“My personal life should be of no concern,” I snap back.
“Yes, it is if it affects your performance. You think I haven’t watched you closely? Just because you keep most of your escapades private doesn’t mean you’re the type of man I would want with my daughter.”
This is Lilly’s father,I remind myself. I am on thin ice already, cracking with every step and threatening to break under my feet any moment, but consequences and his opinions be damned.
I slam a fist into my chest, blowing a harsh breath. “You know nothing about my principles and values. I am a player just on the field. Let’s clear that up. When I love, I love fucking hard and with all of me. That goes for my family, friends, and my sport. And you bet that my woman would never feel like she’s less important to me. Be the coach I need to advance in my career. Only one person keeps me here, so you tread just as carefully, Coach.”
A pensive expression slides over his features for long minutes, which only increases my agitation.
I tap my foot on the floor, wanting to be done already. “Am I dismissed?”
“Yes, and pull double the time today.”
“Fine.”
I storm out.
He can think badly of me, but threatening to bench me, fucking stinks.
Back in the gym, Roman does pushups next to me while I do some arm exercises.
“What was that about?”
“Just him showing he’s the big guy,” I grit out. “Said not to force him to bench me.”
His eyes widen while he glances at the inexperienced backup quarterbacks, and whispers, “Oh, come on, man. Go back and crawl on your hands and knees if necessary. What the fuck was so important today?”
“Lilly. Her bathroom got flooded.”
“You whipped idiot. Really?”
I nod, dragging a hand down my face. “There are things just as or even more important to me than football. I love the game, but I will always be there for the people I love. I’m not taking that shit for granted.”
He swipes his towel over his sweaty temples, squeezing my shoulder. “Maybe he’d understand if you told him. She’s his daughter.”
“I’m not using Lilly to justify anything. He’s just pissed I am close to his daughter.”
Brows furrowed, he narrows his eyes at the wall as if he can see Coach behind it. “I don’t get his fucking problem. Why doesn’t he want his daughter to date a football player? She could do so much worse.”
I elbow his side. “Thank you, asshole. I appreciate it.”
My teammates trickle out, and I remain the only one in the practice facility. If I am something, it is determined to prove a point.Bring it on, Coach, but I am made of fucking stronger stuff.
Just to prove he means business, he has me throw passes until I can’t feel my fucking arm. I grit my teeth and push through.
“Good.”
It takes everything in me not to toss out a snarky remark. Good? Is he fucking kidding me? I watched the distance my ball flew every time. That’s not merely good.
He leaves, and I trudge to the locker room, hauling my exhausted limbs inside.
After I take a long, ice-cold shower, a member of the medical staff waits for me to bring me to the recovery room.
I sit down as he massages my arm and places an ice pack on it, wrapping it around my sore muscles. He inspects my shoulder with care, making sure it does what it’s supposed to do—bring in the wins.
“I’m fine,” I groan.
If I couldn’t handle this hard training, I wouldn’t be here. The more I work, the better I will become, honing my skills.
