I nod, my clipboard at my side. Adrenaline pumps through my veins and I bounce on my feet, my whistle jostling against my chest.
I’m ready.
Becca snorts and my head whips in her direction. “What’s so funny?”
Her hand covers her mouth, her green eyes sparkling. “Nothin’ funny. You’re just cute. Bouncin’ around like a little boy on Christmas mornin’.”
My lips curl up and I take a step toward her. “Cute, huh?”
Her eyes roll. “Don’t let it fill your ego, big head.”
I tap my clipboard against my leg as I stand there like an idiot, smiling at her. She fidgets under my gaze, looking around the room. “So this is it, huh? Time for me to shine with all this newfound ballin’ knowledge I got.” She taps her head.
“That’s right. Don’t let me down,” I tease.
“Wouldn’t dream of it… sir.” She smiles, walking away.
My cock jumps and my head spins.
For the first time in my life, I want to say fuck basketball. I’d rather steal her away and show her all the ways she makes me feel.
But not everything in life goes the way you want. So, instead of chasing after her, I lock it up tight—just like everything else—and head to greet my players.
16
Becca
I’ve been praying like a whore in church, which ironically is what my hometown thinks of me. All weekend, I’ve been hoping this feeling that tugs me toward Eli would disappear now that I’ve given in, but it hasn’t. And Lord, did I give in. I knew I would the second he stormed through the bathroom door and gripped my throat like he owned me. His filthy words whispering in my ear, and the way his strong hand pressed on my pulse was intoxicating.
I thought sex would be the water to our fire, but turns out it was gasoline. I realized I was in trouble the second I laid in bed, reaching my hand up to my neck, desperate to recreate the feel of being under his palm. Even worse, he wants to be friends, and like a dumbass, I agreed, still dick-drunk and not able to think through the orgasm fog.
My thoughts are only reaffirmed as I stand with the other student managers while Eli talks. The rest of the team is huddled, sitting on the cold wood floor, eyes rapt on the man in front of them. He has this way of grabbing the energy in the room and controlling it without any effort. Almost like it can’t help but want to sink into his skin and stay there for a while. Unfortunately, I can relate.
His hands are on his hips, and his gaze moves over every player while he talks.
I came prepared for the excitement at seeing the team come together and practice. I am not prepared for how my heart swells while Eli stands in front of them, his passion pouring out on the floor.
“Let’s get this out of the way so we never have to bring it up again. I’m Elliot Carson, for those of you who don’t know me.”
“Everyone knows you, Coach,” a player calls out.
Eli rubs a hand on the back of his neck. My skin prickles with jealousy that he’s feeling the touch I crave.
“Maybe so.” He chuckles. “In any case, I played ball in Ohio then was drafted to New York. I was hurt, and unfortunately, it ended my career. I don’t really have much to say about it other than things happen for a reason. If I wasn’t injured, I wouldn’t be here to coach you guys, and I’m damn thankful I have the opportunity to be at your back.”
“It wasn’t your dream to play?” another player asks.
Eli nods. “It was. But…” He blows out a breath, his gaze locking on to mine. “You can’t always have the thing you want most. Sometimes, no matter how bad you want it... it’s just not meant to be.”
I suck in a breath, my heart pinching so tight and my stomach flipping so fast I’m worried I’ll pass out.
His eyes linger before he finally breaks our stare. “Anyway, that’s enough about me. I’d rather focus on you. Some of you have been here. You’ve put your blood, sweat, and tears onto this court every day. You’ve earned your spot on this team, and the respect of your peers. I want you to know I’ll do the same. Respect is earned, and I’ll work every day to prove I’m worthy of it. For the new kids—look to your upperclassmen and get ready. Division One is where the big boys eat. We don’t care if you have a paper due the next day, and we don’t fuck around with excuses. When you’re here, you need to be focused. There’s no downtime. No life of glitz and glamour. It’s just you, the hardwood, and your determination.”
The players nod along. They look eager. Like they’re soaking up his words and wanting to prove to him they can be what he’s asking. He may want to earn their respect, but to me, it looks like he already has it.
“Coach Andrews and I will ask a lot of you, and sometimes you’ll hate us. You’ll want to give in to that voice in your mind, spinning lies to make your failures sound sweet.” He shakes his head. “Don’t do it. I promise if you put your head down and grind every day, push through the pain and the doubts, then we’ll do all we can to help you reach your full potential. Together, we’ll bring home the championship, and it will be my honor to watch you grow into your greatness.”
The players hoot and holler, and Coach Andrews claps him on the back as he takes over.