Page 62 of Forever Offsides

19

RHETT

Then make it so they don’t. Goddammit! Her words reverberate through my skull. The salty, sweet taste of her sweat. The sexy little moans she had only for me. The moment I walked out, all I wanted to do was go right back in. Then last night, when I was alone in my bed, it took everything in me not to text her just to fucking talk to her.

“Run it again!” I bark, wrapping my whistle around two fingers before I flick my wrist and spin it around the other way. “My fucking grandmother could catch a ball better than that.”

It’s true. She’s the one who taught me how to catch, and if women were allowed in the NFL, she would have been a fucking bruiser.

The guys are covered in sweat and piddling into puddles. It’s hot as blazes out here and humid to no end, but I’m too worked up to care, so they’re getting my wrath. Russel is on the field today, but other than a text last night telling me he was in town and ready for today, you’d never know he was my son.

I have two players on the sidelines sitting in front of fans and drinking fluids to help their cramps. They likely need IVs, but I’m not a doctor. I just want one. I can still feel her. That’s the problem. Her warm thighs on either side of my hips, her hot skin beneath my lips, her soft tits that I barely got a brush of.

I was a half beat from picking her up and bringing her upstairs to her bed. I wouldn’t have stopped. I would have stripped her down to nothing and spent all day and into the night feeling her and touching her and smelling her. I would have made her sweat harder.

I would have made her mine.

She’s not wearing off. She’s not a novelty. It wasn’t distance or loneliness, nor the fun of something new and different. I want her. First time in twenty-five years I’ve felt this strongly about someone and it’s with the wrong woman.

As it is, it took every ounce of self-control I had left in me to pull away and leave. I ended up running another two miles, then lifting weights in my home gym until my muscles were so tired and sore I could hardly do much other than shower and make myself something to eat. I watched more game film and took notes, but dammit all if my eyes didn’t perpetually stray toward the front window.

Having her so close almost makes me want to move.

I’m seventeen years older than her. I was practically an adult when she was born. The way I want her is wrong. But the worst part? She wants me back, and it makes this so much harder knowing that.

I don’t want to want her. I don’t want to have my eyes betray me more times than I can count as they crawl toward the sidelines, anxious for even a glimpse.

We run the play three more times with different defensive packages attached to it. I’m still not satisfied, but I also don’t want anyone dying out here. Tomorrow is supposed to be even hotter, and I think I’ll move us to the indoor arena so I can get more production out of them.

Up ahead, I spot Quinn signing with Crew and Mason. Whatever they’re saying to each other is a lot and appears to be heated. Not the easy conversation they had the first time I saw them do this. She walks beside them in her T-shirt and shorts, her elbow covered in a large Band-Aid. I hope it doesn’t hurt or get infected, but she’s a doctor and not my concern.

Her hair is up in a ponytail that’s looped through the back of her hat, showing off the delicate skin of her neck that’s dotted with a few more freckles than it was the other day.

“She’s talking them out of kicking my ass again,” Russel says, coming in beside me. Shit. Did he just catch me staring at her?

I clear my throat. “How can you tell that?”

“Instinct. I know how they talk to each other. I also learned a little ASL while we were dating.”

“You need to sit down and talk to them.”

“I think you should be there with me as the coach.”

I nod. “All right. After you shower, the three of you will come up to my office.”

“Thanks, Coach.”

Coach, not Dad, but that’s what I am here. He’s never called me that unless it was mocking or in disdain.

I give him a firm nod and jog up to Crew and Mason to let them know. I don’t look at Quinn. I don’t acknowledge her. It’s how it has to be. I have no right to her. But more than that, no one can know she’s the only thing I see.

Mason agrees, and Crew comes on board. I head upstairs to my office and shower off a day on the field. Half an hour later, there’s a knock on my door, and there’s Russel. He looks around before he takes a seat at the table.

“This might not go well,” Russel says after a quiet moment.

“Why’s that?” I question, sitting on the edge of my desk.

“Quinn doesn’t know this, but both of them do. I bought her a ring and asked both of them along with her father for her hand.”