All of this is compounded by the fact that the coach has banned any kind of partying. That’s not really my thing, but we do have some players that enjoy it, especially when we're playing in another city.
In an effort to release the pressure valve and increase team bonding, Coach said he’d lift the going out ban for Rhodes and Skylar’s house warming party, but that he expected everyonehome by one in the morning. I don’t know if I’m going to go tonight due to my own issues with them.
I already have a hard time thinking around the alphas. Add in that I’m nearing my heat, I definitely don’t want to be triggered too soon. I don’t have to smell them to be attracted to their too attentive eyes, their kissable lips, and even how nice their laughs sound.
Fuck, how the hell am I catching feelings for alphas I barely know?
Shaking my head, I remind myself that I can’t get romantically entangled with my teammates. There have been too many times where I’ve wanted to drop to my knees in the locker room to suck Rhodes’ thick cock, which is why I make sure I shower as quickly as possible.
In many cases, I make sure I’m done before him, which isn’t difficult when I’m pulled to speak to the press after games.
Rhodes and Skylar are very comfortable with their bodies, like most of the team. I’m the only one that doesn’t like the locker room.
Attraction isn’t an issue. It’s the concern that I’ll lose my autonomy if I get in a relationship with an alpha. I fucking hate that I let that coach get inside my head so badly, and if I ever see him again, I intend to tell him off. Unfortunately, he retired recently, so I doubt I’ll ever have the opportunity.
I’m in a pretty shitty mood as I walk down the hall, and I jolt as my feet splash in a puddle.
“What the fuck?” I whisper.
“Hey you’re in apartment six sixty-eight, right?” someone calls out behind me.
Turning, I nod. “I am. What’s going on?”
“Pretty sure the water is coming from your apartment. Did you leave the water running?” he asks, looking disappointed in me.
“Nah. I’m seriously anal about turning everything off. Plus, this is a lot of water.”
“Well, don’t be surprised if your shit is fucked,” he says, hitching a duffle bag over his shoulder. “We all have to evacuate this floor.”
“Shit,” I breathe. I don’t know if I should apologize or not, so instead I rush to my apartment and unlock the door. A small wave of liquid knocks me onto my ass when I open it, and I whimper in annoyance.
I fucking hate my life.
Scrambling up, I leave the door open as I wade inside to find the sprinklers happily getting everything wet, and all of my sinks overflowing. I want to cry as I turn everything off and finally remember to shut my front door.
At this point, my duffle bag is the only salvageable thing because I managed to keep it from hitting the soaked ground.
I could see the water flooding my closet when I went into my room, so my makeshift nest is also ruined.
My phone rings as I sag against the wall, and I drop my head back with a groan as I answer it.
“What?” I ask, not looking at the contact information.
“Is that any way to answer the phone?”Coach asks.
“No, I’m sorry. My apartment is completely flooded. It’s raining inside it from the fire sprinklers, and my entire apartment building currently hates me,” I sigh. “I just walked in. How can I help you?”
“I think the real question is how I can help you,”Coach Weightman scoffs, no longer concerned with my shitty attitude. “Is anything salvageable?”
“Nothing,” I admit, looking around. Wading further into my apartment, I realize that my walls are missing photos.
What kind of intruder steals childhood pictures?
“All of the faucets were open in my apartment, Coach,” I finally add. “This was done on purpose, I just don’t know how or why.”
“Then a hotel isn’t really an option either. It won’t be safe enough,” he growls. “I want you to stay with someone from the team.”
“Coach, I’ll be fine?—”
