“Groin injuries are common in football,” she pointed out, flatly. “I’m not clearing him to play again until I do a full assessment. So how about I do my job, and you do yours. Game’s not over, in case you didn’t realize.”
I blew out a breath like a dragon, so hot I was surprised little flames didn’t shoot out of my nose, too. But Sydney didn’t allow me to argue further. Instead, she signaled for two of our players on the bench to help her, and as a group, they got Parker off the ground and on his feet, supporting him to the locker room.
I watched them go, grinding the gum in my mouth between my teeth before I let out a growl and snatched my clipboard off the bench in time for the next play.
Everything went downhill from there.
We were down by three when Parker limped off the field, and it was as if our offense couldn’t get their shit together once he was gone. He was a natural leader, a key player, and without him, we suffered.
It didn’t matter how hard the defense worked to keep the Raptors’ score from climbing higher, our offense couldn’t score. Hell, they couldn’t even get us close enough for our kicker to get us into overtime with a field goal. I watched the clock run down on the last minute in the fourth quarter without Parker or Sydney returning to the field, and when the final whistle blew, I saw red.
We’d lost our first game.
At home, nonetheless.
It took every ounce of willpower I had to make it through shaking hands with the Raptors’s coach and each of the players on their team before I was sprinting toward the locker room, ignoring the calls of my name and unsolicited advice from the bleachers. The team was still gathering their equipment off the sideline to limp their sorry, losing asses into the locker room when I pushed through the doors, full steam ahead until I was standing inside Sydney’s office.
“We lost,” I said, waiting until she brought her gaze to mine before I continued. “So, tell me. What’s his big injury?”
Sydney blinked like she was bored, checking something off the clipboard in her hand. It was a bad time for me to realize that the red of our team polo blazed against her dark skin, or that the leggings she’d paired with it hugged her in all the right places, but I realized it.
And clearly, I wasn’t the only one.
“He’s fine,” she said, checking something off on the clipboard before she set it on her desk. “I did my full assessment and had him work through a few exercises to make sure. He should be good to go for practice Monday.”
“Well, isn’t that great? He couldn’t get back to finish out the game and get us a W, but at least he’ll be okay for practice!”
I was blowing my top.
I was being irrational.
I knew it, but I couldn’t stop it.
I was the calm one in my family, the sensible one out of all my brothers, no matter what was going on.
But when it came to football, my fuse was as short as my fingernails.
“Coach, this is my fault, not Sydney’s,” Parker said, raising his hand like he was in class. “I… you were right, I faked it. A few of the guys on the team dared me to. I waited until close to the end of the game because… well, I know we were down but... I guess I still thought we were going to win. I didn’t think… I’m sorry.”
Sydney’s mouth popped open, and I couldn’t help the smug smile that bloomed on my face.
Parker hung his head, staring at his hands in his lap as I stared a hole into his head. I would find out who made the stupid bet with him, and all parties would pay.
For now, I had a bigger fish to fry.
“Get out, Parker,” I said simply, calmly — which should have scared him more than if I had yelled.
He glanced at Sydney apologetically, then back at me.
“Out,” I hissed through my teeth. “And you better enjoy your weekend, because this field is going to be your own personal hell on Monday.”
I didn’t have to look at him to put the fear of God in him. He tucked his tail between his legs and hobbled out of the training room, as if he really were injured, and all the while, I kept my smug gaze on Sydney.
She inhaled a stiff breath, closing her mouth like she’d just realized it’d been hanging open this entire time. When her eyes met mine, there wasn’t an ounce of apology in them.
“Got anything to say for yourself?”
Her head popped back like I’d slapped her. “Um… you’re welcome for doing my job?”
“Your job.” I snorted. “I told you he was faking it.”