Page 26 of Edging Coach
“Oh, I’m happy to pay?—”
“I invited myself. And I might’ve ordered a beer and a slice of cheesecake. For both of us. You’ve had a rough day.”
“Not going to argue.” The shower had only done so much. I was going to have to talk to the workout coach tomorrow. I thought I was in shape, but not up to the level Coach expected, apparently. I needed to up my game. Only I had no idea how to do that. Until now, I’d thought I could take anything. I almost hadn’t survived today. That said, Kulie actually puked. Whether from being pushed so hard or being hungover from last night, I had no idea. I was damn glad I wasn’t on his line—but Claus was.
Speaking of.
He turned to face me. “What’s going on?”
I blinked. “I’m sorry? You’re here, we’ve ordered food, and we’re going to hang out. I don’t know?—”
“Between you and Coach.”
Again, I blinked. “I don’t know?—”
“Bullshit.” He glared, his intense blue eyes boring into me in a way I’d never encountered before. At least not in a guy I was interested in dominating. I might’ve read the situation wrong, but Claus didn’t have a submissive bone in his body.
I didn’t even get the sense he was hiding anything. He wasvanilla. Nothing wrong with that. Lovely flavor. Not who I was looking for in a partner. “I have no idea?—”
“I saw you last night.”
Being ticked off at having been cut off for the millionth time tonight paled in comparison to the panic I felt. Still, I was going to brazen through it. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Last night. Coach’s SUV. Far corner of the parking lot. Away from the lights. You. Getting out. Three minutes later, Coach did. Adjusting himself. So did he not get off? Did?—”
“We were talking. We’re both new to the city, you know? And we’d had a shit awful game and?—”
“I’m not an idiot, Devon. Honest to God. What the fuck do you think you’re doing? I mean, I hope you’re notdoingthe coach. Because that’s against every fucking rule there is. If you were straight and dating a female coach, I’d be saying the same thing.” He sliced his hand through the air. “This is wrong. You’re risking your career. Because I promise you, if word gets out, you’ll get turfed. Good coaches are hard to find. D-men who can handle a puck are far more common. The Grizzlies need you more than you need to get your rocks off with Coach.”
I dropped into the desk chair. “Did anyone else…?”
He shook his head. “I don’t think so. If I hadn’t been leaving out the side door at that exact moment, I never would’ve seen either of you. I doubt anyone from the hotel could see. The rain was coming down like fucking cats and dogs—which is a super weird expression. But whatever. I’m saying you were fucking lucky I was the one who saw you. Because I’m not going to tell management. Coach is the best goddamn hope we have of climbing out of the hole we dug for ourselves. Right now? Completely out of contention. We’re the laughingstock of the League. And you’ve seen why.”
I ran my hand through my hair. “Yeah. There isn’t thecohesion I’ve seen with other teams. Certain players aren’t…team players.”
“Right. Exactly. And if one of our newest and best prospects were fucking—or being fucked by—the coach, that would screw things up royally. Don’t you think?”
A knock sounded at the door.
Claus strode over to answer it.
My head spun. The food had arrived super quick, right? Or had Claus and I been talking for a long while? Time has an odd elastic quality to it, as he placed the food on the table.
“Come eat. You need food.” He used the bottle cap remover to remove the caps from both bottles.
Since not joining him would be rude, I rose from the desk chair and headed over to the table where he sat.
The burger’s scent enticed me, even as my stomach was tied in knots. I plopped into the chair. “It’s not what you think.”
Claus speared a piece of tuna. “Oh, I don’t know. I have a very creative imagination—and I’m quite certain I know what’s going on.”
He can’t. Know everything. He’s guessing. He’s making assumptions.
Yeah, but those assumptions are mostly correct.“You can’t say anything.”
He forked a slice of avocado. “That’s a given. But something tells me last night wasn’t the first time.”
The image of slamming into Coach so hard that he hit the headboard flashed in my mind. Or when he’d gone to his knees with a strange gracefulness. How he’d offered complete submission. How, given half a chance, I’d be in his hotel room and commanding him to bend to my will.
