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“Okay. Then repay me by joining the team and planning for the future. Play the season. See how it goes. Worse case is you get to enjoy your senior year playing the sport you love. Best case is you take the Wildcats all the way to the state championship. Either route could result in some future funding. There used to be a little boy who dreamed of becoming a marine engineer. He has to still be in there somewhere.”
The little boy who wanted to work on ships was also the one who loved playing football. Until he realized his mom had dropped him off at practice and never looked back. “I don’t want to be an engineer, and I sure as fuck don’t want to play ball.” Damn it. Why do I have to be such an idiot? “But I will for you, I guess, since you paid for my fancy education with blood, sweat, and tears.”
“Truth. But my little bro is totally worth all the agonizing hours of teaching Shakespeare.” Dustin laughs, but it’s hard for me to do the same. He’d hated attending Saint Juliet as much as I do now, so I know it wasn’t his first choice to teach at. He one hundred percent did it to keep his baby brother enrolled, and since he is my legal guardian, his employment got me a free ride at the school. Sometimes, I wish it wouldn’t have been an option. Because even though I grew up with most of my classmates, none of them know me. They only know the former version of me, back when Dad was a congressman… before he lost everything we had. Including our home.
“I hope so.” I mutter under my breath as I take a look around the fancy country club that Coach King invited us to meet him at. He’s the last person I want to see. At least I think that until I see his evil spawn headed our way.
“Um. What’s that about?” Dustin asks before turning his back. No doubt wanting to avoid the scene I can’t tear my eyes away from: Morgan King in a bra, thong, and sneakers walking across the parking lot.
“Who the fuck knows.” Best guess… someone had enough of the hateful wench and attempted to drown the nastiness out of her. It’d never work. She needs a stake to the heart or maybe an exorcism to rid the vile demon from her soul.
If she wasn’t the very definition of living hell, I’d enjoy the sight of her sexy-as-fuck body. From her tits to her perfectly curved ass, it’s all a ploy to lure prey into her clutches. But there’s nothing except pure evil beneath the surface.
I notice there’s a bit of a crack in that surface the closer she gets. Her usually perfect blonde hair is drenched and tangled. Her makeup looks messy, and she looks even more pissy than usual. Her deep-green eyes keeping a direct fix on mine.
There’s less than a foot of space between us as she stops in front of me. Her hand props on her hip as she keeps a watch on me. “Now you grace us with your presence?”
Her frustration brings a genuine smile to my face. Part of avoiding the team is avoiding her—or more specifically her dad, which in turn is part of her. There’s nothing about Morgan King I want to be around. I know I’ll get burned. Again. But if I have to be near her, I’ll take pissing her off as a consolation prize. “Didn’t know you missed me that much.”
Her arm drops to her side, her body tensing as she steps to me and presses her chest against mine. “You know your fuckin’ place and it’s not here, stray.”
“Okay.” Dustin moves closer, taking a deep breath, and prepares his teacher voice as he clears his throat. “How about we take a step back and figure out a way to get along for a change.”
Never gonna happened. The she-devil cooperating with anyone—let alone me—would be a miracle in itself. “How about it, Morgue?”
“Morgan,” Mrs. King calls across the lot as she approaches with Coach beside her. I’m waiting for him to notice his half-naked daughter pressed against me. I mean, I’m sure as fuck aware of her and exactly how she feels, but his beaming smile surprises me. I’d expect at least a little confusion, if not outrage and indignation. Surely no doting father would want to see their baby girl pressed up against some random dude in the parking lot, never mind the fact that she’s flashing her ass for everyone to see. Then again, Mrs. King looks like she has enough concern and confusion for both of them. Holy fuck, what must it be like to be cursed with trying to rein in sheer malevolence? “Will you please come get in the car with me while your father speaks with Cade?”
Coach reaches his hand out, shaking Dustin’s first before looking to me. His hand stays extended to me as he says, “Glad you could make it.”
“Seriously?” Morgan bitches as she finally removes her body from mine and looks at her dad. “You’re glad he showed up hours late, right when we’re about to leave? Now I guess we’re stuck here for another five hundred hours.”
Coach doesn’t seem concerned, but Dustin does as he speaks up first. “No, we just wanted to apologize for running behind. We don’t want to keep y’all.”
“Oh, no big deal. I have a few more swings in me if the two of you are up for it.” Coach looks to Dustin because he already knows which Crawford is the easier and more agreeable brother.
“We don’t want to interfere with your plans.” Dustin nervously looks to Morgan, and I’m not sure if it’s her lack of clothing or her suffocating hostility making him anxious. Being her teacher, he has to follow strict guidelines for student-teacher interactions, but he can’t be blamed for some psycho chick parading around in her bra and some dental floss in a public place.
“Too late,” she adds as her mother tries to quietly pull her away.
“It’s no problem. We can talk shop. Get a good game plan in place.” Coach is way too happy—and obviously not good at reading the room—considering the level of unease in everyone around him.
“Dad. I need to go home.” The wet clothes in her hand swings through the air.
“I’ll take you,” her mother quickly volunteers.
“Don’t you have some business to attend to with Principal Thatcher, Mom?” Morgan asks in such a way that I know nothing about the question is what it appears on the surface. Even her mother isn’t safe from her own daughter’s malice.
“I’ll take you.” Fuck. Why did I say that? Probably because staying here is another bad option but at least this way I can rile up Morgan a little more. And the shock on her face is priceless. It’s not often she can be caught off guard.
She laughs as soon as the shock wears off. “Great joke. Kinda like you.”
I’m aware. Why else would I even invite the she-devil to ride shotgun in my truck? “Hop in.” I motion to my truck. “But you might want to dry off a bit, so you don’t mess up my leather seats.”
“Now I know you’re full of shit.” She folds her arms over her chest.
Grabbing the hem of my T-shirt, I tug it over my head and hold it out to her. “Here. I’ll even give you this to wear so you’ll be cozy.”
Surprisingly, she actually takes the T-shirt from me, her eyes looking to the fabric as she shakes her head. Throwing the shirt, it hits my bare chest and falls to the ground. “You’re such a fuckin’ asshole.”
