Only You

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by Bishop, K. M.


  “Sure,” I replied. “I’ll follow you.”

  “Oh, yeah…” the coach chuckled as he led the way out of his office. I watched him waddle his overweight, middle aged body down the hallway with the energy of a slug. I wasn’t sure if the coach had ever actually been an athlete at one time, or if he just depended upon the athletic performance of college kids to live out his fantasies, but it was hard to imagine him ever doing anything on an athletic field that involved actual athletics.

  “Oh, here is your office, by the way,” the coach said as he stopped and pointed to his right.

  I was going to have an actual office? I had not expected that. I figured I would maybe have a desk somewhere in the corner of the field house, or some kind of a makeshift exam room where I could take a look at an injured player, but this was a nice surprise.

  The room looked more like the size of a small prison cell. It was about nine feet by nine feet with no windows, a sickly looking light above it that cast the room in a dingy, ominous glow, and the walls were a ghastly green color that reminded me of vomit.

  My desk was small, but serviceable with a work laptop included. That was a nice touch.

  “All of your login information is on that post it notes on the top of the laptop for your computer and your work email to get started. Of course, you can change it whenever you like.”

  I smiled at Smith and stepped into my tiny office, where I sat down my satchel and the jacket I was holding in my hand. It was hot as blazes in the locker room and I could feel myself already sweating profusely. The place had little in the way of proper air ventilation and I noted to myself that I should probably bring in a humidifier and a portable fan/heater for myself.

  After checking out the office, I continued to follow the coach down to the conference room where I would meet the players. They had just finished practice, and would no doubt be sleepy and ready to get out of there. I doubted they would want to take the few minutes to meet me and get debriefed by the coach. I imagined he was not a fun coach to play for, not at all. I could tell by his smarmy demeanor that he was a man who craved power, and used any he had ever been given to abuse his underlings.

  That was the way of the world sometimes, it would seem.

  “Here we are,” Smith said. He pushed open a door and this led me into a room filled with young men, just adjacent to the locker room. I could smell the aroma of sweat and masculine grit as I entered the room. I tried to distract myself from it, but it was a bit of an alluring smell. I was getting slightly aroused. I figured that might happen. After all, I was in the present of elite athletes. These men were young, virile, and talented warriors. I was now in their presence. Even though I was only three years older than the seniors, I felt so much older than they were. I wasn’t sure why.

  “Alright, boys!” Smith bellowed. “This here is Maria Charles. She is the new team doctor. I want you to give her a big hand for coming here on such short notice.”

  The team began to clap as they saw me walk into the room behind the coach and stand in the center of the front. There was a lectern a few feet away from me and I was tempted to slowly walk over and hide behind it, but I didn’t. I stayed put and struck a powerful pose with my hands on my hips. I wanted to appear confident and to let them know that I was a professional and that I would be there for them when they needed me. I knew that they might dismiss my age instantly since I had just gotten out of school. They weren’t stupid and it would be easy to lose any bit of credibility I might have had with them in an instant.

  But it was a bit of a different story.

  The moment I stepped out in front of them I saw the looks in their eyes. They were now looking at me much the same way the coach was looking at me. Their eyes widened, and wide smiles spread across their faces. Some stood up and applauded while other just slapped high fives. Most of them were hooting, hollering, and throwing out cat calls towards me.

  I felt the red of embarrassment flooding my face almost instantly, but it was soon replaced by anger. How dare these bastards treat me with such little respect? I wasn’t about to stand for it. I waited a moment for the noise to die down, which the coach did little to derail, and then I began pacing around the room.

  “Go ahead,” I said. “Get it out of your system.” My voice was loud and stern. The anger was apparent, but I was not emotional. I was going into this with a specific pacing in mind. I had to appear confident and in charge. I had to take this stance now or they would run over me and it would turn this into a very toxic work environment. I could imagine several times a day seeing players coming to me for “pulled groins” that they needed massaged, or hot lotion applied to. I was aware of all the tricks. No. That stopped now.

  The players quieted almost instantly when I began to speak. I continued without missing a beat. “I am your new team doctor whether you like it or not. There will be nothing between you and me but the utmost of a professional working relationship. I will do my best to treat your injuries and illnesses that may accrue during the course of your play, but that will be the end of it. I take my job very seriously, and I do not stand my time being wasted. If any of you have any preconceived notions about wasting my time in any way, then I’m sure that the athletics board and the school board will be very interested in hearing about it. This is a serious matter that can have an adverse effect on your athletic careers. Do you understand me?”

  The players all began to mumble and grumble amongst themselves. I repeated louder this time. “Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” “Yes!” “Absolutely.” “Crystal.”

  They were starting to get the message. As I finished my speech and my lap around the room, one player in particular caught my eye. He was gorgeous. I couldn’t take my eyes off him for a moment. He was tall with medium length blonde hair, bright, piercing blue eyes, and a sweet, yet mischievous smile that made my heart palpate. He almost made me forget what I was doing. I was enamored with him.

