Page 92 of Unforgettable
Ryker
The locker room was somber as the guys changed out of their football uniforms. We’d lost the game, or I’d lost the game. My head hadn’t been screwed on since I’d left Haven’s dorm room three days ago.
Erik ambled up, wiping the sweat off his chest with a towel. “Don’t beat yourself up. All of us played like crap.”
The low chatter came to an abrupt halt.
Erik waved a hand around. “We did. Admit it. Defense sucked. I played like shit. I didn’t protect you like I should have.”
Guys nodded, and others verbally agreed with Erik. It was great to hear that I had their support, but I still felt like a loser.
I’d been sacked twice in the game. It wasn’t Erik’s fault or any of the guys. It was mine. I hadn’t released the ball quickly enough. My reflexes seemed to have frozen, my mind was on a hiatus from football, and my arm wasn’t working. Even when I had thrown a pass, I hadn’t fired it into Lucas’s hands, or anyone’s for that matter.
I grabbed the ends of my shirt and pulled it over my head. “Listen up. You guys have had my back, and you’ve been busting your ass every game. I’m the one who hasn’t shown up to play, and I’m sorry about that.”
“Man,” Vin yelled from the other side of the locker room. “You’re entitled to a bad day, or a couple.”
Ajax, who was stripping down next to Vin, shouted, “Give yourself a break, Ryker. You’ve had it rough this year.”
Everyone chimed in with the same sentiment.
Lucas strutted up, his sweat-soaked hair matted to his head. “It’s time to blow off some steam. You’ve been wound tight for the last couple of days.”
I nodded in agreement. I could use a bottle of scotch and a good fuck. But I didn’t want to be with any woman other than Haven, and that wasn’t going to happen as long as her old man was in the picture.
“Party at our house,” Lucas announced.
Shouts of “hell yeah” and “I’m there” erupted from the guys.
I was getting ready to jump in the shower when Coach Chapman blew in like a fucking tornado. “Ryker, in my office in ten,” his voice thundered.
The guys around me recoiled.
Lucas slammed his eyes shut briefly.
We knew what Coach wanted—to chew my ass until I had no meat left on my bones.
No one said a word as Coach left a huge wake of tension behind as he flew out of the room.
I didn’t waste any time showering and dressing. One thing everyone knew about Coach Chapman was that he should never be kept waiting. I’d already had him swearing like a sailor on the field. I imagined he would be doing the same when he had me alone in his office.
“Good luck,” Vin said at my back as I walked out.
“We’ll bring flowers to your funeral,” Erik teased.
Nine minutes later, I was closing the door behind me in Coach Chapman’s office.
He sat behind his desk amid the stacks of folders piled high around him. I could barely see his computer monitor, which he was fixated on.
I stood with my hands cupped in front of me. “I’m sorry.” I had no other words. Coach didn’t want to hear my excuses on why I’d played like crap.
He groaned as he leaned back in his chair, swiping fat fingers over his bald head. “For what? Losing the game? You didn’t lose it—the team did. All of you sucked.”
“Why am I here, then?” My grades were good thanks to the help I’d gotten from my tutor. I hadn’t missed practice. I’d been working out. I’d even finished my campus community service like a good boy.
He gnawed on the inside of his cheek. “What’s going on in your head?”
I flinched. Our relationship had always been professional. I could count on one hand how many times Coach had asked me where my mind was. Of course, one time had been after the recent deaths of my family. But the only other time had been when I’d first joined the team. He’d been worried about my nerves and wanted to know where my head was at.
