Page 23 of Learn the Play
The woman standing next to Bellamy is smirking as she steps back, allowing me to get closer. I don’t stop until I pull her into a hug. “Missed you, Bell,” I say just low enough for her to hear. Her audible intake of breath tells me all I need to know—she didn’t know I’d be here. Everything we shared that night was genuine. I can only hope now that she knows what I do for a living, she’s still willing to stick around.
Wait. Oh, fuck!
She’s the coach’s daughter. My dream girl hates football.
Fuck me.
“How do you know my tight end?” Coach Warner asks Bellamy.
Sliding my arm around her waist, I answer for her, since she seems to be in shock. “We met a few weeks ago, four to beexact, at a wedding in Los Angeles. I didn’t know she was from Nashville. We talked about everything but last names and where we were from.” I look down at Bellamy, and she must feel my gaze because her eyes collide with mine. “I wasn’t sure I’d ever see you again, but here you are. Fate brought you back to me.”
“Aww,” Corie says, but I don’t pull my eyes from Bellamy.
“Montgomery,” Coach growls.
I hate to, but I tear my gaze from Bellamy to face him. “What’s up, Coach?”
“Take your hands off my daughter.”
“Coach, did you miss the part where I told you she was my dream girl?”
“We should go,” Bellamy says, stepping out of my hold—at least she tries to.
“Oh no, sweetheart. You slipped away once without me getting your number. I’m a man who learns from his mistakes, and I won’t be making that onea second time.”
“You don’t want my number. I—I don’t date football players.” She scrunches up her nose, as if the thought alone disgusts her.
Looks like I’ve got my work cut out for me, but that’s okay. I’m up for the challenge. I know what I felt that night. I know what we shared. And she does, too. That’s why she slipped out before I was awake, and why she’s trying to run now. It was intense and bold, but I’m not afraid of it. All I have to do is prove that to her.
“Bro, Coach has smoke coming out of his ears,” Landry jokes.
“Sorry, Coach, but I need to talk to our girl for a minute.” Not giving anyone a chance to stop me, I guide Bellamy several feet away, thankful that she comes willingly.
“What are you doing?” she asks. She’s not angry, but she doesn’t look thrilled to see me either.
“I didn’t think you’d want to have this conversation in front of your dad.”
“Sperm donor,” she mutters.
“Yeah, I didn’t know Coach had a daughter.” Hurt flashes in her eyes, and I immediately regret my words. “I’m sorry, babe.” I pull her into my arms. At first, she’s tense, but then her body relaxes into mine. “I’m sorry. That was insensitive.” She lets me hold her for a few more seconds before she pulls away. “I can’t believe you’re here.”
“Reid.” She sighs. “It was one night.”
“Bullshit. It was every fucking thing, at least admit that.”
“Fine. It was… something, but you’re a football player. Not just any football player, you play for my dad. The man who left my mom and me for his career. You remember that, right? The man who’s your coach left his family.”
“It was more than something, and yes, there isn’t a moment of that night that I don’t remember.”
“One-night stand.”
“See, that’s what you thought. Sure, that’s what we said, but that night with you changed me. I had plans to wake you up slowly, spend time holding you, and I wanted to tell you that a single night with you would never be enough. I wanted to get your number, your last name, and no matter where in the world you were, we’d make it work, because there’s a spark between us, one unlike anything I’ve ever felt before, and I don’t want to just let that pass us by. I think we owe it to ourselves to see what happens when we let the sparks ignite.”
“I don’t date football players.”
“I’m more than just my job, Bellamy. I’m still the man you spent the evening talking to about everything. I’m still the same man you spent the night with. Football is my job. I can’t change that, and I don’t want to change that. I love the game, but does that mean I don’t deserve to find love?”
“Football took my dad from me, Reid.” Her voice cracks. “I hate the game, and after fifteen years, I’m still struggling toforgive my father and let him into my life. I didn’t even want to be here today. I let my best friend, Amanda, talk me into coming. Why should I care about the sport that took my dad from me? He chose football, Reid. He chose his career, and I can’t do that again. I won’t.” She crosses her arms over her chest, just as her father did when he was glaring at me moments ago, but I keep that similarity to myself. I’m certain that pointing it out wouldn’t help my case of getting more time with her.
