* * *
I screamed.I jumped up and down, not giving a shit about my knee or how cool I looked. We won, with ten seconds left on the clock. Forgetting this was a job, I shouted and threw my fists into the air. I wasn’t alone. The entire staff was in the air with the players, chanting and screaming echoing as they made their way into the locker room. Screw getting ice and checking arms, I was celebrating.
The adrenaline poured throughout the locker room and leaked down the hall. It was testosterone central. Coaches cheered, hugging everyone in sight. I had never seen grown men look so stupid. Most of the players were jumping up and down with chants and in various stages of dress. It was unreal. I took it all in, the smell of Gatorade and sweat, the echoing of their voices, and the pure joy that radiated from them all. It was a memorable experience, that was for sure.
Voices carried down the hall, and Brock brought bags of ice and wore a huge smile.
I ran up to him and took some of the bags off his arm. He was carrying too many with his right arm even though his face showed no pain. “Where you dropping them off?”
“Over there.” He tilted his head back toward the locker room. “Heads up, this will be insanity.”
“Wait, really? Everyone is so happy.” I bit my lip, not seeing at all how this was going to be difficult. The atmosphere was ecstatic. What could go wrong?
“Yeah, you’ll see in a second.”
An hour and a half later, I was annoyed beyond my wits measure. It took twice as long to make sure everyone was iced, taped, and checked up. They talked, danced around, undressed in slow stages that made me blush at least ten times. I had seen more chests, asses, and front junk than I ever needed to see. The joy and awe I felt walking into that locker room seemed like a distant memory. My hands were numb from holding ice for an hour, and I sat on one of the empty benches. Even after that shit show, the coach still had to meet with all of them before they set free these amped up college guys on this poor town.
“So, how you doing?” Brock’s voice held nothing back. He was laughing his ass off at my expression.
“Piss off.” I wiped my hand on the back of my black athletic pants. “You knew.”
“Oh, yeah.” He joined me on the bench with our legs touching. His scent overwhelmed me again, my body wanting to crawl into his lap. “You handled it well.”
“Ha!” I turned to see his amused eyes. “I almost threw myself on Q to have him stay put. Then Cooper took the bag of ice and dumped it all over another player. Zach. God. He kept dancing the entire time I tried to wrap his ankle. It was a freaking mess.”
“Always is after an amazing win.” He patted my knee, letting his fingers linger a little too long.
My stomach swooped.
“Now, they are all going to hit the town, get drunk, and be pieces of shit tomorrow morning.”
“And the coaches?” I winced, unable to believe the drinking was allowed or that they didn’t care their players were going to make asses out of themselves.
“It’s more of a don’t ask, don’t tell sort of thing. He knows they drink, but they also know if they mess anything up, they can lose it all. Most of the guys want to go hook up with a girl and have a couple beers. It’s not like the movies where they go clubbing and sleep with five chicks.”
“First off, no one thinks that.” I made a face of disgust. “Plus, no guy could get it up that many times.”
His face blanked at my challenge, and I stood up with a laugh. I put my hand on his shoulder, the left one, and tsked. “I have no doubt some of your past stories could prove me wrong, but you’re all into being gentlemanly and shit, and frankly I don’t wanna hear it.”
“You know, you’re kind of an asshole, too, Grace.” He chuckled, standing up with me. “Are you going to go hang out with yourbuddytonight?” He sneered the word buddy, damn well knowing I was not going clubbing with Logan.
“I still don’t get your reservation with my friendship with him. He is good people.”
“He is young and stupid,” he said, grim face.
“He’s allowed to be young and stupid. He’s single, working for a college football team, and has no responsibilities. I’d be stupid, too if I had that luxury.” I gave him a pointed look and continued. “Plus, he’s also fun and kind.”
“Fun and kind are the things you’re into?” he asked, his face way too serious for this conversation.
“In friends, yes,” I answered, skeptical of his intentions. “That does make me question my friendship with you. You do make me laugh, butkindis hit or miss.”
He grunted in response and turned away. Score one for me. The ongoing battle we have had going for months had to be somewhere in the middle now, right? He picked up the bags of equipment, and I took two of them myself. I was not excited about the bus ride to the hotel. Crazy was going to be the tame end of it. So, without talking we walked to the bus and were assaulted with dance moves, chants, clothes being thrown, music blaring, and a lot of high fives and bro hugs. I found my seat in the front and took in the atmosphere. Did I want this? Or did I want to help kids? Or did I want to be a waitress and not worry about this? I had no idea.
“You never answered my question,” Brock said as soon as he sat, his thigh touching mine because he was so massive.
“About what, exactly?”
“Are you going to hang with your buddy?”
