COACH (Boston Terriers Book 3)

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COACH (Boston Terriers Book 3) Page 9

by Jacob Chance


  “Don’t worry, I picked up on your keep your distance vibe from the first night we met. It’s the only reason why I haven’t.”

  I smile and shrug. “What can I say? I’m here to play ball, not find my next boyfriend.”

  “I’m not exactly boyfriend material, but if you want to have fun for a night or two I’m your guy.” He tips his head toward me and he smiles crookedly. “Anytime, anyplace, baby.”

  I roll my eyes. “I’ll pass, but if I’m ever desperate and horny you’re the first person I’ll call.”

  “Desperate and horny women are my specialty.”

  I giggle. “Good to know. Now I need to get back to work before Kip sees us talking and calls me in his office.”

  Stepping outside at the end of my shift, I pause and breathe in the late night air, ridding my nostrils of the lingering scent of stale beer and tortilla chips. The soft breeze is like a gentle caress coasting over my heated skin, cooling me down.

  Running a hand through my sweat dampened hair, I begin walking along the pitted sidewalk toward my dorm.

  “Amelia.” His deep voice has my feet freezing in place. The hairs on my forearms rise and unease prickles down my spine. This is the last thing I need right now.

  “It’s me, Zeke." He calls out as he steps out of the dark alley beside Goliath’s as if I don’t recognize his voice by now.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I'm waiting for you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re not walking home alone.”

  “Haven’t we discussed this already? You can’t walk me home every night.”

  “You’re too stubborn to ask for help - I’m not giving you the option. You’re stuck with me, so you might as well start walking.”

  “Whatever. It’s your time to waste.”

  “I don’t consider making sure you’re safe a waste of time.”

  “Wow, that’s kind of sweet of you. Who are you and what have you done with my assholish coach?”

  “Ha, you’re funny. Have you considered being a comedian instead of a football player?”

  Slowly we stroll, side by side as if this is a normal occurrence. To any outsider we look like a guy and girl walking home from their date and not a quarterback spending time with her extremely tempting and off limits coach.

  What would Zeke be like as a boyfriend? Would he escort me home from work each night? Tuck me into bed? After last night and this morning, I can’t help but wonder.

  Shit. I shouldn't be thinking about any of these things and I definitely can't give them serious consideration as if they're a possibility.

  The silence becomes too much for me as one thought niggles my mind until I blurt out, “What’s spurred this need to walk me home again? Is it because we kissed? Because I’m not going to turn into some clingy, stalker chick just because your tongue was in my mouth.”

  He chuckles. “You sure have a way with words, Amelia.”

  “I’m serious. You’re my coach and we’re supposed to stay away from one another.”

  “Speaking of that kiss, I think we need to talk about what happened.”

  “I think it’s pointless since we already know spending any time together is a bad idea. Don’t you think we’re inviting trouble?”

  “Probably, but I want to make sure you get home safe.”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t come to Goliath’s anymore.”

  “You really think that'll make a difference? We’re still going to see each other at practice.”

  “We will, but it will be easier to keep our distance when others are around.”

  Zeke's hand lands on my upper arm, halting me. Stepping forward he edges closer until we're inches apart and his fingers glide down clasping mine. I'm lost in his intense gaze as he leans forward.

  “You really believe that? Like this afternoon when I almost took you against my office door? Were you thinking about how the building was full of people? Were you wondering if we were going to get caught? Because I can tell you right now, I didn't think of another goddamn person besides you. You're a fucking eclipse blocking out everything else.”

  My heart pounds like a Maori drumbeat as I absorb his words. Oh, God. Why is he making this more difficult? “We got caught up in the heat of the moment. I’m almost positive it was the circumstances - a bit of insanity. Now that we got it over with, it will never happen again.” I know I’m lying to myself… to both of us, but someone needs to be the voice of reason.

  Releasing my hand, he grips my upper arm, tugging me along as he steps into a dark alley beside the nearest building.

