Team Hate

by Hart, Rebel

  Copyright © 2020 by Rebel Hart

  Cover by Robin Harper of Wicked By Design

  www.RebelHart.net

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  1. Jane

  2. John

  3. Jane

  4. John

  5. John

  6. Jane

  7. John

  8. Jane

  9. Jane

  10. John

  11. John

  12. Jane

  13. John

  14. Jane

  15. John

  16. John

  17. Jane

  18. John

  19. John

  20. John

  21. Jane

  22. Jane

  23. Jane

  24. John

  25. John

  26. John

  27. Jane

  28. Jane

  About the Author

  Also by Rebel Hart

  Team Hate

  Rebel Hart

  1

  Jane

  It was going to take some getting used to being happy to see the sunrise as opposed to frustrated. Nearly eight years of dreading it every time it streaked through my window to tell me a new day had begun, now it’s light was welcoming; today was going to be a good day. After putting in four years of experience with a college football team, and an additional four years of grunt work and education, I was finally starting as an assistant coach at a national team. My skin prickled like the carbonation in a soda. I couldn’t wait to leave my mark on the football industry.

  I sprang out of bed and twirled over to my closet where my ‘first-day’ outfit was already ironed and waiting. I gave it another glance over for approval. A business suit with a gray blouse underneath, and a pair of black flats. I wasn’t much of a ‘girly girl’ per se, but I didn’t want to storm in dressed like a man. I was going to be the first woman ever working for the North Carolina Knights, and only one of ten working in the entire NFL, and I wanted them to know it. My normally arduous morning routine suddenly seemed much more exciting. My shower was steamier, my breakfast was more filling; it just goes to show that feeling excited about one’s career can drastically change their outlook on life.

  I heard the front door to my condo squeak aside and smiled. “In the kitchen.”

  “Good god, you’ve got the ears of a bat.” Footsteps preceded my brother, Jim, rounding the corner into my kitchen. He grinned when he saw me sitting at the table in my fresh-pressed suit. We didn’t live together, but he had a key to my place just in case of emergency, by which he sometimes meant my bathroom was closer than his. “Wow, you look awesome.”

  “Yeah?” I stuck out my foot to reveal that I’d opted not to wear pumps. “Do you think it’s okay? I didn’t want to be too girly, but I also didn’t want to be too tomboyish.”

  Jim was a tall guy, and made my small kitchen look dwarfish. His caramel skin and short brown hair were comforting to see on a day like today. He reminded me of our dad. He settled into the chair across from me at the kitchen table. He reached for a piece of the bacon on my plate and I swatted his hand away.

  “Uh, I will murder you.” I pointed over my shoulder towards the stove. “I made extra for you.”

  Jim scoffed. “You couldn’t have told me that while I was still standing?” He traipsed over to the stove and returned with his bacon, crunching into it immediately. “And watch who you’re swatting. I’m not your brother anymore, I’m your boss.”

  I tilted my head. “Oh, I thought it was both, excuse me.” I reached across and pulled the plate of bacon from him. “Sorry, these are for my brother.”

  He pulled the plate back. “I’ll murder you.”

  Jim was the head coach of the Knights and that had nothing to do with me getting the job—I made sure of that. I went through a rigorous interview process that included meeting everyone from the board of directors to the owner, and even select members of the fanbase. I had to display my level of expertise in several areas from knowledge of the sport to handling the press and media, and my brother was not allowed to be involved in the interview in any way.

  He stared at me with concern deep in his chocolate brown eyes as he munched on his bacon. I tried to ignore it, but I could be short-tempered and it irritated me. “What?”

  He shrugged. “I’m worried.”

  “About what? I’ve been training for this. I have a degree in this. I got this.”

  “It’s not you, I’m worried about.” He finished his bacon and then stacked his plate under mine. “It’s them. The team.”

  “You don’t think I can handle a bunch of guys? No offense, but your species isn’t the most sophisticated around. All my friends are guys, and I grew up with you and dad didn’t I? Like I said. I got this.” I took our plates into the kitchen and set them in the sink. I gave my outfit a careful glance over and then looked back at Jim. “Okay. I’m ready. Let’s go.”

  Jim didn’t move. “If I sit here long enough, will you become a little girl again?”

  My heart swelled. There was about six years between Jim and I. We’d always been close, but ever since our dad died we’d been nearly inseparable. He took his duties as ‘big brother’ very seriously and I had several exes with permanent physical and emotional bruises to prove it.

  “I’m not interested in becoming a little girl again.” I walked up to him and put a hand on his shoulder. “I’ve worked really hard for this. I’m not letting anyone ruin this for me. I got this. I promise.”

  He let out a sigh. I could see it in his face that he believed me, but the furrow to his brow was still enough of an indicator that he was nervous. There was nothing else I could do to make him feel any better. I mentally tacked him onto the list of people I had to prove myself to and walked around him headed for the door. I let my curly, light brown hair hang around my face and did a quick ‘expression check.’ I looked into the mirror hanging above my entrance hall table and started to make different expressions. Should I go for a tough girl look, corners of my mouth downturned and my eyes pierced and meaning business? Should I go sweet with a constant flutter to my eyelashes and my lips in a small, yet ever-present grin?

