Chapter 19
VINCENT
I don’t recommend it. It’s not fun.
To be fair, Coach didn’t explicitly say he was going to torture me in every legal manner possible. However, his actions expressed what he wouldn’t confirm verbally.
Mandatory carpools to work every day. Five a.m. runs with him every morning, including on the weekends. Killer drills at training and awkward dinners where he grilled me on obscure football trivia over what I was sure was intentionally bland chicken.
I couldn’t prove it, but I was convinced he’d wired some sort of futuristic spyware into the Wi-Fi because he magically popped up every time I texted Brooklyn.
It was like bootcamp without friends. After a week, I was ready to go home and just let the intruder stab me.
To make matters worse, the team found out about my new living situation via a “leak” (aka Coach) and had proceeded to give me never-ending shit about it.
Besides Asher, Adil, and Noah, everyone thought I’d moved out of a hotel and into Coach’s house because I “needed a more comforting home environment.”
If they used common sense, they’d know that was bullshit because Coach was about as comforting as a radioactive hedgehog.
Stevens
Hey Cap, say hi to Coach for us, will ya? Now that you’ll be braiding each other’s hair every night and all
Samson
Don’t be insensitive. Cap doesn’t have enough hair for braiding. They’ll be snuggling up for Bake Off night instead
Don’t you dare bring Bake Off into this
Gallagher
It’s too bad Brooklyn doesn’t live with him. Imagine waking up and seeing her every day? I’d never leave the house. It’d be flatmates with benefits, y’know what I mean?
Say another fucking word about Brooklyn, and I’ll knock your teeth out
Stevens
Oooh
Samson
Oooooh
Adil
Oooooooooh
Stevens
Cap’s mad. You’re in big trouble, G
Gallagher
Wtf? Like you don’t all think she’s hot!
Gallagher
Since when did Cap get so possessive of her anyway?
Gallagher
Do you have a crush on her?
She’s the coach’s daughter. It’s about respect. Pull your head out of your ass long enough to find some
Gallagher
I feel like I’m being unfairly maligned for stating what everyone else is too scared to say
Let’s see if you feel unfairly maligned when my fist meets your face
Asher
Whoa, whoa. Let’s all calm down.
Asher
Gallagher, stop being such a prick. Vincent’s our teammate, and we should be supportive. He has enough problems right now
Thank you
Asher
Like deciding whether he should get matching PJs with Coach and picking what board game they want to play over dinner. Bonding’s important
Gallagher
Samson
LMFAO. He got you good
Fuck you all. You’re dead to me. Every single one of you
I’m uninviting everyone from my birthday trip
Gallagher
I can’t go anyway, so idc
Stevens
HA. You were a pity invite
Gallagher
You’re talking a lot of shit for someone who ALSO can’t go
Stevens
That’s not my fault! I told you Truffle has the Best Miniature Pig in Show competition that day! We’ve been training for months!
Adil
Why are you uninviting me from the trip?? I didn’t make fun of you
Adil
But if you’d stayed at my house, this wouldn’t have happened. I’M JUST SAYING.
Gallagher
Now that you bring it up, I’m a little offended you didn’t ask to live with me, Cap
I would’ve if you ever washed your balls properly. You stink.
Samson
SHOTS FIRED
Gallagher
That’s a low blow. My balls are clean as fuck. I can prove it.
Gallagher
[CENSORED PHOTO]
Stevens
Gallagher!
What the fuck!
Asher
I’m in public. What the hell’s wrong with you??
Samson
Hell no, I ain’t opening that
Noah
…
Noah
Please, for the love of God, let me leave this group
Noah
Do not add me back
Noah Wilson left the conversation.
Adil Chakir added Noah Wilson to the conversation.
Noah
I hate you so much
I shook my head. The group chat was always chaos, but that didn’t explain why I wanted to march over to Gallagher’s house and punch him right now. He was notorious for talking shit, and it wasn’t the first time he’d made suggestive comments about Brooklyn.
My jaw tightened.
