Possessive Coach

Sara has the right idea. Maybe not breaking his knees, but we do need to find a way to break his power. If Hardy could just see what his star player is doing and understand how dangerous and psychotic it is, he just might do the right thing. But right now, the man’s blinded by cash.

I take out a book and try to read. I’m supposed to meet with some kid on the diving team, but he’s never been scheduled before, and first-timers rarely show up. Fortunately for me, he’s about average, and ten minutes into my appointment, I’m still all alone.

At least until the door opens a crack. I sit up straight, afraid it’s going to be Erik. But instead, David steps into the room wearing his coaching outfit, the polo in team colors and a pair of black slacks and sneakers. He spots me and smiles as he walks over. I marvel up at him, at his tall, muscular frame, and I wonder how I got so lucky.

“Hey,” he says. “Glad I found you alone.”

“You’re lucky. I’m scheduled to meet with Russ the diver.”

“Russ the diver is stupid for standing you up.” David hesitates then pulls out a chair and sits.

“You probably shouldn’t be here,” I say. “I don’t think anyone else is scheduled, but sometimes people just show up to use the room.”

“I know.” He hesitates. “But I can’t help it. I had to see how you’re doing.”

I shrug. “I talked to Sara.”

“Really?”

“Told her about Erik.”

“What’d she say?”

“She thinks we need to take his power away.” I laugh a little. “Suggested we break his knees.”

David sits back and crosses his arms. He frowns at me for a long moment. “Huh.”

“She was joking,” I say. “We’re not actually going to do that.”

He keeps frowning at me and slowly tilts his head. “Huh,” he says again.

“David.”

“It’s not a bad idea,” he says. “If he can’t play, he’s not worth shit to Hardy anymore.”

“David.”

“I’m not sure how we could do it without getting caught though. But if we broke one of his knees bad enough that he couldn’t play all season, or hell, ever again, that would solve most of our problems. And the fucker would deserve it. We could—”

“David,” I say. “Stop.”

He sighs. “I know. It’s insane.”

“We’re not breaking his knees. You have to come up with another way.”

“She’s smart, your friend Sara.” He chuckles. “Although I wish she hadn’t spray painted that door. Otherwise it would’ve just been throwing toilet paper, which isn’t a huge deal. I would’ve owned up to that.”

“She wants to step up and take the blame for the spray paint, but I’m not going to let her.”

“Good friend,” he says. “But you’re right. At least one of us should be able to get away with this.”

“That’s what I said.” I stretch and yawn. “We just need to take away his power. That’s all we need to do. No problem, right?”

“Sure, no problem.” He leans across the table and reaches out, touching my face. He pulls me closer and kisses me before standing up. “All right. I just wanted to check on you.”

“No breaking his knees,” I warn.

“Sure, whatever you say.” He grins at me. “See you later, my Chloe.”

He turns and leaves the room and I let out a little sigh. A smile slips across my lips, even though all day I’ve felt like throwing up.

Hearing those words, my Chloe, makes me grin like an idiot. Despite all this, having him around, feeling him kiss me, it still drives me wild with need and joy. It’s stupid, I know, and I should be thinking more about what to do with Erik.

But instead, I just keep thinking about kissing my man and feeling him press tight against my body.19DavidI wander through the athletics building early the next morning, my mind spinning.

Sara said we need to take away his power, and I agree. I keep coming back to breaking the kid’s knees, even though I know that’s not a realistic plan. I can’t just break into his house with a steel bat and go to town until he screams in pain and begs me to stop.

Even though that’s kind of exactly what I want to do.

I head back toward my office, going slow, staring at the floor. I think about Chloe and her beautiful lips pressed against mine, and I think about Erik’s face getting smashed against the ground.

I almost don’t see it.

I know this locker room like the back of my hand. I spend almost as much time in this place than I spend in my own apartment. I definitely think about it more, think about the layout, the way the guys more through the space, what it means for the team to exist here. I think about the flow, as weird as that sounds.

And I still almost miss the sign hanging on Coach’s door.