“You boys made me proud this past season, taking us all the way to the playoffs again, and with fresh blood, I know you’ll win the championship this year. And I’ll be in the stands cheering you on.”

  “But who’s going to be our coach, then?” someone in the back asks what’s on everyone’s mind.

  “Well, I’ve been holding on to that surprise until everything was official. It just so happens I decided to retire about the same time as one of my former players retired from the NFL. I reached out to him to see if he’d be interested in coaching. We finally got all the details ironed out. Eric?” He steps aside.

  We all turn to the doorway. I suck in a breath, afraid to move. In walks my hottest fantasy, still in his slim pants, button-down and yellow tie. Still looking good enough to eat.

  “Everyone say hello to Eric Nash, former wide receiver for the New England Warriors.”

  Billy’s practically vibrating in his seat beside me. The rest of the team hoots and hollers at a near-deafening level. All I can do is stare at Eric. He smiles as he scans the sea of faces until he reaches me. His deep blue eyes pin me to my seat. At any other time, I’d have paid a million dollars to have his intense stare focused on me, but realization finally hits. He may be my favorite fantasy come to life, but fuck! Now he’s my coach.

  2

  It’s been different being back in my hometown—quieter, more relaxed, and full of familiar faces happy to see me. In the NFL, my life wasn’t my own. I didn’t have time to form relationships or simply hang out with friends. If we weren’t practicing, we had games, and any downtime was spent catching up on sleep. Half the time, I didn’t know what city I was in until I saw the opposing team’s jersey. After a while, it takes a toll on a person—the meaningless faces and frenzy. I was never on the front line as a player, and I was happy with it. I enjoyed playing ball. Until I didn’t.

  I’d never completely hidden my sexuality from my teammates, but I didn’t make a big deal about it either because even though things have changed, there’s still a stigma attached to gay or bi athletes. Most of the time, I stuck to backroom, one-night stands. Occasionally, someone would stick around for more than one night, but they usually got tired of coming second to my career. Now I’m more than ready to settle down and find someone to call my own, someone to come home to and spend my nights with. So when Coach Brown called to ask if I wanted a job, I jumped at the chance. My contract was up anyway, and there was nothing—or no one—holding me there.

  Over the last few weeks, as I walked the familiar grounds of my alma mater, I couldn’t help but feel ancient compared to the young students passing me by. Had I ever looked that fresh-faced and happy? Playing ball was the only time I truly felt like I belonged somewhere, but eventually, I realized I needed something else—needed someone—to make my life complete.

  Today represents a fresh start for me. Coach Brown is announcing his retirement and introducing me to the team as the new head coach. It wasn’t a hard decision, and it feels right to be here as if I’m exactly where I’m meant to be. The NFL was only a pin drop in my journey to get here.

  This is my new life.

  A tingle of awareness runs along the back of my neck as I head to the athletic director’s office to iron out a few last-minute details. This isn’t the first time I’ve felt eyes on me while I’ve been on campus the last few weeks. I spin around halfway up the steps and search the quad, hoping to catch the culprit. Sometimes people will recognize me, not as much as some of my former teammates, but usually, they speak to me or request an autographed picture like I’m some kind of celebrity instead of hiding in the shadows.

  A blonde head pops out from behind a large oak tree and quickly pulls back when they notice me staring at them. What the hell? Maybe it’s time to see who my stalker is. As I approach, I hear the tale end of a conversation.

  “Come on, man. I’ll help you get something together. There’s bound to be some other gays there.”

  The same head peeks out and makes a cute noise. I hold back my chuckle. “Can I help you boys with something?”

  It only takes me a second to recognize the blonde as the kid I’d seen in the library a few weeks ago when I’d run into my buddy, Nico. He’d gone there to claim his guy, and I’d followed him in. Avery had been sitting with Ian. I’m ashamed to admit how often I’ve thought about him since that day. He’s impossible to forget, with his bright blue eyes and sandy blonde hair brushing his shoulders. He’s the typical boy next door and not even who I thought I’d be attracted to, but standing here watching him makes me half hard.

