Chapter 13
Taylor
Being on the phone with Harper and watching her come with the vibrator she named for me was an interesting experience, to say the least. I want her so much I can barely concentrate before Monday’s warm up.
I have to make this game count. The press was in my face last night again and not even jacking off to Harper’s moaning made that better.
I’m trying to keep my head in the game and it’s not working.
Football has been everything to me until I met Harper and now I’m questioning…
everything. I know I’m a good trainer, but is that really enough for me?
Can I make that a career I love as much as this one?
Harper makes me think I can. She makes me believe I can do anything.
Is that a good thing, though? I’m completely falling for her, and I didn’t expect that.
I never wanted to be consumed by a relationship.
It’s why I haven’t been in anything long term for years.
It doesn’t work. I always end up choosing between the game and the girl. I don’t want to do that with Harper.
It all comes down to how this game goes.
We won last night but just barely. I don’t feel great about it.
There’s so much I would have done differently.
Tonight, I have the chance to make that happen and pull together a few plays that will make these reporters shut the fuck up about me retiring for the rest of the season.
Then I can have some time to make a real decision.
None of it solves how I get Harper out of my mind. I can’t run plays with a boner. It’s fucking creepy even if I’m wearing a cup and no one knows. It also feels like a great way to get a weird injury. Her moan plays over and over in my head. What is she doing to me?
The guys are noticing too. I’m withdrawn, don’t want to go out with them when we’re on an away game, and I only want to spend time alone.
I want to think about her and talk to her all the time.
I don’t get it. I was friends with her for years before we started fucking. She didn’t do this to me then.
So what changed? It can’t just be sex. Her vagina isn’t magical.
Ugh it fucking is, though.
“Taylor, come on we’re starting!”
I snap out of my reverie over Harper’s vagina and grab my helmet to follow Mike. Warm-up is starting. I don’t have time to think about this shit. I have to make this game count. I keep saying it over and over in my mind.
On the field, I concentrate on the smell of the turf, the lights in the stadium, and the seats that are about to be filled with fans on both sides, cheering us on as we play. This is my domain. I mean, Harper’s vagina is also my domain, but I can’t think about that right now.
By the time the game is starting, I’m still barely in it.
This is not what I wanted. I do the best I can, snatching interceptions and causing fumbles for the other team, and we win, but I don’t stick around for the press.
I can’t deal with their bullshit right now.
I have the urge to call Harper, but I tamp it down.
I need to figure out how this is all going to work.
I have to find a way to separate her from the game.