  It took me a few beats, but I was able to get it back together and return to the front of the room by Coach Smith.

  “Well, are there any questions?” Smith asked.

  He seemed to be impressed as well by my little speech. He was no longer giving me the googly eyes and acting like as much of a creep as he had before. That was good. I just hoped he remembered that and kept his eyes where they belonged and off my ass.

  The team shook their heads and mumbled “No.” All except for the player I still could not stop staring at. He was smiling warmly at me. I was so damn curious about him. What was his name? What did he play? How did he play?

  Stop it, I told myself. I was bound to be attracted to some of these players from time to time, but as I told them, this was strictly professional and nothing else would ever go on here.

  The coach ended the meeting and I went back to my office to get settled in. I was tired. I’d spent the entire day before unpacking and getting settled in, doing most of it by myself. The moving men put the boxes and furniture in the right rooms, but that was really all. I would be unpacking for a week or two at least.

  I felt like going home and taking a nice nap, but I wanted to get settled into my new role. This was fun and exciting. I logged into my work laptop, checked into my email, and then reset the passwords. It had been lying there open with the information for all to see for who knew how long. The laptop appeared nice and functional. I guess the school spent money where it really counted.

  I set up my desk the way I wanted it and made a mental note to myself that in addition to the fan, I was going to get a dorm fridge to put in there as well. It was a long walk to the soda machine and that could become expensive as well.

  After I was all set up I went back home to my new rental house, which was located only about two miles off campus. It was a nice little neighborhood without much noise or traffic. I was going to like it there, I felt.

  I sank down into my couch and opened up a fresh beer. It had been a long day, but it was exciting and I was anxiou
s to start working and getting to know the players. Still, as I sat there sipping a beer and watching some DVD’s (the cable guy would be there first thing in the morning to install my internet) I could not stop thinking about that man I had seen. He was the sexiest guy I may have ever laid eyes on. There was just something about him. He seemed very strong, and sweet, but easygoing. I wished I knew his name. I figured I would find it out at some point in the near future.

  As I finished the beer, I decided to pop open another one. It was that kind of night. The stress of moving was something I wouldn’t have wished on my worst enemy. And the stress of starting a new job—a career, actually—which I had my heart set on for fifteen years or more, was enough to warrant a second beer.

  But imbibing that second alcoholic beverage did lower my inhibitions enough for some of the creative voices to begin speaking to me in ways they shouldn’t have. Before I realized what I was doing enough to stop myself, I was looking up the team online and checking out the profile of every single player on the team. I knew who I was looking for. And soon, I stumbled across his profile. There he was. Wow, he was fine.

  Jacoby Wynn. Twenty-two years old, a standout star wide receiver. He was interesting. His picture was great. There was something so mesmerizing about his eyes, that smile, and the way he carried himself. He had a quiet self-assurance that radiated to those around him. It was unintentional and organic. He was a natural born leader. And I couldn’t stop looking at him.

  And then I couldn’t stop myself from finding as much about him as I could online and social media. What I was doing was strange—I knew this—and it was against everything that I knew was right. I was just feeding the fantasy in my head here.

  But it was so strong. I wanted this man so badly. Ugh… why was I torturing myself? What in the hell was I doing? I had to step back and just not feed this fantasy anymore, or I might find myself crossing line, even in my head, that I wouldn’t be able to take back.

  I closed my lap top and went back to my DVD, some slasher movie. I’ve always loved horror stuff for some reason. They have always amused me. And it was something that would take my mind off the craziness of my growing obsession with Jacob. Was that what it was? An obsession?

  No. It was a mild infatuation. I was lonely. I was far away from everyone I knew. The romance department had been closed to me for a long time it would seem, and I found myself feeling very close to a sexy man that I had encountered. But I hadn’t even thought of the fact that I hadn’t yet really interacted with him. Hell, I might not ever. It was probably for the best if I didn’t.

  After I finished the movie, I went to bed. I was tired and feeling a little buzzed from the beers (I’ve always been such a lightweight). As I drifted off to sleep, I found myself wishing that I didn’t have these feelings about anyone on the team. It was normal, I told myself. People working together were going to form attractions, but most of the time they did nothing about them. Either it was unprofessional or inappropriate to do so, or they were involved with other people. I just had to realize that I was in control of my emotions.

  I was in charge of me.

  Chapter Five

  Jacob

  I walked into the locker room and began to put on my pads for practice. The day had been full of classes, working on a term paper through lunch, a grueling weight workout, and now I was ready to hit the field and begin my real day. It was a grind, but I felt lucky to have it. And so far, that day, I’d heard nothing from Irene. Maybe she’d had time to cool off and nothing else would come of things. That was my hope anyway.

