Page 362 of Playboy Billionaire


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“That will be fine,” I said. “I’ll see you there.”

I ended the call and took a minute t

o catch my breath, then hurried down the hall to Dru’s office to let her know that Katie Holmes was back.

Sean

Man, the coach was on my ass from the moment I walked onto the practice field. Okay, granted, I was still a little hungover from my long night of partying and felt like I was gonna puke, but I ran every route he assigned me and caught every ball.

After an hour in the hot sun, my body was drenched in alcohol sweat and every muscle ached. I plucked a bottle of Gatorade out of the ice bucket and stood on the sideline to suck it down.

“Donovan, you’re moving like a goddamn sloth out there today,” the coach snarled as he walked past me. “You need to pick up the pace or get the fuck off the field.”

“I’m catching the balls, ain’t I?” I said, wiping sweat from my face with the back of my hand.

Coach Rickets stopped in his tracks and turned around to face me. He leaned in and sniffed the air between us.

“You smell like pussy and booze,” he said. “And you look like shit.” He came close enough to poke a stiff finger into my chest. “We’re not paying you eight-million dollars a year to party your ass off at night and give a half-ass effort on the field during the day. You have until Friday to dry out and clean up your act or Lockett plays yours spot on Sunday. Am I clear?”

“Crystal,” I said, biting my tongue so hard I could taste blood. I knew better than to talk back to Rickets. I might be the star running back, but he was the coach and he decided who got to play and who stood on the sidelines. Talent is what gets you to the game, but it’s the coach that tells you when to play.

It would kill me to just watch a game and not play in it.

Rickets was a grade-A asshole, but he was right.

I was partying my career into the ground. I had to dry out and get my head back in the game before I found myself unemployed.

“How did that feel?” Leon asked as he dropped his helmet on the ground and fished out a red Gatorade.

“How did what feel?”

“Getting your ass chewed off by the coach.”

“Felt great,” I said. I tugged the drenched t-shirt over my head and mopped the sweat off my face with it.

“He’s right, you know,” Leon said. He stood next to me, but kept his eyes on the field. “You’re killing yourself, man. He’s gonna give your spot to Lockett, and when that happens, they’ll find a way to break your contract or trade you off to fucking Minnesota.”

“That’s never gonna happen,” I said, shaking my head.

Leon shrugged. “I hope you’re right. By the way, I asked Monique to marry me and she said yes.”

“That’s awesome, man,” I said, bumping him with my elbow. “I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks, man,” he said. He tilted back the Gatorade bottle and emptied it into his mouth. He tossed the bottle into the trash and picked up his helmet. As he was putting the helmet on, he nodded toward the stands behind me.

“Is that the girl from last night?” he asked. “The girl from Playboy you told me about?”

I turned around to see Katie Holmes sitting in the stands watching us. She had her red hair pulled back into a ponytail and was wearing a pair of dark sunglasses. When she saw me turn around, she held up a hand and smiled.

“Yeah, that’s her,” I said. “She’s a knockout, huh.”

“She looks good from here,” he said. He picked my helmet up from the ground and shoved it into my belly. “Come on, she’s seen your dance moves. Show her what you can do on the field.”

I took a deep breath and willed the vomit back down my throat, then tugged on my helmet and ran onto the field.

Just knowing that Katie was watching me seemed to infuse me with an energy I had not felt in a long time. Maybe I was just showing off, but I had one of the best practices of my life.

When it was over, Coach Rickets gave me an approving nod and Denzel Lockett flipped me the finger. I just smiled and trotted into the clubhouse to take a shower.

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