  I can’t remember a time I wanted someone more.

  I subtly shake my head to clear my inappropriate thoughts. He’s about half my age, and I’m about to be his coach. I’m pretty sure the school has a policy against staff fraternizing with students, not to mention what people would think about our age difference. Of course, Nico didn’t care that day in the library when he stormed in, claiming what was his.

  The kid with him gushes over me and keeps repeating my full name. It’s nice that people appreciate what I did during my career, but I’ve left that life behind. I want to be a normal guy with a normal life if possible.

  I can’t take my eyes off Avery as he makes up some excuse on the fly about why they need to leave. He’s everything I remember and more. He thinks he hid his hard-on in his shorts, but I noticed—it mirrored my own.

  Images of taking him from behind flood my mind as I watch him and his friend walk up the stairs. Shit! I need to quit thinking about things that can never happen. I let out a ragged breath. I need to get my wayward thoughts under control. He’s a kid! Even if his muscled body is all man.

  As hard as it will be, I need to think of him as just another player, nothing more. I head to the locker room, leaving all thoughts of Avery behind, and embrace this new adventure in my life.

  Coach Brown stands and extends his hand when I walk into his office. “Eric! It’s great to see you. So glad you accepted the offer. You had me worried there for a minute.” He motions for me to sit in the chair across from his desk.

  Nothing’s changed here, from the pictures of his wife and kids all over the room to the scattered papers. It’s like I stepped back in time. It brings to mind all the good memories—and a few not-so-fun ones, too.

  “I’m glad to be here, Coach,” I say truthfully.

  He waves his hand at me. “Enough with the coach thing. That’s all you now.”

  “You’ll always be Coach to me. I wouldn’t be here today if it weren’t for you.”

  When I was in high school, he came with the school recruiter to watch me play. It was the worst game of my life. But, lucky for me, he saw something he liked and gave me a chance. If not for him, the NFL would have been a pipedream. I owe him so much, and I’m determined to take his team and make it something he can be proud of. He’s given me the foundation. Now I can build on it.

  “Alright, son. You ready to meet the team? Any questions before we introduce you?”

  “I think I’m good, but don’t be surprised if you see my number pop up on your phone from time to time.” As far as coaching goes, he has more knowledge than I’ll probably ever have.

  “Anytime. I’m always here for you. Alright, let’s do this,” he replies, voice gruff. It can’t be easy leaving something he’s built over the years.

  “You alright, Coach?”

  “This is a little harder than I thought it would be, but my Martha wants to get out there and travel the world. She’s stood by me for so many years. It’s time for me to make her dreams come true.” He rounds the desk and clasps my shoulder. I’m determined to make him proud of me.

  We walk side by side toward the locker room. I wait outside until he calls my name. Loud cheers and high-pitched whistles greet me as I enter the room. This new step feels right. I’ve done all I can as a player, and now I’m ready to push this team to be the best they can be. I scan the room and mark each face until my eyes catch on Avery. I knew he’d be here, but it’s still a jolt to my system.

  I’d already heard from Coach Brown that he’s a pretty damn good player and seems serious about the game, staying out of trouble and not partying like some of the others. I can’t wait to see what he can do on the field. As much as I want him, I can’t treat him any differently than any of the other players.

  He squirms in his seat while I stare at him, conjuring inappropriate thoughts of other ways I can make him writhe. I snap back to the present when Coach hollers for everyone to settle down. I need to remember where I am and force my eyes away to address my new team.

  “I want to thank Coach Brown for all he’s done for the university and for recommending me for the position of Head Coach. Some of you may know I was a wide receiver for the New England Warriors for the past ten years. When my contract was up for renewal, I decided it was time for a change. It so happened Coach Brown was ready to retire about the same time. So when he called, I knew it was what I’d been looking for.

