Presley touches my arm. “I think you made your point.”
I look over at Coach and see his jaw tighten.
He turns slowly to Aaron, who’s now standing again, wiping blood from his mouth.
The look Coach gives him is pure ice.
“You done here?” Coach asks.
Aaron opens his mouth like he might argue.
Coach doesn’t give him the chance. He steps forward, his expression carved in stone.
“Get off my field.”
The words are quiet.
But final.
“Now,” Coach continues, stepping closer, “or you’ll be escorted out by security before you can blink.”
Aaron looks around, realizing no one here is on his side.
Coach jerks his head toward the parking lot.
“Go, Muldoon.”
Aaron hesitates for half a second.
Then he picks up his clipboard and walks.
No one stops him.
Then the gate slams shut behind him.
“The fuck,” Coach says under his breath. “Did you know about this?” he says to the OC standing next to him, who shrugs and shakes his head.
“Thank god that this was a closed practice today.” He huffs.
“Alright, show’s over. Hit the showers,” The offensive coordinator barks.
Aston clamps a hand on my shoulder. “Let’s go, buddy.”
I take a few deep breaths and nod. Then I jog off the field, feeling steadier than I’ve felt all week. Not because the problem is gone. But because I’m not letting it own me.
I shower and make it back to my room in record time. I’m anxious to talk to my girls, and I know the late-night calls are hard with bedtime for Sera.
Alie answers on the second ring, a little breathless. “Hey.”
“You busy?”
“No, I just left my phone in the kitchen, so I had to run and get it. I was in Seraphina’s room.”
“Ah, okay. Do you want to call me back?”
“No, no. We’re good. As long as you don’t mind sitting in on bath time.”
“Not at all. Where is my girl?”
