Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 37217 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 186(@200wpm)___ 149(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37217 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 186(@200wpm)___ 149(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
What’s got me so twisted up is that I want to be with her for more than just sex. This isn’t just a physical thing. I enjoy being in her presence. I enjoy talking to her. She’s easy to talk to, and she makes me laugh. I can’t say that I’ve ever really felt so comfortable or at ease with somebody before. Back in the day, when I was Ryder’s age, I was all about the party and having a good time, but as I’ve gotten older, the more I enjoy the quiet. I don’t go out often and have found I’m not as into hanging out with fake people who glom onto celebrities and athletes as I used to be. But I enjoy hanging out with Cami. A lot.
“Cole, pull your head out of your ass! You’re up!”
Coach B’s bellowing voice pulls me out of my head and snaps me back to the moment. Everybody stares at me, most of them laughing. All except for Ryder who stands off to the side with a sour look on his face.
“Sorry,” I say with a grin.
I take my place under center, and as I do, Cami’s face floats through my mind. Rather than a distraction, I feel a sense of peace and calm descend over me. I hear her words echoing through my head. Hear the sincerity in her voice as she expresses her unfettered belief in me. Between that and the memory of yesterday flashing through my head, a torrent of adrenaline shoots through my veins.
“And go!”
I take the snap from the center and drop back three steps, quickly firing over the middle and hitting my receiver in stride. I steal a glance at Ryder, whose glower only deepens, and wink at him. And so it goes for the next forty-five minutes of the session. My footwork is on point, my release quick, and my passes crisp and accurate. It’s the best session I’ve had since I first stepped onto the field here. Coach B notices. And I know Ryder does too.
Coach B blows his whistle, ending the session, and gathers us around. He gives us a talk, offering some notes on things we need to improve on. I find it incredibly satisfying when he gives Ryder a lengthy list but offers me nothing other than praise. The rookie's face is sour, and I see him casting dark glares at a couple of the other young receivers I'd been throwing to. They give him a shrug and an apologetic look, telling me Ryder had expected them to make him look better by dropping the balls I was throwing. I've been around the league long enough to know how this shit works. But good on the rookies for standing up to Ryder.
“All right, that’s it. Hit the shower and we’ll break for lunch. After that, break into your position groups and get to the film study,” Coach B calls. “Cole, Simmons, hang back.”
As the team breaks for the facility to shower up, Ryder and I stay where we are. It’s too early for Coach B. to be naming a starter for the season opener, which tells me this little meeting is probably going to be less than pleasant.
“Okay, listen up,” Coach B starts. “I heard what happened in the training room today. I don’t know the details—don’t need the details. All I need to say is that you two are supposed to be the goddamn leaders of this team, but you’re acting like fucking children. That shit stops right here and right now. Do you understand me?”
Ryder and I exchange a look then turn back to Coach B and nod but say nothing.
“I don’t know what sort of beef you guys got, but it’s well past time you get over that shit. Carter, you’re a veteran. You’re the adult in the room, so act like it. Ryder, you’re acting like a child. You’re a pro football player now, so grow up,” he says. “Do you both understand me?”
“Yes, Coach,” I say.
“Yes, sir,” Ryder says.
“Good. Because if I hear of anything even remotely resembling what happened today again, you’re going to force me to make some really tough decisions—decisions I don’t want to make, gentlemen,” he says. “I think you both have a lot to offer this organization. I think we can all win a lot of games if we work together. So, figure your shit out. Am I clear?”
“Yes, sir,” Ryder says again.
“Crystal, coach,” I say.
“Good. Oh, and one last thing,” he says. “You both need to stay the fuck away from my daughter. Find somebody else in the training department to work with. I don’t want to see either one of you near Cami again.”
And with that, Coach B turns and stalks away, leaving Ryder and me staring after him. The rookie casts me a dark, dirty look. For a moment, I wasn’t sure I heard Coach B right. Cami is his daughter? I honestly had no idea because she never told me.