AllFreeNovel
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“See this? This is that puck.” He puts it on the tee in front of him and grips his club tight. “That puck that I didn’t stop.” He lines up his shot. “The one that got in, right in-between the post and my glove.”
He swings back and hits the ball perfectly sending it sailing into the air. I can’t even see where it lands.
He holds up another ball after shaking himself out.
“This one, this one is that freshman that slid his pad right into the side of my knee. Twisting my fucking leg back.” He lines up again and takes another shot sending the ball out even further.
With each swing his shoulders and the tension they’ve been holding relax just a little bit more.
Not going to lie. It’s fucking hot watching him flex and swing the club like that. I’m mesmerized by all the anger he’s letting go with each swing.
“Ready? Your turn.” Nick motions to the spot next to where he was swinging.
I nervously take the ball from him, putting it on the tee and step up.
Nick shows me proper hand placement, and how to stand.
“Like this?” I ask, trying to mimic his stance.
He shakes his head laughing, before coming behind me and wrapping his arms around mine. I involuntarily suck in a deep breath.
He moves my legs and hips slightly until I’m in a good position. Then he stills. Nick stays against me a second too long. His face hovering over my shoulder. His hands grip my hips tighter.
“What’s next?” I ask, looking up at him.
Yup, he’s looking down my shirt.
“Sorry.” He clears his throat, and his grip loosens. “Pull back like this, and then follow through.”
He shows me how to swing and then stands back.
I take a swing and completely miss the ball.
Nick stands with his hand to his mouth trying not to laugh.
I breathe out a frustrated sigh. I’m not very well coordinated, and didn’t take to sports much, but really? How hard could it be to hit a ball just sitting there?
“It wasn’t bad! Come on, try again!” Nick encourages, watching me line up again. “That ball is, what's her name?”
“Marie,” I grumble.
“There it is. It’s Marie, and she’s a sophomore taking your spot. It should be you covering our game!” Nick yells, encouraging me to get angry.
I reach back taking a swing with all the power I can muster. I feel the pop of the club hitting the ball, and as I follow through the club swings right out of my grip.
I freeze, watching it sail over the ledge and onto the ground.
“I’ll get it,” Nick says, and runs down to retrieve my club.
The heat is rising in my face.
I am mortified, and done.
I’m done.
I can just sit back and watch him the rest of the time. I don’t mind. I’ll just sit quietly until he forgets I’m here. The fly on the wall.
To my surprise, Nick comes back and hands the club to me.
