JOCK (Boston Terriers Book 5) Read online

  JOCK

  Boston Terriers #5

  Jacob Chance

  Copyright © 2018 Jacob Chance

  All rights reserved

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This novel is a work of fiction. While reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to people either living or deceased, business establishments, events or locales is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Any trademarks, service marks, product names or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are only used for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used.

  Cover design by PopKitty Designs

  Edited by Shauna Stevenson

  Proofreading by Hawkeyes Proofing

  This book contains mature content.

  “To live in the past is to die in the present.”

  Bill Bellichick

  Contents

  Prologue

  1. Chapter One

  2. Chapter Two

  3. Chapter Three

  4. Chapter Four

  5. Chapter Five

  6. Chapter Six

  7. Chapter Seven

  8. Chapter Eight

  9. Chapter Nine

  10. Chapter Ten

  11. Chapter Eleven

  12. Chapter Twelve

  13. Chapter Thirteen

  14. Chapter Fourteen

  15. Chapter Fifteen

  16. Chapter Sixteen

  17. Chapter Seventeen

  18. Chapter Eighteen

  19. Chapter Nineteen

  20. Chapter Twenty

  21. Chapter Twenty-One

  22. Chapter Twenty-Two

  23. Chapter Twenty-Three

  24. Chapter Twenty-Four

  25. Chapter Twenty-Five

  26. Chapter Twenty-Six

  27. Chapter Twenty-Seven

  28. Chapter Twenty-Eight

  29. Chapter Twenty-Nine

  30. Chapter Thirty

  31. Chapter Thirty-One

  Epilogue

  Extended Epilogue

  PENALTY

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Prologue

  Owen

  “Guys, it’s third and ten and we’re not in field goal range yet. We need this first down and we’re going to grind it out. Stay with your assignments and don’t let up.” I glance at each one of the offensive linemen. “Nolan needs a chance to break free,” I refer to our running back. “Now, let’s do this and steal the win from them.”

  We line up in formation and I shout out the count. The ball gets snapped into my hands before I hand it off to Nolan. He runs up the middle of the field untouched, and with a slight juke to the left, avoids a tackle. He sprints forward, his legs pumping impossibly fast and in a matter of seconds he charges into the end zone.

  I throw my arms up at the same time the referee signals it’s a touchdown. The crowd jumps to their feet electrified by our team scoring the necessary points to come out victorious. Fireworks explode on the jumbotron.

  The field goal gets kicked and it sails straight through the uprights and the entire stadium erupts with wild cheers. When the final score of twenty-one to fourteen shows on the board the roar of the crowd is deafening.

  Trevor, my closest friend and the team’s tight end, grips me in a bone crushing hug. “We did it, man.”

  “We sure did.” I thump him on the back before everyone congregates around me to celebrate.

  Glancing around the stadium, I take in the crowd standing on their feet cheering for us. Adrenaline courses through my veins and my heart races with excitement.

  High pressure situations like the one we just tackled are my favorite; especially when we come out on top. I feel proud to be the quarterback at such a great school. I only wish my mom was still alive to see it. While the rest of my family members can’t be here, I bet she wouldn’t have missed a game. Tonight was important for the Terriers with us facing off against our biggest divisional rival. This was a big win for our team, and for me.

  Before the game started coach tipped me off that scouts would be here watching. I played solidly, consistently connecting with my receivers, and not throwing any interceptions. Everything went as well as I’d hoped.

  The celebrating tapers down and my teammates begin clearing off the field. Grabbing my helmet from the bench, I rake my sweaty hair back from my forehead and begin to follow behind them.

  “Owen,” Coach calls my name. I freeze in place and turn around to see what he needs. “Come here, son. There’s someone I want you to meet.”

  I glance at the lean man standing next to him and it’s all I can do to hold in the ecstatic grin that wants to bust free. Holy shit. This is really happening.

  “Owen, this is Dave Clarke. He works for the Tennessee Titans.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.” We shake hands, and I make sure my grip is firm like my father taught me.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Owen. Great game.”

  I smile. “Thank you, sir.”

  “Call me, Dave.”

  “Thank you, Dave.”

  “You looked strong out there, and confident. You showed great composure under pressure. Those are qualities I like to see in a quarterback. I’ll be keeping my eye on you. Good luck with the rest of the season.”

  “Thank you, Dave. It’s been an honor to meet you.” I hope my reply isn’t too over the top, but my thoughts are a whirling jumble in my head. They’re a vortex of happiness and adrenaline left over from our win. When I crash later, I’m going to go hard.

  “Dawson, send Lincoln this way if you can.”

  “Sure, Coach.”

