Chapter 32
Elias
I was rarely afraid. A man such as myself did not need to be afraid.
And yet June terrified me.
I was afraid of telling her what happened to my family. Afraid she would judge me for getting drunk once a year. Afraid that it would change the way she looked at me, afraid she would pity me.
Afraid of the way I felt about her.
I did not allow anyone in. Not my teammates or members of the Reapers staff, beyond Coach Jay. Telling June about my family made me feel vulnerable in a way that I rarely felt, in a way that created a ball of pain in the pit of my stomach.
But she accepted me. She didn’t pity me. And that meant everything to me.
I desired her so badly and was afraid she would reject my advances. Yet when I pulled her into my lap and kissed her, she welcomed my lips with even more desire than I felt for her.
My relief was immense, followed quickly by my burning need for her. To touch her, squeeze her, drive into her and see her eyes widen with pleasure.
Somehow, it was better than I ever imagined.
We clung to each other after, chests heaving as we savored the release we had shared. Slowly, our breaths and hearts calmed. And yet I did not let go of her.
“I have to get dressed,” she whispered.
“I know.”
“That means you have to release me.”
“I know.”
Her giggle vibrated into my body in the most wonderful way. “Okay, seriously. If we get caught, we’re fucked. By which I mean I’m fucked, because as a player, you’ll probably only get a slap on the wrist.”
I knew she was right. If we were caught, she would receive the brunt of the punishment. She was expendable, while I was not. A sad truth, but the truth nonetheless.
I went off to the locker room to clean up, and she did the same. When we returned to the bench press, we were both smiling.
“I needed that,” she admitted. “I’ve had a bad couple of days.”
“Yes,” I agreed. “Our road trip was not good.”
She leaned up to give me a quick kiss. “I’ve been dealing with some other things, but yeah. The road trip, too. Let’s get back to work.”
It was difficult to finish my workout after what we had done, but I slowly fell into a normal routine. Between sets, June and I shared private little smiles.
I was tempted to take her again. Once was not enough.
It was fortunate that I did not, however, because one of the assistant coaches came into the workout room a few minutes later. “Hey, June? Do you drive a Ford Bronco?”
“I do,” she said, frowning.
The assistant grimaced. “Someone stabbed your tire with a knife.” He held out a piece of paper. “And they left a note.”