Quarterback Sneak (Red Zone Rivals #3)(72)

For that moment in time, in Holden’s arms, everything was perfect.

Until I opened my eyes and found my father standing behind him.

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Holden



I stared at my hands clasped between my knees and tried not to shit myself.

The house had been cleared, the team told enthusiastically by Coach to go out and celebrate. I knew without him having to say it that he meant everyone but me.

He’d held his smile, his composure, until the last teammate was out the door. Then, he’d told Julep to go home without so much as looking at her.

Clearly, he had intentions of dealing with me first.

Now, it was just the two of us in the living room, trash and food left everywhere from the team. The TV was still on, the analysts going on about their bowl predictions. Coach found the remote and muted it before he stood on the opposite side of the room from where I sat, his arms folded, jaw clenched shut.

I didn’t know if he wanted me to speak first or wait to be spoken to. The latter seemed more probable, so I waited, trying to come up with a game plan. There was no use in lying, in trying to make excuses. He’d caught us red-handed.

At this point, the only thing I could do was apologize, ask for forgiveness, and explain the truth.

When another few minutes passed without him saying a word, I cleared my throat. “Sir, I—”

He held up a hand to silence me.

I swallowed, and another minute passed before he let out a long breath and finally looked at me. “I wish I could say I’m surprised.”

He let the weight of those words settle over us, his glare severe. He meant it as an insult and wanted to make sure it landed before he moved on.

“I had one rule,” Coach said. “One. I didn’t care if the team partied. I didn’t care if grades slipped a little, if we needed to pull some strings to keep the guys on the starting lineup. I knew coming in as a new coach that the team would be stressed out enough as it was, so I did everything I could to make the environment one where everyone could let loose a little, where they could focus on the task at hand. One rule,” he said again. “That was all I asked for.”

I knew better than to try to speak again, but I didn’t waver where I held his gaze. I fought the temptation to look back down at my hands.

Coach shook his head like I disgusted him.

“I don’t want to be in this house with you any longer than necessary,” he finally said. “So let me just tell you what’s going to happen next so we can both move on. You are going to leave Julep alone. You are going to call whatever this thing is off. And you’re going to do it today.”

“I can’t do that.”

His eyes widened, like he was shocked I had the balls to say even that much. “Oh, you can, and you will. My daughter has been through more shit than you could ever fully comprehend.”

I wanted to argue that, too, but I let him continue.

“She’s finally living on her own, making friends, holding good grades, staying out of trouble. She’s finally doing okay. And I don’t need some hot shot athlete leaving for the NFL to come in, break her heart, and fuck all that up.”

“Did you ever stop to think that maybe I’m part of the reason she’s doing so good?”

He laughed. Not a subtle or amused laugh, but one that bellowed out of him loud and full of disdain. “The only thing you’re responsible for is putting her on edge, for putting temptation too close. I know about this place,” he said, gesturing to the house around us. “I know about the parties, the drugs. I know exactly what kind of influence you are,” he added, taking a step toward me with his finger pointed at my chest. “And how you think you’re better than everyone else, that you’re smarter than even your coaches, that you don’t need to follow directions or listen to anyone above you. You think you call your own shots, and that’s fine, but I’m here to knock you down a peg or two and remind you that you don’t know everything.”

“I never claimed to.”

“You’re as blind as you are stubborn.”

“Me? I’m the stubborn one?” I stood then, trying to keep my voice calm even as the level of it raised. “Coach, with all due respect, you have been on my ass all season long, ever since you showed up. It’s like you made up your mind about me before you even knew who I was.”

“I knew well enough after one practice.”

“You haven’t even given me a chance to—”

“What do you call this?” he interrupted, thrusting his hand toward me. “I gave you a chance to prove me wrong, Moore, and you didn’t. You proved I knew exactly who you were and that I had every reason to be wary of you — not only as a quarterback and a captain, but as someone with too much time around my daughter. I should have never let her watch over your recovery.”

I blew out a frustrated breath. “Look, I know I disobeyed your orders. But—”

“No, there shouldn’t be a but after that sentence.”

I ground my teeth, pissed off that he wouldn’t even let me finish a goddamn sentence.

“Again, you are the quarterback. You are the captain. I shouldn’t have to say anything more than those two facts for you to understand that out of all the players on the team, it’s you I expect the most from. It’s you who I don’t blink at before demanding greatness. It’s you I should be able to trust. And it’s not you who I should have to worry about going against my orders — on or off the field.”