Page 31 of Without Bound
I stare out at the guys as they run drills, but can’t process anything that is happening in front of me. My body is physically here, but my mind has been in its own world for the last couple of weeks. The one night Anais spent in my house has fucked with my mind.
Seeing her in my t-shirt, sitting at my table, eating the breakfast I made for her. It was a vision that I could see playing out forever. Waking up on Saturday mornings, rushing to get all the kids packed up for a day at the little league fields. Cooking up a big breakfast for my family as they all cheer for pancakes with chocolate chips. It’s a scenario that I’ve always dreamed of. A loving wife, a brood of kids, and a happily ever after.
I just never thought that the woman I could envision sitting next to me would be my best friend’s niece.
“Coach,” I hear in the distance and blink to see the guys standing with their hands on their hips and breaths heaving from exertion.
“Oh, yeah. Sorry. Just working out a plan for next week. Why don’t you head into the weight-room for the rest of the time.” I blow my whistle and they run past me and straight to the weight-room.
I slowly follow behind them and practically run face first into a whole group of them who are clogging up the doorway.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“Uh Coach. You might want to see this.”
I push my way through, easily parting them like sand, and hear a squish under my feet. I look down to see an inch of water covering the expensive floor.
“What the fuck?” I curse, and look around to see where the problem may be coming from. “Can one of you go into my office and phone Director Fielding and give him a heads up of what’s going on. He’ll get things moving. The rest of you, grab towels and start soaking this up.”
The boys all move with hurried purpose, just as concerned about their equipment as I am. Wagner rushes off to call the Director, and within minutes he’s at my door, coordinating with maintenance to come and take care of the problem.
“Where are we going to workout, now?” one of them asks.
I blow out a breath and hang my head, trying to figure out where my guys can go without disrupting anyone else’s schedule. I decide I can’t ask any of the other programs because they are either in the thick of their season, or preparing just like we are.
“I’ll talk to the student union. We’ll just plan to workout there on the off times until this is fixed. I’m sure it won’t be long.”
They all nod and communicate that they understand, and I tell them I’ll text them with a time to meet. The guys shuffle out to the showers and go on about their day.
I look at my watch and see the time flip to six fifty-nine. The team has exactly sixteen minutes to make it into this gym before I start blowing up phones.
It only takes another two minutes for the first of them to start trickling in, and then the gym is crawling with baseball players.
“We couldn’t have the gym all to ourselves, but this is the slowest time aside from ten p.m. and y’all need your sleep. So please be mindful of others who may be in there and remember to be courteous.”
They break off into their smaller groups and start their routines. I stand in one corner of the gym to watch over them, and lean against the glass that separates the weight-room from the studios.
A few minutes pass when I see the guys whispering then turning to look just beyond me. They see me watching and divert their eyes around the room like they weren’t caught looking at something they probably shouldn’t be.
After more of the guys follow suit, I decide I need to put a stop to this. I turn around and spot Anais and her friends stretching, their asses up in the air as they bend over.
“Shit,” I mumble under my breath and look back at the group that is now staring at the sight just on the other side once again. “Get back to your workout or I’ll have you in here at five a.m. when it opens.”
Weights clang as they return to what they should be doing, and I walk out and over to the room where temptation waits just feet away.
I step through the doorway and a remix of Janet Jackson’sIfblares from the speakers. Giggles mix with the lyrics and I try clearing my throat to grab their attention. When the first attempt doesn’t work, I decide to just use my coach voice.
“Anais,” I bark, and the girls all gasp and spin around.
“Bish–I mean Coach Michaels. What are you doing here?” she asks.
I scratch my forehead as my eyes find those of the girls who openly stare at me. “Our weight-room flooded from a burst pipe, so my guys are in there.” I motion to the giant window where all the guys stand watching our interaction.
The girls do that giggly thing again and wiggle their fingers at the guys. My players wave back and I make myself known by stepping up to the window. I glare at them and turn my finger in a circle, telling them to turn around and get their asses moving.
“Do you mind if I close these blinds? Clearly my guys won’t be able to focus with you ladies here.”
“Sure,” Anais answers, and sways over to where the cord rests to lower the shade.
