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My eyes roam the sidelines, looking for the only person I want to see right now. Finally, walking swiftly towards me, my eyes lock on the intensely proud gaze of my coach, and the man I fucking love. Bryant Nicks.
CHAPTER 36
BRYANT
He fucking did it.
I don't acknowledge a single other person–player, coach, or official. I'm making my way down the sidelines of the field before the whistle announcing the end of the game is even blown. My eyes haven't left his since he turned around in that end zone and those grey orbs locked on mine. He starts walking towards me, barely noticing his teammates as they reach him.
The whole crowd starts to rush the field, pouring over the walls, but we meet in the middle and I wrap my arms around him and pull him against my chest. It's a good thing he's wearing his helmet because I know without a doubt that I would go right in for the kiss right now. I don't want anything more at this moment.
I squeeze him tightly and murmur in his ear, although it's so loud he might not hear me. "I'm so fucking proud of you, baby. I fucking love you."
Freezing cold liquid gets poured over us both, which shocks me back to myself. I pull back, blinking orange sports drink out of my eyes and swiping my hair back with a laugh. I give Jack a proud nod and step back, letting his teammates and fans swarm him. I watch as they lift him up on their shoulders and parade him around the field before finally dropping him so the reporters can take turns talking to him. Unlike the cocky bulldog that I first met almost a year ago, Jack graciously attributes the win to the team as a whole and how they all worked together. When it's pointed out that he made a hell of an impossible game saving play, easily the highlight of the entire NCAA College Football year, he says he's thankful that he had a coach that rode his ass hard to make sure he was good enough to pull it off.
I have to look away when he says that, not only because he's cussing on live television, but because of the implications behind his words. They might not know, but I do.
And so does Aniyah, who is glaring at me from the sidelines, where she's been ignored by her supposed fiancée. I'd feel bad for her if she weren't blackmailing her way to ruining a stunning man's future. The dean is standing not too far behind her, chatting with her parents, accepting congratulations for his winning season. I don't even roll my eyes. Let him have it.
Aniyah glowers at me, cutting her eyes over to the dean and then back at me. Again, I can't even be bothered to care about her little threat. Tell him, I dare you. Because he's going to find out, anyway.
I've already decided what needs to be done. Because I love him, I'll give up everything I have to make sure he doesn't have to feel the boot of a shitty world holding him down more than ever before. I took care of Tim Worth and his shithead nephew, so that even if they see my name in the news, they can't threaten Jack ever again. Jack obviously hasn't been in contact with anyone back home very recently, or been on social media even, because Randall Worth, former quarterback and nephew of Coach Tim Worth, was arrested for multiple counts of rape and sexual abuse. It seems an anonymous private investigator provided the police with insurmountable proof that the reprobate had a long history of drugging girls that came to his parties. Tim Worth was likewise arrested after it was uncovered that he helped cover up his nephew's indiscretions, including the attempted assault of his own daughter. Millie Worth is now on her way to New York City to continue her education at Columbia Law School.
Now the only loose end to tie up is the other college football coach that underestimated and took advantage of him. And he'll be getting his due as soon as we arrive home in Texas. There will be no delay, because I'll be damned if that sham of a wedding is going to happen.
But that's tomorrow's problem. Today is about Jack's success.
After giving a few of my own interviews, I spend a few minutes talking to the NFL scouts that came to watch the game. They're all foaming at the mouth to get Jack on their teams, but I want to make sure they have his best interests in mind, as well as their own. One of the scouts, the one that I think will report back to the exact right team for Jack, seems to be very understanding of my concerns and is taking everything I've discussed regarding the type of contract that would be right for Jack, into consideration. There are things, like injury clauses, that many rookie players overlook. It's easy to only see dollar signs when you come from poverty. I know from experience.
Jack walks by me, cutting his eyes at me with a pointed gaze, before making a beeline to the stadium tunnel. After he's a good ten feet past me, I excuse myself to go change my sticky shirt.
The dean tries to get my attention, looking none too pleased to see me discussing Jack's future with the NFL scouts. I tell him we have much to talk about when we return to campus and jog off the field.
Jack walked through here a good three minutes before I could make it, since I kept getting interrupted on my way. I'm not exactly sure where he would have gone. I'm ninety-nine percent sure that he was giving me a signal to follow him, but maybe I was wrong. If he was, he wouldn't be in the locker room or the showers, because there are other players and staff in there. I walk down the blue carpeted hallways, past the locker room and gym facility, which is locked. There are a few conference rooms, but I can see through the clear glass walls that he isn't in there. Maybe he was just going to the showers.
There's a sound like a whistle behind me, and a door creaks open. I don't try to hide my grin when I walk into a random office and the door closes behind me.
We come together in a clash of tongues and lips.
"You were fucking amazing," I tell him between kisses. His lips and face are sticky sweet with the sports drink that was poured over our heads. I lick it from his lips and neck, pressing him against the wall.
"It's all because of you, Coach. It's all for you. I… I love you."
His vulnerability makes me ache from my jaw down to the erection pressing between us. I want so badly to tell him how I feel, but it would undermine everything I've set in motion to give him the future he deserves.
"I'm so fucking proud of you," I tell him, before deepening the kiss.
Less than a minute later, I've got Jack pinned to the wall with my tongue down his throat and my hand fumbling with the ties to his football pants. All I want to do right now is swallow him down.
The door opens with a crash, and in walks the dean, Tuck Sanders, and three other people whose faces I don't process. Behind them, I see Aniyah Wilcox standing out in the hallway with her arms folded.
CHAPTER 37
JACK
"Mr. Perry?" The woman, who happens to be the same school counselor that lives next to Bryant, gets my attention again.
"I'm sorry," I say, shaking myself to attention. I've barely slept in three days. "What was the question?"