  Is he going to kiss me again? I'm engulfed by panic when he presses my back against the rough brick exterior. Placing his palms on either side of my head, his mouth hovers above my lips.

  “Wha… what are you doing?” I stutter, looking up at him wide eyed.

  “Proving a point.”

  “What point?”

  Sweeping a dangling lock of dark hair from my eyes, he tucks the strands behind my ear and caresses the back of his fingers down my cheek. Every inch of me trembles from his touch. “That you want me as much as I want you. Ignoring our attraction won’t do a damn thing to help it dissipate. Maybe the answer isn’t to ignore it at all. Maybe we need to fuck each other out of our systems.”

  “No,” I gasp. “That’s not the answer.”

  “Do you have a better one?” he questions. Cupping my face, his palms slide along my cheeks, fingertips grazing my temples as his mouth presses a lingering kiss under my jaw.

  “No,” I moan, my lids drifting closed.

  “No, you don’t have a better idea? Or are you saying no because you want me to stop?” he whispers, his lips teasing the sensitive skin beneath my ear.

  “Hmm, the first,” I moan, tipping my head back.

  “I don’t know if I’m strong enough to stay away from you.” Kissing a path along my jawline and up my chin, he lightly brushes his lips back and forth on my mouth. It’s so gentle it feels like a butterfly kiss.

  “Being this close to you is intoxicating and exhilarating. I want to drag you deeper into the shadows and ravish every inch of your body.” But he doesn’t do that. Instead, he slows down the pace, leisurely gliding his lips from one corner of my yearning mouth to the other. I remind myself to savor these stolen minutes. They might be the last time his lips are on mine. God, I hope not.

  My arms raise until my fists clench in his hair. “Kiss me, dammit,” I growl, tugging tightly on his strands. He doesn’t need to be told twice. Capturing my lips with his, everything around us fades away as our tongues dance sensually together and our hands begin to explore. When the tempo becomes erratic as the hunger builds to an intensity so daunting I barely hang on to what little restraint I have left, he tears his mouth away.

  “Fuck. We can’t do this here.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Zeke

  Covering her mouth with one hand, her large brown eyes glimmer up at me reflecting the street lights. “We can’t do this at all.”

  “I think it’s a little late to say that. We just did.”

  “No.” She shakes her head emphatically. “We’ve only kissed a couple of times. It’s no big deal. Let’s just forget about it.”

  I laugh, but it’s one of frustration, not humor. “Fuck. Not this again,” I mutter, running a hand through my hair. Can she tell I’m annoyed with her dismissiveness? “Amelia, you need to be willing to admit this attraction isn’t going to just vanish.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because so far it hasn’t worked so well for us. I’ve been trying to stay away from you, but the sparks practically fly whenever we’re within fifty feet of each other.”

  “We’ve been fine until today. We even had dinner together last night.”

  “We did and I wanted to kiss you the entire night,” I confess. Raking a hand through my hair, I get lost deliberating how best to handle this situation. “Come on.” I hold my hand out for
hers, “Let’s get you home. We can discuss this some other time.”

  She surprises me by slipping her palm across mine without complaint until our fingers lock. Raising our hands up between us as we walk down the sidewalk, I study her small one. “I don’t know how you throw the football so well.”

  “Why?”

  “Because your hands are tiny.”

  “They’re not tiny, yours are just gargantuan.”

  “You know what they say about big hands?” She ducks her head, avoiding eye contact and I chuckle. “Big hands... big gloves. Get your mind out of the gutter, Amelia.” She tugs on her hand trying to pull free, but I’m not willing to let her go. “Oh no you don’t. You’re stuck with me for the next few minutes.”

  She snorts. “Lucky me.”

