Page 53 of Worth the Scandal
Coach is pacing.
And not his usual sideline strut. This is full dictator energy. Hands behind his back. Slow. Menacing. Like a lion preparing to maul a zebra, or a dad finding out his star fullback is canoodling with his daughter who is also now his manager. And canoodling is putting it lightly.
“Gentlemen,” he says, voice gravelly and low, “there are rules.”
We all straighten up like terrified kindergartners. I’ve got a funny feeling this lecture is about to be directed at me, and only me.
“Rules are what keep a team running. What builds structure. Discipline. Respect.”
I hear Collins whisper, “Is this about the wet hoodie?”
Coach snaps his head in our direction like a sniper spotting movement in enemy territory.
“Someone in this team broke those rules.”
We collectively stop breathing.
“So now? We all pay.”
And just like that—hell opens up in the grass below us and drags us all down, and I realise the impromptu morning shower was just the beginning, he knew Scarlett was watching. The old man went easy on me not for my sake but because he was bluffing his daughter.
Drills. Sprints. Pushups. Bear crawls across a field hot enough to fry a bacon and eggs breakfast on. I think Jace actually cries during the fourth round.
Halfway through a set of hill runs, someone finally breaks.
Of course, it’s Caleb.
He jogs beside me, smirking like a cat who just saw the canary get grounded.
“Wouldn’t have anything to do with you rocking up soaked this morning, would it?” he says, voice too casual.
“Back off, mate.”
“Oh, come on,” he taunts. “What was it, midnight swim? Early morning dip at Scarlett’s pool house, the one with blue and sand coloured wallpaper? You don’t think you’re the only one who’s been in there do you?” I know he’s trying to get under my skin, but I could punch his fucking face in for even insinuating what he is right now.
Before I can answer, Collins—God bless him—chimes in from the other side of the line.
“Didn’t you hear, Caleb?” he pants. “Asher signed with Maroon Management. Scarlett’s his now. Legally and all.”
That stops Caleb’s mouth moving cold.
He looks at me.Realslow.
“Oh yeah?” he says, lips twitching. “Guess she still doesn’t know the big secret then, huh? Wouldn’t have opened her legs knowing that.”
I pause for a beat.
The world slows.
And I don’t remember grabbing his jersey or slamming him to the ground. All I remember is the snap inside me. The spark that becomes a wildfire. Like flicking a lighter over a petrol doused bonfire.
Fists fly. Grass tears. People yell. Every ounce of hatred I’ve ever had for this cocky prick rears and pulses through my veinsstraight into my fists. I’ve laid a few on him, he fucking deserves it speaking about Scarlett like that the jealous dog.
And then—
“ENOUGH!”
Ted’s voice booms across the field.
