Scoring The Coach ✔️

chapter twenty-seven

Chapter Twenty-Seven

College, much like high school, is nothing like the books and TV shows make you believe. I didn't know what to think when I started my freshman year at Brown. The whole thing was overwhelming, exciting, and pretty much every feeling rolled up in one.

Thankfully, I wasn't doing it alone. It was a hassle petitioning to live off-campus, but it was worth it to be with Jared. He gave me a tour, showed me the soccer complex, and never left my side. I would've been lost without his help.

Soon, it was the first game of the season for the men's soccer team at Brown University. I climbed into the bleachers still sweating from my own practice, wearing my jersey and fresh deodorant. Charlize, one of the girls from the soccer team, sat down beside me.

She widened her eyes and pointed at Jared. "That's your boyfriend?"

I nodded.

She gaped. "I had the biggest crush on him. He was in the same dorm as me sophomore year. You're so lucky."

"I am," I said, genuinely meaning it. I didn't have to brag about him; Jared was just so great he never needed to be boasted about.

We'd gotten out of practice late, which made me far too late for my liking. I was there at the tail end of the game. Jared's eyes met mine for a second, his lips parting to form a giant smile. For all of a second, he held it, then got his head back in the game.

Wrapped up in the match and holding a cold water bottle in my hand, I watched Jared race down the length of the soccer field. He was playing striker instead of goalie, but despite the newness of the position to him, he handled it like a pro. Expertly, his foot collided with the ball and sent it flying through the goal. I'd never seen him play before, and I was so proud that he made the winning shot before time ran out.

The second the referee blew the whistle, he was running to me.

I got up from my seat and met him halfway, hopping up out of instinct.

He took me in his arms so fast I almost couldn't keep up. My legs fell around his hips, fingers threading through his sweaty curls as his salted lips curved around mine.

He pulled away first, kissing my neck as he said, "That was for you, baby. Admittedly, I'm nowhere near as good at the game as you are, but I hope I made you proud."

"You always do!" I said. "You were amazing out there. I wouldn't have suspected you usually play a different position if I didn't know any better. I'm sorry I was so late."

"You're here when it matters," he said. "Besides, who would I be to keep you out of soccer practice?"

"You would be a horrible boyfriend," I teased.

"It's a good thing I'm not."

"Definitely."

He looked so happy to be back on the field that I felt it.

"How about we go out to dinner?" I suggested. "We need to celebrate somehow."

"That sounds like a fantastic idea," he said. "But first, we both really need to take showers. You smell."

"I do not!" I exclaimed, hoping he was messing with me. "I put deodorant on!"

"You're still smelly."

I glared at him. "You just want to shower with me, you pervert."

"It is high on my list of priorities," he conceded.

"You smell too," I said immaturely.

He took me into a bear hug and shoved my face into his jersey. "Breathe it in, baby."