11. Jamie
Chapter 11
Jamie
F ootball tryouts arrived and were over before I had a chance to breathe and work through what had gone down with Chaz, which hadn’t been me, unfortunately. What I wouldn’t have done for another chance to make him come but this time on my knees with his cock shoved down my throat.
Dreamed about it.
Jerked off to the memory of his tongue in my mouth.
Moaned his name while shooting stripes of sticky white over my abs on a daily basis.
But he kept his distance, and I honored his request, attempting to bury my focus in the job I’d agreed to take on. Unfortunately, I was so damned distraught over the Chaz situation that I didn’t enjoy being on the gridiron again like I’d hoped for.
While a few of the boys who’d tried out for the team had decent enough talent, not one screamed superstar or even promised to lead us to a winning season. A girl named Gabby had shown up, determination in her eyes when she told me she was on the soccer team and was one hell of a kicker.
She hadn’t lied. None of the guys on the field could keep a kickoff in bounds or came close to splitting the uprights from even twenty yards away.
Gabby making the team was the easiest decision, and I’d noticed the annoyed glances she got from a few of the other boys who’d been on the varsity the year before. That, I wouldn’t allow.
The first official morning of practice, nerves a little on edge, I stood in front of our pitiful team, Coach Dave by my side.
Heat already rose off the grass beneath our feet, but I ignored it in favor of looking over each and every kid dressed in their red-and-white practice uniforms that had seen better days.
My voice shook as I began the speech I’d written and rewritten a million times, determined to let them know I expected inclusion and acceptance and that nothing else would be tolerated.
“I don’t care where you’re from, what pronouns you use, or what color your skin is,” I stated loudly enough even those in the back would hear. “We are a team, and we will act as a single unit both on and off the field, in school and out. That means having each other’s backs— all the time. If I catch wind of any bullying among you or even quiet, underhanded bullshit toward one another, you’ll be benched. Period. I don’t give a shit if you’re a starter or if we’re playing our biggest rival that night. Understood?”
Heads nodded, and more than a couple of, “Yes, Coach!” responses raised into the air.
“I expect everyone to give one hundred and ten percent. If the person beside you falls, you help them to their feet. Someone’s head hangs, you offer encouraging words to hype them up. We’re going to work hard, sweat, and bleed together, but I promise you’ll be better human beings by the end of this season.”
A few hollered their agreement.
“Now get your asses in gear and give me a lap!”
The kids took off, falling into line, some sprinting because of first day excitement. True colors would show soon enough.
Coach Dave clasped my shoulder. “Great speech, Coach.”
“Thanks. Was scared shitless, to be honest,” I said with a chuckle, my voice still shaky.
“I appreciate the inclusion part. Gabby is my niece, and I was afraid the boys would make shit hard for her, you know?”
Dave hadn’t told me details about any of the kids prior to tryouts. He’d wanted me to have fresh eyes on those returning as well as those recently graduated eighth grade, hoping things would be fair for everyone. Not that we’d turned anyone away. We needed as many kids on the sidelines as possible since a few varsity players would be on the field for both offense and defense.
“I’m happy to have her,” I said, grabbing my clipboard from off the bench and striding onto the field, ready to get this show on the road. Excitement trickled in as I watched them round the final corner and sprint toward us in the middle of the field. Reminded me of all those hot, sweaty days I’d done the same, visions of grandeur keeping me focused on the goal line. A small shot of adrenaline raced through me, and I actually grinned. “Let’s get these kids stretched out then see what they’re made of.”
Turned out, those kids were tough stock and I was proud as fuck. Only two puked, surprising for how hard we pushed them in the August humidity, but we had everyone stay hydrated and they got breaks throughout the morning’s session. We took time off for the kids to head home, eat, and rest then were back at it for a few hours after the heat had faded.
Day one had been a success as far as I was concerned. Not a single kid dropped out, and they left more wound up than I’d expected after probably having sat on their asses all summer long. While I’d been active and lifting weights, I groaned while stepping beneath the shower that night. Only a few years older than the seniors, and my body ached.
A week later into preseason practice, and I was dead on my feet. While I wasn’t nearly as physical as the kids on the field, I still stumbled into the house every night, beat and fucking starved, my knee sore as hell.
Friday, Dad snickered as I collapsed at the table where he’d saved me a plate.
Chicken parm.
“Fuck yeah,” I muttered, diving in without even washing my hands.
“How’d it go today?” Dad sat across from me, his after-dinner beer in hand.
With how busy we’d both been, I’d only seen him in passing, not really having time to catch up.
