I know she’s right, but my best friend heard the same rumors about Tatum today too and confronted me about sleeping with him. I don’t know who’s spreading the rumors, but I’m sick of them.
Coach Trevino and I barely have a friendship let alone anything remotely romantic or sexual. But I can’t lie and say I haven’t thought about it…not in a serious way, but when you spend this much time with someone who looks like him, it’s no surprise the thought crossed my mind.
But thinking about it still doesn’t mean it was ever even in the realm of possibility.
“Hurry up, girls. Warm up and start stretching. Coach Trevino is running a little late which means we’re going to start without him.”
I lead the team in a few quick laps around the field before we circle up and stretch. After all this time, it feels weird without Tatum here helping us. He’s become an integral part of the team and since I had this weekend off of training, I kind of miss him.
“Ladies, pair up and work on some one-on-one drills.” I link arms with Morgan and we face up. One of us is on offense, mainly working on foot skills with the defender who tries to take the ball. A few minutes into the drill, Tatum strolls up to practice. He looks like hell.
“I’m a little surprised he showed,” Morgan tells me. Truth be told, so am I.
He looks like he just rolled out of bed. His clothes are wrinkled and I can see the bags under his eyes from across the field.
He and Paxton exchange a few words before our head coach blows the whistle and we all run in.
“Line up. You’re going to run the cross-country path and I’m going to time you.” A few groans sound from my teammates as we line up.
“Bria, hold back a minute,” Tatum says. Sam is standing right behind me and sees the opportunity to mumble under her breath.
“Off for a quickie in the locker rooms?” I want to grab her shit-colored hair and rip it from her skull.
“Fuck you, Samantha. Enjoy your run.”
“Enjoy your romp.”
“She’s back with Ben, you idiot, so shut the fuck up already.” Morgan comes to my defense and she yelled it loud enough I think everyone back on campus even heard her. I hang my head, not exactly thankful for her involvement.
The team takes off and I hang back, walking over to Tatum. He rubs his chin with his right hand, his jaw clenched. It looks like he hasn’t shaved in a few days and I can hear his stubble scratching against his hand.
“What’s up, Coach?” Once I get close enough, I can smell stale alcohol permeating off of him. I’m not sure if it’s coming from his breath or his pores. His eyes are bloodshot and he smells almost as bad as he looks.
“I want to meet up tonight.”
I almost choke on my tongue. “What?”
“For training. Since I was away all weekend, I thought we could play catch up tonight.”
“Training right. Oookay,” I draw out the word. “I wasn’t even sure you’d be here today.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because of…everything going on.”
“I don’t know what you think you heard, but either way it’s none of your business,” he snaps.
That’s not entirely true, but I don’t point it out right now. He doesn’t seem to be in the mood for my sass today.
“Noted.” There’s a beat of awkward silence. I feel the need to fill in the quiet. “Long night?” I ask, though my stomach pinches at the thought.
“Yup.” His tone is clipped and I read between the lines, even though it turns my stomach sour.
I stretch my calves as I wait to see if he’ll say anything else. When he doesn’t, I speak up. “Do you want me to catch up with the rest of the team?”
“No, you’ll be running enough later. Cool down and head home. I’ll see you at nine.”
Fuck.
Once the team gets back to the house, Morgan comes up to our room with Lindsay following close behind.
“Where the hell did you go? I was looking for you after practice.” My roommate falls back onto her bed and Linds leans against the door jamb to our room.
“I have training tonight. Since I was off all weekend he wants to start back up right away.” I let my head fall back against the wall and a groan escapes my mouth. I’m not looking forward to tonight at all.
“How’d you get home?” As usual, Morgan drove me to practice in her SUV and I surely wasn’t going to walk home.
“I called Ben.” My face heats at my admission as if I’d done something wrong.
“So, you two are really happening, huh?”
“Can you try to be nice?” I eye my best friend but she rolls her eyes.
I look to Lindsay for support, but she shakes her head at me. “Leave me out of this. I’m with Morgan on this one. Ben’s a douche.”
“Linds, you practically forced us together at the party Saturday. This is, like, half your fault.”
“I was drunk. I can’t be held accountable for my actions.” I throw my pillow at her.
“Screw you guys. It’s not like we’re getting married. We’re just…hanging out.” They both open their mouths to protest, but I hold up my hands. “I’m done discussing this with you. In two months when he screws me over, you can come yelling ‘I told you so’ and I won’t even be mad about it. Deal?”
“Deal,” they say in unison.
Sam gives me a death stare as I head out the door for practice. She always seems like she has an agenda and being around her makes me uneasy. I make a mental note to keep my distance from her and to watch what I say when she’s around.
I pull up to the field and I have ten minutes to spare. Coach will be proud that I showed up early—or he’ll take the extra time to torture me longer.
I notice the sole other car in the parking lot and assume it’s his. The field is lit, but it’s empty. I glance with dread toward the track and spot him, but not where I was expecting. He’s running laps. I’m not sure if he’s warming up or working through whatever shit he’s dealing with, but I won’t complain.
I can see the muscles working in his legs as he runs. His thighs are two boulders and the definition of his calves could cut steel.
My gaze moves upwards and I realize washboards got nothing on him. His abs are tight and I can count six of them from my car. His tanned skin glistens in the moonlight with a layer of sweat. As he comes back around the corner turn, I notice his Adonis belt like an arrow pointing down into his shorts.
For a second, I want to follow the deep V, for it to lead me under the waistband of his shorts and to explore what’s waiting there.
But I shake the thought away immediately.
I hop out of my car and walk over to the track, trying to be quiet to not disrupt his stride. Also, for selfish reasons, because he’s beautiful in his run and the power emanating from him is intoxicating.
As I get closer, I take notice of his ink-covered arm and the intricacies of the design. Around his elbow is a web, like the net of a goal. The top of his shoulder has a large lion and further down, on the outside of his forearm looks like an angel.
I want to trace every line and learn the meaning behind every image. I want to see all the ones I’m missing and learn their origin. I’m hoping there’s more to their story than being bored and liking the look of them.