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Hating the Cocky Jock
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Hating the Cocky Jock
B.B. Hamel
Contents
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1. Sean
2. Brynn
3. Sean
4. Brynn
5. Sean
6. Brynn
7. Sean
8. Brynn
9. Sean
10. Brynn
11. Sean
12. Brynn
13. Sean
14. Brynn
15. Sean
16. Brynn
17. Sean
18. Brynn
Also by B.B. Hamel
About the Author
Copyright © 2019 by B. B. Hamel
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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1
Sean
“You see that sexy new young reporter?”
Felix grins at me from across the locker room. I glance up from lacing my spikes and frown.
“You mean Brynn?” I ask. “The girl from the Fargo Pioneer?”
“Yeah, the one with the fat ass.” Felix grins at me. “I’m gonna hit that shit.”
I clench my jaw and go back to lacing up my shoes. I know Felix is all about talking shit, but for some reason, hearing him say that about Brynn drives me insane.
It shouldn’t. I mean, it’s not like I have some kind of claim over her or something. We talk after practice sometimes, and she makes me laugh, and she has a nice smile, gorgeous hair, great tits, a fantastic ass…
But it’s not like I fucking own her. Felix can say whatever he wants about Brynn.
Except Felix is an asshole. I’ve seen him rip through girls, fuck them and leave them, even do some pretty heinous shit like show us nudes they’ve sent him.
He’s the star wide receiver for our professional football team, the Fargo Chainsaws. I’m the starting quarterback, so I have to have a pretty good relationship with everyone on my team, especially the guys catching my passes. Felix is decent enough, we’re friends and all, but…
Felix isn’t the kind of guy I’d want my daughter to date, let’s put it that way.
Brynn isn’t my daughter, though. Far from it.
I take a breath, trying to get this stupid daughter metaphor out of my brain, when Patrice, the starting running back, speaks up.
“Sean, didn’t you hit that already?” he asks me.
I look up, surprised. I hadn’t heard this rumor yet.
“No shit?” Felix asks before I can answer.
“Heard he took her home after that meet and greet two weeks ago,” Patrice adds.
“Makes sense. I saw you two fucking flirting, you damn slut,” Felix says, laughing.
I sit there, a little stunned. I go to speak up, but Patrice beats me to it.
“You don’t wanna touch that, man,” Patrice says. “I bet Sean ruined her, bro. Better leave it alone.”
“Shit,” Felix says, sighing dramatically. “I bet he did. I hear Sean’s a fucking pussy slayer.”
“My man here can wreck it,” Patrice agrees.
Felix gives me an appraising look. “All right, Sean, I see you, man. I’ll step off the girl, since you got first dibs and all.”
“Only fair,” Patrice says, nodding.
Felix goes back to getting dressed and I just sit there, totally stunned.
By the time I even think to speak up, the conversation’s moved on.
I don’t know how that just happened. I mean, I’m happy Felix isn’t going to go after Brynn anymore. I’d hate to see her get hurt because of that asshole.
But I never slept with her. I never took her home.
Sure, we were talking at the meet and greet. I was flirting with her a little bit too, I’m not going to lie.
But we never left together. Patrice got that all wrong.
I shake my head and go back to getting dressed. We’re due on the field in five and I’m not about to piss off coach by being late.
Fuck it, whatever. Felix can think I slept with Brynn. It doesn’t matter. I never said I did, anyway, he’s just assuming because of stupid fucking Patrice.
God damn it. What a stupid mess. I know this is going to come back and bite me in the ass, but right now, I’m just happy Brynn is safe from fucking Felix.
I finish dressing and we trot out onto the field for on-field practice. It’s around eleven forty-five, and I’ve been at the facility since six. We ate breakfast, broke out into individual team meetings, an overall team meeting, did weightlifting, and did some rehab on my shoulder. Now it’s time to go over the plan for the upcoming game this weekend.
This part of the practice is closed to the media. We don’t want them to see what we’re planning on doing, in case they’re stupid enough to report on it. Coach Wood runs us through drills, barking orders at his position coaches, who then bark orders at the players.
This goes on for a few hours. I’m given a little rest, which means I don’t take any hits, and my throwing is kept to a minimum. Mostly I’m watching the plays, going over strategy with Coach, and basically keeping involved.
By the time practice is over, it’s time for the media shit.
I’m drinking some water, a towel around my neck, when the gates open around one thirty in the afternoon.
“Here comes the stampede,” Alan comments. He’s a shorter guy, pale skin, red hair. He plays slot receiver, and we have a good relationship.
“Look at them go,” I say, as the media comes trampling in.
Alan sighs. “They really don’t care, do they?”
“Nope,” I say, laughing.
The media looks like a stampede. We mean that literally. They all run into the place, looking like morons, each jostling the person next to them in hopes that they’ll get to interview one of the top players.
