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Sidelined 4
Eric
I drop to the leg press before Addy can see the effect she has on me. She probably already knows, if that breathy little inhale of hers is any indication, but it feels easier to pretend I’m oblivious. Just like it feels easier to act like I’m engrossed in my workout while she walks away.
Holy fuck. I rub at the ache in my chest, the one I feel every time we part ways. I almost kissed her, and the irony is I’m kind of pissed that I didn’t.
For nearly three years, I’ve fantasized about holding her the way I just did, which is why I’ve been so careful not to put myself in a situation where I’d get that chance. I should’ve walked away the second I realized she was here, but even though I’m uber careful not to be alone with her, I can’t bring myself to pass up an opportunity that falls in my lap. There’s nothing I like more than catching a glimpse of Addy’s competitive spirit, her infectious smile. That’s why I’ve been letting her beat me at poker all these years.
Thank God we only play for small change, or I’d have gone broke long ago. Well, I would’ve if it weren’t for the name, image and license (NIL) decision that just went in my favor. Now that college athletes can get paid for their likeness, I’m making a pretty penny. Part of that is because my older brother turned pro a few years ago, and expectations for me are similarly high. The other is because I’m the top receiver on the team. Or I was until this injury.
The money is a welcome addition, especially since I now realize how fleeting a career in football can be. One injury could end it, and if that is the case the NIL ruling means I’ll at least have a cushion if the worst happens. It also means the women I pretend to be interested in smell a sugar daddy, which is a big part of why I didn’t want to go to that cheerleader party.
The petite blonde ruse I perpetuated for the past few years had the benefit of giving me a much-needed release from time to time, but those were diversions, for myself and my partners. Now that I have a net worth next to my name, the atmosphere has changed, meaning women want more from me than a good time. That makes it really hard to feign interest when both my body and mind want Addy.
I hear her soft little grunt from across the room as she squats under the Smith machine and turn my head to watch. She’s so determined. So focused. Sponsors should be chasing her down for that instead of the way she looks. Although I understand why they want her for things that have nothing to do with her drive. She’s stunning, with a captivating face and a tight athlete’s body. Even from here I can see how round her ass is in those tiny little workout shorts. And don’t get me started on the curve of her breasts in that sports bra.
Fuck. I’m never going to be able to get up from this machine. Who am I kidding? I can’t focus on a workout when she’s in here with me. Might as well call it a night.
“Done already?” she asks as I grab a bag of ice from the cooler and head to the training table. Although it’s for my knee, I’m hoping it will cool other parts of me off as well.
“I only wanted to get the blood flowing, not do a full workout.” I couldn’t have picked a worse choice of words. Addy’s gaze drops to my crotch, which is still bigger than I’d prefer it to be when trapped alone in a room with my best friend’s sister.
I hop on one of the padded training tables and prop the bag of ice on my knee.
“If I wasn’t invading your space, would you stay?” Her voice is so soft I can barely hear it from across the room.
I don’t know how to answer that, so I stay silent.
“Thought so. I’ll take off. I don’t want to be the reason you aren’t ready to play.”
“I don’t want to be the reason you don’t make the national team,” I echo in response.
“It’s a long shot anyway.” She tosses her towel in the laundry bin as she heads to the door.
Dammit, now I’m the one making her uncomfortable. “Don’t say that. You have just as much chance to go pro as I do, and mine’s pretty good.” She’s supposed to laugh at that, but she doesn’t. I guess I can’t blame her. I’ve gone out of my way not to joke around with her over the years. Playing nice now will probably make her think I’m concussed.
“You don’t have to give me a pep talk.”
“I’m not. It’s the truth.”
“How can you say that? You’ve never even seen me play.” She grabs her track jacket off the hook by the door and starts to swing it on.
“In person, no. And Coach has heard Alex bitch about that more times than I can count for not letting him skip practice to watch you. But he does it anyway. We all do.”
Addy freezes with only one arm in her coat. “What do you mean?”
Alex might kill me for this, but there’s no way I’m going to let Addy think she isn’t good enough for the national squad. “You know those team dinners we have every week during the season?” She nods. “We order pizza and watch your soccer games.”
“Alex said you watch film at those dinners.” She stares at me in disbelief, eyes blinking so fast it’s a wonder she can see me.
“We do.” I swallow. “Yours. Alex said you’d be embarrassed if you knew, so we’re sworn to secrecy, but we see all your games. Every one, for the last three years.”
“Why are you telling me this?” Her jacket falls to the floor.
“Because you’re doubting that you’re good enough to compete at the highest level, and I know for a fact you are.”
She takes a tentative step forward. “What facts do you know about soccer?”
