Ch. 3

Rowan pov

After the stupid warm up or whatever Matteo wanted to call that torture, I was already fed up. It was like he was avoiding saying my name unless he absolutely had to.

“Move left. Right. Left…”

Those were the only instructions he gave me. Everyone else got corrections and feedback, while I got nothing. If it had been Coach Jefferson, I would’ve taken that as a sign I didn’t need to work on anything.

Maybe this was Matteo’s way of proving I had become just another player to him. That was somehow good, because I was tired of trying to figure him out anyway.

The rest of practice went by with endless drills. By the time Matteo finally blew the whistle for a break, my shirt was soaked with sweat.

“Ten minutes,” he announced.

I grabbed a bottle of water from the cooler and emptied half of it in one go.

Buzz.

My phone vibrated inside my gym bag. I didn’t even have to check the screen to know it was the old man. Who else would call in the middle of practice?

I sighed and turned the phone face down on the bench. Whatever he wanted could wait until practice was over.

Right now, I wasn’t in the mood to hear another lecture about basketball, therapy, or how I was wasting my potential.

“Captain!” I looked up.

Coach Matteo stood at the center of the court, whistle hanging around his neck. “We need to talk.”

I frowned and walked over to him, wondering what he wanted to talk about. He didn’t say anything right away.

We stood near the edge of the court while the rest of the team continued their drills. Matteo simply looked at me for a few seconds, his expression unreadable.

“What?” I asked unable to bear the quietness anymore.

He exhaled quietly. “I’m going to be truthful with you.”

I folded my arms across my chest. “My dad didn’t force you to come back, did he?” I asked before I could stop myself. The question had been gnawing at me.

His jaw tightened. “No.”

For some reason, that answer made my chest feel lighter.

Then he spoke again. “Your father paid me to coach this team.”

The feeling disappeared just as quickly. I stared at him. So… He hadn’t come back because of me. It was just another arrangement made by the old man. I forced my face to stay blank. “Then why are you telling me this?”

“Because your father called me a minute ago.” Matteo glanced toward my gym bag. “He said you’ve been ignoring his calls. He wants you to call him back.”

A smirk found its way onto my face. I looked him up and down before clicking my tongue. “Fuck you Matt.” I gave him a flip brushing past him.

“Ro.”

My steps came to an abrupt stop. I slowly turned around.

For a second, Matteo looked just as surprised as I felt. That was the name he used whenever we were together. His expression hardened again. “I hope you’ll keep going to your therapy.”

I said nothing.

“Your father had told me about the depression… and the burnout your doctor talked about.” His voice remained calm. “And don’t drag the team down with you:”

I laughed a humorless laugh. “So that’s why you suddenly called me?” But was met with silence. “I would like permission to leave practice.”

He didn’t answer and not like I was going to wait for an answer. It annoyed me that my dad could always tell everyone about my sickness, even though my therapist treated it as top secret.

I walked straight to the bench, grabbed my gym bag, shoved my phone into my pocket, and headed for the exit. I needed air. More than that… I needed Emma.

Thankfully, I was the only player on the team without a roommate. The last thing I wanted right now was someone asking if I was okay or trying to figure out why Emma had come over.

I unlocked my phone and dialed her number.

She answered before it could ring a second time. “Hey! Are you finally done with practice?” she asked.

“Are you free?”

“I am, duh.” She laughed. “I thought you were ignoring my messages.”

“Are you coming or not?”

The teasing in her voice disappeared. “I’ll be there.”

I ended the call without another word.

Emma knew me well enough to know something was wrong.

I shoved my phone back into my pocket and headed toward the front. I didn’t know what pissed me off more. The fact that my father had paid Matteo to coach my team… Or the fact that Matteo had actually accepted.

Either way, I needed to get away from that gym before I lost my temper.

I shoved my phone back into my pocket and made my way toward the players’ residence. Calling it a home would’ve been generous.

It was just the accommodation the club provided for the team whenever we were in town. Better than a hotel, I guess, but it still didn’t feel like mine.

I climbed the stairs to the second floor and stopped in front of my door. The hallway was quiet and just exactly what I needed. I unlocked the door, tossed my gym bag onto the couch, and kicked off my training shoes.

I grabbed a bottle of water from the mini fridge and took a long drink before dropping onto the couch.

My phone buzzed.

Emma: I’m outside.

That was fast. I pushed myself to my feet, slipped my slides back on, and headed downstairs to let her in.

The moment we stepped inside, Emma was already clinging to me.

“Eww.” I shoved her away. “What is that smell? Don’t tell me you emptied an entire bottle of perfume on yourself.”

She sniffed her shoulder and rolled her eyes.“Just forget about it. Girl stuff.”

“Girl stuff?” I frowned. “Whatever girl stuff this is. That’s suffocating, take a shower.”

She grabbed her bag, and headed straight for the bathroom. I dropped back onto the couch, staring at the ceiling, trying to shake off everything.

Within minutes she was already walking out with a towel wrapped around her chest. She approached me slowly, with eyes locked on mine, and pulled the towel off in one smooth motion, letting it drop to the floor.

Emma was stark naked, full on display. She was the kind of girl any guy would lose his mind over. She has the girls dream body, long legs, smooth skin, that confident way she carried herself like she knew exactly what she did to people.

She climbed onto the couch and straddled my lap, settling her weight right on me. Her hands rested on my shoulders as she leaned in close, waiting.

I stared at her for a while and I’ll admit, she was gorgeous. Hot as hell. We’ve had plenty of explicit nights together, no-strings shit that worked for both of us. But right now… my body wasn’t reacting to anything.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

To keep her from noticing, I flipped her off my lap onto the bed beside me, trying to play it off like I was just changing positions. I couldn’t bear to fake it.

Emma stared at me, her expression shifting from playful to confused. “Tell me you didn’t call me here to get me all worked up and then dump me like this.”

I looked at her, the guilt hitting quick. “Sorry. I’m not in the mood today.”

A loud resounding slap came sharp across my cheek. “Asshole.”

I know I deserved the slap.

She stayed beside me on the couch, spreading her legs as her fingers moved down between her thighs. Within minutes her breathing turned ragged, as she squirted soaking the edge of my bed.

I rolled my eyes, reached over to the side table, and tossed her the box of tissues without a word.

Emma cleaned up in silence, still breathing heavy. She didn’t look at me as she got dressed. I didn’t try to stop her from leaving. The last thing I needed was another slap from her.

Once she left, I sat there for a while longer, the room feeling too quiet. Fuck this. I grabbed my jacket, shoved my phone and wallet into my pocket, and headed out.

Maybe a drink or five would drown out the noise in my head.