Page 115 of Whistle

Coach muttered something I couldn’t make out and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Ryan decided it was a good time to keep talking. “So yeah, I’m gonna need five of you to volunteer to go up on the stage to be auctioned off for a date night.” Coach made a face, but Ryan held up his hand. “A very PG date night. Just a dinner or a movie, something casual. Show whoever bids on you a good time, but not that good of a time.”

Kruger took it upon himself to announce, “What he’s saying is there will be no hanky-panky of the sexual variety.”

Coach smacked him in the back of the head. “Stop talking.”

He held up his hands. “We both know some of these bros need it spelled out for them, Coach. I was just trying to help you out. But count me out ‘cause I’m married.”

The look on Coach’s face was so irate that I actually laughed. The second it burst from my lips, I was startled, the sound so foreign I scarcely recognized it.

Coach’s hazel eyes shot to mine, his stare a beacon for something unnamed inside me. They were greener than gold today, and even though they were shaded by the hat he wore, I still felt the attention down to my bones. All the laughter inside me dried up, and I swear it was like the whole world around me held its breath.

I rolled my lips in but couldn’t force my gaze from his.

“You think this is funny, Lawson?” he asked, voice less abrasive than when he’d been scolding Kruger.

I shrugged one shoulder.

In the shadows of his hat, his stare softened for the span of a heartbeat, but then he turned away. The loss of his stare, albeit brief, was sort of like being unchained from an anchor.

“Highest bidder gets the date, which will be up to you and the winner to schedule at a time that works for both of you. Obviously, you will have to do it around practices and meets.” Ryan went on.

“I’ll do it!” Vargas raised his hand.

Another hand shot up. “Hell yeah!”

A few others went up.

The whistle blasted. “I didn’t agree to this!” Coach said.

“But, Coach, it’s for charity,” Wes said.

Coach sighed. “You said the dean greenlighted this already?”

Ryan nodded. “With one caveat.”

“This entire team is one caveat,” Coach muttered. “What is it?”

You know, this team was pretty entertaining.

“That you, Coach, agree to be auctioned.”

Wait. What?

Raucous cheering boomed to the ceiling as the entire team went wild with the idea.

Coach blew his whistle until his face was flushed, and I stood there in the middle of the pandemonium, feeling slightly sick.

Ryan wanted to auction off Coach for a date. Hate. Double hate. He’s mine.

“Is your brain waterlogged, son?” Coach asked when he finally came up for air. “There is no way in hell?—”

Oh, good, he won’t do it.

“It was Dean Cardinal’s idea.” Ryan cut off his refusal.

Coach jolted, his reaction visceral. “What?”

---