let that fucker get to me this year. About an hour before practice, I strolled to the door of Coach Barlow’s office, our offensive line coordinator, and knocked on the open door. These guys were always here early.

Coach looked up from his open laptop, resting on his desk. “Cox, what can I do you for?” He gave a smile that wrinkled the corners of his brown eyes, his dark hair cut short and gelled.

“I have a few questions.” I stepped inside the office, scanning the rich dark wood of his desk and the bookshelf behind him and the tall, leafy plant. The football coaches always had the best offices. But then, ASU was a top team in its division. The organization had substantial funding.

“Sure, ask me anything. We need to work closely together this season.” Widening his grin, Coach leaned backward, tilting his black leather desk chair, and rested his head against his threaded hands.

“Okay.” I dropped into a chair opposite him and pursed my lips. How the hell could I start this conversation? Maybe from the beginning. “So, Matthews and I have a history.”

“You both played at Desert Mountain, I know.” He pitched forward, focusing on me and planting his forearms on his desk. “Something tells me you think your history will be a problem.”

Raising my brows, I took a deep breath. “I don’t know if it will. I’m anticipating how he’ll react to me training him, and I want to prepare so I can stop any problems in their tracks.” Because JJ could be a stubborn son of a bitch. Let alone, he just rubbed me the wrong way.

“Tell me what happened in high school. You were his quarterback, and the team did well that year. If a quarterback isn’t getting along with a receiver, that’s no good.” He twisted his lips.

“Yeah, we sort of held it together for the team’s sake.

But he’s…” I glanced at the picture on the wall of Coach on the field holding a trophy.

How much should I say? “I’m not sure he’ll want to take direction from me.

” Rubbing my damp palms along my athletic shorts, I said, “I think he blames me for not getting MVP in his junior year.” I furrowed my brows.

“He might think it was because he’s gay and was out.

” Swallowing hard, I gauged Coach’s reaction.

“He might think I didn’t pass to him on purpose.

” But fuck, what was I supposed to do? Pass to him when a better opportunity presented itself?

Keep my opinions about his over-the-top behavior to myself? Everyone saw it.

“This team welcomes gay players.” He leaned in closer. “Did you do those things?”

“I…no.” I worried my lower lip. “I think JJ was overcompensating for something that year.” Although he was a skilled player, he still needed to mature.

“He’s uh, he was immature. He accused me of not passing to him when he was open, but I made the right decisions.

” Fuck, did I sound like I was the asshole?

He straightened. “I’ll admit, Matthews is still growing into his ego, but he’s much better than he was coming into the program. He’s more of a team player now.”

Nodding, I said, “Okay, so maybe this is a non-issue.” I rocked once, glancing at the open laptop. “If I have problems, though, can I bring them to you, so you can address them?” There was the big ask.

While he studied me for a moment, a grin teased his lips. “If you’ll be working with athletes in your career, you’ll encounter egos of all sizes, and you won’t always have a coach to lean on. So, I believe working this out on your own will be good for you.”

I stared at him. Fuck, that wasn’t what I wanted to hear, but I understood his point. “Okay, do you have any suggestions?” He couldn’t leave me hanging here.

“Yeah, how about I assign you to him directly? If you’re having problems with him, talk it out.” He shrugged. “I don’t know. Gain his trust. Take him to lunch. Get to know him.” His grin widened. “Make sure his hip doesn’t cause any problems this season. That’s your mission.”

“Sure, okay.” Fuck. This conversation had backfired. I clenched my jaw. Lunch with JJ would be like ripping my hair out. But I’d do it. “I’ll take good care of him, Coach.”

“I’m counting on you.” His gaze dropped to his laptop. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some footage to analyze before we hit the field today.”

“Yep, see you out there.” Slapping my hands on my thighs, I rose and walked through the doorway. If I could address all the high school issues openly, maybe JJ and I could reach an understanding, and this season wouldn’t suck for me.

As I stepped onto the practice field, air-conditioned and covered by a fabric dome, I spied Matthews chatting with Carter and tossing a ball, both in full gear except for helmets.

Thank fuck, this place offered a dome to practice in.

Being as it was mid-September, it was still hot as hell.

The home games would be brutal until October. “Hey, Matthews.”

He turned, his gaze catching mine, and he scowled .

