Sidelined (5 page)

Jude leaned on the counter in front of the sink when Levi stepped out of the shower. Arms crossed again. A petulant little-boy frown on his face.

“I built it for Tiffany. It’s what she wanted.” He didn’t meet Levi’s gaze, which made Levi wonder what other secrets his brother was keeping.

“I see. So what happened?” He towel-dried his hair, then wrapped it around his waist, not that Jude seemed all that bothered by his nudity, not that Levi cared what Jude thought since Jude was the one invading his personal space.

“She decided that being the sister-in-law of a famous sports figure wasn’t as glamorous as being the wife of one. She ran off with some asshole who plays for the Braves.”

“I’m sorry, Jude, I didn’t know. I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you.” And he was. Jude never asked him for anything; it wasn’t his fault they had a shitty upbringing. Absent parents. Still absent.

“Doesn’t matter. Better to find out before the divorce, right? I just don’t get how you guys can live with it. Stealing other men’s girlfriends, aren’t there enough women hanging on you—“

“Whoa, bro, back the 'tarred with the same brush' train up before you find my foot planted in a tender part of your anatomy. For the record, not all of us ‘guys’, as you call us, like the attention of the gold diggers. And that’s what your girl was, or she wouldn’t have dumped your ass for bigger fish. Not all of us set out to destroy families and degrade family values. Most of us are just decent hard-working guys trying not to drown in the system.”

“And you never once picked some chick up in a bar just because you are Levi Brody. Or because they wanted to see your Super Bowl rings up close and personal. Did you let that chick you banged last night wear yours while you fucked her? Do we need to check to see if she took one of them with her?”

Levi winced at the bitter pain in his brother’s voice. The anger and betrayal, he understood. He’d walked away from the man he wanted to avoid doing exactly what Jude accused him of.

“No,” he said softly. He stood in front of the long counter beside Jude, facing the mirror. He stared at the back of his brother’s head through the steam. “I can honestly say I’ve never picked up a woman in a bar or anywhere.”

“And the love bites all over your neck just magically appeared out of the blue? I saw a black Cherokee leaving early this morning.”

“Did you see who was driving it? Because I sure as fuck can’t remember what he looked like.” And now the wait began. His chest ached, like someone had reached inside and grabbed his heart and started squeezing. He closed his eyes when Jude turned to face him. And held on to the counter until his fingers hurt.

“Did you say he?” The tone of the question stopped Levi’s heart. He swallowed, waiting for what came next. The anger. The shame. He waited, but Jude didn’t say anything. He didn’t move. He just stood there. Levi could hear him swallow. He opened his eyes and stared at his brother’s profile in the mirror.

“I’m gay, Jude. I’ve never actually slept with a woman. Fooled around with them so that no one would think something was wrong with me, yes. But there it is. The great big secret that I’ve never told anyone.”

Jude started to say something. Levi could hear his mouth open, the small hint of sound in the dead silent trailer as his mouth closed. He knocked on the counter, once, twice. Then turned and walked out of the room. Levi didn’t follow him. He ducked his head and tried not to look too closely at the man in the mirror. The one who let everyone down. Didn’t matter who.

“You should probably worry about that little secret. If you can’t even remember the guy, he’s probably spreading the word all over town that Levi Brody is a cocksucker and a bad lay.” The trailer shook when the door slammed closed.

Fear replaced shame, and Levi slammed his fist through the mirror.

Chapter Four

He heard the rumble before he saw the car. The slick black Challenger pulled up beside his Cherokee and parked. Most of the coaching staff was already here and a few of the kids. A few parents sat in the stands. Practice was always open. The sound of people talking was something they worked on ignoring. Just another part of the whole game. Later the cheerleaders would come in and work on routines on the sidelines. After the sun went down and the temperature dropped a whole five degrees. He knew everything and everyone who set foot on his practice field. And this car didn’t belong here. Any more than the man inside belonged here.

“He’s only a week and one practice late.” Tracy muttered as the set of very tan legs appeared, thighs encased in hot weather practice shorts that hugged every muscle exposed under the lightweight nylon over-shorts. He wore an old Pirate Football T-shirt and a pair of expensive wraparound sunglasses that probably cost more than one month of Tracy’s teaching salary.