  “What the hell are you doing?” Jim’s face appeared next to mine in the mirror. His confused expression turned into a warm one instantly. “You look just like dad.” He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me into a hug. “He’d be super proud of you, you know?”

  My nose started to burn and the corners of my eyes dampened. Even after almost ten years, thinking of my dad still made me emotional. I thought of him dragging me out to the backyard on brisk November evenings to ‘toss the ol’ pigskin around’ with him and Jim. Despite the fact that I was a girl and most people tried to force dolls and princesses on their little girls, my dad had a progressive way of thinking. He said that I should do whatever I loved and that he knew the second I first watched him toss a football that I shared his passion for the sport. He never took it easy on me, letting me eat dirt and fall hard just like the high schoolers on his team, but whenever I went down, he was right there to pick me back up again, kiss my wounds and say ‘Try again kid, football’s in your blood.’ He was right and I never stopped dreaming of doing it for a living for a second.

  “Sorry,” Jim interrupted my memories. “I know it’s a sore spot for you. I don’t want to make this day any harder.”

  “‘Harder?’” I stepped back from Jim. “What’s hard about this day? I get to wake up and go do what I love for a living? After all this hard
work, I’m finally an assistant football coach for a pro team. There’s nothing hard about this day.”

  Jim rolled his eyes and shook his head. “You’re so stubborn.”

  I stuck my tongue out at him and he flicked it with lightning speed. “Ow.”

  “I hope this day is everything you dreamed it would be, but you know that if it isn’t, I’m here for you, right?”

  I shook my head. “No! I mean yes, but no! No special treatment. I’m not ‘The coach’s baby sister,’ I’m the assistant coach.”

  “Wait. I thought it was both.” I rolled my eyes at him and he laughed. He reached out and grabbed the front door and opened it. “After you, coach.”

  I beamed beneath the title. That’s right, I am the coach. I marched through the door and made my way to Jim’s car. I had a car of my own, but I agreed to carpool with him for the first day. The drive was quick and quiet as I buzzed with excitement and I jumped out of the car like a cartoon character when we pulled up to the North Carolina Knights Practice Field and Training Facility; my new job.

  I began to beeline for the door, but Jim rushed over and stood in my path. I stomped my feet in a mini fit. “What are you doing, move?”

  Jim held up a finger on his hand. “A fair warning.”

  I crossed my arms. “We just had a whole car ride, you couldn’t do this in there?”

  “I couldn’t because I need it to be as fresh on your brain as possible.” Jim’s look was the most serious I’d ever seen. It sent a chill down my spine. “These aren’t just your run-of-the-mill men. They’re superstars who are used to getting whatever they want. Women in front of them are like giant slabs of meat. You’re not gonna be any different.”

  “I trained frat guys. I’ve got the drill.”

  “No! This is different. That was just their first form. Trust me, football players do not age well. These guys are brutes of a totally different color. If you give them even an inch, they’ll take far more than a mile. Promise me you’ll keep your head on a swivel.”

  “Jim, I know how to—”

  Jim slapped his hands on my shoulders. “We’re far beyond your typical ‘one of the guys’ attitude, Jane. Promise me.”

  “Okay.” I gave him a hug hoping to quell his concerns. “I promise. I’ll take care of myself.”

  Jim let out a little exhale and started walking towards the facility and I followed. “I’m sorry, I just… I’m your big brother, I’m supposed to worry.”

  “I know.”

  “Oh, by the way, there’s one guy, in particular, you most need to keep your eye on.”

  Before Jim could say another word, the front doors to the training facility opened up and a man came jaunting out. The tall angled panels and shimmering glass windows of the facility bowed to his presence as he stormed towards us. He was tall and stacked, with muscular arms that bulged even through the long-sleeved black t-shirt he wore, and a sharp jaw that looked like it could split diamonds in half. His emerald eyes were narrowed with frustration and he walked as if the earth itself deserved to have his feet upon it. I recognized him as the Knight’s starting quarterback, John Sceptre and I didn’t like his attitude one bit.

  “You’re late.” He kept his eyes on Jim as if I wasn’t standing right there next to him. “We’re playoff-bound and you can’t even get here on time.”

  Jim puffed his chest out a bit, despite only standing at 5’ 10” and being shorter than John. “Watch who you’re talking to. I’m the coach, not you.” He held out an arm towards me. “I was collecting our new assistant coach.”

  John did drop his eyes to me then. He scanned me up and down, but not in the way I was used to. He wasn’t ogling me or taking a look at my ass and breasts, he was diminishing my existence with every additional second his eyes were on me; he was proving to himself that he was right to disregard me completely.

