Page 32 of Topping the Jock
“I see you got yourself a souvenir,” Monty said, after jogging up beside me in the hall. “Is your head okay?”
I snarled at him. “It was fine until you showed up.”
He clicked his tongue. “That’s not very friendly, Mr. Beck.” He leaned in closer. “Especially after the intimate way we got to know each other yesterday.”
My face heated, as did the rest of me. And damn him to the fiery pits of hell, my cock twitched at the memory of how he tasted as I’d kissed him, how he’d moaned as I touched him.
“Go away,” I said.
“Rude.”
“Your face is rude.”
Monty laughed and stepped toward his classroom. Before he walked inside, he tossed me a smirk over his shoulder. “See you later.”
“Don’t threaten me,” I said, trying to glare at him, but it faltered. Much like my resolve.
He smiled again before going into the room. I went into my classroom and released a sharp exhale, tossing the plastic football on to my desk. God, he infuriated me. I had thought after getting the upper hand on him yesterday, it would be so much easier to keep him at a distance. Easier to keep a cold attitude and ignore him.
But the plan had backfired. I wanted him even more now.
“Hey, Mr. Beck!” Dean said, entering the room. He wore a nice button-up shirt, a tie, and slacks. “Are you gonna come to the game tonight?”
Football really wasn’t my thing. I barely understood what position did what, and the rules went over my head. I had picked up on some of it in college when I’d followed Monty’s stats, however it all still confused me.
“Is it a home game?” I asked.
Dean nodded.
“I’ll consider it,” I answered, not wanting to be the reason the excitement dimmed in his eyes. Maybe I’d see if my dad wanted to go with me. He loved sports. “Either way, I wish you good luck.”
“Thanks.” He took his seat at the front of the room.
After school, I shoved homework assignments into my bag and left the classroom. The halls were a flurry of activity as students stayed for after-school programs and others waited for their friends before going to the football field. The game didn’t start until six, but kids liked to hang out in the bleachers and around the concession stand.
I nodded to one of my AP students as I passed, then stepped out of the way as cheerleaders passed carrying a large paper sign that the football team would bust through later that night when running onto the field. The girls—and boys, because there were two male cheerleaders on the team—had written the names of all the players and catchy phrases likeGo, Fight, Win!
Somehow, I wound up in the athletic hallway. My feet had carried me there while my mind had been elsewhere. Or so I told myself. Because I’d never admit I had actually wanted to see a certain pain-in-the-ass coach.
Monty came out of his office and smiled when spotting me. “Told you I’d see ya later.”
“Don’t get the wrong idea,” I said. “I only wanted to come by and wish you luck. But not because I like you. I just want the team to do well.”
“Uh-huh.” His smile widened. “Whatever you say, Specks. You gonna watch the game?”
“Possibly.”
“You should.” Monty shoved his hands into his pockets. “It would do you good to show some school spirit.” After checking to make sure we were alone, he added, “And you’ll get to stare at my ass the whole night.”
“You say that like it’s something I’d enjoy.”
Monty stepped closer. “Wouldn’t you?”
“No,” I lied.
He shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
My gaze trailed down his face and to his lips, then followed the curve of his neck right down to his collar and tie. My mouth fucking watered. Out of all the men in this town,whydid it have to be Monty I couldn’t get out of my head?
