Page 59 of The Cheerleader is Off Limits

The last thing I need is to lose focus because I can’t keep my eyes off one of the cheerleaders.

I think about how terrible that could be misconstrued if I’m caught looking at Sloane, and it seems as if I’m looking at someone else.

Like someone who is not eighteen.

My stomach turns, and I like the message before closing the app and tossing it to the side.

That’s enough. Now ignore it.

Ignore her.

That was the only way to get through this.

CHAPTER 14

RIVER

I’m always a little bit nervous before a game, and add in it being the first game of the season and this underlying tension coursing through me over Sloane being less than thirty feet away in a very short, tight cheerleading uniform, and I'm way more on edge than usual. Thankfully, it was a blowout, which is always ideal for the first win of the season. It boosts morale, builds excitement, and shows the school and the community what to expect for the rest of the season. The guys were on fire.It’s still soon, but if we keep playing like this, there’s a really good chance we will be back in the championship again this year.

I caught a glimpse of Sloane a few times. Dressed in a blue-and-white uniform with a curled ponytail piled high on her head tied together with a blue bow, all while smiling and waving her pom-poms while cheering us on. She looked so gorgeous, and I hated how much that thought turned me on. That for the first time ever, a Westlake High School cheerleader turned me on.

Fuck.

Why couldn’t she be a college cheerleader so I didn’t feel like such a creep for appreciating her in her uniform?

And I really fucking did.

A brief flash of fucking her in it washes over me, and the urge to wrap my hands around my dick to fuck my fist the second I get home hits me hard.

No,I tell myself.

I mean, it’s not like it’s breaking any rules.My mind attempts to rationalize.

After debriefing with the team and briefly celebrating our win, a few of them still linger in the locker room talking when I hear Sloane’s name from my coaching office. They’re all talking at once, so I can’t make out exactly what’s being said, but I manage to hear “hot,” “ask her out,” and something about wanting to see her cheer uniform on the floor of someone’s bedroom.

I already wasn’t one to allow that kind of talk in my locker room, and they know better, especially after they hadn’t realized that Margot, who is a cheerleader at a rival high school, is my niece and had some choice things to say about her during an away game last year.

I reamed everyone out and benched two of our starters for the start of the second half, but my assistant coach talked me out of punishing the whole team for their words because we were losing and needed those starters back.

I let them play the rest of the game, but I had them run five miles at the start of practice for a week and end practice with so many burpees I lost count.

Needless to say, everyone got the hint from then on regarding appropriate locker room talk.

That was understandable. Sloane is not your niece.

Do not explode.

Count to ten.

I’m barely to seven before I’m out of my office and back in the locker room, staring down the five players who are still changing and packing up their stuff into their equipment bags.

“WHAT did I say about that kind of talk in here?” I growl as I glare at all of them.

“Shit, Coach, we… thought you left,” one of them immediately says, and I can see the guilt written all over their faces.

“That makes no difference. I said keep that out of here, and I meant it, whether I am nearby or not.” I am trying my best to keep the anger out of my voice, but it’s there.

“Coach, we didn’t even say anything bad. Just that the girls look great this year.” Jax, a junior wide receiver who is already being heavily scouted, speaks up.