Nets and Lies (4 page)

His eyebrows shot up. “Now?”

“Why not?”

“Will is about to take the court.”

“You want me so bad then prove it to me,” I countered.

At that moment, Melanie and her basketball BFF Lauren Elrod, came out of the locker-room. I quickly changed gears.

“So are you really gonna dock me a whole letter grade for not dressing out? That’s so unfair. You’re supposed to be everyone’s favorite coach,” I whined for their benefit.

I shuddered with jealousy as Coach T grinned and winked at Melanie. When they were gone, he inched closer to me. “Meet me outside behind the old concession stand in five minutes.”

“All right.”

I waved bye to him and walked away. I backtracked around the court and went out the front doors. I glanced around. No one was paying any attention. It was dark as hell outside, and I could barely see in front of me. Stumbling, I made my way across campus to the run down area where the old football field had been.

When I turned the corner of the concession stand, Coach T grabbed me. I melted into him as his lips crushed against mine. I couldn’t see anything in the dark, but I didn’t need too. All I needed was the feel of his hands on me.

And I knew that was a certainty.

Cold air stung my bare stomach as he jerked my shirt out of my jeans. I sucked in a rasping breath before he replaced the iciness with his warm palms. They slid up my ribcage to cup my breasts, kneading them roughly. I shivered with excitement as our tongues battled each other. Keeping one hand on my breast, he brought the other down to undo my jeans almost effortlessly. He thrust his hand inside to delve into my panties, seeking out my warmth.

“Jordan, I want you so much,” he breathed into my ear.

As his eager fingers slid inside me, I panted, “Can’t you see how much I want you?”

“Hmm, baby, you’re always so hot and wet for me. I could stay buried inside you all the time.”

Those words were all the encouragement I needed. My fingers tugged at the button on his pants. Once I had the zipper down, I shoved his underwear and pants down over his hips.

When he rammed me back against the metal wall of the concession stand, I cried out. The cold pierced my naked skin like a thousand knives.

His fingers stopped working their magic inside me. “What’s wrong?”

Now my teeth were chattering. “The w-wall is c-cold.”

“I know how to fix that,” he murmured, as he withdrew from me to dig a condom out of his wallet.

After he slid it on, he grabbed my bare ass and lifted me to wrap my legs around his waist. In one harsh thrust, he buried himself inside me, pounding me back against the icy wall. But I didn’t feel the cold. True to his word, Coach T fixed everything. His thrusts were rushed and frantic as I grinded myself against him.

All too quickly it was over, and I wanted to cry. The fact that I needed to be connected to him so much scared me. The one thing I wouldn’t admit to my friends, my mom, or anyone else was I was in love. I hated to admit it even to myself. Somewhere between the flirtation and the affair, I’d fallen for him. He was everything I could ever imagine wanting.

After he zipped up his pants, he kissed me one last time. “Monday as usual?”

“Yes,” I replied, breathlessly.

“Good.”

He peered around the side of the concession stand and then started jogging back across campus. I waited a good ten minutes before I started back to the gym. I skidded to a stop when I saw Tara standing outside the door. “Where were you?”

“Oh, Andy wanted to talk to me for a minute.”

She eyed me suspiciously, but she didn’t say anything. “Come on. The guy’s game is already in the second quarter.”

I smoothed my shirt and hair one last time and then followed her inside. My stomach churned when I saw Coach T with his wife. She sat on the bleacher above him, draping her arms over his neck. I argued against the nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach. After all, it was
her
hanging all over him, not the other way around. He didn’t really want her anymore—he just wanted me.

I turned my head and tried to focus on the game, but all I could do was think about him. When I kept grinning like an idiot about our quickie, Tara rolled her eyes.

“Did you go out to the parking lot and hook-up with Andy?”

“Ew, no! Why would you think that?”

“Cause you’re acting all sex glowy.”

I snorted. “I promise if I touched Andy, it would be to slap the shit out of him.”

Brandi was talking up some guy beside her, so Tara leaned over to me. “I saw you talking to Coach T.”

I stared straight ahead, not allowing my face to betray anything I was feeling. “Yeah, I ran into him on the way to the bathroom.”

“You didn’t go to the bathroom,” she argued softly.

