Wow. We’d only been working together a couple months, and he’d made so much progress. His natural slimness would never lend itself to big muscles, but his pecs were defined and nicely shaped. His formerly soft belly had hints of a six-pack from all the crunches I’d made him do. You couldn’t say I hadn’t made an impression on him. Hell, I’d given him his first blow job. Oxford-man could never take that away.
Sean glanced around and turned toward the lockers to slide off his jeans.
I tried so hard to keep my eyes to myself, but holy freaking hell, he dropped trou to reveal two perfect, bubbly, adorable, and absolutely bare ass cheeks framed by his jock. All that creamy white skin and a few interestingly placed freckles. Shit. I could feel my cock bounce. Look away. Look away. Couldn’t do it. He couldn’t see me, turned away like he was, so I stared so long without blinking, my eyeballs should have bled.
By the time he covered that perfect picture with his tights and shorts, I had a raging semi that was only not full wood because of massive deep breaths.
I smiled when he tied on his Nike cleats. He came off so cute and official. And, man, did his red hair look great with the blue-and-gold uniform. But as soon as he was dressed, he walked over and said something to Tray who nodded but frowned, and then Sean left the locker room.
A couple guys watched him go, looking worried. Tray raised his voice. “Sean’s got family here, so he’s going to talk to them. He’ll meet us in the tunnel.”
Rex snarked, “Somebody wants to see the Poin play? Damned gluttons for punishment.”
I wanted to defend Sean, but all I could think of was him out there talking to PhD Jeremiah. The guy would see how great Sean looked in his gear and be all swept away. Yeah, I’d like to sweep Oxford away—with a fucking streetsweeper.
I took a breath. Interesting. Maybe I’d gotten some of my fight back. I might be too “nice a guy” to be a mean middle linebacker in the NFL, but I’d fought for myself since I was little. I’d fought to learn in school when nobody expected me to be able to, I’d fought against the kids who called me loser for not having a mother, and I’d fought my father and the whole town to get to college and not give in to their low expectations of me. It sure felt a helluva lot better to fight than wimp out like squashed dog poop. Hell. If I was poop, then I wanted to get on everybody’s shoes, so they had to track me all over their fucking carpets.
I snorted. That’s what I’d call a crappy metaphor.
Ah, shit.
I might be laughing at myself, but as we gathered in the middle of the floor for a group cheer, some of my nausea was gone. Now my gut felt as tight as my jaw.
“Go ALA!”
Fucking right!
As we trooped down the hall and into the tunnel that led to the field, Sean stepped in line and jogged with us. I scooted between two other guys to get beside him and reached out a fist toward Sean. “Hey, man, you got this. Good luck.”
His expression didn’t change. It was that serious Sean look that always meant he was thinking about ten times more than you were, but he reached out and bumped my fist with his. Even that much sent a tingle through me, and I thought, from the way he blinked, him too. But then we were on the field.
Sean’s eyes widened. Yeah, it was a lot. The big stadium had been set up with two flag fields. The stands weren’t full—this wasn’t the championship—but there were still an assload of people there. Way more than Sean had seen at a game up until then.
We gathered in the middle of the field. Since the ALA team was top rated, we were given the advantage of playing against the eighth ranked and presumably the worst team in this first matchup. They were from Menominee. The referee explained the rules, and Tray and the Menominee captain both did their longest throw to determine who got first pick of throwing or receiving. Tray won and chose to throw off.
He started off with a short throw to Jesse at wide receiver. Jesse didn’t play in our flag games regularly since he was on the Badgers first string, which took tons of time. Plus, now he was doing Quiz Bowl. But hell, it was amazing to have him on the team today. The guy was a star running back, after all. Jesse picked up the short throw and took off like a rabbit. He got well past the midfield before somebody grabbed his flag. First down. The section of ALA fans cheered.
Truthfully, Menominee had some decent players, but they weren’t up to our standard when we were on, and Tray and Jesse were such a well-oiled machine that they barely needed the rest of the team. That was good for me since I had trouble taking my eyes off Sean in his uniform. He played okay. In fact, he seemed very focused, although none of us were much needed by the Tray/Jesse machine.
We made it to the last six minutes of the game with the score closer than it should have been, but everyone had started cruising a while back since we were saving our energy for the bigger competition to come. Then the other quarterback did a long throw, Rex tried to intercept and missed, and it landed right in the hands of the opposing receiver. That guy started running, and it was like our defense couldn’t get out of first gear. DeWan ended up on his face after making a wild leap for the flag, and the dude sailed into the end zone.
Tray stood behind me and wailed, “Holy shit, we’re tied.”
Well, damn.
Tray called a time-out, and we huddled around. Standing with his hands on his hips, he shook his head back and forth like he couldn’t believe it. “We deserved this. We got overconfident, and we’re playing like ass. Rancid ass. If we end up not going to the finals, it’s our own damned fault.” He blew out air like he was spitting. “Jesse, man, we need you in a big way. And Bubba, focus and kick some ass.”
I nodded, determined to do whatever it took for my team. On their own, my eyes found Sean. He was staring right at me. I gave him a smile, and wonder of wonders, he returned it and more.
You’re great, and you can do this. I believe in you, his eyes said.
I blinked and tried to silently tell him the same. You’ve got this, Sean. I know because I trained you myself, and I’ve seen you do it.
And, for the first time in a while, I could breathe.
We all dispersed back to starting lineup for the throw off. DeWan at center hiked the ball, Tray went back for a throw, and I held my breath. The second the ball left his hand, Jesse started to run. Tray was a good thrower, though I’d seen him wilt under pressure. Jesse’s beautiful, fluid run put him right where the ball would have been if Tray was on, but it sailed over his head.
I looked past Jesse and actually gasped. Sean was running and staring up with intense focus. Then that little dude reached up and snagged that ball out of the air like some hawk grabbing an unsuspecting pigeon.
Visions of that first day I’d met Sean flashed in my head, but no way. He took off toward the right goal line, running fast. The defenders had obviously pretty much written the little guy off, so they were caught flat-footed.
My heart almost exploded as Sean raced down the field and leaped across the goal line. For a second, it was like the whole field stood suspended. Even Sean didn’t seem to be able to get what he’d done. And then the buzzer signaled the end of the game. ALA had won thanks to one adorable Poin named Sean McKinney.
Tray whooped, and the other guys joined in. Jesse got to Sean first and hoisted him in the air. Sean looked stunned, but he was still grinning. All the guys gave him pats and high-fives, and a few even came over and told me what a good job I did training him.