I knew the sooner I told him about his daughter and me, the better things would be, but I wasn’t entirely sure there was an ‘Emmie and me’ yet. Going to the rink two days ago was technically our firstdate.
Until I knew Emmie actually wanted to see me again and not bolt, I wouldn’t be saying anything to her father.
“So,” Perry’s voice drew me back in. “Want to grab a bite to eat?”
My mind still lingered on Emmie, but I knew from her text last night she was busy until tonight with her own practice. I’d be an absolute dick if I ditched my friends to sit around my apartment to wait for a text from someone who likely wouldn’t be up to hanging out after a long day.
“Sure.” I grabbed my helmet and started after the rest of the team toward the practice facility. The early afternoon sun was stifling with the ten pounds of gear I had on. My hair clung to my face, and sweat dripped down my back.
“How would you feel if I had hair like yours?” Perry asked, gesturing to Jake’s braids. I’ve never seen him without his hair immaculately done. He’d mix up the style, but it was always so intricate that I had no idea how his hairdresser did it.
“You think you could pull them off?” The way Jake looked Perry up and down made me snort. Perry with his blond hair and blue eyes screamed California surfer. There was no way he could ever pull off the hairstyle Jake had.
“Oh, I totally could. It’d help show off this incredible jawline.” Perry dragged his index finger along his chin, one that couldn’t grow a beard no matter how many times he tried.
“Oh god,” Jake muttered. “How women like you is beyond me.”
“They like me cause I’m the whole package.” Perry flexed his bicep with a smirk.
Jake looked at me with a raised eyebrow. “Hey, he was your friend first.” I put my hands up. Him and Perry were on the team a year before I got drafted, so they were friends longer.
“I laid no claim on him,” Jake shot back.
“I am right here you know,” Perry deadpanned.
“Oh, we know,” I joked. Perry shoved my shoulder, and I laughed.
“Boone!” My name being called stopped our conversation. I glanced over my shoulder and found Coach headed my way.
“Good luck with that.” Jake slapped my shoulder. My friends shot me a look before they left me and headed inside to shower.
Taking a deep breath, I turned around. I took in the similarities between Coach Reggie and Emmie. Thank god she didn’t get her looks from her father or things would have been extremely awkward.
“Coach.” I moved my helmet to my other hand while I shifted on my feet. He stopped a few feet in front of me, arms crossed. It was a stance that screamedI know what you’ve done.Shit, did he know I was talking to his daughter?
New sweat formed on my back and had nothing to do with practice.
“I’ll make this quick so you can get going,” he started. “We’re going to have you play the first quarter of both games, but then you’re going to sit out.”
I let out an inaudible breath. He just wanted to talk about preseason and not the fact I had his daughter pressed against her car just two days ago.
I nodded. “Sounds good to me.”
The longer I stood there, the more my skin itched. It wasn’t that I didn’t know how to lie or that I hated to—there were plenty of times I tried to get away with things in high school—but doing so to someone I respected and was around almost every day was hard.
Also, I wasn’t sure Coach would appreciate that I fuckedmy fist to the image of his daughter this morning before I came here.
“I told Jennings he can call and text you if he has any questions about the plays,” Coach said, mentioning the backup quarterback that would be taking my place until the real season started.
Coach meant well, but Duncan Jennings and I weren’t friends. He was drafted to the team seven years ago and was named starting quarterback. For four years, Jennings was the leader of the team, something he really enjoyed being. Then the Titans drafted me three years ago.
I came into the team knowing I was a rookie and had to earn my position. Just because I was drafted first didn’t mean I was guaranteed a starting spot, especially when the team already had a quarterback that had done a decent job. The team made it to the playoffs once, but they weren’t a contending team.
The moment I stepped through the doors of the locker room, Jennings hated me. While everyone was friendly and welcoming, he wasn’t. He kept his distance. Whenever I asked a question, he’d give one-worded answers.
He knew I was there to take his position and resented me for it. When he sprained his ankle and Coach put me in, that was it. I became the starting quarterback, and he was bumped to backup, further adding to his resentment.
Jennings flat out told me I hadn’t earned my spot, nor paid my dues. He fully believed he had superiority over me since he’d been around longer, but it wasn’t my fault I was a better player.
