“Try me.”
I scoff, but I watch as his dark eyes narrow, and something tells me he’s telling the truth.
I stand slowly, as if I spotted a bear in the woods.
“Now!”he screams, and I nearly trip on my chair trying to leave.
Coach starts counting behind me, and I don’t risk the time it would take to turn to look at him. Instead, I grab at the door, yanking it open only to fall flat on my ass as it doesn’t budge.
“What the fuck?” I mutter, grabbing for the handle to help me up. I yank it again as Coach snaps at me.
“What’s the problem, Henry?”
“Door won’t open, Coach!”
“The fuck do you mean?”
His footsteps feel like the tick of a bomb as my ears rush with adrenaline, my whole body growing hot. I tug on the door a couple more times, tears forming in my eyes as I know he’s going to quite literally tear me a new asshole if he gets over here. It’s going to hurt.
And finally, it budges. Swings right open, nearly punching a hole in the wall where the door handle hits it.
“Oh, thank god,” I mutter as I run out. The door slams behind me, and when I stop to catch my breath, I turn to look at it.
Only to find Leo leaning against the wall next to the door, a shit-eating grin spread across his stupid face.
I look from him to the door. “Did you do something to the door?” I ask, my eyes narrowing.
He shrugs, but says, “I would never, and I’m offended that you would even think that.” I watch him for a few more seconds before he cracks.
“You’re such an asshole,” I hiss, turning back around.
“You really want to do this thing, don’t you?” he asks, catching up to me quickly. Our steps fall into line with each other, and I can feel Leo staring a hole into the side of my face.
“I kinda agreed to it already,” I wince. Of course, the show knows they need things signed off not only by the team but also by the league. From what I gather, they already have the league's permission by positioning it as a hook to bring in an even wider audience. There have been shows that have done this in the past, following teams and players during their season. The only difference is that they’d be following my love life throughout the season. All they really need now is for the team to sign off.
Which, well, isn’t exactly something I could see Coach loving. My asking him was a professional courtesy of sorts. I knew he wasn’t going to be happy with me, but I didn’t think it would go as terribly as it did.
While the shows exist, most teams hate being picked for them. Coaches don’t like cameras everywhere, and some even believe that they bring bad luck.
I am, however, my own good luck charm.
What I really need to do is butter up the owner and our General Manager.
But that can come tomorrow. I’ll get the boys together at my place, have some 10 pm mimosas and popcorn, and come up with a game plan. A boy's night.
“Sometimes I think I’m the biggest problem on this team, and then you go and do this.” Leo chuckles, rubbing the back of his head. It’s said with love. Back when Leo was spiraling out of control, the whole team took a hit. No one knew what to tell reporters. Rookies had no idea who to look to for leadership. Leo’s done a world of good for this team, but there were quite a few rough patches.
Did we enable it? Well, sort of.
But in the end, it all worked out, right?
Thanks to Briar.
I knew the second this idiot looked at her with his big ‘ol puppy eyes that he was a goner.
“What are your plans?” he asks as we turn into one of the lounges. One of the nutritionists fills a water bottle across the room, and a trainer is in the other corner eating their bland chicken and rice. The place is mostly a ghost town these days, with only a few players coming in for strength training and meetings.
I lift a shoulder. “I don’t know. It’s good exposure. You don’tactuallyfind love on these shows, right?”
