On the Defense by Piper Rayne

Author:Piper Rayne [Rayne, Piper]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Piper Rayne Inc.
Published: 2023-09-05T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 5

COOPER

I think Elle is trying to slowly kill me.

She looks like a Colts fan, all decked out in red and blue, but her shorts are too short and her shirt is too tight. It’s driving me crazy every time she leans over to whisper in my ear and her tit brushes against my arm.

I’ve attended many baseball games on these rooftop bleachers and she’s never worn something so revealing. My fists have clenched so many times from watching other guys check her out. I’m one more ogle away from hauling off and hitting someone. But I can just see the tabloids. I’ve been there and done that before, only to almost ruin my chances of being where I am today. Lucky for me, my dream came true, but Coach Stone would not be okay with me ending up in the press for fighting.

“I’m going to get another round. You girls want something?” I ask Elle and Bryce, eager to breathe again.

“I’m assuming they aren’t so restrictive up here about drinks?” Bryce asks hopefully.

“One day, I’m getting Ruby to serve a seltzer.” Elle puts her hands in a position like she’s mimicking swearing on a Bible, causing her T-shirt to inch up and reveal more skin my hands itch to explore.

“Yeah, what do you want?”

“Lime seltzer would be great. I don’t care what brand.” Bryce shrugs.

I wait for Elle to answer, but she holds up her beer. “I’m good.”

Elle’s not really a drinker. The last time I saw her drunk was in college and that’s a story for another time.

Walking down the stairs into the bar area, I spot Siska leaving with the brunette he was sitting with. I swear, only that guy can pick up a girl before the seventh-inning stretch.

I decide to head to the bathroom before grabbing the drinks, and a redhead plows right into me, coming out of the ladies’ room.

“Excuse me,” I say.

She looks up and her eyes go wide. “You people are everywhere. What the hell?” She shakes her head and walks away, back up the stairs to the rooftop.

“Okay then.”

I walk into the bathroom, do my business, wash my hands, and leave. At the bar, the usual bartender, Zed, is working. He pours me my usual beer and slides it across the top.

“And a lime seltzer,” I order.

He nods, grabs the drink, and rests his elbows on the bar afterward. “What’s up? You look depressed.”

I stare at his tatted sleeves and rebel exterior and wonder what I might have become if I wasn’t a professional quarterback. What if that band I’d had in high school would’ve been something more than just a garage band? What if the art teacher had pushed me harder? I’ve been a football player since I joined peewees at the age of six.

“Nothing. Just a boring game. The Colts are actually winning and it’s such a blowout there’s not much action.”

He nods toward the televisions above him. “Easton Bailey is, like, three for three today. He had something to prove, and he came out and proved it.

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