“Coach?” The freshman quarterback said as he walked past Tracy. “I didn’t think I was late. Should I take laps or something?” The kid wore a look of terror on his incredibly young face. God, he didn’t remember ever being that green.

“No, kid, you’ve got about a half hour. Go warm up.” Tracy sent him out into the late afternoon heat and stepped back into the cool of the field house to watch as Brody approached his assistant coach, holding out his hand. He could see the speculation on the curious faces out on the field. The way they tapped each other on the arm and leaned in to whisper. Even the parents up in the stands started putting their heads together. “And this just became a goddamned circus.”

Tracy walked back to his office just as the defense coach pointed to the door. He’d meet the man in private. After Friday night, he didn’t know what to do or say. Being called another man’s name—especially THAT name—had left him shaken. Knowing that Brody had passed out after orgasm made him feel like slime on the bottom of the mill pond. The sooner he faced the man and sent him on his way, the better.

Levi Brody filled up his small office. Not his size, there were a couple of seniors on the team bigger than Brody. His presence. The way Tracy could feel him Friday night from across the bar. The same way Tracy felt him all those years ago. In his memories, it was just him and Brody on the field. No one else existed. And right then, the entire world could go to fuck and Tracy wouldn’t notice or care. The realization was like a punch to the gut.

“Coach Wright?” Brody tilted his head to the side, a glimmer of something potent swam in those damned wicked eyes.

“That would be me. What can I do for you, Mr. Brody?” Tracy took the hand he offered. The texture dry, rough, a working man’s hands. Or a football player who preferred not to wear gloves. Brody’s gaze dropped to their clasped hands, a look of shock on his face. And then he moved to the hard metal chair in front of Tracy’s desk, sitting, he crossed one leg over the other. The tattoo on his thigh just barely visible as the tight shorts pulled up. Tracy turned to the filing cabinet so that he wouldn’t be tempted to slide a finger up that thigh and…fuck—

“I owe you an apology. I was unaware that my brother had volunteered me to mentor your boys. My fault—Jude left messages, but I ignored them. And I would like to say that if the position is still available, I’d like to be considered for the job.”

Tracy slammed the cabinet he’d been digging blindly through and turned to take the seat behind his desk. The oh so precise speech made his skin crawl. This wasn’t the man he’d met Friday night with the gutter mouth that begged him to fuck him while taunting and cursing him. This was a PR machine who’d learned to weigh every word out of his mouth.

“I think I liked the Brody I met Friday night better. Maybe if you’d bring him back, I might consider it.”

Brody went very still. His face completely relaxed and completely tense at the same time. Tracy stared him down. He wanted some hint that the man remembered. His right hand moved, long fingers splayed across his face, covering his mouth and his nose. Eyes cinched tight. The foot that dangled began to bounce.

“I met several people Friday night. I can’t remember…it was a bad day—“

“I drove you home from the roadhouse. You live in a trailer behind your brother’s big ugly house.”

“What do you want?” Tracy wasn’t expecting the sudden ice in his voice. Or for him to stand, hand on the back of the chair as he made his way to the door. “Name your price.”

And suddenly it was all clear. Star football player, deep in the closet, he’d probably paid a fortune for silence. Hooking up with Bowen Murphy must have been a small piece of heaven after that.

“I’m not blackmailing you, Levi. I don’t want anyone to know my tastes any more than you do. But I’m not playing games. I went home with you. We did more than talk. It’s on the table. No games. I don’t play. Now have a seat and leave the ESPN voice somewhere else.” He waited while Levi seemed to make up his mind. Once he dropped the shield and relaxed, Tracy laid the file he was mangling on the desk and leaned back. “My name is Tracy. Since you seem to have forgotten it. Usually, I make a better first impression.”

“Did I take something? I don’t usually go around forgetting hot sex. Oh hell, this is awkward as fuck. I should probably go. I’m sorry.” The fidgeting was back, along with the inability to meet Tracy’s eye. But at least the voice was the one that should come out of Brody’s mouth.

