Page 15 of Never Say Never

Tucker

I’m a wreck.

It’s been three days since the dock party, and I can’t get that conversation with Daisy out of my mind.

I replay it over and over again, and I feel the same jealousy raging in me as I did that night. I couldn’t control myself when I stalked over to her and demand we talk. Was it my finest moment? Not even close. But I couldn’t bring myself to give a shit.

When Daisy asked why I wouldn’t just leave her alone, I told her the truth: I was worried about her. I didn’t want her making a mistake she would regret with some loser she barely even knows. But deep down, I know it’s more than that. The truth is, I wish it was me who was holding her hand. I want to be the guywho makes her blush and giggle. Fuck, I want to be the guy who makes her come. I’ve imagined her big, beautiful eyes flutter shut as my mouth sucks one of her perfect tits into my mouth, the shape of her hips under my palm, and the sounds she would make when my cock slowly sunk inside of her. At this point, it’s practically all I think about.

And that fact alone scares the ever-freaking shit out of me. It’s getting harder and harder to ignore the illicit thoughts I keep having about Daisy. Speaking of hard, I’ve woken up the last three mornings with a raging hard-on. I get horny as fuck knowing that she hasneedsand wants to have somefunbefore she leaves on her trip because I keep imagining that I’m the guy who is giving her exactly what she wants.

Whycan’tit be me? I’m not looking for a relationship, and neither is Daisy. She’s leaving in a few months— there would be an expiry date. As long as neither one of us caught feelings, what could go wrong? With any luck, we could share orgasms, scratch an itch, and then she could leave me in her dust when she boards her plane.

But I guess Daisy already has a guy who can do that for her. A heavy dose of jealousy and anger bubbles up inside me when I think about her with him again. The way she was looking up at him, the way his hands kept finding her. Then I think about the way I hurt her that night. I can’t handle seeing Daisy upset but knowing that I was the person who made her feel that way cracked my fucking heart in two. And while she wanted to smack me, allIwas doing was trying not to kiss her.

I shove my hands through my hair and look out my office window to the field below. Pride blooms in my chest at the sight of the green and gold banner above the scoreboard, the Outlaw logo emblazoned on the turf and the 17,000 stadium seats. It’s not large compared to other U.S. college stadiums, but it’s mine. I live for the glare of the stadium lights, the feelingof the manicured pitch under my feet and the loud, raucous energy of the crowd. Before our games even begin, you can hear the chants, feel the beat of the pounding drums from RPU’s marching band. And when the boys hit the field, it’s almost impossible to hear myself think over the roar of the fans.

This team. This school. This feeling is what I live for. There is nothing I love more on this earth.

A knock at the door pulls me from my thoughts and I turn to see our assistant coach, Jesse Workington, standing in the doorway. He’s wearing the coaching staff’s signature black polo with the Outlaw logo on the chest. Jesse and I go way back; we were both Outlaws long before we became coaches for the school.

I wave him in, and he joins me at the window, standing silently for a moment as he takes in the familiar view. His sandy blond hair is dishevelled, and he has a week’s worth of scruff covering his jaw. I recognize the tension in his tall frame, a sure sign that he’s just as wound up over this weekend’s game as I am.

“I came to check in on you, coach,” he says, clapping me lightly on the shoulder.

“You sure I shouldn’t be checking in on you?” I respond with a sly grin.

He smiles but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “The Vikings have been dominating this season. They aren’t going to make this easy.”

He isn’t wrong, but we are the better team. I leave him at the window and sink into the chair behind my desk. “We didn’t play our best against the Panthers last game. There were too many mistakes. Hopefully we are more focused on Friday. We need this win.”

The frustration in the locker room after last week’s game was palpable. Everyone is on edge, knowing the stakes and what it means if we lose the next four games. We’ve spent all week goingover film, hashing out our strategy to win our last home game then the remaining games on the road. We need every fucking victory we can get before we end out the season.

A crease forms between Jesse’s brows as he slumps into the chair across from me, like maybe he isn’t so sure we can pull out the win. “I think we should call an extra practise.”

“There isn’t any time.” I shake my head. “But let’s bring them in after practise on Wednesday to review the playbook.”

“Okay. Fine by me.”

“How are things otherwise, at home?”

“They’re fine. Caitlyn is feeling good, a little nervous but I guess that’s to be expected when you’re going to have a baby in less than six weeks.”

“I still can’t believe you’re gonna be a dad.”

“Some days, I can’t believe it either.”

Jesse married his high school girlfriend. They’ve been together since senior year. He proposed to her on her 21stbirthday, married her a year later. They bought a little house about a half hour drive from Reed Point. “Is she coming to the game?”

“Planning on it, God willing,” he answers, looking up at the ceiling.

“It’s all gonna be fine.”

He nods, pushing up from the chair “I just wanted to check in with you, make sure you’re good. It’s going to be a crazy week.”

“I’m good. Gonna finish up here and head home. You should too.”

Jesse nods and heads for the door, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I scrub a hand through the stubble on my jaw, anxious. The game. The season. Daisy. The spinning cycle of thoughts immediately returns; I feel like I’m going out of my mind.

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