  We walk for the next two blocks enjoying the city and all the colorful characters there are to observe even at this late hour. Groups of twenty-somethings sitting on front stoops drinking beers and smoking cigarettes. They drunkenly sing and laugh as we walk by. Ignoring them, I glance over at Amelia and smile. I like spending time with her even when it’s equally as frustrating to keep my distance. I don’t remember Claire ever stimulating me conversationally like Amelia does. Our interactions are basically foreplay disguised as instruction on the football field or as simple conversation, but there’s so much underlying sexual tension it makes emotions run high. If we ever get to screw we might kill each other.

  “You better stay and let me go the rest of the way myself.” Amelia slows down.

  “I’m not going to leave you here. I’ll walk with you until I can watch you go in. I want to know you’re safe.”

  She wiggles her hand, signaling for me to let go. I release her reluctantly, but I know it’s necessary. We can’t give anyone a reason to suspect there’s anything between us. Walking her home two nights in a row is enough of a risk and if it wasn’t so late, I’d be more concerned. Also, it’s only July and there aren’t as many people on campus. Come the fall, we’ll have to be more careful.

  What am I saying? I need to get a grip on this shit and put a stop to it quick.

  “Have a good night.”

  “Thanks, Ze—Coach.” She grimaces at her slip up.

  “Sweet dreams, Amelia.”

  “Don’t forget we’re having a party tonight,” Owen reminds as he stands in front of the granite counter measuring out protein powder.

  “We’re having one, are we?”

  “Yep. Don’t worry, I invited Nick so you won’t be a miserable asshole the whole time.”

  “That’s big of you. Who’s going to clean up when this party is over? It’s not going to be me this time,” I warn remembering how I got suckered into it after the last bash.

  “Come on, don’t underestimate me. Some of the cheerleaders already agreed to help me clean up.”

  “I don’t care who helps as long as it’s not me and it gets done.”

  “Yes, dad. It will all be taken care of. Don’t give yourself a coronary over it.”

  “How many people are you expecting?” I’m afraid of the answer, but I’d rather have some warning so I can prepare myself. Owen and Trevor never do anything small when it comes to partying.

  “I’ve invited about fifty people and Trevor said he invited at least that. I think we’ll end up with about a buck fifty total.”

  “For Christ’s sake, Owen. Can’t you guys tone it down a little?”

  “You want me to be less outgoing?”

  “Yes, that’s exactly what I want.”

  “That’s boring. I’m not changing my gregarious nature because you’re a stick in the mud.”

  “I’m not a stick in the mud. I’m realistic. I don’t know how you plan to fit that many people in here at one time. It’s not a huge apartment.”

  “They won’t all be here at the same time and there are a couple other parties going on tonight. Although, ours is sure to be the best, especially since I invited Amelia, Grace, and Leah. I hope they told the rest of their team. I asked them to.”

  “You invited my team?”

  “I did. Pretty nice of me, huh?”

  “You’re the picture of selflessness,” I reply drolly.

  Slipping the navy polo on, I fold down the collar and glance in the mirror. Why am I worried about what shirt to wear? It’s just a party - a party Amelia will be at. In fact, she may already be here. I’ve spent the first hour locked away in my room, dreading interacting with all the people who are sure to show. I’m not antisocial by any means, but I don’t like conversing with random people I don’t really know or have no interest in knowing. And making small talk with drunk people gets old - fast.

  Maybe Trevor is right and I’m acting like an old man. I don’t know what it is, but since I graduated from college life has become so much more serious for me. Settling into my chosen career and thinking about my future took precedence over partying and now that I’m set on that path, I find it hard to push that focus aside on a split second notice.

  I’ve always been focused and goal oriented. Even my dating practices reflect that. My parents stressed the importance of being faithful and committing to your relationship. They’ve been happily married for twenty-seven years. I had a girlfriend for two years in high school and we continued when we started college. When I found out she cheated on me, I banged another chick later that night. I was young and dumb and thought that would help me forget, but the next day I felt like shit. I had my share of hookups, but once I met Claire she seemed like the one for me. I was devoted and faithful to her and never even thought of cheating. Too bad she didn’t show me the same respect.

