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Please tell me I don’t look like I had a date with Elmer’s Glue.
BLAIR
“Ahem.”
It’s too early.
“Ahem.”
I don’t care if it’s Beau or Colt.
“Ahem.”
I’m not cracking my eyelids for either because they cracked me open last night. My kitty sends her thanks, but my ass is hanging the DO NOT DISTURB sign for at least a day.
Or at least… this morning.
What time is it?
And who turned on the heat lamp? Oh god, I’m sweating like a whore in church.
I shove a body off mine. I think it’s Beau’s. He’s sweating like a pig, too, and…
“Y’all are paid to leave it on the goddamn field, not the goddamn bed!”
What the fuck?
My spine shocks up, my eyelids exploding open. Unfortunately, I find my focus squarely on Coach Williams.
He’s a volcano, his red face spewing fury at the edge of our bed.
I glance right, then left, and yep, it’s our bed. Beau, Colt, and I are naked and tangled in the white sheets.
“Shit!” Colt jolts awake beside me. “Coach? What are you doing? What time is it?”
“It’s time for me to run a goddamn ball down your goddamn throat!” Coach shouts. “Dr. Gary called and said you missed your session. It’s ten in the goddamn morning. You two have milked the fucking clock and all my goddamn patience.”
Goddamn. How many times can he say goddamn?
I reach for the bedsheet, covering my breasts, though clearly I left my modesty in Charleston.
Hell, who are we kidding? I never had it, but still, I’m trying to be a respectful ho.
Because Beau and Colt are in deep doo-doo.
“We’re sorry, Coach.” Beau sits up, tousling his hair. “We’re really sorry. I thought I set my alarm and?—”
“Oh, you’re set, alright!” Coach barks. “You’re set to ride the bench so goddamn long, your ass will go numb. And you, missy… ”
He points to me, and I fight the urge to wipe the corners of my mouth. They feel crusty. Probably because we took a shower before I let Beau and Colt finger and fondle me while they knelt over my face on the pillow, giving me a good night sip of their milk before we fell asleep.
Please tell me I don’t look like I had a date with Elmer’s Glue.
“You missy,” Coach shouts, “are outta here! Pack your bags.”
“Coach, wait!” Beau goes to jump up, buck naked, but Coach gives him the hand.
“I’ve seen enough of your helmets!”
