Page 100 of Tight Ends & Tiaras
BEN
The alarm blaresfrom the bedside table, and I groan. For some reason, getting out of bed for training camp is so much harder when I have a beautiful woman nestled against me than when I’m alone.
I kiss the top of Sienna’s head before I scoot out from under the covers.
“Hey,” she whispers. “Good luck today. Kick ass. Take names. Be a beast.”
I smile and lean over to kiss her more fully, and she wraps her arms around my neck.
“None of that,” I tease. “I’ll never get to practice if you’re too enticing.”
With a wicked grin, she slides the covers down until her pert nipples greet me. Leaning down, I take a quick lick of one. “We’ll continue this when I get home.”
She shivers. “It’s a deal. Oh, I packed you a lunch. It’s in the fridge.”
Sienna’s too fucking sweet. I don’t have the heart to tell her they’ll feed us at the stadium, but I could always use a snack. “Thanks, sunshine. Will you and Lily be okay?”
“Yup. I’m just interviewing a couple of babysitting candidates.”
Now that I understand how hard everything is with a kid in tow, I realize we should’ve skipped vacation and used that time to interview candidates. But how was I to know Janelle was gonna bail?
Just the thought of her taking off on Lily boils my blood, but I shove it down and try to get in football mode.
I’ve been dreading this day since last season ended. The thought of getting a new coach my senior year ratchets up my anxiety, but I have so much riding on this, and I have to stay calm and focused.
After one more glance at my gorgeous girlfriend, I get my ass in gear. I stop by Lily’s room before I head out. She’s sleeping soundly, her curls a riot at the top of her little head.
“Wish me luck, kid,” I whisper. “I hear Coach is a ballbuster.”
When I get to the stadium, we store our crap in the locker room and head to the main meeting room where Coach Krugman watches us with an impassive expression on his face. I don’t know why, but I have a bad feeling about this, and for the hundredth time I doubt my decision not to enter the draft last spring.
I’d been afraid of getting a career-ending injury, losing my dream of the NFL, and not having a degree to fall back on. But what if I’d done well? What if I’d kicked ass? Why the fuck did I play it safe?
It’s too late now to lament my choice, but I wish I’d gone for it.
Winston struts in and high-fives a few of his friends, but when he sees me, he itches his face with his middle finger.
Sienna told me about Destiny’s beef with Winston. Can’t say that comes as a shocker.
I make a rude gesture toward him in response.
Olly drops into the chair next to me. Under his breath, he says, “I miss Coach Sully.”
“Same.”
“What are the odds we’ll do better than last season?”
I glance at the new faces of all the incoming freshmen. At Evan Meyers, our returning quarterback, who doesn’t have half the command Rider did. At the transfers. At all the new coaching staff who rode in with Krugman. “Not good.”
We lost Rider, the Heisman winner; Tank, one of the best offensivelinemen in the country; and a handful of other outstanding players who graduated. We’re probably screwed.
The quick breakfast I had before I left the house churns in my stomach.
But as Sienna reminded me this weekend when I shared how I was feeling about the Broncos, even if the team doesn’t have a great season, I can still be a standout.
As I snap the rubber band on my wrist, I try to heed her advice and look on the bright side.
At least I have my health, not always an easy thing as a D1 athlete.
