Chapter 19 – RHETT
RHETT
Then make it so they don’t. Goddammit! Her words reverberate through my skull.
The salty, sweet taste of her sweat. The sexy little moans she had only for me.
The moment I walked out, all I wanted to do was go right back in.
Then last night, when I was alone in my bed, it took everything in me not to text her just to fucking talk to her.
“Run it again!” I bark, wrapping my whistle around two fingers before I flick my wrist and spin it around the other way. “My fucking grandmother could catch a ball better than that.”
It’s true. She’s the one who taught me how to catch, and if women were allowed in the NFL, she would have been a fucking bruiser.
The guys are covered in sweat and piddling into puddles.
It’s hot as blazes out here and humid to no end, but I’m too worked up to care, so they’re getting my wrath.
Russel is on the field today, but other than a text last night telling me he was in town and ready for today, you’d never know he was my son.
I have two players on the sidelines sitting in front of fans and drinking fluids to help their cramps.
They likely need IVs, but I’m not a doctor.
I just want one. I can still feel her. That’s the problem.
Her warm thighs on either side of my hips, her hot skin beneath my lips, her soft tits that I barely got a brush of.
I was a half beat from picking her up and bringing her upstairs to her bed. I wouldn’t have stopped. I would have stripped her down to nothing and spent all day and into the night feeling her and touching her and smelling her. I would have made her sweat harder.
I would have made her mine.
She’s not wearing off. She’s not a novelty. It wasn’t distance or loneliness, nor the fun of something new and different. I want her. First time in twenty-five years I’ve felt this strongly about someone and it’s with the wrong woman.
As it is, it took every ounce of self-control I had left in me to pull away and leave.
I ended up running another two miles, then lifting weights in my home gym until my muscles were so tired and sore I could hardly do much other than shower and make myself something to eat.
I watched more game film and took notes, but dammit all if my eyes didn’t perpetually stray toward the front window.
Having her so close almost makes me want to move.
I’m seventeen years older than her. I was practically an adult when she was born. The way I want her is wrong. But the worst part? She wants me back, and it makes this so much harder knowing that.
I don’t want to want her. I don’t want to have my eyes betray me more times than I can count as they crawl toward the sidelines, anxious for even a glimpse.
We run the play three more times with different defensive packages attached to it. I’m still not satisfied, but I also don’t want anyone dying out here. Tomorrow is supposed to be even hotter, and I think I’ll move us to the indoor arena so I can get more production out of them.
Up ahead, I spot Quinn signing with Crew and Mason.
Whatever they’re saying to each other is a lot and appears to be heated.
Not the easy conversation they had the first time I saw them do this.
She walks beside them in her T-shirt and shorts, her elbow covered in a large Band-Aid.
I hope it doesn’t hurt or get infected, but she’s a doctor and not my concern.
Her hair is up in a ponytail that’s looped through the back of her hat, showing off the delicate skin of her neck that’s dotted with a few more freckles than it was the other day.
“She’s talking them out of kicking my ass again,” Russel says, coming in beside me. Shit. Did he just catch me staring at her?
I clear my throat. “How can you tell that?”
“Instinct. I know how they talk to each other. I also learned a little ASL while we were dating.”
“You need to sit down and talk to them.”
“I think you should be there with me as the coach.”
I nod. “All right. After you shower, the three of you will come up to my office.”
“Thanks, Coach.”
Coach, not Dad, but that’s what I am here. He’s never called me that unless it was mocking or in disdain.
I give him a firm nod and jog up to Crew and Mason to let them know. I don’t look at Quinn. I don’t acknowledge her. It’s how it has to be. I have no right to her. But more than that, no one can know she’s the only thing I see.
Mason agrees, and Crew comes on board. I head upstairs to my office and shower off a day on the field. Half an hour later, there’s a knock on my door, and there’s Russel. He looks around before he takes a seat at the table.
“This might not go well,” Russel says after a quiet moment.
“Why’s that?” I question, sitting on the edge of my desk.
“Quinn doesn’t know this, but both of them do. I bought her a ring and asked both of them along with her father for her hand.”
“You what?” barks out of my mouth, my body shooting upright along with it. “Russel, what the fuck? You were in a relationship with this girl to that point, and I never even knew about her.”
I can’t keep the hurt from my voice, but that seriously kills me. More than the fact that it’s her. He was so in love that he was thinking about marriage. Her brothers and father knew about it all, and I had no clue.
