idiot to screw it up.
I hustled to the line, rubbing the sweat from my eyes with the hand that didn’t sting. A camera flashed. Elle grinned at me.
“You’ll get the next one.” She adjusted her lens. “But make it really dramatic. I need an epic photo for the Facebook posts today.”
Easy for her to say. “Your wish is my command.”
“See, boys!” Jack pointed at me with the football. “He’s got this husband thing down now. Nod your head, Charming. Give her whatever she wants.”
“Yeah, Lachlan,” she said. “Whatever I want.”
Elle’s skirt hugged her hips, but the ends flared out, whipping in the breeze to reveal a sinfully smooth leg. How was a man supposed to get any work done when she lingered around the camp wearing a tiny scrap of a baby-doll t-shirt? It hugged her curves, and the bright white material contrasted with the inch of bare belly the shirt didn’t cover.
The guys were right. She was all tits with a camera.
And for that, I’d give her anything she damn well wanted.
If I could catch the fucking ball first.
Elle snapped another picture, and the camera clicked louder than the trill of the whistle.
I sprinted fifteen yards down the field and counted the seconds in my head. The route was a timing pattern, and I had to hook back at the right moment for the ball that would already be in the air and aimed for me.
Three. Two. One.
I turned. Too soon. The pass flew over my head. I leapt to grab it. My fingertips grazed the edge, but I fell to the grass. The ball bounced away.
Son of a bitch. That was two missed passes.
The offensive coordinator blew the whistle sharper this time. Any more of this bullshit and Coach Thompson would leave the sled drills with the offensive line to tear me a new asshole.
“What’s wrong, Charming?”
I didn’t need the attitude from Ray, one of our veteran receivers.
He nudged Elle and winked. “Baby, you gotta let him get some rest before practice. Can’t be sexing a man up all night and expect him to do good work in the morning.”
Elle never needed me to defend her. She gave Ray a bit of attitude. “Don’t hate on my man for going all night just cause you nut in three minutes.”
“It’s not about the time, baby.” Ray thrust his hips. “It’s about the ride. I buck my woman like a rodeo stallion.”
“What? Done in eight seconds?”
The team laughed, but I set up for the next pass. Last thing I needed was my wife sticking up for me. I gritted my teeth.
Jack slapped his hand on the ball. “If you miss this one, Charming, you owe us a steak dinner.”
Jesus. How could these fuckers think of food now? I’d blown three hundred dollars in donuts for them this week, but in this heat, constantly running these goddamned drills, I was lucky to have eaten at all. Nothing tasted better than pride, but mine went rancid too quick.
Elle aimed the camera. “Okay, never mind the epic catch. Just nab one, and I’ll make sure you look good.”
Jesus Christ. Now she was patronizing me? What the hell was going on?
Since when couldn’t I run a goddamned route?
I’d been playing football since I fit into pee-wee shoulder pads. All-fucking-state in high-school. Offered a free ride to any college I wanted. I had a Heisman Trophy proudly displayed in my mother’s house.
So why the fuck did my hands turn to bricks? My legs didn’t communicate with my head, my brain fogged on the damn play, and the pressure beat on me harder than the burning sun.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.
I was Lachlan Charming Reed, first-round draft choice. Not some charity case running bullshit drills and failing in front of the entire team.
The whistle blew. I burst into the route. Fifteen yards down. Count from the snap. Hook back.
The ball bounced away before I even turned.
I checked the yardage. Damn it.
I ran eighteen yards. Two extra steps.
My timing was off, and I fucked it up.
“That’s some magic fucking pussy, Elle…” Ray shook his head. “You’ve ruined him.”
She sighed. “Don’t get superstitious now. Remember two years ago? When no one wanted to change their practice socks cause we were on a streak?” She gagged. “We needed real voodoo to clear the smell out of the locker room.”
Ray snickered. “You’re right. Let’s run it again. Throw you down the field. He might be able to hit that.”
“Darn.” Elle snapped her fingers. “And here I didn’t