Page 29 of Matched By My Rival
“Oh, he was.” Martinez laughed. “So pissed. Because you’re not focused. Because he knows next season could be the best this school has seen in a long time, but only if you guys work for it.”
My gut clenched as my teammates all promised to buckle down. Martinez’s words motivated them. Hell, even the possibility I could be drafted—as unlikely as that was to pass—drove them to push themselves.
They returned to their workouts with a new determination, a group of athletes giving it everything to excel.
So, why couldn’t I muster up any enthusiasm?
Instead, dread tightened my chest and weighed on me as heavily as the plates on my barbell. All my happy sex endorphins leaked out of me like a deflated balloon.
When we’d finished the workout, Martinez pulled me aside while the rest of the guys headed for the locker room.
“Want to talk about it?” His eyes were sharp, knowing.
I shrugged. “What’s there to talk about?”
“Most guys would be jumping for joy to hear they might have a real shot at the pros. But not you.”
I smiled, though my heart wasn’t in it. I wasn’t about to confess to one of the coaching staff that I felt apathetic about the most important sport in their lives.
“That would be amazing. I guess it’s just hard for me to believe.”
Martinez studied me for another long minute. “Uh-huh. Well, believe it, kid. You’ve got what it takes, but only if you work for it.”
I nodded. “The way Prentiss did. You think he’d be the one with draft prospects if not for what happened?”
Martinez sighed. “So that’s what’s going on. Survivor guilt, huh?” He smiled grimly. “Prentiss got a shit deal, but he made his bed, Reed. You’re not responsible for his actions.”
I felt responsible, considering I’d shown up to that party with his ex-girlfriend.
“But to answer your question, no,” he said. “I don’t think Prentiss would get any looks.”
“Why not? You said yourself he put in the work.”
Martinez shrugged. “Too injury-prone,” he said. “Not quite the same field presence. It’s hard to explain, Reed. But even if Prentiss hadn’t left the team, you would have surpassed him.”
I shook my head. “I don’t believe that.”
“Well, regardless, Coach Jackson has put his faith inyou.Maybe it’s time you do the same.”
I felt sick. The guys were so fucking excited by the idea of a great season ahead. The coaching staff had put their faith in me. And all I could think about was escaping the pressure and expectation.
But how could I leave my teammates, my friends who’d always had my back? That seemed like the worst kind of betrayal.
* * *
SIMON
My sister called me while I was at the bar to pick up my paycheck before heading to House Pledge on Saturday. I’d had a great week of texting with HotPan22, including a lot more sexual innuendo. We’d sexted again too, but he was letting me lead, and I was still a little tentative.
I’d never been timid about sex, but putting what I wanted into words was more difficult than I would have expected. I was the type of guy to take action, not waste my breath on dirty talk. But HotPan? He was a master, winding me up so good that I came as hard as if he were right there in the room with me.
I tugged my phone from my pocket, answering Chelsea’s call while I glared down at my meager earnings. Even with that extra shift, I’d cleared less than three hundred dollars in two weeks. I really needed to improve my flirting game and bring in more tips.
I didn’t have to worry about housing expenses, thanks to the frat. I mainly had to pay for incidentals like food and toiletries. My mom had insisted on keeping me and Chelsea on her phone plan, even if she couldn’t do much more. That meant I could send a little more than half of my paycheck to my grandparents to sock away for Chelsea.
That was barely a drop in the bucket when it came to repaying the money they’d loaned me to make it through my final semester at Hayworth.
“Hey, Chels. What’s up?”
