Chapter 55: Can't do this - Cole

I throw my helmet on the ground in frustration, anger blanketing my vision. We just played the worst first half since I've been starting quarterback, everything is falling apart. Our defense, the offenses, my passes are not successfull. We are fucking losing, and on home ground too.

Everybody pauses and looks at me like I've lost my mind. They have never seen me lose it like this before. I'm always the one with the motivating words at half time, but now we're down fucking seventeen points to a team that has been annihilating our whole offense.

"Get yourself together, Smith!" Coach screams at me when he enters the locker room. "This game isn't over boys! If you're gonna start crying now, I suggest you take your fucking cleats out of my motherfucker stadium."

I take a seat and pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to calm myself down and get back into the laser focus I usually have during a game.

"So you better pull up your panties, Smith, or you're on the bench."

That is the last words a quarterback wants to hear. This is my house, I'm not gonna live here sitting on the bench.

Monet is in that crowd, cheering for me, wearing those damn silver cowboy boots. She said we have to stay away from one another, that we can never be.

She's right, but she's also wrong.

I can't stay away from her. I don't want to. I quickly get up, and go to my locker, ignoring Coach's shouting, and getting my headphones on and open the video from this morning.

Monet was alone in the dorm room, so she let the towel fall after she came back from taking a shower. Her gorgeous body is in full display for me to see, her brown nipples pebbling before she puts on her bra, another lacy thing that has me going insane. She puts on a matching thong, and then she turns around, and lets just say I have to really train my mind not to get a boner in my pants. I need to have her in some way or the other tonight.

Is she still wearing that thong? Did she change?

I get exactly what i need from that video clip that I saved before I walk to the rest of the team, Coach looking furious as fuck when he sees me.

"Are you ready to play, Smith?"

"Yes, Coach."

"Now you boys go out there and show them exactly who we are. My momma didn't raise no quitter, so you better not quit on me now!"

I'm feeling better when we go out, the team looking expectantly at me as we huddle before the next play.

"I don't know about you." I tell them, my voice calm. "But I'm not losing tonight. We said we're ending this season undefeated, and that's how it will be. Luke, how the fuck are they getting past you? You're the fucking Great Wall of China, you do not fall! Antoine, I thought you're the fastest fucker in the country, when I throw, you better catch. Now, lets bring this home. Devils on three."

"One, two, three. Devils!"

The home crowd roars when we break, getting into position. Apart from Monet's arms, this is the only place where I am calm and in control, and no team is going to take that away from me. Not fucking tonight.

We win, by a mere three points, but this was a tough one, and I can see some of the players tired and fucked up, but we're all cheering when that final whistle blows and declares us the winners.

I look out at the stand just above where the team is, and Monet and Amy are jumping up dowd, wearing fucking red mini dresses, the fabric clinging to Monet's curves.

She sees me looking at her, and something shifts in her eyes. Her laugh drops, but she keeps the smile, waving shyly at me.

I want to run over to her and shove my tngue in her mouth like I did when she was over at my place, but I just point my helmet at her, making the crowd go even crazier.

"That's how you fucking play, boy!" Coach grabs my jersey and shakes me. "Great fucking game!"

"Thank you, Coach!"

I'm glad Kamila didn't come to this game this weekend, because that meas that we're at the frat house earlier than what I normally get there after the post game interviews.

The party is lit, everyone wanting to shake my hand and take a picture or offering alcohol.

Alcohol is not my substance of choice.

I see her in the dancing crowd on the lawn in front of the frat house. She has a drink in her hand and laughing at something fucking Damon Jones says. Why is he even here? He never comes to these parties except for when it's hosted for the baseball team.

There's only one answer. He knew she was going to be here, but he's not touching her. Not on my fucking watch.

I salivate at her in the tight dress, the fabric threatening to expose her ass cheeks. Probably Amy that made her wear that, she would have never worn something like that at home.

These are the moments I wished she was mine. I would walk over there and kiss her in front of him, claiming her.

She does belong to me, just not in public. Yet.

"You want a beer?" Luke's eyes are also scouring the crowd, looking for Amy.

"Sure."

Stacey takes that moment to appear from somehwere, and she flings her arms around my neck. "My hero! You were brilliant in the second half!"

"Thanks." I push her slightly off me, my eyes going back to where Monet is, only to find hers already on mine.

Her smile has dropped, and she's not listening to what Damon is saying.

She's jealous.

I can't help but smirk.

"Do you feel like celebrating tonight?" Stacey's manicured finger runs down my shirt, stopping at the top of my jeans. "We haven't seen each other in a while."

I catch her hand, holding Monet's golden eyes hostage with mine. "Sorry, Stacey, I'm not up for playing anymore."