COACH (Boston Terriers Book 3)

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COACH (Boston Terriers Book 3) Page 20

by Jacob Chance


  “Oh no, don’t start that stuff. You’re the one who insisted we wait. Therefore, you need to be the epitome of strength.”

  “You’re right. We got this.” I nod confidently. “Remember, no flirtatious glances or bending over in front of me. Wear longer shorts, and baggy t-shirts too.”

  “What? I don’t remember hearing those rules.”

  “They’re brand new. I came up with them just now.”

  “You can’t be an asshole at practice. You have to be nice.”

  “Why?”

  “Because when you’re a jerk it makes me hot and bothered. All I can think of is tearing your clothes off and riding you on the field.”

  I groan, fighting off the wave of desire. “Nice try. I know you hate when I’m an asshole.”

  “Dammit. That’s not fair.”

  “Who said anything about being fair?”

  “I better go before someone sees me getting out of your truck.” Her eyes flick to mine, reflecting her sadness at leaving.

  “Hang in there, baby. We can do this.”

  “I know. We can do anything together.”

  Drawing the sheet up to my waist, I stare up at the ceiling and think about Amelia. What I wouldn’t give to have her here with me, to be holding her in my arms at this exact moment. I can be patient knowing our day will come and we’ll never be apart again. Soon, we’ll be together and nothing will stand in our way.

  Glancing at the alarm clock on my nightstand I notice it’s just after midnight. One day down. Smiling, I reach for my phone and type out a text to Amelia.

  Me: Thirty-nine days to go.

  Epilogue

  Amelia

  “Come on. You guys need to keep fighting until the last second. You’re only down by one touchdown,” Zeke encourages. “You’re about to get the ball back on the thirty yard line. Let’s make something happen.” He claps his hands three times. “Everyone stay on your assignments.”

  It’s the championship game and we’re down by seven with only two minutes left. Squirting one final sip of water in my mouth, I drop the bottle to the ground. Drawing in a deep breath, I close my eyes and remind myself of what I need to do. Calm down. You can do this.

  Zeke has had us practice the two minute drill so many times it should be second nature. This is just like any other game. Focus on one play at a time. Stay in the moment. Encouraging phrases repeat in my mind like a mantra as the Terriers’ offense takes the field for our last series of downs.

  We line up in the formation for the play Zeke called. The ball gets snapped to me and I take a step back before whirling around, narrowly missing being sacked. I run forward down the field for a gain of five yards before I’m slammed to the ground. It feels like a ton of bricks landed on top of me. My hip and shoulder throb painfully. I want to be slow to get up, but I can’t. Time is ticking away.

  My teammates and I huddle up and I quickly relay the play to them. “Stay on your assignments. I can’t get the ball to Leah if she’s not open or I’m sacked.”

  The ball’s snapped to me in the shotgun and I notice Leah’s open. The pass sails right into her arms and she runs for another ten yards before she’s shoved out of bounds roughly. The roar of approval from the Terriers’ fans is obscenely loud. That play was good for a gain of twenty-five total yards, placing us on their thirty yard line. And it’s first down.

  We run the next two plays without a lot of success or gains in yardage. It’s third down and if we don’t convert this down, we’re in trouble. There’s only twenty seconds on the clock as I catch the snap. Looking downfield I spot Leah flying toward the end zone. I sling the pass her way and it spirals through the air like it’s in slow motion. She catches it perfectly with both feet solidly down.

  Fans jump to their feet screaming and shouting. We don’t have time to savor the moment. If we want to win we need to go for the two point conversion. Immediately we line up as the final seconds are counting down. Handing the ball off to Grace, she dances through the other team’s defense like a freaking ballerina, right into the end zone completely untouched.

  Holy shit. We did it. We won.

  We all smash into each other in a giant mass of hugs and tears. “We are the champions,” Leah shrieks and I laugh through my tears.