“Better than I expected,” I replied as soon as I finished a mouthful of crunchy coating, tender meat, and gooey cheese. “Gonna have to ice my knee again though. Kinda overdid it today.”
“You gotta take care of yourself, kid,” Dad said, getting back up and heading for the freezer.
“I’ll grab an ice pack after I eat,” I said, but he didn’t listen, filling a bag with ice cubes and wrapping it in a towel. “Thanks,” I mumbled when he handed it to me. Cold pack in place, I returned to the food, my insides sighing over the savory taste I barely gave myself time to enjoy before swallowing it down and forking up another bite.
Dad could cook like a damned master chef.
“If you ever get tired of trying to keep the citizens of Pippen Creek in line, you ought to open a restaurant.”
He laughed and reclaimed his seat. “You think I work too much now. I’d be married to a job like that, a fuck-ton hours a day, seven days a week.”
Sounded about right. Old Man Ron’s truck sat alongside Dig-In Tuesday through Sunday from breakfast until dinner and had from as far back as I could remember. He and his daughter Addy shut down on Mondays along with Thanksgiving and Christmas, but that was it. Didn’t seem like enough for either of them to have a life outside the diner.
“How are you feeling about the move now that the season has started? Any better than a couple of weeks ago?” Dad asked, and I considered his question while chewing, the tang of his homemade sauce making love to my taste buds.
He hadn’t pried much since I’d moved home, allowing me space and quiet to work through the shit in my head. Last we’d talked had been at the diner that night Chaz and Shelly were finishing up with their date.
“Some ups but mostly downs.”
“I’d hoped starting with the team would give you a bigger boost.”
I shrugged, eyeing my plate. “I’m just busy right now. A little overwhelmed. Feeling a little worthless outside coaching if I’m being honest.”
“Maybe you need some new hobbies. Go on another ride along with me since it’s been a while. Hang with Chaz this weekend. Grab some beers, kick back, and relax.”
A grimace etched on my face. “Yeah…not sure spending time with Chaz is a good idea.”
“Something happen?”
Shit . I rubbed a hand over my face and glanced across the table to find Dad’s brow deeply furrowed. “You could say that,” I muttered and shoved another bite into my mouth.
“Want to talk about it?”
“Not really, but going to therapy for months taught me spilling shit is better than bottling it up.”
Dad lounged back in his chair. “I’m all ears, and you know I won’t judge.”
And that was exactly why I trusted him with my truth. Or most of it, rather. I told Dad about the camping trip, what Chaz and I had discussed that night. Also went into the whole dinner thing with my best friend and his wife and how we ended up kissing in the kitchen while she’d slept. The ejaculating in our pants I kept to myself. Skirting the truth of how we’d ended the scene wasn’t lying.
“You love him.”
Jerking my focus off my food I’d been staring at while sharing what bothered me, I met Dad’s kind gaze. Zero trace of disappointment shone in his eyes over me making out with a married man. A small smile curved his lips, a reminder of the constant gentleness and his unconditional acceptance of me throughout childhood. I’d definitely been lucky to have him. Still was. He more than made up for my lack of a decent mother, always having my back.
“What makes you say that?” I asked, curious about how I’d given myself away.
“Please.” He leaned forward, chuckling, elbows on table. “You’ve been in love with that boy since middle school. Anyone with half a brain would have seen it had they paid close enough attention.”
The one person I wished caught onto my feelings back then had missed it, causing us both to end up unhappy with the path we’d taken. But I couldn’t blame Chaz. I’d been more focused on my dreams than my relationship status. I’d put football before him.
Mistake of a lifetime.
My face must have revealed my misery because Dad reached over and grasped my forearm. “Just keep swimming.”
I snorted, rolling my eyes over Dad quoting my favorite childhood movie.
“Seriously, Jamie. You’ve got this.”
“That’s my saying,” I reminded him.
“And I believe in you. Love him from a distance if that’s all you can have. Be his friend, and available whether it’s a shoulder to lean on or an ear to listen. Just keep your dick in your pants.”
Heat flushed my face. “Dad!”
He sat back and shrugged. “You wouldn’t want to be in Shelly’s shoes, would you?”
I snorted at the thought of sharing a bed with Chaz every night. “Fuck yeah, I would,” I answered honestly.
“I mean being the one cheated on.”
Leave it to Dad to speak the harsh truth.
Weeks passed without running into Chaz. I knew the man was under the gun, and whenever I drove past his shop, I craned my neck to catch sight of him. Whether the sun was out and the garage doors stood open or darkness blanketed town and interior lights shone at nine at night, he slaved away to make ends meet and prove his worth to his dad and himself.
