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CHAPTER 6
Magik
“Coach, you have a minute?”
My teammates eye the man we all look up to, on and off the field, waiting for his response. “What is it, Magik?”
His question is so pained, I’m surprised it didn’t come with an eye-roll. Kennedy, our star wide receiver snickers at Coach Weston’s response on his way to the showers. “Good luck, man,” he offers me with a fist bump to my shoulder.
He’s not a huge fan of me right now. Not off the field, anyway.
When he and Elaine arrived home early from their weekend away to find me shirtless, cooking breakfast in their kitchen, I had a lot to answer for.
Paris and her mother saved the day with their quick thinking. Elaine skipped through the kitchen to find Paris in the shower and had her pretend she’d come down with a bad case of the flu and needed someone to care for her.
Elaine had sent an SOS text message alerting us of their early arrival, however we’d been too wrapped up in exploring our sexual appetites in a freedom we weren’t accustomed to and missed the message.
The locker room is not the place for this conversation. I slip out of my training gear and wrap a towel around my waist. “Can I swing by your office after a shower?”
Coach removes his cap and rubs his hand over his balding head. “Magik, son.” A heavy breath escapes him as he addresses me with a pointed look. “This better be game-related.”
“Magik’s all about the game these days, Coach.” Lucas, our linebacker, chuckles, causing the rest of the guys lingering about to join in. Everyone except the rookie, because he knows better than to get on my off side.
“Fuck off, all of ya,” I scowl.
Annoyed by the comment, Coach gives in. Probably so he can get the hell out of here. “You got five minutes, son.” He huffs and walks out shaking his head.
I ignore the glances from the others as I race to the showers before I face Coach head-on and do something I never dreamed of doing.
The door to his office is closed when I arrive with twelve seconds to spare, my short hair still dripping wet as I pull my shirt over my head. “Come in,” he says on the first knock, and I suck in a breath of courage before I enter.
Coach is sitting behind his desk, game tapes running on the screens across the room. He points at the vacant chair, silently directing me to take a seat. Nerves creep in when I sink into the chair and come face to face with him, knowing what I’m about to ask.
“This has nothing to do with the game, does it?” His dry tone makes me gulp, wishing I had a water bottle with me.
“How can you tell?”
“Reading people is my job, and if you were here to discuss your God-given talents as our star Quarterback, you wouldn’t be all twisted up with nerves.”
Fuck. Great start, Magik.
He pushes back in his seat and rests his hands across his growing mid-section. Twenty years ago, Weston was one of the most talked-about NFL players that came from Ohio State University. Now he’s the coach every wannabe player flocks to OSU for a chance to play under.
And he’s never been a man to fuck with. Much less a man willing to give up his daughter who he deems unable to make a decision for herself at the age of nineteen. But I respect Paris, and at the end of the day, her father owns me, and my childhood dream is in his hands.
“Right. I may as well get straight to the point then.” I stare him down, mustering every ounce of confidence I have in my two-hundred-and-twenty pounds of muscle. “I’ve known you and your family for four years and let’s face it, you’re all more of a family to me than my own deadbeat dad and runaway mom ever could have been.”
A hint of a smirk crosses his face, his fingers tap on his midsection which only makes my nerves grow. “Thank you, son. You will always be family to us.”
I nod and clear my throat. “The thing is, Paris is…”
“Let me stop you right there. As a part of our family dynamic, Paris should be nothing more than your little sister.”
His words are heavy, laden with warning and his piercing eyes make it difficult to look away. Bile threatens to make its way up my throat as I picture Paris as a sister figure. Four years ago, yes.
Now? Hell no.
She’s grown into her curves, her breasts are definitely too full and perky to be considered sister status, and her sassy, take no shit attitude makes my cock rock hard.
