Twice the Hands to Hold

Chapter 2: Thursday-2

Brian

“Walker!”

“Yeah, Coach.” Brian jogged over to his coach, keeping his head down. He had no idea the lay of the waters after the previous day’s altercation with the new guy. He had no intention of pushing his coach any further.

“Got rid of your excess testosterone yet?”

“Yes, Coach.”

Coach studied him for a moment, before finally continuing. “That temper of yours is going to get you into some deep s**t in life.”

“Yes, Coach.”

“Why do you let your temper get the best of you? You disappoint me every time.”

Brian kept his eyes to the ground. He actually liked Coach, but he was almost sure the feeling wasn’t mutual. He had only been coaching at their school for two years. Brian had researched their new coach after he returned to his old high school to take over coaching the team he’d once starred in himself. Their coach had been a pretty big deal in the professional sports world—almost. While working his way up the NFL ladder a career-ending knee injury had squashed all of Coach’s hopes of making the big time. It made Brian shiver involuntarily every time he allowed his mind to drift there, as the thought did any professional athlete.

Brian respected his coach. He was the closest Brian had been to anyone who had come close to going pro. Yet it always seemed like the guy had it in for him.

Coach needed him, whether Coach liked it or not. Maybe it was the history that was always just at the edge of the tension between them.

He kicked at the dirt, waiting for Coach to finish his rant. Coach and Uncle Jake had been in the same year in school. Apparently he’d had had the hots for Brian’s mom, who’d been a few years his senior. Seemed like Coach had never gotten over her rejection of him. Coach was aware of his preference for ass, any ass, and his brother’s orientation, because of their popularity. Not that he was sure it had any bearing on Coach’s treatment of him, but it all just combined into a pretty shitty deal.

But he was good—no one could match his six o’clock step. He was the coach’s best chance at taking the team all the way, and they both knew it.

Scouts would definitely be out this season, and a negative reference from the coach could derail all his plans…He sighed and kept his eyes to the ground. It didn’t bear contemplation.

“I brought in Oliver to give you a bit of competition. Show you that you still have to work for what you want, even if you’re gifted.” Coach fiddled with a sports supply bag, taking his annoyance out on the zipper. “But for some reason, the kid’s gone and dropped out of the race now.”

Brian tried to keep his face completely neutral. He scowled instead and looked down again.

“So I guess that makes you my quarterback.”

Brian’s face lit up, he couldn’t help it.

“Don’t get cocky,” Coach warned.

“Yes, Coach.” Brian pretended to deflate at the coach’s warning, which seemed to please him.

Walking back to his team, it was difficult to keep the excitement to a minimum with all the loud slaps and cheers of his teammates congratulating him on his huge achievement.

Oliver extended his hand to Brian and congratulated him. Wary green eyes sized Brian up.

Brian left Oliver hanging for a long moment, basking in his discomfort. He took the hand eventually, studying Oliver’s face for the first time. A solid jawline held on to a slight shadow that culminated at a strong chin. Crease lines on either side of thick lips hinted at the possibility of dimples, but Brian suspected there were very few occasions that those dimples were put to good use. He was convinced, however, that whoever Oliver put them to use for, was thoroughly screwed.

“Congrats on the position,” Oliver said.

“Whatever, man,” Brian said. He was surprised Oliver was taking it so well, if he was being honest. His friends’ eyes burned into them, no doubt looking for signs of a continuation of the day before. “Thanks.” Brian shook the hand, no need to be a d**k about it. He loosened his grip to break the hold, but Oliver tightened it and pulled Brian into a wave of spicy aftershave.

Oliver’s smile turned into a sneer as he lowered it to Brian’s ear, “Although we both know the only reason why you got that position, don’t we?” Oliver slapped his shoulder and walked away.

Fucker.