Scorched Turf

by Lilah Grey

  “Oh,” she said, tilting her head. A smile spread across her lips as she picked up her plate and stood up.

  “What do you mean, ‘Oh’?”

  Violet set the plate down in the sink, and after rinsing it off, turned around, folded her arms, and said, “Nothing. It’s just… interesting.”

  “How so?”

  Violet walked over to her chair and sat back down. “It’s not my place to say anything, but…”

  “But you’re going to tell me anyway,” I said, flatly.

  “That’s what best friends are for,” she said, laughing. “You might not think that there’s anything going on, but I do. And that’s not a bad thing. Not at all. I noticed a change in your demeanor a few weeks ago, maybe a little longer. You’ve been happier. More energetic. And much more optimistic, too. Even in Dr. Collins seminar.”

  She sipped her coffee.

  “I tried to figure out a reason for the chance, and thought that you might have met someone. I remember when you first started dating Ty—” Violet cringed. “Sorry. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.”

  I laughed. I loved how Violet compared Tyler to Voldemort. She started doing it shortly after we broke up, and it stuck. I didn’t care if she said his name or not. I was done with Tyler.

  “When you started dating him. The same change happened.” She looked up, thinking. “I just want you to be careful.”

  “There’s no reason to worry. There’s absolutely nothing going on between us. Nothing can happen between us. He’s my coach and my stepbrother and if that boundary is crossed, Coach Kay would kick both of us off the team in a heartbeat.”

  “Alright,” Violet said. “Alright.” She walked around the table and gave me a hug.

  “So how’s it going with Dr. Collins?”

  Violet immediately let go of me and strolled out of the kitchen. “I have no idea what you are talking about. There’s nothing going on between us.”

  “Uh-huh.” I mimicked the same tone she took with me. “That sounds familiar.”

  “Ugh.”

  “Don’t ugh me,” I said, turning around in my chair.

  “Don’t forget your Method’s paper topic is due today.”

  Ugh…

  I reread James’s text and every anxious feeling melted away.

  “What the hell’s gotten into Rylee?” I asked Chloe. We’d just finished practice for the day and were sitting on the grass, unlacing our cleats. My feet were sore, but the moment I finally removed my cleats I had instant relief.

  “What do you mean?” Chloe said with a playful lilt. “She’s such a delightful person to be around. Don’t you think?”

  I laughed. “A real pleasure.” I pulled down my socks, unstrapped my shinguards, and let them air out.

  Normally, it wouldn’t bother me; we all had our bad days. But this wasn’t a bad day; it had been a bad month. It started well before our first game, but her mood had become increasingly foul since then. When she actually showed up…

  She’d missed two practices in the past week; she’d bitched out a handful of the new recruits for minor mistakes; she snapped at anyone who tried to calm her down.

  Something had to change. I’m not sure how much more Coach Kay was willing to endure. I don’t know how much more I, or the rest of the team, could endure.

  Chloe sniffed the dirty socks she’d just rolled off her legs and made a gagging sound. Thankfully, she didn’t gag. Instead, she tossed them into her bag, along with her shinguards and cleats and zipped it up tight. She sat there for a moment, toes curling into the grass as she gazed across the field.

  “From what I’ve heard, things aren’t too hot between her and Tyler.”

  “Wonderful,” I said. “I’m so glad our team can be her personal, therapeutic punching bag.”

  “She’s lucky that she hasn’t snapped at me. Or you. I’d have noooo problem straightening her out. She’s had it coming for a while now. Ever since…” Chloe faded out.

  “It’s fine. I’m over it. Really.”

  “Well…” Chloe said with a wistful smile, “if she does…”

  “I know, Chloe. I know.”

  I pulled my phone out of my bag as we walked to the locker rooms. No text from James. Disappointment rose in me. The only text he sent in the past week was to let me know that he’d be staying an extra week because there’d been torrential rains interrupting the shoot.