I saw Shelly every time I stopped by Scone Haven for a coffee. They made the best in town, and I didn’t have any other option unless I headed south a few miles to hit the closest Dunks. Supporting local businesses had been ingrained in my head since childhood, and that wouldn’t change, no matter how much my stomach turned whenever Shelly smiled at me, her eyes lighting up.
Guess she had slept through her husband’s and my make-out session. Chaz had obviously kept his mouth shut about our actions as well or she wouldn’t have acted so damned nice while waiting on me.
When I exited the coffee shop, the guilt over being the reason he had cheated on her ate at my insides even if she didn’t deserve his love. Just as terrible, I couldn’t help but continue wishing she was out of the picture for good.
Talk about a shit friend. Could I be any more awful of a human?
But even though we’d been the three musketeers, according to the rest of the townsfolk who’d known us back in the day, she and I hadn’t ever been close. Shelly had been the tagalong younger sibling type who had followed us everywhere. Both Chaz and I had been like big brothers, even though we were all in the same grade. I wished I could pinpoint what had been the catalyst that had sent her and Chaz into a relationship, but looking back, I couldn’t recall jack shit.
But as the days passed, little things began to give me a hint of joy and a better sense of purpose.
Thanks from my players for making first string when they hadn’t expected to. Knuckle bumps from Coach Dave and appreciation in his eyes over how I ran the program. Seeing Gabby excel and the guys on the team acting more like brothers to her than rivals. A few other parents offering their time to help in whatever way they could—and showing up with sliced oranges or Gatorade after practice to prove they could be counted on.
Josh, our backup quarterback and a junior, attached himself to my hip and soaked up every word I said as though thirsty as fuck to learn from my experiences in the NFL. Like Chaz, he didn’t get along with his father, but unlike my best friend, Josh was out and proud, sometimes wearing mascara and lip gloss beneath his helmet.
I envied his confidence.
“God, I love that boy.”
I eyed Josh in my periphery on the sidelines, his focus on first string practicing a new play, helmet in his hands. He’d spoken quietly as though to himself, and I wasn’t sure if I ought to say something or keep my mouth shut.
Josh glanced over at me, and I gave him my attention, since Coach Dave was striding toward the defensive players, hollering about the missed tackle that allowed our running back to break for the end zone.
The kid’s eyes stated he wanted me to interact, that he needed this discussion.
“Can I ask who?” I lowered my voice so the others on the sidelines wouldn’t pick up on the conversation just in case it was a secret.
“Kyle,” Josh whispered back, a soft smile curving his lips, his face lighting up at his admission.
The first string quarterback, the one he always spatted with. His best friend.
My chest tightened, and I had to swallow before replying. “Does he know how you feel?” The question choked me, causing me to clear my throat.
“Nah. He’s straight.” Josh sighed and turned his focus to the field again, the longing in his eyes obvious now that I was aware of who his heart wanted.
If only I’d been brave as a teen, if only I’d opened my mouth and sought out advice at his age. I refused to encourage Josh to keep quiet, and I sure as fuck would assure him that I had his back no matter his decision.
“You ought to tell him.”
He whipped his head toward me. “And risk losing the only friend I have?”
“Better to have tried than to live with ‘what-ifs’ ringing in your mind every day.” Gravel coated my tone, and I swallowed hard.
Josh studied me in silence, his gaze too damn wise for a seventeen-year-old. “Sounds like you’re talking from experience, Coach.”
Eyes stinging, I nodded, indirectly coming out for the first time to someone other than my father. “I chased my NFL dreams instead of a happily ever after with the guy I loved, and now it’s too late. He’s married, and you damn well better believe I regret that decision.”
“Shit, man, that sucks.” Empathy filled his steady gaze.
“It really does.” I clasped his shoulder. “Most kids these days have to learn the hard way, but trust me when I say someday watching your best friend vow his love to another until death parts them will be the most painful experience of your life.”
“Worse than a career-ending knee injury?”
Fucking hell, that reminder hurt but not as harshly as the constant knife in my chest stabbing at my heart.
“Yeah, kid,” I rasped. “Lots worse.”
“Second string, let’s go!” Coach Dave hollered, and Josh took off without another word.
I watched him high-five Kyle as they passed each other, and a sense of peace settled over my melancholic heart.
If my return to Pippen Creek led to those boys finding happiness together, then all the shit I faced living in the same town with Chaz might be a little worth it.