  My mind had been preoccupied by something else though. Ever since the day before when we had met our new team doctor, my head had been filled with images of her. She was stunning, to say the least. In fact, she was one of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen. I couldn’t stop thinking about her.

  And the way she handled the team when they started acting stupid—that was beautiful. She was tough and strong, which matched her beauty. That together was a list of qualities that turned me on to the max. What a woman.

  I knew from the moment I saw her that I wanted her, but I’d put the idea as far back in my mind as it could go because I knew that it would never happen. Hell, if something ever did develop between the two of us, and we were discovered, we both would have been in a huge amount of trouble. I would have been kicked off the team. I would lose my scholarship as well. She would no doubt be fired and blacklisted from ever practicing sports medicine again. So, nothing good would come from such a thing.

  And besides, after that speech, any of us would have been fools to test those waters.

  I laughed to myself as I finished getting dressed. It was a fun idea to think about, though. I’d even gone so far as to look her up online. She had most of her social media set to private, but I’d been able to find a couple small articles about her online. Nothing much, though. I would have delved a bit deeper, but at this point I started feeling like some creepy pervert and let it go.

  “So, what do you think?” Bobby asked snapping me from my thoughts.

  “About…?” I replied.

  “Don’t give me that. Everyone is talking about her. The new doc—Maria. Wow, what a fox.”

  I smiled. “Well, you’d better get those ideas out of your head if you don’t want kicked off the team. She sounds like a tough cookie.”

  “I know. That’s another thing that makes her so damn hot.”

  I had to agree, but I decided that the less we talked about this, the better it would be.

  “Hey, can I borrow your camera?” Bobby asked.

  “What for?”

  “I have a big project due in my journalism class and my camera crapped itself. I’m a bit short on funds. But I need to take some pics.”

  “Why can’t you just get pics online?”

  He groaned. “Dude, that’s lame. I want to do well in this class.”

  “It’s an elective. Why are you so worried about it?”

  “Because it will drag down my average. I’m not the superstar you are; I might not get that pro contract after graduation. I might have to get a real job.”

  “Oh, that would be a tragedy,” I teased. Bobby was a great player, but he was always selling himself short. And he was the most conscientious of us all when it came to grades and actually studying. I tended to be a procrastinator to the extreme. Then I would cram it all together at the last minute and pray for the best.

  “Fine,” I said. “But be careful with it.”

  “Thanks,” Bobby replied.

  Just then out of the corner of my eye, I saw the reflection of the beautiful form of Maria Charles walking by the locker room, her beautiful shape reflecting from one glass to another. Several of us were naked and in various stages of undress. Just knowing that she was so close to rounding a corner and seeing us all in our glory was kind of a turn on. I imagined myself walking out of the shower only to have her turn the wrong corner and enter the forbidden zone just to take a look at what she might find. She would see me standing there with myself in hand, whacking my hard member into my palm, getting it nice and warmed up for her sweet, wetness.

  Oh, damn… I had it bad for that woman. I wondered if she ever got turned on by the idea. She was a human being after all. We are sexual creatures and she looked like she might be as sexual as any of us, or at least she as in my fantasy of course. Surely, the universe wouldn’t have put together such a fine labyrinth of perfectly formed molecules as she to just tease the rest of us. She had perfect genetics and my lust was primed accordingly.

  I finished getting dressed, carefully putting my cup over my now hardened member, grabbed my helmet, and jogged out to the field. I loved this time of the year. It still felt like summer, but leaning more towards early autumn.

  The excitement of another day of playing ball was exciting to me, as it always was. I still felt the way I did when I was a kid and the school let out for summer and while all my friends were playing baseball, I was more focused on
preparing for the upcoming football season. Baseball was fine, and I played that as well. I was good, a decent second baseman, but my heart was not in it nearly as much as football. There was just something about touching that beautiful ball, wearing these elaborate pads, and testing my physical strength against another’s—it had always been inside of me. It was a true calling.

  The practice started fairly simply with some field exercises and then some running drills. Afterwards we broke up into our A and B teams to do a practice scrimmage and put some of the plays into action. At first all was fine and well. I was feeling good. Chance was drilling the ball right into my chest with pinpoint accuracy on every single throw and I was easily outrunning the tackles being applied to me.

  And then it happened. I can still remember it so vividly. I saw the ball spiraling through the air as I ran out for it. I turned around halfway and ducked out of the way of the defender who was trying to take me down and possibly steal the ball for himself, and I leapt up into the air to grab the ball that had been just a little bit overthrown. Chance had a rocket launcher for an arm.

  I grabbed the ball out of the air, and the moment I landed started to take off running towards the end zone. But then it happened. I was hit in the side by a tackle and sent flying to the ground hard. The moment I hit the ground, I was a bit confused. I had no idea where that other tackle had come from. But I was not out of the woods yet. A moment later a second defender plowed into me as I bounced off the ground, hitting me helmet to helmet it and throwing my head around like some kind of a demented sock puppet.

 

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