  I thought a little time away from him would do me some good. Maybe figure some things out. I guess it had, in a way. With him gone, I’d realized how much I enjoyed his presence in my life; how dependent I’d become on his praise and encouragement.

  Violet was right; I needed to be careful.

  Rylee stomped over to me after she lost yet another possession. “Corinne, what the fuck!?”

  Was she serious? I ignored her, focusing instead on what actually mattered: the game going on right now. It was our second game, and even though we had a three-point lead, switching attention to something as pointless as Rylee’s tirade wasn’t on my radar.

  “Corinne!”

  “Get back to your position,” I said without turning my head. “The game’s still going on in case you haven’t noticed.”

  Rylee pushed me, and I stumbled sideways, tripping over my feet. Thankfully, I remained upright. Could the referee card a player for fighting with their teammate? Probably. And if that were the case, one of us was about to get a red card.

  “What’s your problem?” I snapped. “You’re the one who’s trying to take on the other team by yourself, not me.”

  “Rylee! Get back into position!” Coach Davis screamed. Coach Davis was one of the assistant coaches for the men’s team; he’d been filling in for James while he was away.

  Rylee glared at me but remained silent. Finally, she turned around and jogged back to her spot.

  I felt like I was in some crazy alternate reality. Coach Kay had to have noticed how poorly Rylee was behaving. And not to mention, how poorly she was performing in games. She hadn’t scored or made an assist in either game. She was lagging behind everyone.

  The game ended not much later. We won but it was bittersweet. Rylee was dragging us down with her selfishness. If we continued on this path, I don’t think we’d make it to the national tournament at the end of the year. Which meant I could kiss my shot at getting drafted goodbye.

  I kicked a clod of dirt. After a few moments, I rammed my heel into the turf, really dug into it. I wanted to scream, or at the very least vent to someone who’d understand my frustration.

  I needed to talk with James, but he was thousands of miles away, on a beautiful beach with blue waters.

  No wonder he hadn’t texted me. I’d lose my phone the moment I entered a paradise like that.

  23

  James

  “You…” Marybeth said, slapping my shoulder lightly as she teetered next to me. “You got me drunk.” It was less a statement than it was an accusation—a false one at that.

  She had staggered over to me at the bar earlier in the evening, spilling her drink on the girl I’d been chatting with. She slurred an apology, playing the role of a ditzy, clumsy drunk. It was all an act. I’d watched the bartender fill her glass with seltzer and lime; the same drink I’d been sipping throughout the night. At one point, he’d filled both our glasses at the same time.

  It was all part of her ploy to separate me from the girl; it worked. Not only did the girl leave to clean herself up, but Marybeth dragged me from the bar. She needed someone to make sure she got back to her hotel room safely. Can’t be too careful with the amount of shady characters prowling five-star resorts at night.

  I’d found the situation amusing. The very first comment out of her mouth before we’d introduced ourselves was to let me know, in no uncertain terms, that nothing would happen between us. It was a challenge I accepted on the spot. The distraction I needed.

  I turned to her, raising a brow. “Did I now?”

  She paused beside me but I kept walki
ng. We were a few feet away from the door to my room. I glanced back at her over my shoulder; she was pouting. It was a sexy, alluring pout, and I wanted to cup the back of her head, pull her into me, and taste those lips for myself. But I held off, just as I had multiple times these past few weeks.

  “Yes. You did,” she said, a trace of frustration lining her voice.

  I paused in front of the door to my room, which was across the hall from hers. I pulled out the keycard from my back pocket and turned my head to look at her. She was still frozen in the same spot, weight on one leg, arms folded across her chest.

  “I’m going to head in here.” I rapped my knuckles against the door. “Think you can manage your way back to your room?”

  Marybeth cast a smoldering look at me. It was the same one she’d had pinned to her face earlier in the evening while she sipped her seltzer and limes, staring at me and the girl. She stomped toward me without any hesitation or stumbling, stopping in front of her door. Apparently, she’d sobered up in record time.

  Although my back was to her now, I could feel her growing frustration as I listened to her riffle around in her purse.

