Page 32 of The Forever Play

Shit, I should be out there. I should be practicing for the upcoming game, not sitting here shrouded in… whatever the fuck is taking over my brain right now!

And I still have my final training session to go before I can get out of this place, but if I don’t stretch and run through those exercises the physical therapists give us, then I’ll be screwed for the game this weekend. And I have to be on form for that.

My heart starts pounding all over again as Coach Jones brings us in for his standard pep talk wrap-up.

“Good job today, guys. I’m liking the intensity. We’re going to need that kind of focus when we play the Rams this weekend. We have a home game advantage. No travel, so we should be better rested.” He sends a few pointed looks around the crew, finishing with Carson, who rolls his eyes and mutters something under his breath. Grady nudges him with a frown, and Carson forces a smile, giving Coach a thumbs-up.

“I’ll go to bed on time like a good boy, Coach.”

A few snickers and murmuring laughs rustle through the team, and Coach speaks over the top of it all.

“I expect that from all of you. Not just because I want to see you play well, but because I want my men to be healthy. Staying up all hours isn’t gonna help your body function to the best of its ability. Now, one final thing before I let you guys go…” He rubs his finger under his nose, and I instantly know that whatever comes next is important and serious. “As some of you may have heard, my daughter is attending Nolan U this year. It’s her first time at college, and although I appreciate helpful, friendly students, I donotappreciate leering young men who wolf whistle when she passes by the stadium or is waiting for me by my car.” His voice takes on a hard, steely edge. “Women are not put on this earth as eye candy or merely for your pleasure. Youwillrespect her, you will use your manners, you will not ogle her, and under no circumstances will you date her.” He eyes the team. “My daughter is off-limits. Am I making myself abundantly clear here?”

Damn. The look on his face right now.

No way in hell would I be going anywhere near his daughter.

I throw a few glances around the team, eyeing up Watson and Franco. Oh, and there’s Wily, although he’s a little scared of Coach, so I’m guessing he won’t go anywhere near his daughter. And then there’s Carson. I throw a side-eye at my housemate. He’s smirking like he’s gonna do what he wants no matter watch Coach says, but then his smile falters and he nods. I whip my head back to Coach and notice him eyeballing all of the biggest problems on the team. They seem to be shrinking under his glare.

Yeah, I think whoever his daughter is will be safe from the Cougars.

Let’s hope she doesn’t mind.

But then it hits me.

Oh fuck, it hits me like a rocket.

If my daughter was attending Nolan U and I was inCoach’s position, I’d probably be giving out the same orders. Because I’d do anything to protect my baby girl.

And holy fuck… I actually have one of those now.

Zoey’s face pops into my brain with crystal clarity, her cute smile and big blue eyes. The sound of her voice as she asked me to “pay,” then told me I was too big for the “sing.”

My heart turns to putty in my chest.

The thought of some fuckwit hurting her makes me want to maim something. I’ve only known her a day, and I already feel an overwhelming protectiveness. Imagine how much stronger that would be if I’d known about her all along.

Shit! Why the fuck didn’t Sienna tell me!

Anger travels through me like a tidal wave again, and I don’t even notice that Coach has dismissed us until the mass of players around me starts to disperse.

“Donohue!” Coach barks.

I snap to attention and glance at him.

“A word?” He beckons me with his finger.

Fuck.

Clearing my throat, I bang my helmet lightly against my leg as I follow Coach off the field and into his office.

He closes the door—never a good sign—and I stand there jittering in front of his desk.

I’m not usually nervous around Coach, but I’m a wreck today, and it’s impossible to hide.

“You feel good about the upcoming game?” Coach closes a few binders, stacking them neatly on the shelf behind him.

“Uh… yeah. I think we’ve got a good chance for a win. There are no guarantees, but we played them last season and won, so…” I shrug.

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