Page 74 of I Blame the Club

She lets out another laugh and my heart feels ten times lighter. Sliding off the single bed, I press one last kiss against her forehead.

“You know you can talk to me about anything, right? Good or bad, I’m always here for you.”

She smiles, “I know. I love you, Nico.”

“Back at cha, mi amor.”

Chapter 21

Mo

He’s doing it on purpose.

My eyes narrow as Nico bends over to touch his toes, his ass waving in the air like a fucking red flag. Until this practice, he was always the first one dissembling the nets, choosing to use cool down as clean up duty instead of actual recovery. Given Nico does whatever the hell he wants, I’ve never paid his post-practice routine much attention.

But now he’s making it impossible not to pay attention.

I scowl as he steps back into a lunge, the bright red material of his shorts molding against his firm ass. The rest of the team is sitting on the ground, talking and stretching while Nico transitions into another pose that makes his shorts ride up another inch.

For fuck’s sake.

Gritting my teeth, I tear my eyes away and watch Wes interact with the forward rookie. Out of all the first-years, Millard hasimproved the most. His skills are still far from impressive, but the effort he has shown on the field has been significant.

Someone claps their hands and I turn to see Nico finally standing upright.

“Great job today, team! Our next tournament is coming up quick and if we all want another tequila celebration, we better make it count.”

A couple of the players cheer, the rest of them mustering up tired smiles. The first practice after a tournament is always the toughest, especially after away games.

Hunter pumps a fist in the air, “Go Tigers!”

“Go Tigers!” Everyone shouts back the chant before splitting off and heading for the showers. Nico lingers behind, his usual swagger back in place when he throws me a smug grin.

“Let me guess. It’s unprofessional to talk about the consumption of alcohol with my players.”

I close the distance between us with five long strides.

“Are you hunting for criticism?”

His eyes flick between mine, “Considering that seems to be your only form of feedback, yeah I guess I am.”

I frown, “I provide constructive feedback. Whether that’s positive or negative depends on the player.”

“Babe, it’s been over a month and I don’t think you’ve told a single player well done.”

“Not true.”

“Name one.”

I open my mouth then close it. Frustration burns through me, the familiar weight of disappointment sinking down on my shoulders.

Nico tilts his head, “Thought so.”

Fuck.

“Millard has done well. His passing needs some serious work but the improvement is there.” I bite out the words, cursing myself for giving in.

“Did you tell him that?”

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