30. Bryant

Walking out of the church basement, I check my phone for messages. None. I keep walking down the path, waving but not stopping to chat with anyone. I"m starting to recognize faces, even just in the past week. The meetings have given me something to focus on other than the lack of communication with Jack, but I don"t feel like dawdling or talking to anyone else.

I didn"t realize how used to his presence I"d gotten. It's not just the sex. It's sitting in my office over lunch, going over game footage; having someone to challenge me through workouts. Watching ESPN in bed.

His absence is a gaping hole, and even just after a week, I feel like I"m going crazy. The only time I see him is on the field, and other than the occasional long eye contact across the field, he barely acknowledges me.

Jack has, unsurprisingly, been nominated for the Heisman Trophy this year. We haven"t been able to celebrate further than a quick clap on his shoulder when I made the announcement after practice last night. I"m not sure if I"ll get a chance to talk to him on the flight to New York City for the awards banquet and announcement of the winner. I know, without a doubt, that he"s going to win. I want to tell him how proud I am of him, without making it weird. I said too much the night he found me drunk. I gave away too much.

He said he loved me too, but he seems to be having an easier time moving past it.

He"s been spending a lot of time with her—Aniyah. I don"t know what happened between them or how he"s keeping her quiet, but nothing has happened yet other than the two of them have apparently become Groveton's hottest new power couple. It has me on edge. Every moment, I"m waiting for someone to walk through my door and escort me from campus. I have nightmares about it, about press conferences and hitting rock bottom. The worst part is worrying how it will affect Jack.

I still have my statement typed up and signed. I carry it with me everywhere I go, in case today is the day.

Six feet away. That"s how far he"s sitting from me right now. One row up and across the aisle. She is closer, sitting on the aisle seat like some kind of sentry, knowing that I"d have to reach over her to get to him. Knowing how badly I just want to reach out and feel his body heat.

I"m fucking pathetic. I"m a grown ass, almost fifty-year-old man, simpering over someone less than half my age. He turns twenty-one next month. I wonder how he"ll celebrate.

My neck stretches to look over the seats. All I can see from this vantage point is the top of his head. He's buzzed his hair short again. I feel like it"s more proof that we"re over, because I know he kept it long on top for me. So I could rake my hands through it, grip it tightly in my fist while I used his mouth for my pleasure.

"Would you like another bourbon, sir?" The flight attendant moves into the aisle next to me, blocking what little view I have and thankfully breaking me out of my inappropriate thoughts before anyone notices.

I reposition the suit jacket I have laying over my lap and nod. "One more, and then I"m cutting myself off. Thank you."

She smiles down at me, pouring a little airplane bottle of Maker"s Mark over ice. Her hair and makeup are so pristine she could be a walking Barbie doll. She looks a little like my ex wife, actually. Except maybe nicer.

I"ve been thinking a lot about Penny. I read an article yesterday that she gave birth to her third child with my former friend and teammate, Vance Mitchells. They seem happy together, and it made me glad for her. Through all of this, I"ve made some big realizations. Whereas before I was filled with bitterness over her leaving me to chase the lifestyle she wanted, I would have been more miserable with her than I was alone. I now know I never actually loved her, and she obviously didn"t love me.

The reason I know I didn"t really love her is because I didn"t know what that feeling was until now.

That terrible, painful, overwhelming gnawing inside my chest whenever I see Aniyah lean over to whisper in his ear? As mad as I was about Penny leaving me for Vance, I didn"t feel this way about it.

And the way my chest fills like a hot-air balloon whenever I see him walk into a room, or out on the field, and I get to share space with him. I never felt that way about her. About anyone.

The flight attendant hands me my glass and moves up the aisle, checking on the needs of the other first-class passengers. As she clears out of the space between us, I notice Jack looking at me. His gaze drops to the glass in my hands, and then back up at my eyes. I see his concern. I"m fine, though. I haven"t had more than one or two drinks here and there while out celebrating with the rest of the coaching staff, and I haven"t been drinking at home at all. But he doesn"t know that. Doesn"t need to know.

