A sigh heaves her chest. “You never did.”
I was never enough either, apparently.
Coach comes back, cutting off our interaction. He narrows his eyes at us. “Something wrong?”
“We just realized we’re neighbors.” Lilly chirps, and I flinch at the forced cheer.
“Really?” His glance cuts through me with heavy implications. Don’t go there. I am your coach, you’re my player, she’s my daughter.
My jaw tightens, but I dip my chin in acknowledgement at his subliminal message.
“I’ll meet you in the film room in ten.”
He dismisses me, and I drag toward the locker room, each step heavier than the last. There’s a ruckus as the guys are pumped about the win and planning for the next game, bringing us closer to our goal.
One after the other, my teammates trickle out, but I need a moment to compose myself.
I drop my ass on the bench, cupping my face between my hands.Focus.Goddamn it, focus on what’s important.
“That was her, wasn’t it?” Levi asks, patting me on my back in silent support.
I lift my gaze only to see the shit-eating grin on my best friend’s face.
“What the fuck are you smiling about?”
He palms his chest. “To want what you can’t have… that will be a valuable lesson, my friend. One, I know too well.”
“Thanks, asshole. You’re a shitty best friend,” I grumble.
He stabs me with a hard glare. “As your best friend and all, you can come to me when things become too much. I didn’t have that support.”
“Thanks for the reminder. I didn’t make you fall for my sister,” I snicker.
“Not regretting that.”
I elbow him. “Stop being so smug about it.”
He jerks his chin toward the door. “Come on, Cap. Let’s go watch some film. Nothing is harder than trying to focus on a game when your heart and mind are somewhere else.”
I stand up, glaring at him, and follow him out the door.
He’s right. It’s not easy, and focusing on the game film from last night and for the next opponent is a challenge. A win is swiftly forgotten compared to a loss.
The fans can go from shouting your name to booing you just as quickly. Love for the game at this level comes secondary to discipline and giving your best, even when you struggle. To be worthy of this chance, to be worthy of making millions, you must permanently deliver. It’s not about earning it as much as it is proving you’ve earned it.
Getting my head back in the game, I salvage the other half of film review and position meetings by doing what I do best: focus on the game.
Back in the locker room at the end of the day, Banks says, “Coach’s daughter is beautiful. No wonder we’ve never seen her.”
“Do you think I have a chance?” Roman wiggles his brows in a comical display. He’s a cocky asshole.
I ball my hands at my sides. “Hey, assholes.” I march to them, stabbing a finger in their faces. “Don’t talk about her. Don’t think about her. Don’t even entertain this delusion. She’s forbidden for every single one of you fuckers.”
“Do you want to hit on her, Cap?” Banks whistles.
I whip my head to him. He raises his hands in a non-threatening gesture that does nothing to calm me. I point a finger at him, trailing it over each of my teammates but Levi. “Forbidden, or I’m going to tattoo that word on your fucking foreheads.”
Cursing under my breath, I gather my belongings and before I leave, I add, “Not another word about her or Coach’s training will look like kindergarten compared to what I will have you do.”
