Watching from the end of the hallway as she laughed it up with Braxton Slate, I saw red. Her hand came to rest on his bicep as they spoke, and he acted like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Braxton was a good kid. He was a great player and an exceptional leader. But what was it about the redheaded stunner that made him forget that he was also a devoted boyfriend? His girl, Dakota, was a sweetheart, and they were a perfect match. I’d had a front-row seat to their lovefest for over a year now as he assisted Jenner in getting me back onto my feet after the injury. So, why, all of a sudden, was he flirting withmygirl?
Sleeping with her once doesn’t make her your girl, dipshit. By that logic, you’ve got a massive harem waiting for you.
Telling my conscience to fuck off, I stared at the interaction between Bristol and Braxton with my fists clenched, my teeth grinding so hard I was positive I would need dental work. As a former player, I was no stranger tothe dentist’s chair. Out of habit, my tongue traced over the four teeth that weren’t real, but only I could tell.
The third time Bristol’s head dropped back in laughter, I snapped.
“Miss Cooper, a word?” My voice boomed, echoing against the concrete walls beneath the arena.
Braxton’s head turned in my direction first, and that little fucker smirked at me. I made a mental note to ride his ass hard the next time the team took the ice. A little reminder of who was in charge and that I was not to be fucked with.
When Bristol turned, her blue eyes narrowed. I didn’t give a shit that she was pissed; I was right there with her. Did she really think she could give me a spiel about needing this job and how sleeping with me could jeopardize her position, and then turn around and flirt with my players? Not on my watch.
Jealous prick.
Braxton gave her a gentle pat on the shoulder, urging her forward. It took every ounce of energy I possessed not to march down the hall and break that hand for touching her.
Heels clacked on the polished concrete floors as Bristol made her way to where I stood. Today, she was dressed in a navy blue sleeveless turtleneck sweater dress that clung to her form, shifting as she stepped closer. A thin gold chain acted as a belt, matching the gold bangles along her wrists. Before I could stop myself, I was picturing her naked, wearing only those bangles, and me finding a way to link them together so her wrists were bound as I pounded into her soft flesh.
Annoyance laced her tone when she stopped before me. “What can I do for you, Coach Sterling?”
God, my hands itched to spank her ass for being a little brat.
I made sure that my irritation was unmistakable when I spoke. “So, you’ll givehimthe time of day?” I tilted my head in Braxton’s direction. He was watching our interaction from where she’d left him.
Glancing over her shoulder briefly, Bristol turned back to me and rolled her eyes. Fingering the badge at her waist, she drew my attention to it. “You see this here? This means I’m with the press. And part of my job is talking to the players. Or have you been out of it so long that you’ve forgotten?”
She was goading me, and she knew it.
Mindful of our audience, I resisted the urge to pin her to the wall to show her who was really in charge.
“Yeah, that’s what it looked like. ‘Doing your job’.” Sarcasm dripped from every word. “Just so you know, he’s attached.”
An unladylike snort flew from her nose. “I’m well aware.”
That got my attention. “I didn’t realize in-depth knowledge of the players’ personal lives was part of your job description.”
Bristol glared at me, stepping closer like she might intimidate me. I would have thought it was cute if I wasn’t so damn aggravated.
“It’s not,” she replied.
“So, you admit it, then? That you’re interested in Braxton beyond the game?” I challenged.
“Jesus,” she huffed out. “Is this what it will be like every time I have a conversation with your players? If so, it’s going to get old fast.”
“It won’t be a problem so long as you remember your place,” I practically growled.
Both hands flew to her hips, and her voice turned lethal. “And what place is that, exactly? Inyourbed? Jealous, Coach?”
Fuck. She had me nailed, but I wasn’t willing to give her the satisfaction, even as my nostrils flared.
“That’s what I thought,” she taunted. “How about this? You do your job, and I do mine. Sound good?”
When I didn’t answer, she spun on her heel and sauntered away, throwing a little extra sway into her hips for effect.
God, if I ever got my hands on her again . . .