  In the past year, I’ve purposely stayed away from anything resembling a romantic commitment or anyone looking to dig their claws into me hoping for one. No strings sex has been working just fine and I see no reason it has to change. Not even with Amelia. Although, I realize it might take more than one or two times of fucking her to get my fill of her. But I see no reason why we can’t be over our weird attraction by the start of the football season.

  Raking my fingers through my hair one final time, I leave my room. Stepping out into the hallway the noise level increases tenfold as my ears are assaulted by a cacophony of music and chatter. The deafening sound only increases in volume as I move closer to the living areas of our apartment. I’m stunned when I see wall to wall bodies, even though I shouldn’t be. Trevor and Owen have been roommates with me long enough to expect no less, but I’m still surprised.

  I exchange hellos and fist bumps with some of my old teammates from the Terriers before my eyes scour every inch of space for Amelia, but without the benefit of seeing her long dark hair or sleek muscles.

  When I’ve just about given up hope, I hear the tinkling sound of Amelia’s adorable laugh. My head turns to find her walking in the sliding glass door with Owen. Arm slung around her shoulder he doesn’t have a care in the world, and a shit eating grin twists his lips. Immediately, I head in their direction. I want to tear the smile from his face and tell him to get the fuck away from her. And to stay the fuck away. Somehow, I dig deep and paste a smile on my stiff lips, holding onto what little control persists.

  “Hey, Zeke, my man, I was wondering where you were,” Owen calls out when he notices me.

  My eyes dart to Amelia and I catch her nervously nibbling her bottom lip while looking in any direction but mine.

  “Owen, Amelia,” I nod in their direction, “What’s going on?”

  “This is a slamming party, bro. I told you it would be.”

  “Yeah, unfortunately you did.”

  “Don’t mind him, Amelia.” Owen shakes his head disapprovingly. “Zeke’s lost his ability to have fun.”

  “Ooh, that sounds serious,” she jokes and they both laugh.

  “How much have you guys had to drink?”

  “Not enough to get Amelia to agree to sleep with me.”

  “What?” I bark out. Owen laughs, angering me more.

  “Owen, you ne
ver asked me, not that I’d ever agree anyway,” Amelia chimes in.

  “I know, I’m just messing with Zeke. He keeps warning me to stay away from you and your teammates. I like to fuck with him about it whenever I can. It’s nice to see him worked up about something. Since he broke up with his ex, he’s been a moody prick who doesn’t care about anything but work.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Amelia

  How long ago did he break up with his ex? And why does the thought of him having an ex fill me with an insane sense of jealousy? Surely, he’s had many girlfriends just like I’ve had boyfriends. Was he in love with his ex-girlfriend? Maybe he still has feelings for her and the Terriers are just a distraction to keep his mind occupied.

  “Fuck off, Owen. I haven’t been a moody prick for the past fourteen months.”

  It’s been fourteen months since they broke up and he knows how long it’s been. Does that mean he is hung up on her? Crap. I know I’m just a player on his team, but I don’t want him to desire anyone else. I don’t want to be in competition with an ex. That never ends well. It’s impossible to measure up to someone when they’ve been placed on a pedestal. Then again, why do I care? He’s your coach. Get a grip, Amelia.

  “Well you did let that bitch do a number on you.”

  “I’m over that bitch, as you’ve so eloquently named her. Everything that happened with us is for the best. I don’t regret breaking up with her. I only wish I had sooner.”

  Okay, she’s not on a pedestal. I’m slightly mollified by his words.

  “It’s time for me to take my leave of you two. Amelia, oh heart of mine, try not to miss me too much while I mix and mingle.”

  I snort. “It won’t be easy, but I’ll do my best to cope without you.”

  “Don’t worry, babe, I’ll be back for you later.” He walks backward away from where we stand.

  “Don’t do me any favors,” I call out, flashing him my middle finger and a smile.

 

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