Page 6 of I Got You

“Sorry, quality time with your girlfriend should happen on your own time.”

Mags crosses her arms over her chest, glaring at Cole.

Cole’s eyes grow wide and focus on me. “Girlfriend?”

Coach strides up, joining our little party. “Maggie, my girl.” He throws an arm around her shoulders and hugs her, his voice booming.

Now, I’m seriously confused by what’s happening here, and all the players are standing around doing anything but running drills.

“I’m glad you’re here. Cole and I were just talking about getting a couple of these guys in your class.”

Class? What class?

Maggie nods. “Sure. I might have a few openings. If not, we can set something up through the gym. I can stay for about five more minutes, but then I have to go.”

“Good. Matthews, get’em lined up,” Coach orders, releasing her, ready to get down to business, but I’m left standing in the dark. Maggie moves with him to the fifty-yard line. I follow like a lost puppy trying to get someone to throw me a bone and fill me in on what in the hell is going on here.

“Maggie, this is Coach Carter.” He gestures towards me over his shoulder. “Although, I’m sure you already know that.”

Her head tips up, and there’s that smirk again riding across her mouth like a wave that tells me she knows something, but I have no freaking clue what that something is.

“Sure do. It’s been a real pleasure.”

“You are?” I want to know exactly who she is and why she’s here.

Not responding, she studies the players on the field as they set up to put the ball in motion. “Maggie.”

So freaking helpful. “And what kind of classes do these players need to be in, Maggie?” I try really hard not to sound condescending, but I’m a shit liar.

Her eyes stay straight ahead, focused on the players in motion. “Ballet.”

I’m not sure my ears heard correctly because it sounded like she said ballet, as in tutus and tights.

“Bal-let.” It comes out slowly like I’m some nitwit trying out the word for the first time.

“Yes. I’ve been watching forty-eight and fifteen. Their bodies are all locked up. They can’t twist at the hips or jump to save their life. You’re going to get nothing from them. Their mobility is completely restricted. There’s no way they can catch a rogue ball or dodge defense. And look at twenty-two.” She holds out her hand, waiting for the ball to be snapped. “See right there.” She points, leaning closer to me.

I catch a whiff of something in the air that’s feminine and sweet. I’m tempted to plug my nose holes because smelling this chick seems far too intimate for my distaste for her.

“He’s all muscle, but he’s dead weight. If he gets loosened up, he’ll be so much swifter. Right now, he couldn’t ditch a sloth. Good luck if you need him to run. He’s already in pain, by the looks of it. He’ll be the first one out on the bench, and you’re going to need him.”

She looks at her watch, and I think about what she just said.

“Actually, they should all be in my class, but what would I know, right?” Her chin tips up like she’s expecting an argument.

Damn her and her cocky ass. My brain is still trying to process what she just laid out.

She walks over to Coach and hugs him, likely relaying what she told me about those three players.

“They’ll be in your class this week,” I hear Coach say from twenty feet away. “You come over to dinner soon, darlin’.”

“Will do, CC.” Maggie waves as she steps away, passing by me. “Good luck this season.” She throws it out like a challenge she doesn’t think I can win.

I have no idea what just happened these last fifteen minutes, but I feel like I just got schooled. I still have no clue who this chick is or what she was doing here, but I have a feeling I’m going to find out.

∞∞∞

Sitting in my office after practice, I try to complete my notes about who needs to work on what, and I can’t help but reflect on what Maggie said. I watched the three players she singled out, and I’ll be damned. She’s right. I feel like an asshole, and I’m not even sure I understand why, what went down, or even what that whole thing was about.

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