Total pages in book: 13
Estimated words: 12136 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 61(@200wpm)___ 49(@250wpm)___ 40(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 12136 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 61(@200wpm)___ 49(@250wpm)___ 40(@300wpm)
“Did Coach set you up with people yet?”
“People?” I ask, confused.
“LIke an assistant, or manager?”
“My dad is my temporary manager, but he’s not here yet to help me find a more permanent one. I was also informed yesterday that I’d need a brand manager and an off-the-field stylist. Besides, I could never send my dad for my things.” I shudder to imagine my father, a construction foreman doing menial tasks that I’ve demanded of him. I’d be in for a quick slap to the back of the head for my impertinence.
“You’ll need an assistant then. They can help with all these little tasks. I call mine. He lives nearby.”
“He won’t mind helping me?”
“Nah. We’ll pay him double what he’s making now since we’ll be living together.”
“We’ll be living together?” I ask. If I didn’t want it so much, I’d be afraid that this was moving way too fast, but as it is, I happen to like it.
When we enter his room, I am blown away at the gray on black color scheme. It’s exactly what I would choose, though I’d add a hot pink throw pillow for some color. His bed is enormous, but the room is also. I walk into the bathroom and am dazzled by what looks like a tiny swimming pool against the far wall.
“That whirlpool has helped me more times than I can say after games, hell even brutal practices.”
“Awesome,” I say. He leaves me in peace, and I take care of my business. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that we didn’t use a condom. As soon as I walk back out into the bedroom, I find him already in bed with Sports Central News on. Chuckling, I climb in beside him.
“So, this is awkward, but I just wanted to tell you that I am on birth control,” I tell him, pulling the covers up to my chest. He grins.
“As much as I’d love to breed you, baby, I understand that your career is new, and I’d never get in the way of that. Besides, we have all the time in the world.”
Who is this man, and how’d I get so lucky? I ask myself as I watch the day’s highlight scroll across the bottom of the screen.
“You’re a real charmer,” I tell him. He leans over and kisses me again. God, I could live off of his kisses. TV forgotten, he travels kisses down my body to my pussy. I can definitely live off of pussy kisses. I shudder because he’s so good at it.
Have I really only been in Oregon for two days? By nine, it is lights out, and I am glad. I am sore and exhausted. Most people don’t realize that the life of an athlete isn’t just any given Sunday and parties. It’s a discipline, and with him, I know that he gets that. Workouts start at six am, and I have to be ready.
Chapter Five
Brandon
Three Weeks Later
Practice makes perfect; that’s Coach Caz’s motto and one I happen to agree with. It’s a scrimmage day, and for the first time, Sasha and I are on opposite teams. I get into formation, but I am distracted by her white jersey. She’s cut it in a diagonal pattern so that her midriff is showing. The damn thing is always showing. I never thought of myself as a jealous man, but if these last three weeks have taught me anything, I am, but only when it comes to Sasha.
After the snap, I move to pass the ball, but I am distracted by the fact that Greg Onkowsi has tackled Sasha but hasn’t gotten off of her. In a split second, I lose my cool and drop the ball. Like a madman, I rip Greg from her.
“What the fuck, man?” Grego shouts, pulling his helmet off. As soon as his helmet hits the ground, I punch him in the face.
“Yeah, what the fuck are you doing?”
“Brandon! Stop it,” Sasha shouts. “He was just doing his job.” She grabs the facemask of my helmet, pulling me downward toward her.
“Sasha, he wouldn’t get off of you,” I say, trying to explain my actions.
“It had only been about three seconds since he tackled me. The play wasn’t even over yet. Now, I love you, but you’ve got to chill,” she says. My world stops spinning for a second. You would also think that the other twenty guys on the field right now were in high school with the snickering and elbow jabs I am seeing.
“You love me?” I ask. Though I am sure we’ve felt it, neither of us has said the actual words to one another. I have shown her my love every fucking night, though.
“Of course I do. How could I not be after all the things we’ve done together.”
“Break it up. Back in formation,” Coach Caz shouts.