Hating the Cocky Jock

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Hating the Cocky Jock Page 9

by B. B. Hamel


  I’m not important. I’m just another girl, just another random reporter. And yet, I did write those good articles.

  Finally, he shrugs. “Fine. Have it your way.” He picks up his glasses and puts them on. “You’re fired.”

  I nod. I expected those words to hurt. I expected them to rip me apart.

  Instead, I just stand. “Okay.”

  I turn to leave his office.

  But there’s a commotion outside. I cock my head as a few people stand up. I notice someone has his phone out, taking video.

  “What’s that?” Soren asks, coming up behind me.

  We open his door and step outside. There’s a group of people surrounding someone tall, handsome, muscular.

  I step in their direction. It takes me a second to realize who they’re all flocking to.

  It’s Sean. It’s really him, in the flesh, wearing the same thing he was wearing the last time I saw him, maybe an hour ago.

  “Speak of the devil,” Soren says to me softly. “What is this?”

  “I don’t know,” I admit.

  He grunts and walks over to the group of men. I hang back. I can’t hear what Soren says to Sean, but they shake hands and Soren looks in my direction.

  I bite my lip. Everyone’s looking at me now. Sean walks in my direction, a smile on his lips.

  “Soren here was just telling me that you two had reached an agreement,” he says.

  I raise an eyebrow. “Did he?”

  Sean nods. “You got fired, huh?” He asks it softly so the others can’t hear.

  I shrug. “Bound to happen eventually, I guess.”

  “Lucky you, then,” he whispers again, and clears his throat. “So, Soren. Can we use a conference room?”

  “Right, sure,” Soren says. “Come on, lead the way.”

  I hesitate. Sean looks at me. “Well, what are you waiting for? It’s time for the interview.”

  Soren gives me a look I can’t read. I think it’s half anger, half pleading.

  I don’t want to move, but Sean’s here, he’s really here.

  And so I follow him, because of course I do. I’ll do anything he says.

  We find a conference room. Soren leaves us alone, and Sean smiles at me.

  “Go ahead,” he says. “Ask me absolutely anything.”

  15

  Sean

  I know exactly what I did when I went to that office.

  It was an easy choice. I thought it would be hard. I thought I might have a moment’s doubt, a moment’s hesitation.

  But that all cleared up for me when I saw Leah in the trainer’s room.

  “How’s it going?” she asked me early yesterday morning, before I went to do that interview.

  “Not bad,” I said, sitting on her table. “I’ve got a problem.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “It’s the reporter, isn’t it?”

  I shrugged. “Yep.”

  “Cole isn’t happy about that.”

  I laughed softly. “Yeah, well, too bad, I guess.”

  She sighed. “What’s going on?”

  So I filled her in. “Basically, if I don’t help her, she’ll get fired. But if I do, your husband is going to be pissed.”

  Leah hesitated for maybe a second. “You know what you have to do, right?”

  I frowned at her. “What?”

  “Go see the girl,” she said softly. “Cole will get over it. I mean, he’ll be pissed, sure, but… you like her, right?”

  “I like her,” I said.

  “Then go see her.”

  I stood up and I left the room. I went to her office. I did the interview. I gave her plenty of material.

  And now, this morning, the next day, the article already published, I know what’s going to happen to me.

  I can already hear it. I just don’t care.

  I don’t know why.

  Starting for the Chainsaws is my dream. I’ve been bouncing around the league for a while now. I never got the start, at least not without someone else getting hurt first. Nobody ever gave me a real shot, nobody ever really cared about me.

  Until Coach Wood brought me onto this crazy team. He built this offense around me. He believes in me.

  I’m his guy. I’ve never been someone’s guy before, not since high school.

  And here I am, spitting in the face of that. It hurts like hell, but I know I have to do it.

  I have no other choice. If I can help Brynn, I’m going to do it.

  I don’t get far into the building before Robby hunts me down.

  “Right now?” I ask him just as I’m sitting down to eat breakfast.

  He nods. “Let’s get it over with.”

  I sigh as the other guys stare at the two of us. I follow him out of the cafeteria, down a series of hallways, and into Coach’s office.

  He’s holding the paper when I sit down. Robby sits next to me.

  “Well?” Coach asks, frowning.

  “What can I say?” I shrug. “She needed a favor.”

  “What did I say?” Wood asks softly. “I told you to stay away from her.”

  “I know you did.”

  Robby watches me, his glasses pushed back, a frown on his otherwise empty face.

  I hate the way Coach is looking at me. I may have been a punk in my younger days, but now I want to do right by the people that do right by me. I want to help Coach, win games for him, follow his rules. I want to fit into his system.

  But I know I had to do what I did. I had no other choice. I can’t explain that to him, though. That would just be making bullshit excuses.

  I broke a rule. I went against his wishes. It doesn’t matter why.

  He sighs. “It’s a good article,” he says finally. “You come off good. But still, there’s stuff in here…” He shakes his head. “God damn it, Sean. Why can’t you listen?”

  “I had to do it, Coach,” I say.

  He groans. “You didn’t. You’re being fucking stupid with this girl.” He glances at Robby. “What do you think?”