Great start to our session. This wouldn’t be easy. Stepping to him, I said, “Did you look at the stretches I gave you?” I held my iPad to my chest.

“I did. I don’t see how they’re any better than what Stacey has me doing.” He lifted his chin.

Heat filtered through my chest. “Is it too much to ask for you to try them before you shit on them?” Damn it, he already had me on edge.

“Why fix what ain’t broke?” He threw me a nasty smirk.

Carter flicked his gaze from me to Matthews. “Oh, boy.” With a snicker, he said, “I’ll leave you two to your lover’s quarrel.” He bounded off toward the other players, milling around the sideline and waiting for the coaches’ instructions.

Lover’s quarrel? What the fuck had Matthews been saying about me? “What was that about?” I pointed my thumb in Carter’s direction.

“Nothing. Just his way of putting things.” Matthews stepped closer to me. “Why, did it unleash your inner homophobe?”

Freeing a huff, I said, “I’m not homophobic. Not everything is about your sexuality. Get over yourself.” This would be impossible. But I had to try. “I’d like you to perform the stretches daily.”

“Yeah, whatever. But if they don’t work and my game suffers, then what?” He eyed me. “It’s my senior year. I can’t afford to be sidelined by a shitty trainer.”

I glared at him. “I’m not a shitty trainer.” Poking my finger at his chest, I said, “Take that back.”

“Damn, you still have a temper.” With a snicker, he cocked his head. “Who’s the immature one now? Isn’t that what you said about me?”

Gritting my teeth, I twisted around and forced the fire in my veins to calm.

I had to be the bigger man. As I turned, I said, “Listen, I’m assigned to you this season.

So, like it or not, we have to work together.

” Was getting to know him over a meal the only option?

“Let’s go to lunch this week to resolve it. ” I grimaced despite myself.

“Lunch? With you?” He raised his brows, the corners of his lips curling. “Fuck no. I’m not that easy. I need a few nice text conversations before I commit to that.”

“It’s not a fucking date.” My hands fisted. Now he’ll accuse me of being homophobic again, damn it.

“No?” He stepped around me, circling and looking me up and down. “That’s a shame, because you sure have a fine ass.”

I balked. “What did you say to me?” I covered my ass with my hands. Was he harassing me?

“You heard me.” He stopped behind me, cupped his chin, and waggled his brows. “You’re asking me to lunch, and I’m gay, so I might be a little confused about your intentions. Maybe you’ve decided I was worth switching teams?—”

“Matthews and Cox, get over here.” Frowning, Coach Barlow stood on the field with a group of guys around him.

Glancing at Coach, I snatched Mathews’ arm and through my teeth said, “I’m only asking you to lunch because Coach thought it would be good for us to work shit out over a meal. That’s it.”

“Fine.” He tore his arm from my grasp. “Five Guys around noon?” He arched a brow.

“Works for me.” Fuck, I was really doing this. I followed him to the group of offensive line players. I didn’t know what the hell I’d say to him.

Fuck, I was five minutes late already. I glanced at the time on my phone.

How the hell could I know the professor would keep us late today?

I strode down Mill Avenue past brick buildings and under short trees when I could find them, the sun beating on my head and shoulders, a sheen of sweat covering my skin.

JJ would deride me over the time. I was sure of it.

As I came to the glass door of the burger joint, I opened it and stepped into a rush of cool air. Relief. I scanned the restaurant and hitched my backpack higher on my shoulder.

From a corner table near the window, JJ waved, with a meal sitting before him.

He’d ordered without me. Did he think I wouldn’t show? I gave him a quick up-nod and ordered a burger and fries at the counter. After pouring an iced tea at the soda fountain, I grabbed my food and approached JJ. “Hey, sorry I’m late. My professor in my public health class kept us over.”

“Yeah, whatever. I figured you chickened out.” He opened his bag and unwrapped a burger. “Sit down and let’s get this over with.”

I pulled a chair from the table and sat across from him, glancing out the window at the ever-present traffic along the boulevard and students strolling between classes. After setting my backpack on the floor, I sighed. I’d been wracking my brain to figure out how to start this conversation and?—

“What have the last four years been like for you?” He bit into his burger, and juice dribbled down his chin. Swiping it with his tongue, he picked up his drink.