Rookie Move (Playing for Keeps #1)(16)

“All right, all right. That’s enough, guys. It’s time to get to work,” Coach Baker said, and everyone got serious fast.

We took our seats for our first team meeting of the season. Cross—Garrett’s buddy—landed in the seat on the other side of him. We went over what we wanted for the year—a fucking Super Bowl ring—and then did a couple of exercises aimed at getting to know each other. Coach Baker had been with the Rush the past two seasons. He came with four rings under his belt, and while not all coaches stressed the teammates-are-family thing, Coach Baker was big on building strong bonds within the group and how that translated to the W on the field.

We went over some film from last season before starting an afternoon workout.

When we made it outside, we separated for offensive exercises. While the defense did their d-line exercises, I kept my eye on Garrett between my five-step drop drills.

We ended practice with gassers. By the time we’d run the full length of the field four times in a row, two newbies had thrown up and everyone looked dead on their feet. I conditioned all year, but I worried my legs might give out on me anyway. Sweat dripped from my lashes. Still, I looked at Garrett and winked. He rolled his eyes but gave me a small smirk before bending over, hands on his knees and taking a few breaths.

“Bring it in!” Coach Baker yelled. Garrett pushed up and stood, jogging directly over. He was as sweaty as the rest of us, his face pink, and my brain went directly to where it shouldn’t. Did his cheeks flush like that when he came?

Chill the fuck out. Get it together.

The motherfucker had me talking to myself. What the hell was it about Garrett?

As soon as the whole team was there, Coach said, “We’re doubling up, two in a room, because you’re all gonna become besties over the season.” A few of us laughed as Coach started calling out names. I heard a few guys grumbling in the background, bitching about bunking with someone else and being too old for this.

I glanced over at Garrett, who had his arms crossed but wasn’t complaining. “Good boy,” I whispered playfully.

“Fuck off.”

“Ramsey and McRae,” Coach called out. Welp, that made my job easier, at least during training camp. He couldn’t get into too much trouble if he was rooming with me. “Now, anyone who wants to whine or who has a problem with how I do things is welcome to sit out the season or find another team. I run this ship, and we do things my way. Come see me if you have an issue and want to ride the bench.” With that, he walked away.

“He’s no joke, is he?” Garrett asked.

“Nah, but he knows his shit. He’s good. He’s our best shot at going all the way.” I nodded toward the building. “Let’s go.”

We headed back inside, got our stuff. Unfortunately, there were issues with the plumbing that were being worked on, so we had to head to the team hotel, stinking like a bunch of sweaty pigs. Luckily, it was only a couple of miles away. Security kept things on lockdown while we were there so fans didn’t get in and guys didn’t sneak women into their rooms. They always said women gave you weak legs, which was sexist as fuck. I wondered if guys did the same.

The team was all on the eleventh floor. Once we got our keys and room numbers, Garrett and I headed up together. The hotel had been remodeled since last year, redecorated in earth tones, and our room had a large window on one wall and a balcony on the other.

“You can shower first,” I told him. Wasn’t I just a gentleman? “Then we’ll meet Coach and the team to eat, and the rest of the night is ours.”

“You planned it this way, didn’t you? Wanted me all to yourself.” Garrett waggled his dark brows.

“Damn. You figured me out. Annoying-ass people are my kink, and you’re top of the list.”

“I live to serve.” He tossed his bag on one of the beds and started pulling things out. “Want to save time and shower together?”

“No comment.”

“No comment? Not even for the environment? Water conservation is something we all need to start taking seriously.”

Not gonna lie, I was struck speechless for a minute, trying to think of some witty reply, but nothing would come to me. I landed on, “What in the hell is wrong with you?”

Garrett chuckled. “Straight people are so boring.”

I kept my mouth shut. I didn’t know why I kept my sexuality to myself with him. I trusted Garrett. Maybe it was just because sometimes I didn’t feel like I had the right to claim the bi label since I’d never experimented with a man. Logically, I knew that was bullshit, but I still felt it.

I pulled Denver Rush track pants and a tee from my bag, then searched for my toiletries. Garrett’s shower was quick, and less than ten minutes later, he came out wearing a towel.

“You’re up.” He walked to the bed, where I noticed he’d left his clothes, and dropped his towel.

“Jesus.” I averted my eyes, but not before I’d accidentally gotten a peek at his soft cock. What would he taste like? How would the soap smell on his skin there?

“See? Not a little man, am I?”

“Not sure. I looked, but I must have missed it.”

He laughed, the sound still drifting through the closed bathroom door when I fell against it. I needed to up my game. Garrett McRae was going to be the death of me.