  He scoffed. “You’ll be gone within the month.” He looked back at Jim as if he hadn’t just insulted me to my face. “If you’re done, we’d like to get started on actual football.”

  He didn’t wait for a response. He turned and started off back towards the facility. Jim crossed his arms. “That was the ‘one guy in particular.’”

  “Yeah.” My ‘first-day’ jitters dissipated into murderous rage. “I gathered that.”

  2

  John

  I twisted my head from one side to the other trying to get the cricks and irritation out. For the crackpot operation these folks were running, the fact that we were actually looking at a chance to go to the super bowl was astounding. I’d attribute most of that to myself, but I couldn’t deny that when Jim’s eyes were on the prize, he was a damn good coach. He had an intimate understanding of the game and knew how to run plays that would confound and destroy any opponent.

  When his eyes were on the prize.

  These days, Jim’s attention was split between our rotating turnover of coaches and the grueling interview process for his new right-hand man; or should I say ‘woman.’ They hire his little sister and expect us to just accept it? All of this political correctness, trying to ‘diversify’ the workplace bullshit and now we’re expected to take football advice from a chick? Did I look dumb?

  I stormed into the locker rooms and one of the starting wide-receivers and my best friend, Jack Wier, walked up to me. “Did you find him?”

  “Yeah. He’s out there with the new ‘Assistant Coach.’”

  Roland, the starting left tackle, stopped mid-change into his gym clothes and looked over at me. “Oh! What’s he like?”

  I snorted and didn’t respond. Damned if I was gonna give these guys any advance notice. They had to see it for themselves just like I did. I moved over to my locker and started to change into my gym clothes and took a few deep breaths to calm my frustration. Here I was hoping for us to hunker down and get our work done so we could possibly get some new hardware, but now we had to play politics and with the coach’s younger sister no less? Maybe I should just go home and play one of my football video games. I was far more likely to get some real direction from an animated coach than my real one at the moment.

  “Yo!” Jim’s voice boomed through the locker room. “I want everyone on the field in five minutes. I have someone I want you to meet.”

  Everyone started getting really excited, little did they know there was nothing to be excited about. Those who were already in their training gear walked out immediately, and those that weren’t got to a good stopping point and made their way out as well. I was the last to leave. All I could think about were all the better things that I could be doing with my time.

  I pulled my phone out of my pocket and navigated to my messages with my monthly flavor, Anessa.

  Hey, beautiful. Dinner tonight?

  You know it, Papi.

  Cool. Pick you up at 7.

  I needed someone to help me vent out my frustrations. It was clear I wasn’t going to get a complete workout and training regimen again, why wouldn’t I take a beautiful woman out on the town and end the night with her on top of me? I deserved that at least. Begrudgingly, I walked out to the field. I could see that the guys were all already murmuring amongst each other. I snickered as I slipped and slid my way to the front of the pack. Jim’s sister was standing next to him with a bright, beaming smile on her face, though to her credit, when she saw me poke through the crowd, it diminished. Good. If she already didn’t like me, I didn’t need to pretend I gave a shit about her.

  “Guys, settle down,” Jim started and then looked around. “Where’s Dax?”

  “Really?” Jack checked his Fitbit on his left wrist. “It’s not even noon. Dax isn’t here.”

  Jim rolled his eyes. We all knew Jack was right. Dax was the starting running back and a slacker at that. “Whatever, he’ll catch up when he gets here.”

  “That’s giving him a lot of credit,” another player, Caleb, said and everyone started to laugh.

  “Alright, alright, let’s just move on.” He clapped his hands
to shift the mood. “I know that things have been really crazy around here. We’ve been struggling to keep coaches; can’t imagine why.” The ending sentiment was uttered with thick sarcasm. “But we’re super bowl bound, so it was really important to us to find an Assistant Coach that can help alleviate some of my stress, help you guys get ready for these upcoming games, and most importantly, stick around. So, I am very proud to introduce to you our new Assistant Coach, Jane Panesse.”

  Jane took a step forward and put her hands on her hips. “It’s really nice to meet all of you. I’m looking forward to working with you. I have a lot of experience with football, I’ve been playing and coaching since high school. I worked with the team at UNCC and have a bachelor’s and master's degree. I think you all are one of the best teams in the NFL. Lean on me and I’ll make sure we’re victorious.”

  An awkward silence blanketed the field. It was apparent Jane was expecting some sort of applause or response, but nobody quite knew what to do. I didn’t consider myself a sexist, but there were some places women just didn’t belong. Men were the best to coach other men; they expected us to be excited about this clusterfuck that just walked in? Who were they kidding?

  Jane cleared her throat and stepped back to Jim’s side. He looked at us, we looked at her, she looked at him; all of us waiting for someone to break the screaming silence. I looked Jane over as she stood there. She had her chest pushed forward in false confidence and she wore a feminine suit that I assume she thought made her look more professional and disguised her impressive-sized rack and curve to her hips. Swing and a miss. She couldn’t be more obvious if she tried.