Not her.
Hell. No.My fists clenched at my sides, my heart raced way past the point of comfort, and I contemplated a million ways to kill him. But, that wouldn't help my goals, and I was that tenacious, annoying person who, when told they couldn’t do something, determined to prove others wrong.
He’d judged me. Entirely incorrectly, but a judgment all the same. Maybe he remembered me from the bar. Sure, I tried flirting after a dare from my best friend, and he made it clear he wasn't interested. Quite clear. If he remembered me from that night, it didn’t bode well for me. It wasn’t like I threw myself at him. I just offered to buy him a drink, and after a quick look up and down, he laughed and said absolutely not. Shame and regret clogged my throat.
Without waiting to hear what else was said, I took life by the balls. I had learned from a young age that I had to fight for what I wanted in life. Happiness? That was a choice I had to work at every day. I sensed my mom cheering for me from above when I pounded on the door, hard.
The voices stopped, someone letting out a curse. Then, the door opened. Brad grimaced at my expression. I had been told I had a fire in my eyes when I got pissed. I had more than fire right now. It was a raging inferno. “As much as I enjoyed your polite, pleasant conversation, I earned the internship.”
Brock Asshole Anderson stared me down.
If he wanted to see me squirm, that was too damn bad. I crossed my arms and raised my eyebrows in challenge.
Victor, clearly not the alpha in this situation, gave me a quick nod and strolled out. “We'll talk later, Brock.”
That left me and him. He blinked at me, assessing me, sighing so deeply it took a minute for it to leave his lungs. He had to have massive lungs, right? He was massive. Or perhaps he was just a massive asshole.
“Don't wear that here.” He scolded my carefully planned outfit—a professional black dress—and my skin tingled with embarrassment. “Wear team gear.”
He continued, “Be here every day at seven. You'll have a quick lunch, and the time changes every day. You'll leave at four.” He moved from the doorway to sit at his desk, shuffling through papers.
I cringed. My classes began at four Tuesdays and Thursdays, but I was not going to give him any excuse. I hoped my professors accepted me being tardy, or I would be screwed.
“Okay.”
“Once games start, you're expected at every home and away game. I'll have my secretary print you a schedule. If you're late once, you're done.” He looked up, eyes smoldering. “Absolutely none of the flirting shit or dating any of the players. Is that clear?”
“Yes,” I croaked, still shocked at his crassness. His words erased any doubt over whether he remembered that night. But I wouldn’t acknowledge it. I remained at the door frame, awkward, uncomfortable, angry, and sweaty. I chewed on my bottom lip, unsure what to do. His jaw clenched, his gaze briefly going to my mouth. It was so quick, I almost missed it.
He cleared his throat, darting his gaze to the chair in front of him. “Sit.”
I obeyed like a desperate, foolishly hopeful girl. I needed, wanted,dreamedof this chance. He would not ruin it. It was only four months. I could put up with the Asshole for four months. “We'll do a tour of the stadium today after we set some ground rules.”
I nodded but twisted my hands in my lap.
He stood, grabbed a radio and a clipboard, then marched out the door so quickly, I barely had time to keep up. “Ain't my fault you wore those shoes. I don't slow down for anyone. If you can't keep up, I'll consider you lazy.”
And that was how I spent my morning.
I walked faster than I ever had, my shoes clicking on the cement floor. He showed me the offices where the trainers, EMTs, and coaches spent most of their time. I visited the various gyms and weight rooms, the mats, the pool, and the film room. We walked around the track at least twenty times, going over where the water house was, the spickets, the hoses, and the water bottles. It was noon when we finished the tour, andblisters upon blisters formed on my ankles. But, I would not let him win. Not today.
“The Special Teams group is out practicing. They need water. Consider this your first assignment.” He narrowed his eyes and had an innocent expression cross his face as I eyed the distance between the field and water house, then my footwear choice. The email from my counselor specifically said that I would only meet totalktoday. There weren't supposed to be any duties until classes began. Joke was on me. This was an internship with the devil.
“Okay.”I dug deep inside myself for my iron-clad determination. In high school, I’d filled countless coolers. Football games, volleyball tournaments, and baseball games—I’d been the goffer. When I wasn’t being someone’s “go get it” bitch, I’d taped ankles, cleaned wounds, held hands, and watched athletes cry. I could do this.
He whistled at someone and strode off in the other direction.
This was a test. And I would pass it.
I made my way to the storage room back inside the stands. I pulled out all three and carried them to the water house. It was open, thank god, because I refused to ask for help. I began filling the first one.
With it filled, I added ice. It was a blistering summer afternoon, and the players had to be dying. Hell, I was sweating my ass off, but my dress was so dark, sweat wouldn't be noticeable. The cooler was heavier than most trays I carried waitressing. I lugged it to the bench, sweat dripping down my face. One down, two to go.
I did it again, and on the third one, my arms burned. Shit. This job required me to have more muscles, and more muscles meant gym time. Ugh. I was wiping my neck with the back of my hand when someone snuck behind me.
“Excuse me, but I'm not used to seeing people dressed like this on the field.” I twisted to see a friendly, grinning man. He stood at least six feet, dressed in khaki shorts and a navy polo. What was it with football people and polos? They were not stylish, at all.
“Ah, yes. About that. I was under the impression I would get a tour, and that's it. But I officially began my internship today. I'm Grace Turner.” I held out my hand, and he took it in his large one.