  Robby doesn’t move. “You know what I think, Cole.”

  Coach sighs. “Fuck.” He shakes his head. “I really don’t want to do this, Sean, but you left me with no choice.”

  I nod once. “I get it.”

  “I’m benching you. Carter will start on Sunday.”

  It cuts me like a knife. I sit there, completely still.

  “Okay, Coach,” I say finally.

  “Go back to practice. Do your usual shit. And if you speak to her again, I’ll bench you for another week. Understood?”

  I nod and stand. “Understood.”

  I leave the office without another word.

  This is going to look very, very fucking bad. The media is going to eat this up. The speculation alone is going to drive me insane.

  But worse than all that, if Carter does well, if he plays amazing on Sunday, I may never get back on that field again in my career.

  It’s happened before and it’ll happen again. Backups get a chance to start, play a good game, and win the starting role. Teams decide to keep their backup in and realize that they had the wrong guy under center the whole time.

  That can easily happen to me. It’s every quarterback’s fucking worst nightmare. Letting someone else helm the team, the fucking team you’ve worked so hard to help build, is a fate worse than anything else.

  I walk slowly back to the cafeteria. I sit down alone and eat my breakfast.

  And as I eat, I know one thing.

  Despite the fact that my career could be over, I did the right thing. I helped Brynn, I saved her job. I helped the girl I’m falling in love with.

  I don’t fucking regret it. Not one tiny bit.

  But I know I might be losing something precious to me, and I can’t help but mourn it.

  16

  Brynn

  It’s hard not to think about how important this game is for Sean.

  And he’s not even on the field.

  It’s a cold morning. I’m wr
apped in my jacket on the sidelines, just thankful that I’m here at all. I expected my editor to keep me back, but today he let me go to the game in person.

  I don’t normally get to be on the sidelines. Typically that’s reserved for the national media, but today’s so cold that most of them gave up their spots.

  I don’t care about that. I’d brave colder weather than this for Sean.

  I keep looking in his direction as the players warm up. He’s wearing his sweats and a headset, clearly playing the role of the sidelined backup today. He’ll help out with play calling, making sure all the guys know what’s happening, that sort of thing.

  And he’ll watch as Carter tries to take his job.

  I can’t imagine how he feels. Carter was drafted last year out of Syracuse. Everyone’s saying he’s the future of this team, he just needs some more time under Sean to really mature.

  And then, of course, Sean has to retire or get traded.

  I know Sean never imagined that Carter would be taking the field over him already. I think deep down he knew that eventually it would happen, but he never really expected it to happen so soon.

  I’m on edge the whole time. Kickoff starts and the game is underway, and I don’t know how Sean’s handling any of this.

  I keep getting glimpses of him. He looks calm, almost happy. He’s joking with the guys, keeping morale nice and high. I even catch him conferring with Coach Wood at one point.

  The game flow is a little rocky at first. We get the ball, they get the ball, but nobody scores. Carter is playing okay, not great, but not bad, either.

  Everything changes early in the second quarter. Carter drops back for a pass, and just as he throws, he gets hit from behind, totally blindsided. He goes down hard and is slow to get back up.

  “Oh, shit,” I whisper to myself. I look over at Sean, and he looks like he’s about to get suited up.

  But Carter gets back to his feet. I see him talking to Wood, and he’s back on the field for the next play.

  After that though, he never really gets into a rhythm. He throws an interception to end the first half, and only scores a single touchdown in the second. We end up losing that game by three scores, one of the worst losses the Chainsaws have ever seen.

  As the team breaks up and heads onto the field, I spot Sean talking to Carter. I don’t know what he’s saying, but he’s squeezing his shoulder, looking him in the eye. Carter nods his head and steps away as the media descends.

  My heart’s beating fast. I hang off to the side. I don’t want to get out there, not when Coach Wood is on the lookout for me. I bet he’d throw me out of this stadium if he knew I was out here on the field.

  But Sean catches my eye and heads in my direction. We step off to the side, near the screaming fans that are streaming from the cold stands.

  “Well,” I say to him.

  He sighs. “Yeah. I guess that wasn’t so bad for me.”

  I grin a little. “Gonna start next week?”

  “Probably.”

  Strangely though, he doesn’t look happy. I expected him to be elated, excited, but instead… he’s just frowning. He’s looking at the ground.

  “What’s wrong?”

  He hesitates a second. “Can I talk to you as… you know, not as a reporter?”

  I nod, stop closer. “Just between us.”

  “Part of me wanted him to do well.”

  I frown, confused. “Why?”

  “He’s a good kid. Good player.”

  “But he’d take your job.”

  “Yeah, maybe.” He sighs. “The way things are going here, I doubt I have much time left, anyway.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He shakes his head. Before he can respond, someone barks his name, and we both spot Coach Wood walking toward us.

  And he looks pissed.

  “Look, I’ll deal with him,” Sean says. “Head home. I’ll call you later.”

  “Sean—”

  “Go,” he says, meeting my gaze. “I’ll see you later.”

  I take a breath and nod. I turn and walk away as Coach Wood bears down on Sean.

