The Problem with Players Read Online Brittainy C. Cherry

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Sports Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 122219 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
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“Oh good. I think it’s good for him to be back on the field. I figured if he could get a grip on something he loved doing, he would start to wake up from this deep slumber he’s been walking around in.”

“You think he’s in a slumber?”

“I know he is. He doesn’t talk about being sad much. He’s too manly to do such a thing. But I see it in his eyes. It’s like he’s moving through life but not living it. The other boys say I’m just overthinking it and being too motherly, but I don’t know. My heart,” she said, patting her hand over her chest. “My heart feels his sadness.”

I didn’t say anything because what could be said? Was Nathan really sad? I didn’t notice that, but maybe that was because he was so good at putting on a brave face. Did he feel things deeply, like me, during his lonely moments? Did he ever struggle to get out of bed, too? Did he fill his days with helping others to avoid helping himself?

There was an odd tug at my heart as I listened to Laurelin talk about Nathan. Instant guilt hit me, too, because I didn’t make the transition of his coming to join the team as a coach easy for him. If anything, I’d been a pain toward him, questioning every decision he made. In reality, he was using the baseball diamond and the coaching position the same way I’d been. He’d been using that place and its facilities to help him breathe.

I was such an asshat, and it was clear that Nathan deserved my apology, yet I wasn’t exactly sure how to give it to him. I couldn’t tell him what his mom revealed to me. That felt like a conversation meant to be kept between Laurelin and me. Still, I knew I’d been too harsh toward him. Especially after all he’d done for me over the past weekend.

“He’s doing better, though,” Laurelin mentioned as she gently petted Lightning. “I’ve been to your home games lately, and he looks like himself out there. He’s not so uptight and business-forward. It’s nice to see him let his hair down and have fun again. So I guess I owe you a thank-you for making space for him on your staff.”

I pushed out a grin that was soaked in guilt. “Not a problem at all. We’re lucky to have him.”

That was a fact, too. Undoubtedly, the team was performing exceptionally well since Nathan joined the crew. He had a level of heart and intelligence that I didn’t possess, and seeing the guys excel from his coaching made it more difficult for me to complain about…anything.

Later that night, Nathan came back to the house. He walked around a bit, clearing his throat as if he had a frog trapped in there.

I arched an eyebrow toward him as I sat on his living room couch. “Are you getting sick?”

“No. I don’t get sick. I’m not a wimp like my brothers.” He walked over and sat on the other side of the couch from me. He glanced at the television. “Are you watching some crappy reality show?”

“There’s nothing crappy about The Traitors. It’s fantastic.”

“All reality shows are crap,” he replied before once again clearing his throat. “I’m going to hop in the shower and head to bed.”

I arched an eyebrow. “It’s only seven.”

“I’m exhausted.”

“Maybe because your body is shutting down because you’re sick.”

“I’m not sick,” he expressed as he pushed himself to a standing position. “Like I said, I don’t get sick.”

22

NATHAN

Igot sick.

One would’ve thought I was Easton when I woke up sick to my stomach in the middle of the night. The flu from hell had finally hit me, and I spent a good portion of my night throwing up my insides as I hugged the toilet seat. My whole body shook with chills as sweat dripped all over me. After only a few hours of sleep that morning, I woke up and found my way back to the bathroom to finish throwing up even more. The bathroom floor was ice cold, a stark contrast to the ravishing fever burning its way through my whole body.

Maybe Easton wasn’t being too dramatic. Whatever this bug had been, it was trying to take us out.

As I was expelling every single drop of dignity from my body, there was a knock on my bathroom door.

“Nathan? Are you all right?” Avery asked from outside the door.

I cleared my throat and grabbed the rag from the sink as I sat on the floor. I wiped it over my mouth. “Yeah, I’m fin⁠—”

Before I could finish, I started violently throwing up again.

The door to my bathroom slowly opened, and Avery’s soft footsteps echoed against the tile. I glanced up for a moment to see her standing there, fully dressed and ready to head over to the high school for her job. And there I sat. Like a pathetic toad on the bathroom floor.



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