  “I’m going to be tough on you guys, and some days you’ll hate me for it, but I’m going to do all I can to bring out your full potential. Here I won’t be Eric Nash, the NFL wide receiver. I’ll be Coach Nash, and my door will always be open. Coach Brown will stay on for the first week of practice to make the transition smooth. We’re going to work our asses off to make him proud and bring the Championship home.”

  The guys break out in cheers again. A feeling of contentment washes over me as I watch their enthusiasm. It reminds me of what I’d been missing the last few years. That feeling of excitement and love of the game.

  Coach shouts over them. “Alright, alright. Go enjoy the next few weeks and come back prepared to work your asses off. You’ll think I was an old cream puff when Eric’s done with you. We’ll see you guys in June for conditioning, as usual. Dismissed.”

  The team files out with a few of the guys, stopping to introduce themselves. I’m split between paying attention to them and keeping my eye on Avery, who hangs back until everyone leaves the room.

  I eye him as he slowly approaches and grasps my hand. He strokes his thumb over the top softly. “See you in June, Coach.” His smile turns wicked, and his eyes glimmer with lust. Suddenly my pants are too tight, and if I had any doubts before, now I know.

  I’m well and truly fucked.

  Some things around campus haven’t changed, and graduation is one of them. It’s still held in the blazing hot Convocation Center, and it’s still fucking long and drawn out. I wouldn’t have gone, but Coach Brown insisted I attend as part of the faculty, which makes sense. I need to get into the mindset that I’m a part of this world now.

  Once it’s finally over, I push through the gathered crowd outside, ready to get back home and have a cold beer. I’ve got a video of the team’s previous games to watch so I can analyze the skill of the players who haven’t graduated yet. Coach Brown gave me his old playbook to start with, but I want to have a few new plays ready for the guys to work on.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Avery standing with another student. They’re leaning in towards the other, whispering. It’s clear they know each other in a more personal way, and it pisses me off—I’ll think about why that is later. I can’t take my eyes off them, and I barrel right into someone who growls at me to watch where I’m going.

  “Sorry, man.” I don’t look at who it is, still caught up in watching Avery. I want to rip the other guy away from him and tell him Avery’s mine.

  I shake that crazy ass notion from my head and finally peel my eyes away from him. I realize it’s my old buddy, Knox, I ran into.

  “How’s it going, brother?” He introduces me to the guy he’s with, and I’m not proud to say I don’t remember a thing said between us, still fixated on Avery. I throw a quick “congratulations” over my shoulder as I slap Knox on the back and head toward Avery. Before I approach, he throws his arm around the guy he’s talking to, and I see red.

  Maybe Avery has a boyfriend no one mentioned, not that they’d have any reason to share it with me. It’d be the best thing for everyone—namely me—if he is involved with someone, but I still hate the thought of it. I need to keep reminding myself I’m his coach, for god’s sake, and keep it professional. How much I want to kiss him or touch him or claim him as mine doesn’t matter. The only important thing is making him the best player he can be for as long as he’s here, then wishing him well when he moves on. I rub the ache in my chest. Why does the thought of that bother me so much?

  I need to get out of here. I change directions, turn away from him and his friend, boyfriend, whatever, and head to the parking lot. A few other faculty members say hello as I stalk to my car, but I only wave and keep going.

  The silence on the ride home allows my mind to drift to Avery and the young man he was with. I know him being in a relationship is best, but I still hate the thought of it. I don’t know much about him, but I like what I’ve discovered so far. He seems genuine and honest. He’s my type, physically, with his sculpted muscles from time spent in the gym and playing ball. I slam the door on those thoughts because he can never be mine. I have to keep reminding myself he’s a student and way too young for me.

  When I arrive home, I change into sweats and grab two cold beers from the refrigerator before flopping down on my couch. I pull up the first game feed to go over and try to get lost in the plays. My attempts are fruitless when I spot Avery on the sideline, standing in full gear with his helmet off. His mussed hair and devilish smile add to his appeal, and I wonder if he looks that way after sex. I imagine stripping him out of his uniform and licking each new section of skin I expose. My cock hardens to granite, and I know I’ll get nothing done unless I take care of it.