“We’ll get past it. I have to ask though, did you forget, I mean…after the I—“

The smile stopped him, Brody’s lush red lips spread wide over white teeth. The promise of pleasure in the pout that followed. Maybe he
should
go. Because Tracy was thinking of incredibly inappropriate things the man could do with those lips. “I remember leaving the mark on your neck. I remember the gorgeous blue eyes. I remember never wanting it to end. I still feel you. If that’s what you want to hear. But the rest is a haze. Maybe if you’d stuck around to see the sun rise.”

Tracy noticed the gashes on his knuckles, which was a miracle since the man couldn’t keep his hands still. His golden gaze flitted around the room, settling on nothing. He never would have guessed that Brody could be a nervous Nelly. Watching his discomfort seemed to bring out the worst in Tracy.

“You called me Bo, while I was still inside you. I figured the bed was already full.” He shrugged as if it meant nothing. Because really, it meant nothing. Just a one-off that would never happen again. Brody became perfectly still. His gaze settled, finally, on his hands in his lap. The scabbed-over knuckles suddenly interesting.

“Well, this has been nice…I hope you have a good season.” Silent and composed, the man rose to his feet again and started for the door. The one standing wide open so that anyone could hear their conversation.

“Dammit, Brody, fight back. Tell me to go fuck myself. Punch me. Do something.” Irrational anger burned in the pit of his stomach. Who the fuck did this asshole think he was?

“What purpose would that serve? It would solidify what you think of me. Some egotistical jerk who has nothing better to do than throw his weight around. Or maybe you’d like to file assault charges. I don’t know you. I don’t know what you want from me. Whatever that is, I can’t give it. I’ll be sure to catch the first home game.” Fire burned in the golden depths when Brody looked at him this time. Impotent rage brewed under the unnaturally placid face. He could see the set of Brody’s jaw, the flex of the scraped knuckles against his thigh.

“Close the door,” Tracy moved quickly from behind his desk before Brody could leave. He pounded the door hard at the same time he dragged Brody inside, pushing him against the now closed panel. Brody had to look up a couple of inches to meet his gaze. Anger burned bright in his eyes. “I don’t know what I think of you. I know what I see on TV. And the drunk, grieving man who kissed me Friday night. Other than that, I don’t know you at all.”

“What do you want from me?” Brody leaned against the door, shoulders tense, indecision clear in his eyes. He didn’t trust him, that was clear. But then Tracy hadn’t given him anything to trust.

“I need a quarterback coach. These boys are going to tear this team apart with their petty fighting. I’ve got two seniors who deserve the starter position. One from here and one from Hillsborough and I can’t referee them long enough to turn them into a functioning squad. Any of them. And as far as I can see, the single most over-qualified person for that job is you.” He placed his hands on the door on either side of Brody’s head, blocking him in. He leaned in so damned close he could feel Brody’s breath without actually touching him. And damn, he wanted to touch. He wanted to do more than touch.

“As much as it pains you, I’m guessing. Listen, Coach, I don’t know what I can do. I started PT down in Mobile this morning. I have a session Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Mornings only. I can be here in the afternoons. Jude didn’t take that into account when he offered my services. And my arm is pretty much dead. I can give pointers, but that’s about it. I came to find out exactly what Jude had promised. Explain my situation. See if there was something we could do with the time I have.” Brody seemed to relax as he talked, maybe it was because Tracy decided to listen.

“I can work with that. With the rain coming in the mornings lately, we’ve been in the weight room at the high school. Not much to do until it stops pouring.” He should step away now. He told himself to move, to stand up, to walk back to his desk, to get his body under control. But Brody’s smile and the way he seemed to be enjoying tormenting Tracy made him stay exactly where he was. Leaning against the door, holding Levi Brody captive and…God, the man smelled delicious.

“Well, since that is settled, was there something else I could help you with, Coach?” Brody tilted his head back just a fraction, his lips forming a delicate pout.

Tracy didn’t stop to think where they were, or that he really didn’t know the man, besides the one night that should never have happened. He leaned over and tasted the pout right off Levi’s mouth. A flick of his tongue across the seam was all it took for Levi to open for him. A whispered sigh escaped his mouth before their lips fused together. Levi rose on his toes to level the playing field, his arms twining behind Tracy’s neck, one hand in his hair, the other limp against his nape.