“Good luck,” Alan says as he heads off toward the locker room. He’ll have a camera shoved in his face soon enough.
I slip out behind a few line men and dodge the initial wave of reporters. The coaches are all busy talking with multiple microphones in their faces as I slip past the herd and head toward the side.
I spot Brynn right away. She’s smiling as Felix says something to her. She laughs and puts her microphone down.
“Oh, shit,” Felix says as I approach. “Here’s your man now.”
She raises an eyebrow. I give him a look.
“Hey, Brynn,” I say.
“Sean, how are you feeling today?”
“He feels fucking great,” Felix cuts in, rubbing my shoulders with a cocky grin. “He’s a fucking champ, you know that?”
I sigh and nod serenely. “He’s right. Although he’s just sucking up so I’ll throw him the ball more.”
Felix laughs. “Fuck, yes, I am. Anyway, I’ll leave you two kids alone.” He winks and wanders off.
Brynn smiles, a little confused. “Oookay, that was weird. Anyway, how’s it going?”
I turn to look at the pretty young reporter. She’s shorter than me, maybe five foot five at most, wearing a smart little blazer, a white shirt, a necklace, and slim jeans. She looks more casual than a lot of the other reporters here, although she is one of the few females, and definitely the youngest.
Her smile lights my day up. She’s fucking gorgeous, and it hits me all over again just how pretty she is. Seriously, of all the people here, she’s by far the most attractive woman.
Hell, she’s the
most attractive woman in any fucking situation. Perfect breasts, round ass, beautiful lips, deep blue eyes, pale skin, long dark hair. She’s everything I look for in a girl and then some.
And apparently Felix thinks I fucked her already.
Well, shit. Might as well try and make that a reality, at least.
“What was that all about?” she asks.
I wave it away. “Nothing. Just Felix being himself.”
She raises her microphone. “How are you and your number one receiver getting along?”
“Great,” I say, falling into interview mode. “He’s a solid guy with an amazing skillset. I’m happy to have him on the team.”
“And how’s your shoulder holding up? I’ve heard some rumors.”
I grin at her. “You started some rumors, you mean.”
She laughs. “Really, it’s not bothering you?”
“Not at all,” I say. “I’m back to perfect health and I’m ready to make a serious run into the playoffs.”
She arches an eyebrow. “Talking playoffs already?”
“I’m confident, Brynn,” I say. “You know me. I don’t bullshit. I think this is the best team we’ve ever had.”
“It’s only the third year this team has existed,” she points out.
“Good point, but still.”
She laughs and lowers her microphone. “Okay, I think that’s enough.”
“You’re not writing some kind of hit piece, are you?”
“Not at all,” she says. “I’m a fan, remember?”
“I know, that’s what you always say. I think you’re just a fan of me.”
She laughs a little. “I’m a fan of the whole team. And I support my QB.”
“I know you do. Can’t help yourself. That’s why you’re always first out on the field after practice, you want to make sure you get me all nice and sweaty.”
She rolls her eyes. “Hardly. It’s not like you do anything out there but yell and look pretty.”
“I knew you thought I was pretty.”
She sighs, smiling but exasperated. “You’re always like this, aren’t you?” she asks.
“Only with the pretty reporters.”
“I’ve seen you flirt with Jeb over there,” she says, nodding at a guy from KXRW Sports Radio, an overweight gentleman with no hair and a penchant for chewing tobacco.
I shrug. “Jeb has very shapely calves.”
“Oh, gross.”
“Yours are better, don’t worry.”
“Thanks. You’re so sweet.”
I laugh and step closer to her. “Listen, I want to ask you something off the record.”
“Okay,” she says.
I look deep into her pretty blue eyes and she stares back up at me. For a second, the field is empty. The herd disappears, the general noise of players answering the same inane questions disappears, and it’s only Brynn standing in front of me.
“Let me take you out,” I say softly. “We can do dinner tonight.”
She hesitates. There’s a hint of surprise in her expression, but she quickly looks away. “I can’t,” she says.
“Can’t? You got plans?”
“I mean, I can’t date players.” She looks back up at me. “Especially not cocky ones like you.”
I laugh softly. “I’m hardly cocky.”
“You’re all cocky. Even just assuming I’d say yes is arrogant.”
I smirk, crossing my arms. “I don’t think it’s arrogant to notice the way you look at me.”
She sighs and shakes her head. “See, that’s what I mean. I love sports, but athletes are a bunch of assholes.”
I laugh at that. I can’t exactly disagree. “Come on. You spend your time staring at me and hoping for an interview.”
“You’re the quarterback, of course I want to talk to you!”
I smirk at her again. “Okay then. If that’s how you want to play it, you can pretend like you don’t want to come out with me.” I step closer and she blinks. “But I think you’re going to change your mind.”
