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Nathan
I’m whipping my players into shape, growing more and more confident that they won’t embarrass me during our first game together tomorrow. I’ve been keeping up my no-nonsense demeanor so none of them get too chummy with me. I’m not going to be here long so there’s no use letting them get attached. No chance of that anyway, especially not with my star player, Maya. I still can’t seem to keep my eyes off of her, even after a few weeks of grueling practices. She just takes whatever I dish out. I’d say without complaint, but she and the others do plenty of that. But with Maya, the dirty looks and sass just inflame me.
“Hopefully, you lot won’t make a mockery of my good name tomorrow,” I tell them after practice.
“I don’t think we can put a dent in your good name, Coach Browers,” Maya says.
With the way her voice drips with sarcasm, it’s clear she’s filled herself in on the exploits that got me here. For the first time, I feel a bit ashamed of myself. This sour-faced beauty scowling at me while dripping in sweat from the paces I put her through can’t be tweaking my conscience, can she? The others giggle nervously.
“I’m going to lose my patience and start calling you rude names,” I bellow. “Get lost, get some good sleep, and don’t be late tomorrow.”
“Wait, you haven’t been calling us rude names all this time?” Maya asks as the others drift toward the locker room. They pause to hear my answer.
I’m honestly stunned, because I’ve been holding back out of chivalry. If they were men, they’d be underground from all the abuse I’d heap on them. This is nothing compared to that. “Wait, you mean sea cows? That’s your own chosen name, you daft sea cow.”
The other players crack up, but Maya goes redder than her hair, pursing her plump lips. “Seahorses, youdaftjerk.Horses, not cows.”
“Well, bloody hell. I forgot.”
“He said he’d call us Seahorses if we win, Maya,” Laura, our goalie, reminds us both.
“Ah, that’s right. There’s a lot on the line, so why are you still hanging around annoying the shit out of me? Practice is over, ladies.”
Most of them are still laughing as they scamper away, but Maya stomps off, throwing one last murderous look my way. I give her a salute in return, and she spins around with a huff while I watch her ass sway in those heinous leggings.
Damn, she’s gorgeous.
After I clear away the equipment, I find a message on my phone informing me that the head of the sports department wants to see me in his office. I get a sinking feeling. I’m used to being in trouble, but I’ve been exemplary since I started coaching here. I’ve been staying in my apartment, I turned down the advances of a very forward biology teacher, and I haven’t so much as flirted with any of my players, so what could he possibly want? Sure, some of my thoughts about Maya haven’t been exactly pure, but he can’t read my mind.
I haven’t seen him since he hired me, and when he motions for me to have a seat in his office, I see my gut-feeling was right. I’m in trouble.
“Try and go a little easier on the girls,” he says straight off. I haven’t even settled into the chair yet.
“Don’t you want a winning team?” I ask.
He shakes his head and sighs. “Just be a little nicer to them. We’ve had a few complaints.”
I’m outraged. Who snitched on me? And for what? Rough practices? If they didn’t want to play college-level sports, they should have quit in high school. If any of them haveanydreams of going pro, they’re in for a rude awakening. “Is this about me calling them cows?”
His eyebrows shoot up. “Dear lord, are you calling them names? Did you read the code of conduct at all? Listen, I’m sure you’re doing a fine job, but maybe stop that. And take them out for pizza or something after a game.”
I agree without argument, dismissing my pride in favor of keeping my job. That said, I won’t take them out for anything if they lose tomorrow. A losing team doesn’t deserve pizza.
My wallet begins to rue my promise the next day. They not only win, but they utterly destroy the other team. I can’t stay bitter about it, however; their happy cheers warm my dark heart. They rush off the field, hugging and high-fiving each other, and drag me into celebrations. Maya gets shoved into me, and she’s so excited that she forgets she hates me for a moment and throws her arms around my neck. I whoop and twirl her around, the feeling of her lush curves against my body threatening to make me rock hard. In an instant, I plop her down and step out of the fray.
“We need to calm down. We’re being poor sports,” Sherry Lynn says.
“Bugger that,” I tell them. “You demolished them, fair and square.”
As soon as they’re done shaking hands with the other team, I blurt out that I’m taking them to dinner to celebrate. A new round of cheers erupts, and we cram into several cars to head for the nearest pizza place.
I order six pizzas and three pitchers of beer before sitting down in the middle seat they kept open for me at the big table they got. I catch Maya’s eye, and she blushes at my grin. Winning brings even the worst enemies together.
“My glorious, gorgeous Seahorses,” I say. “Congratu-fuckin-lations. You’ve earned the name and my respect as well.” Pitchers of beer arrive, and I tell them all to drink up. “You’ve earned it.” Instead of pouring for themselves, they all sit there, staring at me blankly. “Do I need to pour for you? Fine.”
“Coach, the drinking age here is twenty-one, not eighteen,” Desi says. “Only a few of us can legally drink.”
“Well, that’s a damn shame,” I say. How do they live with that sort of limit? “Okay, you’re on the honor system then.”