  The rest of the team runs out onto the field and my eyes search for Zeke. I find him exchanging handshakes with the coaches from the opposing team. Celebratory music blares from the stadium speakers and red and white confetti rains down on us. I never want this moment to end. There’s only one thing that would make this better. Searching for Zeke, I find him walking toward me. He smiles and I return one back. Both of us are beaming with pride and accomplishment. This is our victory in more ways than one.

  He pulls me into his arms. “We did it, baby.” He stares down into my teary eyes. I know he’s not only referring to the win. We made it through the forty days and now there’s nothing holding us back. Pressing his mouth to mine, he urges my lips apart and devours me with his tongue. My fingers dig into the top of his shoulders and then climb up to tug on his hair.

  He pulls away and rests his forehead on mine. “God I’ve missed you. So fucking much.”

  “Me too, but now you’re stuck with me. You’re going to see me so much you’ll be sick of me.”

  “That’ll never happen. I want to steal you away for the next six months to make up for lost time.”

  “How about if we just go back to your place and become reacquainted?”

  “I like how you think. And I already asked Trevor and Owen to give us some time alone.”

  “I love a man with a plan.”

  It took much longer than I hoped to get back to Zeke’s place. We had to finish celebrating with the team, and Mark announced that Zeke would no longer be part of the coaching staff. The girls were stunned and outwardly sad about the news. I think they figured out why he resigned when he took me in his arms and planted a knee quaking kiss on me. There was a lot of hooting and hollering that only encouraged him to bend me backwards and keep it going. When we pulled apart there were some wide eyes aimed our way. My man can kiss. It’s amazing to be able to refer to him as that. No more secrets.

  “I’m so happy,” I sigh. Zeke pulls me closer until my head rests on his shoulder. We’re cuddled together on his couch, listening to some music. Both of us are enjoying the freedom of being able to do whatever we want. “I can’t believe we made it to this day. It felt like it would never arrive.”

  “I know. It could’ve been worse, though. At least we got to see each other all the time. If I hadn’t been able to look at this beautiful face I wouldn’t have made it.”

  “Are you positive you’re not going to regret giving up the coaching job?”

  “I am. Besides, I got offered a job as the assistant offensive coach for the guy’s team.”

  “That’s fantastic. Are you going to accept?”

  “I’m not sure yet, but I’m leaning towards no. You see, I have this girl I’m in love with and I’d like to spend as much time with her as I can.”

  “She sounds pretty lucky.”

  “Oh, she is,” he boasts with a wide grin stretching his lips. “I have something for you.” Zeke rises to his feet. “I’ll be right back.”

  Glancing around the room, my eyes take in the Boston University Terriers framed poster on the wall. It’s the same logo as the tattoo the guys all have. I haven’t been here since the party I came to and I never got a chance to look around and take it all in. I was too concerned with someone catching on to the fact that Zeke and I were hot for one another.

  Shifting my weight, I sit up straight and take in the streamlined television cabinet. Low to the ground, the double doors on the front are shut, most likely hiding a porn collection. I giggle at the thought.

  “What are you laughing at?”

  “I was just imagining a large porn stash in your T.V. stand.”

  He laughs, “If there is, it’s not mine. That’s what the internet i
s for.” He sits down next to me and hands over a blue gift bag. The first thing I notice is a black picture frame. Removing it from the bag I find a list he’s printed out and framed behind glass.

  “I wrote down a reason why I love you every single day we spent apart. I’d add one as soon as I woke up. You were the first thing on my mind each morning. And every night before I’d go to bed I’d text you reminding you we made it through one more day. You were the last thought I had before I’d fall asleep. I’d picture you smiling at me and I knew that no matter how tough this time apart was it would all be worth it in the end.

  And now I can look at you when I wake up and hold you close when I fall asleep. Those will be two more things I love about you.”

  “Oh, Zeke. This is perfect. It shows me that you were thinking about me as much as I was thinking about you.”

