Page 151 of Steeling Her
Taking the chance, I lean into her and ravish her mouth, pressing her lips against mine along with our bodies. It’s a slow and passionate kiss that takes me to another dimension, like always. She’s this bright light for me, and I’m always being pulled towards her. Like a magnetic field drawing me into this amazing world with her, I know one thing is for certain.
I can’t let her go.
Chapter Thirty-Two
I Want the Girl
Nick
“Jackson!” My head snaps around to that voice I’ve come to hate even more this week. Coach has been on mine and Ryan’s asses each day. Just when I thought the time we had with him was over, he drags us both back under his wing to make us “bond,” even when we can’t stand each other.
“Pass it, Jackson.”
“Throw it now.”
“Run.”
“Let’s go again.”
“Go. Go. Go!”
That’s all I’ve heard this week. That, and my name. It’s taking everything I have to not throw in the towel and walk away. Everything.
“Jackson!” he repeats himself, this time with a little more edge in his tone. I turn my body to face him. Sweat is streaming down my bare chest in the dry heat. I’ve had enough for today. Coach can suck it for all I care.
“What?” I snap at him and he steps right into my personal space. I breathe in and out, trying to catch my breath again after running so many drills today.
“What kind of pass was that? My daughter could throw better than that!” he yells at me with heated eyes. I shut mine and sigh, trying not to let my fist to greet his face. I would gladly knock him out right now, but I need to play this game coming up.
“Maybe she should be quarterback then?” I counter. I have no energy to fight him on this. He’s been up my ass since day one. I’d say his own wife is sick of listening to him talk about me. I’d say she’d shudder if she hears my name.
“Maybe she should. And maybe you need to drop that attitude of yours too . . .” He narrows his eyes at me, trying to make himself look scarier than he actually is. I don’t even care what he does anymore. After this week, I’ll be back with Bulldog. He’s my main man. “Let’s go again.” He points down the field and I grind my teeth. I bite my tongue from making a snarky response. This is the fifty-fourth time we’ve done this drill.
Yes, I’ve been counting.
I’m that tired of this shit now. I do nothing but run around like a headless chicken. I eat and I sleep. I don’t even have the time to see Carter, hence my bad mood.
“I hear your name leave his mouth more times than I hear it leaving Maya’s when you two fucked. Jesus Christ, I’m sick of this shit . . .” Ryan and I both wipe our brows of sweat forming like they have all week whenever we step onto the field. The temperature has skyrocketed in the past week, and we’re all really feeling the heavy air in our lungs.
“Just start running, Averman.” I growl at him for bringing her up. I don’t want to hear her name anymore. I’m sick of her shit. She’s annoying and desperate, same with Erin. Ryan glares at me and paces himself to the starting point he knows all too well.
Fifty-five, this time.
“One more! Then you can call it a day!” Coach hollers at the two of us. I huff out one more breath as Ryan sets himself up one last time. The whistle blows and he takes off. I launch the ball right down the middle and he catches it with ease. I thank the Lord above I get to go home and rest for the night and tomorrow morning. Our game is tomorrow afternoon, and we need to get it together as a team. The guys were sloppy today and at the last game, for whatever reason. Bulldog wasn’t happy one bit.
We both gather our shirts that are laying on the ground and start to walk down the dark tunnel. We push the door open and get treated by the guys’ fresh scent. They have been in here for the past half hour while Ryan and I have been out running drills. Before I walk over to my section, a hand rests on my shoulder with a strong grip. I crane my neck to see who it is.
Seeing it’s Coach again, I groan, wondering what he wants with me now.
“I need a word, Jackson.” He nods to his office, and I lament internally.
“Can’t it wait? I stink and need a shower—”
“Now.” He doesn’t give any leeway with me. As he walks away, the room turns silent. I follow him inside. I shut the door when he tells me to and I sit on the chair in front of his desk. He leans forward on his own plush leather seat and clasps his two hands over each other in thought, resting it under his nose.
“I know you’re a little worried about tomorrow’s game, but we’ll be fine. We always pull through. We all have bad games coach, we can’t play exceptional all of the time,” I try to coax this meeting to a quick end. He’s not speaking at all. This has me now slightly anxious. “Coach?” I ask. He sits back into the seat and stares at me.
“I’ve been speaking with your father, Jackson,” he trails off, and I feel my brows start to furrow.Why the fuck have they been talking? What the hell is this meeting even about then?
