Page 9 of Maverick
On my last attempt, I stumbled. The ground seemed to rotate beneath me, and I needed a minute to gather my bearings. Turning my back to Reese, I clutched my churning stomach and graciously accepted the water someone handed me. Maybe I should have turned around and gone home, but it was too late now.
I couldsenseReese’s presence and as he grew closer, I tossed the drink aside and spun to face him. “Don’t,” I spat, a bit more venom in my voice than I intended, but I had no extra space for his shit. Iwastired, I felt sick, and the ruthless Alabama sun had been beating down on me forhours.
“Wow… Where was this temper years ago?” he chided. I didn’t like the tone in his voice, but he kept yapping before I could make any attempt at shutting him up. “If you’d had this bite back then, maybe you’d have beaten me in the draft.” He choked out a disbelieving laugh. “How’d you even get here?”
We were chest to chest now. My tongue felt like mush in my mouth. I couldn’t speak, even if I wanted to.
“With skills like that, you’ll only make us look bad.”
Hands on his chest, I shoved with everything I had. We hit the ground, Reese going down hard on his shoulder—but not too hard to shove me back. I heard distant shouting, but I was seeing red. Someone grabbed at my shoulder and hauled me away, but not before Reese kicked me right in the stomach.
Shoving the person off, I turned and vomited onto the grass. A moment later, the hand returned, this time soothingly squeezing my shoulder. “Go cool off, now!”
Quinton.
He leaned in close to me. “Go hit the showers. We’ll talk later.”
I didn’t even have it in me to argue anymore. I trudged back to the locker room, desperate for that shower. Training days always sucked, but now I tasted vomit in the back of my throat. I took my time, standing under the cool spray until my body temp came down and my stomach settled enough for the drive home.
Thankfully, bad hangovers in college taught me to keep a toothbrush in my bag. I stood at the sink brushing, the rest of the team bursting into the clubhouse. Most rushed straight for the showers, a couple to the bathrooms behind me but thankfully none of them questioned me. I didn’t come face-to-face with Reese again either.
In recent years, it had become common practice to be “out” in the world of pro sports—especially after Stetson’s very public display last year. Every league had rules against bullying and discrimination. Most fans didn’t care as long as it didn’t get in the way of the game, but what happened during practice? That was sure to disrupt a play. I knew I had to talk about it, but the only thing I was in the mood for right then was a bed.
As I returned to the dressing room, Quinton eyed me like he wanted to say something. I quickly averted my gaze, turning my back to him to get changed. Carefully, I slipped my underwear on beneath the towel. Murmuring kicked up around me. I heard my name in the mix, and Reese’s, who was conveniently missing from the entire equation.
I did what I did best: I ignored it all. Well, I tried to. I wasn’t used to hearing my name everywhere I turned. Reese Taylor, yes, but I’d always been an outcast, had always been looked over for one reason or another, and I wasn’t going to start being the center of attention now.
The thought sent a shiver down my spine… or maybe that was the fever.Is it getting hot in here? God, I needed to get home.
Thankfully, Quinton came to my rescue. “Alright guys, cut it out. Clearly, they don’t want to talk about it.”
Goosebumps trailed over my skin. The authority in Quinton’s voice did things to me that had me dressing in a hurry—things that were only made worse when he sidled up nice and close to my back. A thick arm stretched out in front of me, snatching my can of deodorant. My brows furrowed but my heart stopped altogether when he muttered under his breath, “We all have our secrets. Don’t we, princess?”
5
QUINTON
Teddy—Maverick—stiffened.Red washed over his cheeks, the flush continuing down his chest and disappearing behind his shirt. I thought I recognized him the moment he walked onto the field but when he turned his back, the compass tattoo between his shoulder blades confirmed my suspicions. He swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing.
“Give me fifteen,” I said. “Then meet me back here.”
He nodded, so quickly that I’d have missed it if I blinked, but it was an agreement. I’d only snatched his deodorant as an excuse to get close to him so with a mental note to put it back, I rushed through a shower. I was hoping to check in with Reese before he left, but he was gone by the time I got dressed. Most of the players were—except for Maverick. He sat on the padded bench, gaze fixed on the floor. He didn’t even glance at me when I walked into the room. At 6’ 4” and 230 pounds, I’d never seen someone look so small. He was…scared,and I couldn’t have that. “Maverick.”
He flinched, head snapping up. His eyes flitted to the door, and he shuffled in his seat.
“Come with me,” I said, grabbing my keys.
As I led him out of the locker room, timid footsteps echoedbehind me. Not all team captains got access to the offices but since we were down a coach, I got lucky. Maverick followed me to the last door on the left, and I let him in ahead of me. The shadow of him entering the dark room had my heart thundering with the reminder of who he was, but now wasn’t the time. I flipped on the light, then shut and locked the door. I took a seat behind the desk, but he hovered in the entryway. “Do you want to sit down?”
He shook his head, fidgeting with his fingers. “I’m okay.”
“You think I’m going to scold you.”
“Aren’t you?”
“No, sweetheart.”
Thathad him lifting his gaze from the floor.