“Why don’t you say what you want to or forget it?” I asked. My knuckles were white from twisting my purse strap over and over in my hands.

Tara hesitated, biting her lip. “Is there really something going on between you and Coach T?”

My heartbeat accelerated in my chest. “Jesus, no! Can’t I think a man is hot without it meaning something else?”

She shrugged. “You just seem really flirty with him.”

“I flirt with everyone,” I argued.

“I know,” she said. “But there’s something about the way you look at him. It’s different.”

“It’s
nothing
,” I emphasized.

Tara nodded, but I could tell she didn’t completely believe me. For the rest of the night, I tried to reign in my behavior so I wouldn’t make anyone else suspicious.

Squeak, squeak, squeak, swoosh, swoosh, swoosh
. It was Monday afternoon, and my ears hummed with the familiar sounds of Coach’s T’s kill and drill practice sessions. As captain and guard, I ran play after play, bringing the ball down the court safely until it passed to the next player’s hands. But I didn’t feel truly successful at my job unless the ball also made its way into the net.

The sound of Coach T’s whistle caused me to screech to a halt. “Becca, go in for Melanie,” he ordered. Becca raced off the bench without a question. “Mel!” He waved me over. I handed the ball to her before trotting off the court. “Yeah, Coach.”

He motioned towards the players. “I want you to tell me what’s going on with the Packed Ten play. Nothing seems to be working right.”

I nodded.

“All right, let’s run a Packed Ten,” he barked. The rest of the girls ran the play at least three times before Coach T turned to me and arched his eyebrow. “Whatcha think?”

I closed my eyes and saw the play again in my mind. Although I hated to admit it, I knew it was Lauren’s fault. She kept forgetting to stay with her man. I bit my lip. With my eyes still closed, Coach T’s voice hummed close to my ear. “I guess you agree with what I’m thinking.”

My blue eyes snapped open to meet his dark ones. Amusement twinkled in them. “You’ve got too much honor, Mel. You’ll never make it as a head coach if you can’t learn that.”

“Who says I want to coach someday?” I asked, even though I knew the answer. There was no doubt I wanted to become a teacher and coach just like him. I’d realized that freshman year when I sat at half court and listened to one of his pep talks. He made rules, technique, and skills so clear, and he made the game like nothing I’d ever experienced before. I wanted to bring that same enthusiasm to girls someday. To have them change their view that basketball was just a sport
and to embrace it as something so much more than they ever imagined.

Reaching over he poked the place above my heart. “That right there. It tells me you’re gonna make a hell of a teacher and coach someday. If,” he paused and grinned, “you learn that in basketball, you have to be tough with your emotions. There’s no friends, no loyalty—just the game.”

I smiled. “All right. Lauren’s screwing up the play. You want me to tell her that and then make her run until she gets her act together?”

Coach T cocked his eyebrows at me. “Ah, look whose showing her tough side.” He looked from me out to the court. “I tell you what, Terminator. I’ll let you off the hook this time. I’ll call Lauren over and chew her out. How’s that?”

Inwardly, I cringed. Lauren had a temper, and I dreaded having to go into the locker room with her after one of Coach T’s ‘Come to Jesus’ bawl outs he was famous, or maybe infamous, for.

He nudged me playfully. “You don’t look too convinced, Mel.”

“No, no, you’re right. Go ahead and call her out.”

Coach T grinned at me before blowing his whistle. Becca came back to warm the bench some more, I jogged back onto the court, and Lauren got blessed out on the sidelines.

At the end of practice, Coach T spared me from the wrath of Lauren by saying, “Mel, run these balls into the athletic closet for me, and then bring me one of the pumps.”

I nodded and hustled off the court. The smell of age and rubber greeted me as I opened the closet door. Grunting, I pulled the rack of balls inside before going in search of one of the pumps. The closet needed a serious spring cleaning.

My shoes got caught in an old basketball net, causing me to pitch forward. “Fabulous, let me kill myself all over a stupid pump,” I grumbled. I scanned the rickety shelves. “All right, Coach T. Where the hell did you put the pump?” Finally, I found it on a top shelf. As I pulled it off, the shelf made an odd creaking noise, and then everything went black.

And after that moment, it would take a long time to come out of the darkness that enveloped me.