Page 22 of Topping the Jock
I didn’t know why, but I took the long way around and soon found myself walking down the athletic hallway. Trophies from past seasons filled glass cases, along with team photos and memorabilia, like a football signed by all of the previous years’ seniors before they graduated and a baseball that had been the first home run of the season.
“What brings you to my domain?”
I’d been reading a plaque from last year’s award banquet and snapped my head to the left, seeing Monty a short ways down the hall, his arms crossed and a smirk on his gorgeous face.
“Your domain? What makes you so special?”
“See that one?” he asked, stepping closer and pointing at the largest trophy in the case. Heat came off his body as he stood only inches from me, and mine warmed in response. He lightly tapped the glass. “We won that trophy during my senior year. I doubt you paid attention to our team because we were a bunch of assholes,butwe killed it that season. Our team was on point, going all the way to the playoffs. I set a record for the most touchdowns that year.”
Pride filled his voice as he talked about it, and when I looked over at him, his eyes were bright and excited… if not a little sad.
“You really miss it, don’t you?” I asked.
“All the time,” he answered, staring at the trophy. I followed his gaze and saw a framed photo of his team right beside it. They wore blue jerseys and smiled as the coach held up the trophy now proudly displayed in front of us. “Strange how I barely talk to any of them these days. Just Zane. And now Tyler, I guess.”
Zane.My gut twisted at the name. He’d been Monty’s right-hand man and an even bigger pain in the ass than Monty himself. Zane had orchestrated the dumpster tosses and other annoying things to make me hate him.
“But anyway,” Monty said, shaking his head and slapping on a smile. “You didn’t answer me. What brings you here? Your class is on the other side of the building.”
“Your class is right beside mine, so why areyouhere?” Best to dodge his question by asking one of my own.
“Football coach, remember?” he pointed out. “Some mornings I hang out in the weight room in case the guys want to get an early workout in. So.” He cocked his head toward me, his brown eyes pinned to my face. “Why are you here, Quinn? It was to see me, wasn’t it?”
“Not in the way you’re insinuating,” I responded. “I just wanted to make sure the storm didn’t blow you away. I don’t know how I’d feel if my greatest enemy were to up and disappear.”
“Greatest enemy?” he asked with a snort, crinkling his nose.
Why was that so cute? I wanted to slap him. He had no right to be so adorable.
“You’re the Lex Luthor to my Superman,” I said, before taking a sip of coffee.
“Hey, why do you get to be Superman?” he asked, sounding like a little kid who’d just been told they couldn’t have a candy bar.
“Because you’re the villain.” I took another sip.
“Damn. Burn.” Monty put a hand over his heart, which of course drew my attention to his wide chest. Not even the hoodie he wore could cover up how in shape he was. It was enough to make my mouth water.
In theory, anyway. It wasn’t like I was checking him out or anything.
“Why are you staring?” Monty asked, and if I wasn’t mistaken, he seemed to move closer. Or maybe I was moving closer to him.
“I’m not staring,” I lied, swallowing hard as my eyes fell to his lips. Had they always looked so soft? Inviting?
“Liar.” Monty flashed his pearly whites and moved so close I felt his breath on my lips. Fuck. It got me hard.
“Hey, Coach!” Dean said, coming through the doors behind us with a duffel bag slung over one shoulder. He then looked at me, expression curious. Probably wondering why the hell I was there, standing so close to Monty. Yeah, well, he wasn’t the only one wondering that. “Oh. Hey, Mr. Beck.”
“Good morning,” I greeted him with a smile before putting some distance between me and Monty. What the hell had I been about to do? Kiss him? Slam him against the wall?
Let him take me to the locker room?I bit back a groan at the image of him doing exactly that.
“Just need to drop my stuff off in the locker room,” Dean said to us before walking down the hall and turning into the weight room.
“He’s a good kid,” Monty said, staring after him.
“He is,” I agreed. “A wonderful student too.”
Dean was in my AP History course and was taking two distance-learning courses that he’d receive college credit for. He was also the student council president. Add football captain to that list too. He was going to have one hell of a great college application. I’d never come across a more ambitious student in all my four years of teaching.