  Forty reasons why I love you. One for each day we were apart.

  You make those short shorts look so good.

  Your commitment to finishing a meal.

  You wear football pads better than anyone I know.

  You smell like fruit.

  You taste sweet and spicy on my tongue.

  You’re not afraid to put me in my place.

  You wear a bikini like no other.

  You look like a mermaid when you skinny dip.

  Hearing you say cunt turns me on.

  You give a mean blow job. (It was just one time, but I’ve been living on the memories)

  You kiss me like you’re starved for me.

  Your beauty is natural.

  Your athleticism is impressive.

  Your work ethic.

  Your waitressing skills.

  You’re kind to everyone.

  You like my friends.

  You’re low maintenance.

  The way you say coach sounds sexy and makes me think of teaching you so many things.

  The way you look at me makes me feel like I can do anything.

  Your lips...shit I’m getting hard just thinking about them...and what they can do.

  Your competitive nature.

  You throw a mean spiral.

  Your forgiving heart.

  Your chocolate brown eyes.

  The way you dig your nails into my shoulders when we kiss.

  The way you look under me.

  The way you look riding me.

  The way you look twenty-four-seven.

  You’re goal oriented.

  You fit in my arms perfectly.

  Your maturity.

  Your intelligence.

  Your low-key lifestyle.

  You can defend yourself.

  You don’t take shit from anyone.

  You’re a rule follower.

  Your legs should be listed as a lethal weapon.

  Your smile could bring about world peace.

  You love me.

  When I finish reading the list tears are trailing down my cheeks. “I love you, Zeke Kingston. I can’t wait to let the whole world know.”

  “I have one more gift for you. Look in the bag.”

  Reaching inside I find a small black box. Flipping up the cover, I find a white gold necklace and whistle charm. “Oh, how cute. It’s adorable.”

  “Flip it over.”

  Turning the charm in my fingers I read the words engraved on the back. COACH knows best. I laugh. “Is this supposed to be a reminder?”

  “Do you need one?”

  “Maybe from time to time.”

  “Then you’re all set.”

  “I have something for you, also. It’s just a small token of my appreciation for working so hard with us all season.” Reaching forward, I rifle through my purse on the coffee table until I find the small white box. “Here you go.” He takes it from my hand, a smile teasing the edges of his lips as he removes the cover. He chuckles when he sees the silver whistle engraved with the words #1 COACH. He slips the black cord over his head and the whistle settles just below his muscular pecs.

  “I love it.”

  “You don’t really need one now, though.” My tone is a little sulky. “I thought I’d gotten the perfect gift.”

  “My coaching days won’t be over forever. Besides I think this can come in handy.”

  “How so?”

  “We can play Coach says.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

  I giggle and stare at him with wide eyes. “What’s Coach says?”

  “It’s like Simon says, but instead you do what Coach says. Have you ever been tied up?”

  “No.”

  “Coach says lay down on the couch.” He grins wickedly as I comply. My heart pounds excitedly. “Coach says hold out your hands.” I stretch my arms out and he winds the thin, black cord around them. I’m a little breathless by the time he’s done. He leans forward, hovering over me. “You’re good at this game already.” He winks. “See, best gift ever.”

  THE END

  Enjoy COACH?

  Have you read the first two books in the Boston Terriers Series, PENALTY and DRIVE?

  Check out Brady and Harlow’s story HERE

  Check out Nick and Carter’s story HERE

  Make sure you add the next book in The Boston Terriers Series to your Goodreads TBR

  TACKLE

  TACKLE

  Boston Terriers #4

  Want to know how Trevor and Grace’s story starts. Read on for an exclusive sneak peek at the prologue of TACKLE.

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  PROLOGUE

  Grace

  “Come on, guys.” Owen’s frustration is evident as a deep scowl sinks between his brows. He’s not pleased our team scored the first touchdown. It doesn’t matter that this is a friendly girls against the guys game of beach football. He’s out for blood.