He whispers something in Aniyah"s ear and kisses her on the cheek. My stomach twists, but his eyes hold my gaze as he gets up from his seat and walks past me, presumably to the restroom. Following him would be too obvious, and despite the fact that he was just making eye contact with me for the first time in days, I didn"t get the feeling he was asking me to. Don"t be pathetic, Bryant.

The plane hits a spot of turbulence, and my hand bumps against the armrest. Bourbon splashes out of the glass and all over my hand. It isn"t much, but I should probably wash my hands. I hand the glass to the flight attendant, who hurries over with napkins, and walk to the back of the plane. Not following him. Just not wanting to smell like booze when we land and meet the journalists and other bigwigs that will be waiting for us when we land.

As I"m opening the curtained area where the restrooms are, Jack is starting to make his way out. He steps back out of my way, and I go to close the curtain behind me, but he holds it open.

"She"s watching," he says, but then quickly pulls back and kisses the side of my mouth. It happens so fast I could almost think I imagined it, and then he"s gone, walking back down the aisle like nothing happened.

My eyes are glued to his back, confusion pulling my brows together. Then I notice the young brunette watching me watch him, a smug look on her face at the way Jack seems to be ignoring me, and I close the curtain.

Loud applause fills the room after Jack Perry is announced as the winner of this year"s Heisman Trophy Award. I watch as he stands and shakes hands with the other contenders, graciously accepting congratulations from his would-be competitors. No one is surprised, except for maybe Jack. As cocky as the bastard is, he still doesn"t seem to believe the track to stardom he"s on.

Before he walks up to the stage to accept the award and make his speech, he turns around and heads to where I"m sitting.

Correction. To where she is sitting. He lifts Aniyah up in a big hug and whispers something in her ear, while she stares up at him with stars in her eyes. He shakes hands with everyone sitting around us, the other coaches and random strangers. When he gets to me, he grips my hand tightly and pulls me in for a one-armed hug.

"Thank you for everything, Coach," he says loudly enough for everyone to hear. But then he lowers his voice and whispers, "I"m sorry."

After giving Aniyah one last kiss on her cheek, he runs up to the stage, where everyone starts applauding again.

"Thank you so much for this great honor. I know I already wasted some of your time by going back to kiss my girl and thank my coach, but I have to give credit where it"s due. Coach Bryant Nicks is the one that gave me the chance that changed everything for me. I"m a nobody from the backwoods of Alabama, and he and the coaches at Groveton saw something in me. I"ll never forget that," he says, and looks me in the eye with what looks like sadness. Or pain. "This month is about to be the biggest month of my life so far. Thanks to all of you, I was chosen to win this prestigious award, I"m playing in the Texas Bowl in Houston a few weeks from now, the Groveton Jackals are on our way to a national championship… and I"ll be spending the holidays with the most beautiful girl on my arm, who's told me she"ll follow me wherever I go next."

He winks at Aniyah, who yells out, "I love you, baby!"

The crowd erupts in awws and applause, and Jack stays up there for another few minutes to finish his speech. I don"t hear another word. Everything spins around me and I feel like there"s cotton in my ears. How anyone else could hear that as anything but a threat feels insane to me. Instead, he looks so genuine, especially when he jumps off the stage, trophy in hand, and Aniyah meets him halfway. She throws her arms around him, looking for all the world like the happiest girl on earth.

"You"re mad." His voice comes from behind me, following me into the restroom.

"Shouldn"t you be posing for pictures?" I realize how it sounds when it comes out of my mouth and take a breath. "I don"t mean that as a jab. I"m serious. You"ll be taking photos and doing interviews for hours."

"I did a bunch and asked for a quick break, gave them the idea that my stomach hurts, so the staff directed me to this bathroom. They said it"s less busy. I didn"t even know you were back here," he says defensively. I was kind of enjoying the idea that he"d followed me back here, despite my protests. "I"m not great with crowds," he huffs.

"Me either," I chuckle. An awkward silence hangs over us, and I shove my hands in my pockets. I didn"t even need to use the restroom. I just wanted to get away. Because he"s right, I am upset. And I couldn't watch her hanging all over him like she was the trophy he should be so proud of.

"I"m sorry."

"It"s fine. I"m happy for you."