  “Need help?” I asked, inserting my keycard into the slot.

  “I’m fine,” she huffed.

  Clearly.

  The lock beeped, the green light flashed, and I opened the door. I glanced back at Marybeth. She’d found her key, finally, and inserted it into the lock. It beeped, and she shoved the door open with enough force that it bounced off the guard and caught her in the shoulder.

  “You alright?”

  She flung her purse into her room.

  “Well, if you need anything,” I said, letting the sentence hang.

  I turned around, and just as I was stepping into my room, she grabbed my wrist and tugged me back.

  Marybeth stared at me with wild, lustful eyes, and before I had a chance to react, her hands were groping my face and neck as her lips mashed into mine. Her hands slid across my face and in my hair, gripping and tugging.

  For a moment there, I wasn’t sure if anything was going to happen. Maybe I’d acted too nonchalant or disinterested. Marybeth was used to men lavishing her with attention, but with me, she’d met a brick wall. A peculiarity and a challenge. Why wasn’t I making a move on her?

  Because if I had, we wouldn’t be here right now.

  I’d felt a crescendo building between us. From the moments we’d spent on top of each other, waiting as the photographer clicked away, trying to get the perfect shot. From the nights I spent talking to other women in the bar while Marybeth looked on. And now, after choosing to ignore her not-so-subtle hints, she’d finally reached her tipping point.

  We tumbled sideways into her room, and I kicked the door shut behind me. Marybeth kicked off her flats, jumped up and wrapped her legs around my waist. I cupped her ass through her thin dress and pinned her against the wall. Her shoulder smashed against a picture frame, knocking it off its hook and sending it crashing to the ground.

  I tugged harshly at the thin straps of her dress, tearing the fabric. My lips traced the edge of her collarbone and continued along her neck. She gasped and moaned, and I could feel her tremble in my arms.

  “James,” she rasped as her head rocked back.

  My cock throbbed as she rubbed herself against me. Her nails dug into my back as she scraped her teeth across her bottom lip, trying to stifle her moans. They came out in fits and bursts. Goosebumps had already erupted along her arms as I ran my hands down them.

  Her lips found mine again. They were soft and tasted sweet and citrusy, and I wanted to feel them wrapped around my cock. I hooked an arm around her back, sliding the other under her dress as I spun around on my heel. Her thin, athletic body was easy to direct, and she was more than willing for me to take the lead.

  I carried her the few feet between the door and the bed and set her down. Her hair splayed in a semicircle around her head as she lay on her back, eyeing me as she bit her lip.

  I grabbed the hem of her dress, and she repositioned herself, allowing me to pull it off her. I wrapped my left hand around the nape of her neck, weaving my fingers in her brown curls and pulling her mouth to mine.

  She let out a sharp gasp as my fingers slid over her slick mound. I tugged downward at her hair, breaking our kiss. Her mouth hung open while her eyes glazed over, her eyelids fluttering as she focused on her orgasm.

  “Don’t stop,” she begged as her legs began to tremble against my hand.

  “Not yet,” I growled. “I want to feel you cum on my cock.”

  She slid her hands down her stomach, to her slickness as she squirmed, watching me as I retrieved a condom from my wallet. I ripped the foil and slid the condom on.

  “Up,” I growled, directing her with my free hand. “All fours.”

  “So demanding,” she murmured as she obliged.

  “You have no idea.”

  Her pussy clenched against my cock as I slid inside her. “Oh fuck. You’re so—so—” Her voice trailed off as her head went slack.

  I grabbed a fistful of her hair, pulled back as I took her from behind. She gasped as I smacked her ass. “Harder,” she begged. Again and again she begged for more, and I could feel her body seize and shudder as an orgasm coursed through her.

  But I felt nothing. I felt hollow—a husk of a man who was going through the motions. The fuck was wrong with me?

  I continued to fuck her, hoping something would change, that this was just a momentary lapse. But there was nothing. This whole thing meant nothing to me, and for the first time, I asked myself what the fuck was I doing?

