Page 155 of Let You Love Me

Little does he know, Sophie loves him just as much as I do.

She nods, her curled head bobbing. “This is way better. Mommy can be your girlfriend, so I can be your best friend.”

A toothy grin splits her cherubic face, and if my heart wasn’t completely gone before, it is now.

Chapter 41

TEAGAN

The team is hangingin the locker room with our practice gear on, ready to take the field when our assistant coach, Mulvaney, asks us to stay. Apparently, Coach Turner wants a word with us prior to practice. Tomorrow is probably the biggest game we’ll have in the regular season so we’re all jittery with nerves, and the simple request only heightens the pressure we’re all already feeling.

“What do you think he wants that he can’t say on the field?” Tommy asks beside me, his voice low. “Since when does he hold pre-practice huddles in the locker room?”

I shrug, shaking off the ominous tone of Tommy’s voice. “It’s probably just about tomorrow,” I say, even though I’m not so sure.

Tommy’s right. Any pre-game strategizing, speeches, or peptalks happen once our feet hit the turf.

The door to the locker rooms opens with a bang. The heavy oak wood slams against the wall, reverberating throughout the tightconfines of the locker room. Beside it, Coach Turner peers at us from the entryway, his gaze roaming the men standing before him, and if the pinched set of his mouth and tomato face are any indication, he’s pissed.Really pissed.

Everyone straightens, eyes forward. Every sound inside the room ceases almost instantly, a palpable tension taking its place.

Coach ambles forward until he’s front and center, all eyes on him.

The wrinkle in his brow deepens above hard, assessing eyes.

I suck in a breath and hold it, sensing that whatever he’s about to say will severely fuck up our day. “It’s come to my attention, by a source at Florida State, that someone gifted them a copy of our playbook.”

It’s like being in a vacuum; all the air is sucked from the room.

The silence that follows is deafening.

Whole minutes pass with Coach standing there, staring out at us as if waiting for Judas to show his face.

Eventually, a rumble of voices spreads, a low hum that builds around me. Words and phrases are tossed out.Stolen. Impossible. No fucking way.

When the tone starts to shift and rise, he raises a hand to silence us. “Like you, I didn’t believe it at first so I came to my office early. I’d just had the playbook last night, but when I checked this morning, it was gone.”

“Holy shit,” I mutter under my breath, stunned.

“Fuuuuck,” Tommy echoes.

“They’re lying,” someone shouts. “Ain’t no way.”

“How?” another demands.

“No way, Coach,” Greene says. “They’re fucking rats. They know we can beat them and they’re trying to shake us, turn on each other.”

“I wish that were the case.” The muscle in Coach’s jaw flickers. “But my source is a good friend, an old friend from college,actually. We’ve known each other for more than twenty years. Played football together. Helped each other at the start of our careers. He’s a confidant of mine and he works at the university, so I have every reason to believe what he’s telling me.”

“Who was it?” Chance demands across the room, arms crossed over his chest.

His stony gaze slides to mine where he holds it for a few beats before glancing away again.

“I don’t know,” Coach bites out. “I can only imagine it has to be someone who has access to the facilities.”

“Like a player?” Chance asks.

“Or a staff member, yes,” Coach says.

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