  I reach into my sweats and stroke it from root to tip with a groan. I pause the game with Avery’s smiling face on the screen. I rub around the head and picture him fully undressed and me stroking his dick like I’m doing to my own. My head drops to the back of the couch, and I close my eyes, letting the fantasy take over. I swirl my tongue around the tip of his length and taste the precum beaded there. I pull him into my mouth and take him to the back of my throat.

  His moans and pleas increase as I work him with my mouth and hand. I stroke my cock while I imagine sucking him at the same pace. I picture him grabbing my hair and the bite of pain I’d feel. When he tells me he’s close, I double my efforts until he’s coming down my throat. I can almost taste his bitter-sweet cum on my tongue. I give myself two more firm tugs, and my release spills onto my stomach. I keep my eyes closed, staying in the moment until the last aftershocks of my orgasm fade.

  When I look up at the ceiling, the realization of what I’d done hits me—I’d jerked off to thoughts of one of my players. No one can ever know, especially not Avery. There’s nothing I can do to change it, but I can’t let it happen again. From now on, I’ll watch porn and get my visuals from the guys on screen, even if the thought holds zero appeal. Avery can only be a student at the university and a football player for me to coach. Nothing more, nothing less. Although, who am I kidding? This isn’t the first time I’d jerked off to thoughts of him. I have a feeling it won’t be the last, no matter how hard I try.

  3

  The thump of the bass beats in time with the pounding in my head as I stagger through the throng of people and head toward the beer pong out back. Or at least it’s where I want to go. My legs take me in another direction.

  Did someone turn up the music? Not that anyone cares. Most are too busy making out on the couches or fucking in the spare bedrooms. I made a mistake earlier of opening a door without knocking, thinking it was the bathroom. Nope. Nothing like seeing your teammate’s hairy ass in the air plowing into some girl. I almost gag. It wasn’t even a nice ass, either, and I’m all about the asses.

  The first thing Billy did when we got here was shove a red cup in my hand. Then another and another, like it was his personal mission to get me drunk since he knows I rarely drink. He got gone after that, and I haven’t seen him since. Leave it to my best bud to abandon me at some party I didn’t want to go to in the first place. Maybe he’s got some chick somewhere. If so, more power to him, but I’m ready to go.

  When I pass through the kitchen, someone hands me another drink, and I toss it back like a pro. Ha! How many is that now? I lost count after five. Between the shots and the lukewarm beer, who knows? Technically, I’m not supposed to be drinking—nineteen and all that—but unless someone calls the cops, I’ll be fine.

  I hadn’t planned on getting drunk tonight—I only came to get Billy to ease up on his whining—but after seeing Eric, no, Coach Nash, turn around and walk the other way after he spotted me talking to Noah at graduation, I can at least drown my misery for one night. Noah is nice, and we’ve become good friends since Ian introduced us during one of my tutoring sessions, but he’s not my type. Tall, blue-eyed older men are more my jam. Who am I kidding, anyway? It’s not like I ever have a chance with Eric, especially now that he’s my coach, but I can fantasize all I want.

  I haven’t stopped thinking about him since the meeting. Half of me wants to climb him like a tree and not take no for an answer. The other half realizes it can never be. But I saw how his eyes lingered on me when he entered the locker room. I know I didn’t imagine the heat there. I only meant to tease him a little when I left, let him know I was interested, but he’d let me leave without a single word. I rub at the ache in my chest. To say I’m disappointed is an understatement. I still think of him as mine. He is mine, whether he knows it or not.

  I finally make it outside. The cool air feels good on my heated skin. Every time I think about Eric, my temperature spikes a degree or two. How hot would it get if we actually touched? If I ran my fingers through his hair like I wanted to. Or wrapped my legs around his body.

 

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