"It"s not like that, Brya?—"

"Coach," I correct him quickly. Lowering my voice, I add, "anyone could walk in here."

"If it wouldn"t get you in trouble, I wouldn"t give a fuck."

"You don"t know what you"re saying."

He"s too young to understand the full weight of the consequences of what he"s suggesting. I"m too old to let him throw his life away for me.

"I—"

"Shut the fuck up, Jack," I growl, cutting him off.

He grits his teeth and gives me a defiant look that spells trouble. The very one that makes my blood rush hot through my veins. My baby bulldog. He steps towards me, and I take a step back.

"Don"t," I warn him. My cock is throbbing, tenting my slacks so much that my suit jacket can"t do anything to cover it up.

A glint of malice shines in his eye as he smirks and crosses the space between us in two long strides. He grabs my face and presses our mouths together, and I fold so quickly, I barely even put up a fight. The moment his tongue touches mine, I"m a fucking goner. It"s been too long, I"ve been so alone, I"ve been wanting him too much.

I have the wherewithal to move us into a stall before Jack is unbuttoning my pants to pull out my cock. He gets down on his knees and I have a brief moment of conscience where I realize that I"m letting a student blow me in the bathroom, but then his mouth is on me and I hiss.

"Fuck, your mouth feels so good."

Nothing should feel this good. There"s only one thing that would feel better.

"Spit all over my dick, baby. Get me good and lubed up."

Jack moans around my cock before slobbering all over it. His shoulders move with the effort of unbuckling his own pants, and they drop when he stands to kiss me. He slips off his jacket and throws it over the edge of the stall door. I ravage his mouth before spinning him around and pushing him roughly against the wall. The stall is too small for our large bodies in here together, so I have to position him towards the corner of the stall door and hope I don"t fall in the goddamn toilet. Jack"s hands automatically place themselves up on either side of the wall, and I know I don"t have to tell him to keep them there. He fucking knows.

"This is going to be quick and rough, Jack. You know better than to test me."

"Make it hurt, Coach."

Fuck. Me. You"re goddamn right I will.

I line myself up and bury myself to the hilt in one hard thrust. Jack lets out a choked burst of air with the impact.

Pulling almost all the way out, I ask him, "You get off on dangling your little girlfriend in front of me, baby bulldog?" He doesn"t get a chance to answer before I"m thrusting back in. A grunt of pain and pleasure escapes him, and the sound sets me off. I start rutting into him like an animal, not caring how loudly our skin is smacking together, echoing off the bathroom walls, or how we"re shaking the sides of the stall. I fuck him so hard he doesn"t have a choice but to whimper and grunt and gasp for air. I fuck him so hard I know he"ll be feeling it for days.

"Every fucking time you sit down, I want you to remember who fucking owns this ass, Jack."

Our bodies are bouncing off each other, the force of my thrusts turning his perfect fucking round ass red.

"Jerk yourself, Jack. Stroke that perfect fucking cock and tell me who fucking owns you."

"Ahhh fuuck. Yessss," is all that comes out of his mouth. So I smack the side of his ass, hard.

"Tell me, Jack."

"You do. You own me, Coach."

You"re fucking right, I do. This ass is mine.

"Come for me, Jack. Fucking milk my cock so you can go out there and put on your little show and pretend you didn"t just get the shit fucked out of you by my fat cock."

"Fuuuck!" Jack shouts, far too loudly, but I"m too overcome by the feeling of him pulsing around me to focus on anything else.

When I pull out, I keep a hand on his ass, waiting for the first signs of my cum to start trickling out of him. It"s my favorite sight, and also the reason I can"t blame him for having those pictures on his phone. Because even after everything that's happened, I still have the picture of Jack"s asshole on my phone, my cum dripping out.

"There it is," I say appreciatively, and use my fingers to swipe the first trickle out and push it back inside. "Clean yourself up, but leave your ass sloppy. I want my cum dripping out of you while you shmooze all these assholes and try to get hard for your little girlfriend after remembering how good I fuck you."

I bite the back of his neck, enough to leave it red, but not enough to be too obvious. Then I pull up my pants and squeeze out of the stall, leaving him messy and panting. I wash my hands and leave just as someone walks down the hall to check on him.