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“Um, yeah. Hey. Hi... Uh... I’m sorry to call if you’re in the middle of something?—”
“I’m not,” I spit out quickly. “I’m not in the middle of anything.” Well, that wasn’t exactly true. I was actually in the middle of trying to install a mount to hang my television now that the living room was clearing up, but it was proving to be more difficult than I’d initially thought. I may have gotten frustrated once or twice and threw a screwdriver across the room, but no way was I admitting that to anyone.
“What’s up?”
I listened as she blew a sigh though the line. “Well, we have a bit of a problem down at the bar.” My skin began to prickle with concern, the need to rush to my car and blow through every safe driving regulation strong as hell. “It’s not major. Just a few drunk kids making a scene, but, uh... I think they might be a couple of your boys.”
“Fuck,” I dragged out, bringing my hand up to pinch the bridge of my nose against the headache suddenly forming in my skull.
“Yeah. And I’m pretty sure a couple of them are underage. My staff didn’t serve them, but apparently a few of the older ones kept slipping them drinks when no one was looking. I wanted to call you, see if you wanted to handle it or if I should maybe get the sheriff involved?”
“No. Thank you. I really appreciate you calling. If you wouldn’t mind holding off on that, I’ll be right down there.”
“No problem. See you in a few.”
I made what was usually a ten-minute drive in seven. I could hear my boys the instant I walked into Dropped Anchor, but the first person I had eyes on was Presley. It wasalwaysPresley.
She stood at the bar with one of her people, her eyes on the table of unruly college football players. At least until she felt me entering the bar. It was that invisible tether between us drawing our eyes together.
I stood in place, not wanting to reveal myself to my boys yet, as I watched her lean in to whisper something to the woman standing beside her before breaking away and heading in my direction. I didn’t miss the way her eyes dropped to the floor before coming back up, her gaze almost bashful as she looked at me through the fan of her lashes, or how her cheeks went rosy. Her hand fluttered in front of her nervously before she caught herself and clutched them together in front of her.
“Hi,” she said softly. “Thanks for coming.”
“Thanks for calling me instead of the cops. I’m sorry about my guys.”
She waved me off. “They’re kids, Beau. I remember what it was like at that age.”
If only I had the kind of life where I could relate. That was one of my concerns about being their coach. At their age, I was so focused on football and not fucking up because it was my only way out. I didn’t cut up or get in trouble like all my buddies. I couldn’t be a normal kid because I couldn’t risk my future.
My chest tightened as I looked to the table full of kids I was supposed to be leading, supposed to be teaching to be better men. I couldn’t worry that I was failing them. I couldn’t get so tangled up in doubts that I dropped the ball with these guys. They deserved better. “I’ll take care of it.”
I’ll leave you to it. Good luck.” She took a step back, and I instantly hated the distance she put between us. But I could only handle one thing at a time. I’d take care of my boys, then I was coming for her.
Chapter Twenty-Six
PRESLEY
WatchingBeau Wade handle his players was... really something.
“My god,” Rachel breathed from beside me. “What is it about him reaming those kids out that’s so damn sexy?”
I didn’t have the answer. All I knew was it was. It really,reallywas. Something about seeing Beau exert his authority while still somehow managing to handle the kids with a level of care I hadn’t thought him capable of was so freaking hot it made my insides feel like molten lava.
I wasn’t above admitting I’d stealthily moved closer as he got on the kids so I could hear what he was saying.
“Martin, you’re the captain of this team. That means, when it comes to the rest of these guys, you’re supposed to lead. Not only on the field, but by example. What you did today didn’t just let me down, it let them down as well.”
The kid he’d been talking to lowered his head, shame washing through him. “Sorry, Coach. We wanted to bring the newbies out for a little fun, is all.”
Beau planted his hands on his trim hips, his expression morphing into one my dad had used on multiple occasionswhenever I did something stupid growing up. But even though his disappointment in the boys was clear as day, he never raised his voice. He didn’t yell or curse to get his point across, he showed a level of patience I hadn’t thought he was capable of, almost as though he was handling them with care. And I’d be damned, but it seemed he was getting through to them. That Martin kid especially.
“You thought bringing your underage teammates out and getting them wasted was fun? Coming here and drinking so much you made fools of yourselves, giving the team as a whole a bad name in the process, was all fun? This bar is someone’s livelihood. You ever stop to think about that? These people, they came to have a good time, not to watch a bunch of immature kids make asses of themselves. You’ve been such a disruption, the manager had to call me to handle you. And you think that’s fun?”
The whole lot of them shrunk under his disapproving glower.
“What do you think would have happened if she’d called the cops instead of me, huh? You think the tickets each and every one of you would have been slapped with for public intoxication, drunk and disorderly, and underage drinking would have beenfun? Would that still have been fun when you were kicked off the team for breaking the school’s code of ethics?”
“No, sir,” they all grumbled miserably.