  Fighting the urge to run as fast as I can, I force myself to keep my pace even as I jog toward the entrance to the locker rooms. I taper down my need to pump my fist and jump and shout in celebration. This is a huge, positive step toward my goals for the future. I want to play in the NFL, and having scouts watching you is a surefire way for that to become a reality.

  Once I’m in the hallway that leads to the rest of my teammates, I race along the black puzzle piece mats and shout Trevor’s name. After I repeat it twice more, he steps into the hall.

  “What’s up, dude?”

  “Dave Clarke from the Titans is here, and coach wants you to go meet him.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” His tone is incredulous.

  “I’m completely serious. I just met the man, myself.”

  “What’s he like?”

  “T, get out there and see for yourself. Don’t keep him waiting.”

  “Oh, shit. You’re right.” He runs off without another word and I laugh. What a great day this has been. I feel like I’m on top of the world and nothing can knock me down.

  Chapter One

  Owen

  Three days later

  “Sit down,” Coach barks, pointing to the folding chair in front of his desk.

  “Yes, sir.” Immediately, I sink down onto the cold metal, my stomach twisting anxiously.

  Why has he called me into his office?

  We won our game earlier this week and practice went well today. Players don’t get pulled in here for no reason. Judging from his sn
arling tone and the angry scowl darkening his brow, I’ve done something to piss him off.

  But what?

  I give my all on and off the field and get solid grades. I haven’t been drunk in months and I don’t do drugs. I’m on time for practice and I never complain about how hard he works us. If he tells me to ‘jump’, I ask ‘how high’?

  What could be the problem?

  Coach plucks his tablet from the desk and scrolls for a minute. My knee nervously bounces. Is he purposely dragging this out to make me worry more? I crack each knuckle one at a time just for something to do while my eyes remain locked on Coach waiting for him to break the silence.

  He places the tablet down face up and pushes it across the oak desktop. The dragging sound of the backplate against the wood sends a premonitory chill tapping up my spine.

  Gripping each side with one hand at a time, I raise the device closer to my face. Oh, fuck. When I realize there’s no mistaking what I’m staring at, my stomach descends like a hefty boulder in a deep sea. The drop is steady and seemingly endless. Sweat beads on my brow and along my upper lip as I fight the waves of nausea. My hands tremble so severely, the tablet clatters as I set it down. I never imagined this is what he wanted to talk to me about.

  “What? Nothing to say?”

  Slowly shaking my head, my eyes stay pinned to the handful of images on the screen. This is bad. This is so fucking bad.

  “How long has this been going on? And don’t bullshit me.”

  I rake my teeth over my bottom lip and wonder if I should just keep my mouth shut. Why incriminate myself?

  “Owen, if you don’t start talking, you’re going to be in more trouble than you can comprehend.” He leans forward, resting his forearms on his desk. “Son, there’s no way to come out of this situation unscathed. There’s going to be disciplinary action, but if you’re forthright about the details it could go a long way.”

  “And it might make it worse,” I point out swiping my forearm over my damp brow.

  “It doesn’t get much worse than sleeping with your athletic trainer. Did you know she was married?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And you had no qualms about coming between her and her husband?”

  “She told me they were splitting up. That things hadn’t been good between them for years.”

  “Well, if they weren’t already, they might be after this. She’s been dismissed from her position here.”

  “But, she’s the best trainer we have.”

  “I know she was. ‘Was’ being the operative word, because you couldn’t keep your dick in your pants.”

  I grimace. “It wasn’t like that.”

  “Oh Jesus. Don’t tell me you fell in love with her.”

  Do I love her? I rake a hand through my hair. No. “I care for her.”

  “Are you going to answer my question about how long the two of you have been involved?”

  I swallow over the lump in my throat. He’s going to go ballistic when he hears my answer.

  “Well,” he prompts.

  “Six months.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  “No, sir. We started spending time together outside of the gym six months ago.”

  “This wasn’t a once or twice thing. You guys had a full-blown affair.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Goddammit, Dawson. How do you expect me to get you out of this when it went on for months?”

  “I don’t expect you to get me out of it at all. I knew the risk going in.” I just didn’t think we’d get caught.

  “I hope it was worth it,” Coach sighs. His slumped shoulders hint at his displeasure and his eyes are full of disappointment. “It pains me to do this, but you’re stripped of your captaincy for the rest of the season and suspended from the team for the final three games. Unfortunately, that means no post-season play for you either.”

  Fuck. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I fight back the burning sensation stinging the inner corners of my eyes. I’m not a crier, never have been, but football is the love of my life. Without it to keep me grounded and give me purpose every day, I’ll be lost.

