Once Upon A Half-Time: A Sports Romance - Sosie Frost Page 0,67

down and a cheer from one very excited photographer.

It wasn’t enough. The rest of my game had to improve. I had to be faster, read the plays quicker, plant my feet better, block stronger…

I could do this. My career couldn’t end this quickly. Not yet.

We won the game, but my play wasn’t pretty. At least I’d survived.

I showered and changed, avoiding most of the media as it was just the second exhibition game of four. They weren’t circling to scavenge their prey yet. It wasn’t the cameras I had to worry about.

Coach Thompson forced me into his office before I could escape from the locker room. He slammed the door behind us.

I already got beat on the field. I wasn’t looking forward his particular brand of sodomy.

“Well. You got your taste of the league, Reed,” Coach Thompson said. “You feeling good about that performance?”

What was the right answer to that? “Yeah. Sure.”

“Yeah, you looked good getting your ass knocked to the ground. Did we watch the same game?”

“I could show you the play-by-play on my bruises if you want.”

He grabbed my collar, yanking me to meet his face, eye-to-eye. He didn’t have the balls or strength to hurt me, but I couldn’t raise a goddamned hand to defend myself.

“Listen here you little cocksucker.” He sprayed me with saliva. “You have one chance left. You better prove that I didn’t waste my first-round draft choice on your sorry ass. Figure out your positioning on the field. Anticipate the blitz. Get your ass open. You hear me?”

“Yes, Coach.”

“I don’t give a damn about your pretty boy charm. Fuck the photographer all you want. Joke around with the team. But if you don’t improve in the next five-fucking-minutes, you’re gone. You understand?”

“Yeah.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Coach.”

“Get the hell out of my locker room. I better see your smiling face on the field bright and early tomorrow. You get a day off when you earn it, rookie.”

I wasn’t sticking around for any more verbal fucking without some lube. I burst from the chair and returned to my locker, heart-racing. Didn’t know if I wanted to slink home and lick my wounds or tighten my fists and brace for a fight that hadn’t come.

The guys laughed as they packed their shit. I kept quiet. The black and gold uniforms and locker room sickened me more than I sickened myself.

I had to get out of there.

I didn’t make it far. Jack pointed me to the hall.

“Got someone waiting for you,” he said.

I wasn’t in the mood. “I’m leaving.”

“She’ll want a picture.”

Fuck me. Elle.

She usually marauded around the locker room after a win—and the guys made sure they celebrated properly by flashing a dick in any or all of her pictures. But if I couldn’t look myself in the mirror, what was I supposed to say to her?

I exited the locker room, checking the stadium’s tunnel for Elle. A couple staff members and field managers lingered, and the few players chatted on their way to the team bus. Voices echoed off the cement tunnel.

None as loud as his.

Sebastian ran for me, full-fucking-speed, those little devil fists curled up tight.

“I saw you! I saw you! I saw you!”

He jumped up like he expected a hug.

Fuck.

I’d have bent over, but I packed a bag of ice between my suit jacket and dress shirt. Last thing I needed was for my spleen to fall out when I grabbed the kid.

“Hey, little man.” I kept him an arm’s length from my worst aches and pains. “Careful. I’m sore.”

“I watched you! Lachlan…Lachlan listen. We…hey, listen. We were in the seats right over the field. You caught the ball, and…Lachlan, look. Hey watch. The people went crazy!” He leapt around me. “Like this. They just…” He made an explosion sound through pursed lips. “And, and, and, Mom let me have…she let me eat a hot dog and then Elle came to get me. Can I see the locker room? I have to go the bathroom!”

Elle still wore her khakis and polo, but her camera was packed up for the night. She dodged Bast’s flailed fists as he regaled us with a play-by-play of the game. I didn’t remember gaining any superhuman ability to fly across the field with rocket jets, but his version of the events was definitely more exciting.

“Lachlan! Hey! Listen!” He zoomed around me, hyper as fuck, grinning like a maniac.

At least someone enjoyed the game. The bluish slushie stain around his lips probably had something to do with his newfound ability to