  The fuck are you doing, James?

  I couldn’t even recognize the voice in my head as my own. I pulled away from Marybeth, tore the condom off my cock, and tossed it into the waste bin. I sat on the side of the bed, the sheets bunched up in my fist as my heart raced in my chest.

  I could hear her voice, but the words weren’t registering. It felt as though I were underwater, and Marybeth stood at the surface, undulating, calling out to me. The room spun around me, and it was difficult to focus on any one thing, let alone my thoughts.

  The mattress shifted as she crawled towards me. Her hand slid across my back, stroking me in gentle circles.

  “What’s wrong?” she said.

  My grip slackened as the rest of my body unwound itself. I could breathe again, but my mind still swirled.

  “I’m fine,” I lied, “But I need to go. My stomach’s off.”

  “Why don’t you stay here and let me take care you?” she cooed in my ear as she wrapped her arms around me.

  I stood up, and her arms fell away from me. “Thanks, but you don’t have to do that,” I told her as I dressed.

  “But I want to,” she said.

  “Goodnight,” I said, leaving Marybeth behind on the bed.

  What the fuck was wrong with me?

  24

  Corinne

  A dark, empty gym.

  James was still in Hawaii, but that hadn’t stopped me from hoping to find him in weight room, sitting on the mats as he warmed up. But today was no different than any of the previous days.

  I didn’t mind working out alone; I’d been doing it before James joined the team. Most of the time I preferred it because I could set my own pace and didn’t have to rely on another person to show up on time. The only competition was with myself.

  But after working out with James, I found myself coming around to having a partner so long as we shared the same work ethic. Surprisingly, James did. Although I guess it wasn’t that surprising. An impeccable work ethic should be a basic requirement for someone to reach his level of skill.

  Working with James opened my eyes to the weaknesses in my game. He worked with me even when I struggled, motivating me to push past my comfort levels. Comfort, he told me, led to stagnation, and stagnation was death.

  I thought he was being melodramatic, but after a few weeks with him gone, I’d come around to the idea. I’d plateaue
d, no longer seeing the improvements week after week as I had with him. The longer I stagnated, the worse I felt because I knew I was capable of so much more.

  After turning on the lights, I dropped my bag on the mat and began my routine.

  I couldn’t remember the last time I had such a pitiful workout. My muscles struggled to lift half the usual weight for all of my exercises. After each set I found myself fighting for breath. I’d never reached that level of fatigue so early in the routine.

  But more demoralizing than all of that was my knee. Random bursts of sharp pain plagued the back of my leg for most of the workout. Some of them were strong enough to knock the wind out of me.

  As I sat, slumped against the back wall sipping water, I realized that the workout had been doomed from the start. My mind wasn’t in it. I’d been more focused on James’s absence than on the actual workout.

  I had tried to talk to him about Rylee and the difficulties both me and the rest of the team faced because her, but I couldn’t get through. I left him a message, and in return, I got a short text that said he’d talk about it when he got back, but I wasn’t sure when that would be.

  The only thing I was sure about was that this last exercise would be hell to get through: squats. I’d put them off because I struggled with them. James forced me to do them first, but without him here to yell at me, I pushed them to the end. Big mistake.

  As I started the first rep, my muscles made it clear how much of an idiot I was for saving squats for last. My legs trembled as I struggled to hold up the bar. It wasn’t even that much weight. The movement was slow and stilted, but somehow I managed to lower myself to an acceptable level without pain in my knee.

  “One,” I groaned as I completed the rep.

  It was embarrassing how difficult this was for me, and I was glad James wasn’t here to see. I closed my eyes as I tried to catch my breath. Maybe I should stop; I’d done most of the workout. Rylee’s face flashed in my mind, sneering at me.

  Finally you have a good idea. Just quit now. It’s not like you’re getting any better.

  Every muscle in my body tensed. I opened my eyes looked at my reflection. Strands of hair matted my red cheeks; my neck and chest glistened from sweat. I looked about as good as I felt.