I could handle his digs at me, but Brooklyn was off-limits. I had no tolerance for his sleazy jokes anymore.
I tried to breathe through the irritation. It wasn’t Gallagher’s fault that I was suddenly messed up in the head about Brooklyn. He had no idea what’d been going on the past month.
Still, I wouldn’t mind one punch. A quick one.
“DuBois.” Coach’s voice pulled my attention away from the chat and to the doorway. He stood just outside my room, his expression measured.
Maybe he’d upgraded his spyware if he was showing up when I just thought about her.
I straightened. “Hey, Boss. What’s up?”
My survival philosophy was if I acted like everything was normal, everything would eventually be normal.
Nevertheless, my inner alarm bell rang as he walked in and swept his eyes over my new room.
A double bed covered by a navy duvet, wooden floors, a single desk and chair—it was Spartan with a capital S.
The small window would’ve provided a welcome ray of natural light if it weren’t so gray and dreary outside.
It reminded me of a prison cell, which was fitting because I was basically trapped in this house outside of training and matches.
I never thought I’d say this, but I missed the stuffed animals and sparkly pink sheets in Brooklyn’s flat.
I also missed Brooklyn. A lot.
We saw each other at Blackcastle, but we had an unspoken agreement not to interact unless necessary at work. Neither of us wanted to trigger Coach’s anger again.
Our texts were my only lifeline, but even they lacked our old spark.
Our kitchen conversation and near-kiss had smothered it.
They were the elephants in the room, the topics we’d avoided talking about since I left her flat, and it was impossible to have a real conversation about anything else without addressing them first.
“I have some news.” Coach stopped two feet in front of me. “We’re expanding the bachelor auction at this year’s gala. Every player is expected to take part, including you.”
“What?” I shot to my feet, my pulse thundering. “You can’t be serious.”
The annual Blackcastle Holiday Gala was the club’s biggest social event of the year.
Everyone came—players, staff, sponsors, fans who were willing to shell out hundreds of pounds for a ticket.
It was an excuse for Blackcastle fans and staff to gather in one place, eat free food, and drink copious amounts of champagne, all while raising a load of money.
The highlight of the gala was the bachelor auction. Attendees bid to win a “date night” with each player, and all proceeds went to a local children’s hospital.
“I’m dead serious.” Coach’s mouth twitched. He was enjoying my discomfort a little too much. “This comes from the top. All players must participate so it doesn’t look like we’re playing favorites.”
“What if I decline and donate enough money to cover the lost proceeds?”
“That’s not the point.”
“You’re telling me everyone is doing this? Including Noah?”
“Yes.”
Shit. If they’d roped Noah into participating, there was no chance in hell for me.
As captain, I’d pulled rank and successfully excused myself from participating years ago.
Everyone thought I’d love being the center of attention, but while I thrived in the limelight, I didn’t want to spend a whole evening with someone who was only using me for clout.
My “date” from my first and last auction kept posting pictures of us from dinner with kissy face emojis, despite my repeated requests for her to stop.
She later went to the tabloids and lied about us having sex.
Besides me, Noah was the only player who’d been exempt. I didn’t know what he’d told management, but it had worked—until now.
I made a last-ditch attempt to save myself. “My intruder is still out there. What if they show up and win the bid for me?”
“If they cough up enough money to win, then I wish you two a very happy date night.”
That was fucking cold.
I grumbled in resignation. At least I could comfort myself with the knowledge that Noah would be right up there with me, hating life.
Coach hesitated. He glanced at my phone, and I was gripped by the sudden fear that he’d comb through my texts. Brooklyn and I had mostly been making small talk for the past week, but if he scrolled up further, he’d definitely find some old flirty messages.
“Have you heard—” He stopped and shook his head. His brow creased into a frown. “Never mind. Don’t forget, we have our run tomorrow. Five a.m. sharp.”
I waited until he left before I let out a loud groan.
I stared at my cell. Like Coach, I also wanted to reach out to Brooklyn.
Unlike him, I knew our inevitable talk wouldn’t mend things—it’d change them completely.