  I don’t go back to my apartment, not at first, anyway. I head to the office first and find Soren sitting at his desk.

  Of course he’s working on a Sunday. The man is practically always working.

  “Brynn,” he says, looking up. “I’m surprised to see you.”

  “I’m not writing about Sean anymore,” I say, standing in his doorway. “I just wanted you to know.”

  I turn and leave. I hear him get up and follow me. “Hold on,” he calls after me. “What about the other day?”

  “That was the end of it,” I tell him. “That was the last interview. I’m done.”

  “Brynn,” he growls. “Why are you such a pain in my ass?”

  “Because I’m sick of being jerked around, okay?” I glare at Soren, crossing my arms. “I know you see him as just another way to sell your paper, but it’s not like that for me.”

  He rubs his temples. “It doesn’t matter what you think.”

  “That’s obvious.”

  “Brynn, I already gave you a choice. Write what I ask or find another job.”

  “Okay,” I say. “I quit once but Sean saved me. He’s not going to walk through that door a second time.”

  I glare at Soren and he glares back. We stand there for a second, facing off at each other.

  Finally, he shakes his head. “You’re making a mistake. Seriously, Brynn, what is wrong with you? How many chances do you need?”

  I shrug a little, not even sure what I’m doing.

  He’s right. He’s given me so many chances. Hell, I’ve quit this job once already.

  I don’t know why I’m here, why I’m throwing this all away for Sean. I’m not even the guy’s girlfriend. Not that long ago, I hated him so much I could barely stand him. He started an ugly rumor about me, drove me crazy with his cocky bullshit.

  But here I am, falling in love with him like a total moron.

  I don’t even know what to say to Soren. I doubt he’d understand. I could try and tell him how I feel about Sean but that won’t matter. He can’t trust me now. He knows I won’t write whatever bullshit I’m forced to write.

  He knows he can’t trust me to shut up and play along.

  I just can’t act like it matter anymore. Not after everything I’ve done with Sean, the way I feel for him.

  I won’t use him anymore. Not the way everyone else has been using him. I can’t be a part of it anymore.

  “Sorry, Soren,” I say.

  He shakes his head and goes back to his office without another word.

  I pack up my desk. I take my time. It may be the last thing I ever do as a sports journalist.

  I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do now. I have no job, no prospects. Soren isn’t going to write me a glowing recommendation anytime soon.

  As I’m finishing up, my phone starts ringing, and I know who it is.

  “Hi, Sean,” I say, answering it.

  “Hey there,” he says. “Where are you right now?”

  “I’m at the office.”

  A pause. “The paper?”

  “Yep.”

  “Why?”

  “I got fired. Or maybe I quit. I don’t know, it’s unclear.”

  Another pause. “Brynn—”

  “No, look. I wasn’t given a choice here.”

  “Brynn—”

  “Seriously. I’m not going to keep writing about you. I’m sick of being forced to use you like this. It’s just, I’m tired of it.”

  “Brynn, come on.”

  I take a breath and let it out. “Look, it’s done. I was given a choice, and I chose. Are you going to come get me or what?”

  He laughs softly. “I’ll meet you at your place, okay?”

  “Okay,” I say.

  I hang up and carry my box out to the parking lot. I get into my car and leave the Pioneer office for maybe the last time.

&n
bsp; I don’t feel sad. I should, but I don’t. I made my choice.

  I’m going to live with it, no matter what. No regrets in the end.

  I drive back to my apartment. I take the long way, take it easy, take it slow. I try to get my head right because I feel like I’m spinning.

  Sean’s parked out front when I get there. He smiles as he walks over to my car.

  “Hi, beautiful.”

  “Hey.” I get out. “Mind grabbing that?”

  “What’s a big, strong man for if not to carry your box full of crap?” He opens my back door and grabs my box from the back seat. He follows me up into my apartment, lugging the box along with him.

  We step inside. He puts it down in the corner and looks around. “Cute,” he says.

  “Thanks.” I roll my eyes at him. “Not exactly like yours, though.”

  “Who cares?” He looks around. “It’s you. I like it.”

  I cross my arms, suddenly feeling exhausted. He steps toward me, cocks his head.

  “Why did you quit, Brynn?” he asks softly. “I did that interview to save your job. And now you quit?”

  “I couldn’t keep letting Soren force me to write about you.” I bite my lip. “Well, it’s not entirely about you. If I let him push me with that, he’d push me on anything. I’m sorry, I just couldn’t.”

  He nods. “I get it.”

  “What am I doing to do now?”

  He smiles a little and steps closer. He grabs my hips and pulls me against him. “Now, you’re going to kiss me.”

  I look up as his lips press against mine. I kiss him, slow and deep. It feels good, tasting him like this.

  It feels like I made the right choice.

  It hits me all at once. The rightness of this, the need for this. I couldn’t keep writing about him and his team if I wanted to be with him for real.

  And sometime between our first meeting and now, I realized that I need to be with him. I needed it so badly, it almost wrecked me.

  Not now, though. It doesn’t matter now.

  “What am I going to do now?” I ask him as I pull away.

  He shrugs. “I don’t know.”

 

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