But very, very real.
Silas’s whistle snaps through the air a second later.
“Maddox.”
Just my last name. Nothing else. It sends a shiver of awareness down my spine.
I slow, turning with exaggerated innocence. “Yes, Coach?”
His jaw tightens. “Focus. This isn’t a social hour.”
A few guys snicker. Will coughs to hide a laugh. Ty mutters, “Ooo, someone’s in trouble.”
I hold my hands up. “Just keeping morale high.”
“Your job is to run routes,” Silas says flatly. “Not your mouth.”
Oh. That tone. Is it too early to say I like that tone?
I nod, all compliance. “Got it.”
I turn back toward the drill, falling into position beside Micah. He gives me a sideways glance, amused.
“You’re gonna get murdered,” he murmurs.
I lean closer, dropping my voice. “You see how mad he gets? I think the new coach has a crush.”
Colton chokes on a laugh. “Luke?—”
“What?” I whisper, grinning. “You don’t yell at someone like that unless you’re feeling something.”
That’s when Silas snaps again. “Maddox.” Louder this time. Enough that the whole group stills.
I look back, eyebrows raised.
“You want to continue to show me why you should be bumped down to second string,” he asks, voice edged with steel, “or you want to prove why you’re starting Running Back?”
Colton and Micah straighten immediately. I do too—mostly.
“Route,” Silas continues. “Now. And if I hear one more word out of you that isn’t a play call, you’re running until I get bored.”
Oh. He’smadmad.
I bite back a smile and nod. “Yes, Coach.”
As I jog into position, I feel his stare burn into my back like a brand. I like the attention. And if I’m going to suffer through practice sore, exhausted, and sleep-deprived, I might as well enjoy myself.
Practice drags after that.
Or maybe it doesn’t and I’m just hyperaware of every clipped command Silas throws across the field, every time his gaze skims me without pausing. He doesn’t call me out again, doesn’t snap or growl, just runs the rest of the drills with mechanical precision and zero tolerance.
He’s all business. Which, if I’m being honest, kind of makes it worse.
Because it’shot.
Unfairly hot.
Hey, don’t blame me, I always want what I can’t have, and he’s making it clear that he’s not available.