  And what kind of impact will my absence have on the team? As the quarterback, they depend on me. And what about my hope of playing for the NFL? Will this blow up into a big scandal that will bleed over into all areas of my life and ruin all chance of my dreams coming true?

  “I’m sorry it has to be this way. You’ve known from day one about the no fraternization clause, and frankly with these pictures floating around, we must make an example of you. If it was merely speculation, or a rumor or two, that would be one thing, but there’s proof right there, in vivid color.”

  My eyes trace over the image of Hannah and I kissing passionately outside her condo. Her hands are clutching my hair and mine are under her shirt. My gaze sweeps to another picture. Hannah is kissing my neck while my hands are tucked in her back pockets, cupping her ass.

  My chest pains at the thought of not seeing her anymore. I’m not in love with her, but I enjoyed our time together. The sex was hot, and the conversations were interesting. She wasn’t looking for anything serious and neither was I. We became friends and being together seemed like the perfect short-term solution for the two of us. Only it continued for much longer than either of us anticipated.

  And now our luck’s run out.

  “Owen, do you have anything you need to say before you go?”

  My eyes jump from the tablet to meet Coach’s. “Only that I am sorry for disappointing you, sir.”

  He nods, his expression solemn. “You’re not allowed at practices or in the locker room, so grab all your gear now. This doesn’t have to ruin your football career. You’ll be back next season, and if you do things right, you can be better than ever.”

  “I’m not so sure. We lost the trainer who helped me the most.”

  “You can put to use all that she taught you. The knowledge you gained will still be there, so take advantage of it.”

  “Are we done, sir?” I don’t want to be rude, but at this point, I want to go home and crash in my room for about a week straight. Maybe if I sleep long enough this gargantuan mess will disappear.

  He tips his head in a quick nod and rises to his feet, extending his hand across the desk toward me. Standing, I clasp hold, my grip firm enough to convey without words that I’ll be okay. I’ll get through this and come out on the other side stronger than ever. At least I hope I will.

  “Take care of yourself, Owen. You’ll be missed around here.”

  “Thanks, Coach.” My voice is hoarse with emotion. Turning, I head toward the door with long strides. I need to get out of this room as soon as possible before the regret smothers me. Approaching from every direction, like walls moving closer, guilt bears down on me until I can barely take my next breath and I’m dizzy. I hate that I let Coach down and as a result, I’m also letting my team down. What are all the guys going to say when they find out?

  I hurry out of Coach’s office, closing the door behind me and pause in the hallway. Bending over I press my palms on my knees and inhale deeply, willing the dizziness to pass. After a few breaths, I straighten up and slowly walk along the black matted hallway to the locker room. I pause outside the doorway to compose my expression, and then walk inside the rowdy space.

  “Everything okay?” Trevor asks.

  Sitting next to him on the bench, I begin to untie my cleats, grunting out ‘yes’.

  “You sure?” he pushes.

  “I said everything’s okay.” My tone is firm. I’m immediately shutting down this conversation. I know his concern is genuine, but I just want to forget about it for now. People will find out soon enough. If I can have the rest of today to come to grips with what’s happened, it might help me be prepared for tomorrow. That’s soon enough for my teammates to be angry with me.

  I change into jeans and a t-shirt, forgoing a shower; I’ll take one later. I know Coach told me to clean out my locker, but if I
do that now, everyone will know something’s wrong. I’ll come back in the next day or two and grab my stuff when no one’s here.

  “Clancy and I are grabbing a couple of beers at C’s if you want to hang out,” Trevor tries again.

  “Nah, man. Thanks, but I have a lot of homework and I’m not feeling great.” Slipping on a Terrier’s ball cap, I tug the bill low, shielding my face.

  “Honestly, you look like shit. Go home and rest.”

  I hold my fist out for him to bump. “That’s the plan.” Scooping up my backpack, I sling it over my shoulder and give Trevor a chin nod. “Talk to you later.”

  “Get some sleep, bro.”

  I slap Nolan’s outstretched hand as I pass by.

  “Later, dude,” he calls out.

  My eyes search for Flynn and I find him peering at another player’s cell phone. Shit. Are they looking at the blog post about Hannah and me?

  Ducking my head, my chin lowers to my chest while I hurry through the door and into the hallway. I avoid looking anywhere but at the black mats on the floor as my long legs eat up the distance to the exit.

  Once I’m outside I exhale with relief, but it’s cut short by the sharp crack of a jarring blow to the back of my skull. My vision goes black for a second, as if a shade has been lowered over my eyes, and I fall to my hands and knees on the pavement as dizziness overtakes me. My limbs are heavy, and my thoughts are slow to form. What the fuck happened?