Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 140523 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 703(@200wpm)___ 562(@250wpm)___ 468(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140523 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 703(@200wpm)___ 562(@250wpm)___ 468(@300wpm)
I remember Vicky screaming at us to stop. I also vaguely remember Maxwell trying to give me explanations. I must have skipped minutes in between because the next thing I knew JP and Benjamin—our right guard—were hauling me off of Kyle.
Breathing with difficulty, I tried my best to throw them off, but they weren’t budging. “It’s okay. It’s okay and done with. Settle down!” JP shouted in my face as he held my head in his hands and tried to catch my eyes. Benji, a mountain of a man and another one of my close friends, was holding my arms at my back as he tried to shuffle us out of the room. Even if I could have gotten JP out of the way, there was no way I could shake Benji. JP was still pushing on my shoulders to stop me from going after Kyle. “We’re just gonna get some air, okay, Dylan? Take it easy, man. It’s not worth risking your future. Keep it locked down.”
Before they could pull me out, I glanced around the room. Maxwell was holding his bloody nose but otherwise was fine from what I could see. At some point, he must have put his dick back into his pants after pulling it out of Victoria’s mouth, but the buttons of his jeans were hanging open, and he was still shirtless. Kyle…Kyle was naked and squirming on the ground, the room now filled with a different kind of a moaning.
Victoria, my loving girlfriend…she was still kneeling on the bed, eyes big and scared, chest heaving as she clutched a jersey to her body to cover herself. Number twelve—she was holding my number…my jersey. She was letting them fuck her while wearing my number.
Our eyes met, and I watched her lips form my name. When she made a move to get down from the bed, I stopped trying to get to Kyle and stopped fighting my friends, who finally let me shrug them off. I strode out of the room and the house without a second glance.
* * *
“Coach, I know what you’re gonna say, and it isn’t necessary. I’m doing fine.”
“Get inside and sit your ass down.”
I did as he asked.
“Cut the crap. From what I’m seeing on the field, you’re nowhere near fine, let alone your usual self. I gave you one week and nothing changed. You’re out of time. Now, you’ll do what I tell you to do and stop acting like her pussy was the last one on earth. Look around for God’s sake—you’ve got plenty of replacements waiting on the sidelines if that’s what you’re after.”
My hands clenched into fists as I surged up from my seat.
“You think this is about her? You think that’s why I’m having trouble focusing? She is not the one who’s affecting my game. I don’t care about that, but how can you expect me to give my all to the game when I don’t trust my teammates? They’re supposed to have my back, both on the field and off. How would—”
Coach got up from his chair, silencing me with one simple but deadly look, and came to stand in front of me.
“Okay, Dylan, let’s play this your way. Tell me what you want me to do. I already talked to the whole team. You were there—you know I don’t approve. I tell you boys all the time that if you want to make it into the big leagues, you can’t let distractions into your life. You got into it with Kyle right in the middle of the weight room and punched him in the face—again—and I gave that to you without repercussions. I can’t have my boys brawling for everyone to see. What else would you like me to do? You want me to cut them from the team just because they slept with your willing girlfriend?”
I tried to cover up my flinch, but it was no use. Tired of everything, I sat back down and rested my forearms on my knees. At the end of the day, as much as his words were hitting a raw spot, he was right—there was nothing more I could do. Neither Kyle nor Maxwell seemed to be having a hard time on the field. Yeah, they avoided me, but it didn’t seem like it was affecting their game. Maybe I was the one who wasn’t open-minded enough. Either way, not one of them—Victoria included—was worth giving up the end game. I wanted to hear my name announced on draft day. It felt like I’d been working toward that goal my whole life. At night, in bed, after a long day of workouts, practice, and meetings on top of classes, when I closed my eyes, I could see it, could feel it in my bones. I knew I was good enough, knew if I made it to the big leagues, I’d work my ass off even harder. I’d put in the time, the sweat, the work. It was time to move on. I heard Coach let out a long sigh and focused on him.