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I narrowed my eyes but never looked at him. I was past caring that it was a good call. It still felt personal. In my head, I knew that sounded asinine, but in my pants, it made sense. My dick was offended.
When the whistle finally blew for half time, I let my team jog ahead of me and I lingered on the field. I wanted to be last, I wanted to walk in close enough to Charleigh so I could lean into her again and leave her in a wake of threats that would make her think twice the next time she pulled the flag from her belt.
Was that right? No.
Was I insane? Possibly.
I started to jog behind her, keeping a little distance until we were in the corridor and away from cameras. After helping her from the field the week before, I knew I needed to be careful so rumors didn’t start flying.
I was all set to close the distance just as she was stopped by Richard. He leaned in, too fucking close to her ear, said something quickly, and then walked away.
Charleigh remained frozen, his words clearly rattling her. Richard hadn’t seen me, but I was tempted to follow him and demand he tell me what was said. Instead, I followed Charleigh once she started moving again.
Looking at my watch, I knew I had thirteen minutes until the game started back up and instead of spending it with my team, like I should have been, I was going to spend it with her. I wanted to know what Richard said, I still wanted to give her my own warning, and I wanted to settle my unreasonable animosity so that I could have a good season moving forward.
Unfortunately, none of that happened.
Chapter15
Charleigh
Mr. Elder’s words chilled me, causing me to freeze for an abnormal amount of time. Up until that moment, Richard Elder had been nothing but nice to me. He was so accommodating and supportive, excited the Jets had the means to host me as part of the officiating crew.
Once he was long gone, I was able to keep walking to my locker room. I needed what time was left to regain my composure. I knew I had that last call right, the defensive guy for the Jets had his arms around the receiver’s waist before the ball was even thrown. Had I not made that call, I would have been back on the sports channel being ripped apart for a “no call.’
I didn’t mind that part of the job. I didn’t mind getting it wrong or right. But the stress seemed to be mounting by the second. I was on the verge of hyperventilating, pacing my room and worrying about what the fuck I had gotten myself into.
After taking a sip of water and turning back toward the door, I was rattled as Coach Peyton was barreling into my room once again. That time, instead of pushing me into the wall, he leaned against the closed door and crossed his arms.
“What the fuck was that about?” he asked with his voice deep and menacing.
“You know as well as I do your guy had the wide receiver wrapped up too early.”
“Not that!” He yelled. “What did Richard say to you?”
I leaned back and looked at him like he had three heads. I had a hard time believing that he didn’t know what his boss said to me. That he was the one that told Mr. Elder what to say, making this fight between us lopsided. “You know damn well what he said!”
“If I knew,” he gritted out, “I wouldn’t have asked.”
“I'm not going to be bullied,Brett. I know after you realized you slept with the new ref that you had an opportunity to strong arm me, but you can’t. I would rather tell the world about New York than be forced to call an unfair game.”
Now he was looking at me as if I had slapped him. Somewhere deep in my gut, I knew he had no idea what I was talking about. He looked up to the TV, then down to my couch. I could see the wheels in his head spinning and he was only making me more and more nervous.
“Please leave,” I croaked, my voice breaking as I strained to keep my composure.
“You need to calm down, you’re too fucked up to go back out there and make good calls.”
“That call I made was good!” I repeated.
“You’re right, it was. And the calls you make in the second half will be even better.”
“I am sick of the threats, Levi. You are not going to control me. I am not your puppet—” before I could finish, I was against the wall, his mouth on mine and his arms lifting me higher. He wrapped my legs around his waist and pushed into my core, his cock so hard I moaned from the pain.
“Calm the fuck down,” he repeated. “All eyes are going to be on you, and you have to be cool.” His words were spoken against my mouth and then he moved his lips to my neck. He bit and sucked, just enough to give me pleasure but not enough to leave any marks.
“What—?” I wanted to ask what the fuck he was doing. But I was in so much need for him that I couldn’t find the words—or the will to care.
“I know how to calm you down. I know all the right spots,Apple.” He used my fake New York name to remind me how right he was. “For both our sakes, let me in and let’s make it all go away.”