  The guys’ team huddles together with muffled voices to keep us from hearing their strategy. We circle up in our own group to plan our defense. When no one says anything I start in, “We need to shut them down on this drive. Make them go three and out. Rip their hearts from their chests. Show them we’re not pushovers.” Owen’s not the only one who’s taking this game seriously.

  Amelia cracks each knuckle on her right hand before repeating the process on the left. The loud pops have me grimacing. She flicks a glance over at the guys and leans forward to whisper, “I’m confident Owen’s going to throw the ball. They want to come out hard and show us who our daddies are.” We all snort and laugh. “If he throws, it’ll be to Trevor. Those two play together on the Terriers. He’s most comfortable with him.” Amelia aims her brown gaze my way. “You can shut that down, right?”

  I smile confidently. “Hell yes. Trust me, I’ve got this.”

  Because we’re operating with no kickers they line up on our makeshift field where the twenty yard line would fall. Shifting into place across from them, we wait for Owen’s count and watch for the snap. My heart races with adrenaline as the seconds tick by.

  Once the ball’s in motion it’s similar to a switch being flipped and we move at an accelerated pace. Everything happens faster than one can imagine and we need to stay focused for the entire play.

  Trevor skirts past me, making a break down the sideline. I bolt after him, but this fucker is fast. The dry sand kicks up as he runs pelting me. Forcing myself to ignore my stinging, grit filled eyes, I squint and push on. I can’t let this entitled asshole get the best of me.

  Digging deep in the pit of my stomach, I find the last reserve of energy. Bursting forward, my feet churning up more sand behind me, I notice Trevor’s sweat glistening back getting closer with each stride. His arms outstretched, the ball sails right into his hands like a missile locked on its target. Fuck.

  Gritting my teeth, I power on and launch myself forward tackling him. I don’t think Trevor expected me to catch up and as a result I’m able to knock him off his feet.

  Hurtling toward the ground, he fumbles the ball to the side. Twisting his upper body as he bobbles the ball from one larg
e hand to the other. The pigskin eludes his grasp falling to the sand.

  I never spared a thought about how painful my landing would be until now, as I’m about to slam into the ground face first. Trevor’s muscular arms catch me around the waist just before we crash to the ground. A cloud of sand erupts all around us like a desert storm as his back takes the brunt of our impact. He doesn’t make a sound as he absorbs all my weight cushioning and protecting me from injury.

  Silence and a haze of dust enshroud us in our own bubble. “Are you okay?” he questions in a deep rasp his arms holding me tight. His lips press against the shell of my ear firing off sparks from my head to my sandy, bare toes. Dragging in a deep breath, I notice the scent of his golden, sunbaked skin combined with sunscreen and a hint of whatever masculine soap he uses. Altogether, the smell is intoxicating. And so is the hard body beneath me. His heart thuds against my chest and I wonder if he knows mine’s racing just as fast. Can he feel the press of my taut nipples through my bikini top?

  Nuzzling my nose against his neck, I savor the scent of him once more. He groans, adjusting his position allowing me to feel his steely length pressing against my slit. Oh fuck me. This isn’t good. This is the same guy who drives me crazy on an almost daily basis. The one who I can’t stand because he’s lived a life of privilege. He’s never known what it’s like to struggle to keep food on the table and he never will.

  Immediately I scramble to my feet and scuttle backward away from Trevor. He opens his mouth to say something and I whirl around to face our friends. My cheeks are on fire from embarrassment and arousal. Can everyone tell?

  I jog over to the cooler and pop the lid open with a sharp snap. Bending down, hands on my knees I use the top as a shield from prying eyes while I suck air in raggedly. What’s wrong with me? Why is Trevor Lincoln affecting me so much? Sure, he’s attractive, but I’ve never wondered what it would be like to kiss his masculine lips. Until now.

 

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