He bows his head, staring at his hands that are dangling between his parted thighs. “I was mad at you.” He chuckles ruefully. “I was always mad at you. Mom told me a lot of things over the years, and when I graduated college, your team didn’t pick me.”
Jesus. “I tried. I was a tight end coach back then. I didn’t have a lot of pull.”
“What do you want me to say? We didn’t have the best relationship, and it wasn’t always easy being your son.”
“Meaning what?” I do my best to keep the annoyance from my voice, but I did everything for this kid. Fucking everything.
Slowly he lifts his chin. “Meaning you’re a lot to live up to.”
I sigh, my hands going to my hips. “I never made you feel like you were less than you are. Not once.”
His lips twist. “Whatever. I don’t want to talk about this right now, and it’s not the time with them coming up here in a minute. I just wanted you to know because it might come out, and I didn’t want you to be blindsided.”
Too late. No wonder Crew hit him, and Mason was itching to be next.
Another knock sounds on my door. “Come in,” I call out, and Mason and Crew waltz in. They take the seats in front of my desk and not at the table, and yeah, this isn’t starting well.
“All right,” I start, rounding my desk and taking my chair so I can see all three of them at once and I’m not standing over them. “The deal is done. All parties agreed. So now we have to figure out how to do our jobs and play as a team without outside influences taking over.”
All three are silent before Crew spins in his chair and faces Russel. “Why’d you do it?”
“And why didn’t you talk to me?” Mason jumps in. “I was your quarterback, and if you felt you weren’t getting enough ball time or whatever bullshit you told her, why didn’t you talk to me?”
The answer isn’t easy, and I can see it all over Russel.
I may not know him as well as I’d like, but he’s still my son, and I do know him.
He didn’t leave because he wanted more ball time.
He left because he was afraid Quinn would take the ball time from him.
Except with his selfishness, he acted like a child.
Dallas is a shit team and hasn’t hit the playoffs in over six years. Yeah, they wanted him back then, and they paid him a lot, thinking he’d be their savior. It didn’t work out that way.
Now he wants to win. He wants to be a superstar. A legend.
But there’s no other woman like Quinn.
“I’m not sure the past matters that much,” I say, trying to defuse the tension. “What’s done is done.”
“It matters to me,” Mason states, and I sit back. They need to work this out together.
“I loved her. You both know I did.” Russel leans forward, dropping his elbows to his thighs. “She wasn’t going to be a football wife. She was going to be a surgeon. I was always going to come in second to that, and it would have limited any options I had.”
He glances over at me, and I wonder if he’s referring to my career and how I stayed in Florida for him. Interesting.
“I was young and selfish, and what I did to her was shitty. I know it was. I apologized to her the other day, and I meant it.”
More silence.
“How do we make this work? Because the three of you need to be a unit.”
“I don’t want him near my sister.” Crew stares him down before he flips back to me. “You want us all to get along, that’s my demand.”
“You can’t dictate my private life.”
“Watch us,” Mason bites out.
Russel blusters out a noise and sits back in his chair, throwing his hands behind his head and butterflying his elbows out.
“I got scared, okay? She was a gold medal athlete, graduated high school early, and was top of her medical school class. She wasn’t going to have time for me, and we already had little time to start with. ”
“Boo-fucking-hoo.” Mason isn’t having it. “I’m married to a doctor, and we have a son. We make time. Yeah, Quinn’s better than you. Everyone already knew that. What you never got was that having a woman who’s better and smarter than you are makes you better.”
Russel grunts and looks away.
“Our condition is unchanged.” Crew stands. “You want to play ball here? You want to win? You stay the fuck away from her or I’ll do more than break your nose next time.”
Mason stands beside Crew, everyone waiting for the verdict.
A nod. That’s all Russel gives them.
“Then we’re cool.” Mason slaps Crew’s shoulder. “We’ll see you tomorrow, Coach.”
Both of them leave my office, and I release a tense breath.
“Quinn’s a grown woman. They don’t have a say in this. If I want her back, it’s between her and me.”
My jaw locks, and my fists grow tight as something greasy and unpleasant curls its way through me.
Not my girl. Not my say.
Once again, I’m jealous. It eats me alive. A father is never supposed to be jealous of his child. I know I can’t have her, but how do I shake the desire for her?
Except I’m the coach of all my players, not just him. “You just agreed.”
Christ, I’m a bastard. What am I doing? Did I do that for Crew, Mason, and the team? Or for myself?
He makes a dismissive noise. “She’s not so hot on me right now anyway, but if there’s a shot, I’m taking it. For now, we’ll see how it goes.”