Rushed(135)

"Two," I grumble, knowing if I lied, Bainridge would just look it up anyway. He gets that information from the registrar's office every semester. "So three?"

"Two thirty," Bainridge counters. "Coach Taylor has an offseason lift with the volleyball team scheduled to start at three, and I won't let some prima donna player of mine screw with his schedule. So you get your ass down there by two thirty, and you talk with him. I don't care if he wants you to sleep in the weight room and do wind sprints before breakfast. You do them, and you do them exactly according to protocol. If he says walk, you walk. If he says run so hard you puke, you’d better bring a bucket."

"Why the f*ck are you doing this?" I ask, and I know I'm pouting. Still, this sucks, and I can't do a f*cking thing about it. "You just want to see how hard you can push me for a year? Getting your rocks off or something?"

"Actually, whether you believe it or not, I'm doing this because I think you actually do have the talent to be a good pro-ball player. In fact, you’re one of the most talented players I've seen on this team in the twenty years I've had at Western. But . . . you're lazy and undisciplined. You take those habits to the pros, and you're going to be broken in half. So I'm going to make you learn discipline and how to work hard and be a man instead of an overgrown boy. That it will just happen to benefit this football team is what is known as a win-win. Understand me?"

I nod, and I'm not happy, but at least it's not as bad as I thought. He has what my father calls leverage, and most people with that amount of leverage don't exactly give it up this easily. Still, I can’t be sure that this was all that Coach wants. "Okay, I'll be there. Now, is there anything else you want?"

Coach shakes his head and points at the door. "You should probably get going, Duncan. After all, you still have a doctor's appointment this afternoon to make sure you're medically cleared to start your rehab tomorrow."

I get up and resist the urge to kick the chair across the room. Instead, I grab my backpack and go to the door, pausing before I open it. "You know, Coach, I'm going to take this shit and shove it down your damn throat some day."

"Good. That means you'll be scoring touchdowns while doing it, too. Now get out."

I leave the Coach's office, and I'm determined not to act like anything is wrong as I head out. I'm Duncan Hart, and there's no way that I can be made to look like a punk ass bitch. I'm going to play it cool.

Unfortunately for me, I'm playing it so cool—especially when I see a couple of girl's volleyball players heading down the hall toward the gym they use for practice, with their tight, thick volleyball asses snug inside those ridiculously hot short shorts they wear—that I'm not really looking where I'm going.

"Hey, Linda," I say to the one I know. "Whatcha doing tonight?"

"Don't even try it, Touchdown," Linda replies with a little mix of hatred thrown in. Okay, so I'd slept with her twin sister. That didn't mean I had to be hated, did it? Besides, I noticed Linda checking me out even afterward, especially when I was wearing my football pants, which are nearly as tight as her shorts. She wants the Hart Attack. Her sister loved it, and I know they talk.

"Come on, you know I'm not that—"

I'm not looking where I'm going. My eyes are fixed on Linda's ass, and I collide with someone, knocking them to the ground and causing me to stumble into the wall. “Holy shit! Look where you're going next time."

I see long blonde hair, maybe a girl's, as I grab my backpack, but before I can do anything else, the alarm on my phone rings, and I need to haul ass. My doctor's appointment is in twenty minutes, and since I can't technically be without my sling, that means I can't ride my motorcycle. Thankfully, the campus bus is convenient enough, and I catch the bus right as it starts to pull away, taking it the ten-minute ride to University Hospital.



I’m glad that Western University has one of the better orthopedic departments in this half of the United States. I couldn't imagine what it would be like to have dealt with any sort of injury at some cow college in the middle of nowhere.

"Mr. Hart? Let's get you to X-ray," the nurse, a cute little thing who's already eying me as we walk down the hall, says as she leads me to the scanning room. I check out her name tag, and I have to do a double take. I've seen her before, but this is the first time I've seen her name tag. Really? Someone actually named their daughter Nancy Drew? You've gotta be f*cking kidding me. "You're feeling no pain, right?"

"None that the doctor can help me with," I say, giving her a smirk. Nurse Nancy might just be what I need to relieve some stress. "You might be able to, though."

"Oh?" she purrs, leaning in. She's got a tight little body—that's evident even through her uniform—and she's showing me just a little bit of cleavage with her scrub top. "Find me after the exam. Maybe we can see what I can do for you."

"For sure." I smirk. "Think I can get the speedy service? You know, I'm having so many aches and pains in my hip area."

"Swelling?"

"Lots of it. Huge amounts of swelling."

The nurse is breathing heavier. She's already DTF, and I take her hand and give her a little kiss on the knuckles. "After my appointment, where will you be?"