He continues. "What's between you is a professional relationship that you've corrupted." His voice is steel. "Nothing more. And it ends now."
"With all due respect, Coach, that's not your decision to make." I stand my ground, meeting his glare. "It's Elena's. And mine."
Something changes in his expression—the anger hardens into something colder, more dangerous. "You think because you're a star player, you can do whatever you want? Not this time."
He moves so suddenly I don't have time to react. He grabs my arms, pulling me up and shoving me backward until my spine hits the wall. There’s raw fury in his eyes.
"Stay the hell away from my daughter." Each word is deliberate. "If I find out you've gone near her again—if I evencatch you looking at her—I will make sure you never play another game in this league. Are we clear?"
I could push back. Could break his grip easily—he's strong for his age, but I've got youth and size on my side. But the devastation in his eyes stops me. This isn't just my coach threatening me. This is a father trying to protect his daughter.
From me.
"We're clear," I say, my voice rougher than I intended.
He steps back, releasing me, his breathing slightly ragged. "Get out of my office."
I straighten my shirt, moving toward the door on unsteady legs.
"I know you won't believe me," I say without turning around, "but I care about Elena. More than I've ever cared about anyone. I would never deliberately hurt her."
"Intentions don't matter," Coach says, his voice flat. "Results do. And the result of your involvement with my daughter could destroy her. So I'll say it one more time: stay away from her."
I don't respond, just slip out the door, closing it behind me. The hallway is mercifully empty as I lean against the wall, eyes closed, trying to process what just happened.
Coach is right about one thing—I didn't think about the consequences when this started. Didn't consider what it might cost Elena. I was selfish, impulsive, thinking only of what I wanted.
But he's wrong about the rest. Wrong about what I feel for her. Wrong that she’s just another conquest, another fleeting desire.
The question now is whether I can prove it to him. To Elena. To myself.
And whether I should even try, knowing what it could cost her.
Chapter 16
Elena
Ilook down the hallway before walking to my father's office, checking for lingering staff or players. A week has passed since that grainy photo hit the internet, and I’m still worried every day that it’s going to be revealed that I was the woman in the photo with Nate.
The training facility administrator glances up as I pass her desk. I feel like she looks at me knowingly. Like she suspects it was me. Or heard something from someone who thinks they know.
"He's waiting for you," she says, her voice carefully neutral.
I nod and continue down the hall, counting my steps to try to maintain composure.
This past week has been excruciating. I've immersed myself in paperwork, hiding in my office whenever possible. Dr. Mendez has taken over Nate's sessions—a change explained away with vague references to "trying a fresh approach."
I've avoided team practices, meal times–anywhere Nate might be. When unavoidable encounters occur, we perform an elaborate dance of not looking at each other.
I knock on Dad's door.
"Come in," he calls.
I push the door open and step inside, closing it behind me. Dad sits behind his desk, reading glasses perched on his nose as he reviews what looks like game statistics. He glances up, removing his glasses.
"Elena," he says. "Sit down."
I take the chair across from him, back straight, hands folded in my lap. I feel like I'm interviewing for the job I already have—and might be about to lose.