“Doubt it,” she says softly.
I laugh again and walk away. I should feel rejected, but I don’t, not at all.
I just feel excited.
Maybe I am a little more like Felix than I realized. I love the chase, I love trying to win her over. I know she already wants me, I can see it in her eyes every time we talk. It’s just a matter of getting her to realize it, too.
And she will, sooner or later.
I don’t have time to dwell on this much more, though. As soon as I walk away from Brynn, a bunch of reporters come swarming over to me. I have to put on a smile and start speaking to the herd.
But out of the corner of my eye, I can see Brynn watching me with a little smile on her face.
2
Brynn
I hate professional athletes.
That’s maybe an overstatement. I mean, I make my money off the guys. I went into sports journalism because I love sports, plain and simple. I played lacrosse in high school and a little soccer in college before I decided to quit to focus on my studies. Well, I also wasn’t starting, but whatever.
When they’re on the field, athletes are amazing. They’re graceful, incredible. They can do things I never thought possible and make it look totally easy. I fell in love with sports while watching Sunday night football with my dad when I was a little girl, and I just couldn’t shake the magic I felt back then.
Now though, I realize something important.
Athletes are a bunch of cocky jock assholes.
It’s just the truth. As much as I want to deny it, they’re all the same. I mean, some of them are worse than others. Sean isn’t so bad, as far as athletes go. He’s arrogant, but at least he’s not obnoxious like Felix.
Still, I can’t get involved. No, I won’t get involved. I don’t care that Sean’s tall, handsome, intelligent, funny, exciting, and kind. I don’t care if he ticks off all my boxes and sometimes, alone in my bed at night, I think about him when I slip my hand down my panties to relieve a little stress.
I don’t care. I can’t get involved.
I just won’t do it.
It was tempting when he asked me out. I mean, I could easily just say yes and see how it goes. There’s no harm in that, right?
But I can already hear the rumors. I’m a woman in a male-dominated field. If I get involved with an athlete, especially the QB of the team I’m assigned to cover, I’ll never hear the end of it.
I know what they’ll say. I’ll be called a slut, a whore, and worse. They’ll say I’m just fucking him to get a better story. It won’t matter if I’m really into him, if we get married and have a million babies.
I’ll always be the whore that gave it up for a story.
I can’t risk that. I want a career in this field, one that’ll last for more than a season or two. I want to achieve things, and if I let myself fall prey to all this toxic bullshit masculinity, I’m screwed.
So I have to stay away from that cocky jock, no matter what.
I don’t see Sean for the rest of the week, which disappoints me more than I thought it would. I mean, I did kind of reject him, so I figured it would be awkward to run into him again and have to ask him more questions.
Instead, I actually miss him a little bit. Maybe not the cocky attitude, but the joking, the teasing. I don’t laugh with anyone else like I do with him.
That’s an odd thought, actually. Even in my real life outside of sports, nobody makes me laugh like Sean does.
It’s not unusual that I don’t see him. Nobody gets to talk to Sean all week. Teams love to keep their franchise QB away from the spotlight as much as possible. I don’t know why, probably to keep them all mysterious or whatever. Coaches always say it’s to keep the QB concentrating on the game ahead, but that’s bullshit.
At any rate, I go into Sunday anticipating a great game, and Sean gives me one. They come back during the last quarter to win by a field goal in a really dramatic moment.
When it’s over, reporters stream onto the field, shoving cameras and microphones into players’ faces. I try and find Sean, but can’t spot him through the sea of burly assholes.
Instead, I spot Felix, and make a beeline toward him.
He grins as I approach. “There’s my girl,” he says as I hold up my microphone.
“Hi, Felix,” I say. “Can I ask you some questions?”
“Give it to me, girl.”
We run through a pretty typical interview. Felix can be pretty charming when he wants to be and he really seems to understand how the media game is played. His answers are short and sweet but show a little personality.
When we’re done, he leans in toward me. “So, you looking for your boy?”
“My boy?”
“Sure, Sean’s around here somewhere.” He winks at me. “Gonna go home with him again?”
“Home with him… again?”
“Don’t worry, girl,” he says, laughing. “It doesn’t matter to me who you hang around with, you know? I’m just saying, Sean’s cool and all, but you’re missing out.”
“Missing out?” I feel like I’m missing out right now. What the hell is he talking about?
“If only you came home with me, you’d know how it really goes.” He winks and turns to leave.
“Wait! I went home with Sean?”
“Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.” He laughs. “Although it’s not much of a secret since the whole locker room knows.” He walks away without another word, getting sucked into another media interview.
I’m left standing there on the field, feeling completely alone.
What just happened? I never went home with Sean, hell, I even turned him down. I never hooked up with anyone on the team.
And now there’s a rumor going around, saying that I did?