Teach You to Love Me (Lindon U #4)

Chapter Seven

CHAPTER SEVEN

Rachel

I t takes less than five minutes to see that Daniel Bridges Junior is going through it. “How is your shoulder?” I ask him as he rolls it. Something pops, making him wince.

The team’s wide receiver, or I suppose former wide receiver since his injury took him out indefinitely, sinks into the chair. “Hurts like a bitch sometimes.”

“Do they need to do a second surgery?”

He had one in December, and I know he’s had to do some physical therapy and exercises on his own time to help the recovery process. “No, they don’t think that’s necessary. I go back for a checkup in a couple weeks to make sure.”

I’m not used to him being so solemn. “I’m going to cut to the chase because you’re not being yourself. Where is the hyper boy who was always bouncing off the walls when we first met?”

He stares down at his lap, lifting his good shoulder in a half-shrug. “There’s been a lot going on, Rach. That’s all.”

There’s more to it than that. “Is it because of your shoulder? I know you were upset you couldn’t finish the season with the team.”

Daniel scowls, his face scrunching up as he keeps his eyes facing his lap. “It’s not even a team anymore. Not like it was.”

My brows arch inquisitively. “Why do you say that? Because Aiden and Justin aren’t on it anymore?”

He hesitates, his fist scrunching and uncrunching over the arm of the chair. “Because Pearce isn’t doing shit to make it one,” he replies coolly.

Slowly, I nod. I’ve heard some murmurings that Daniel has been picking fights with the head coach. Nobody seems to know the reason why. Or if they do, they aren’t sharing. “Okay…What do you mean, exactly?”

He sighs, finally meeting my eyes. “It doesn’t take a genius to see that Wallace is Pearce’s new favorite. He’s always had them. With Griff gone, he needed somebody new to focus on. But Wallace is a prick who thinks he can get away with anything, and—” His face gets all red, and the tendons in his neck pulse.

“Take a deep breath,” I tell him gently.

Daniel takes a few seconds before inhaling and closing his eyes to exhale.

“Look, I know Ricky isn’t a fan favorite among the guys,” I begin, getting a dry snort from him in return. “But he’s still on the team. Is there something that happened that you want to talk about? Because you’ve never been the type to get yourself involved in petty drama just because of somebody’s ego before.”

He’s quiet, his jaw grinding from the question. Which tells me I’m right. There is something. And I don’t know why he isn’t telling me when I’ve always tried to be on their side.

“DJ,” I say carefully, earning me another glance. I rarely, if ever, call him that. It’s the nickname for him only the boys use. “You can talk to me. I’m here to help, remember?”

His fingers tap against the armchair for a minute before he abruptly stands. “Wallace isn’t a good guy. That’s what’s wrong. And Pearce isn’t doing shit about it.”

“Maybe I can talk—”

“No. I’ll figure it out on my own.” He walks out the door without another look in my direction, leaving me gaping at the empty chair that he occupied.

I blink.

Then blink again.

“Okay,” I say slowly, shaking my head.

A few hours later, when Caleb comes to a one-on-one about grad school applications, I ask him about Daniel. The frown I’m greeted with tells me it’s even worse than I anticipated.

And when he tells me the rumors he’s been hearing about Wallace possibly drugging girls at parties, my stomach dips. Could Couch Pearce really know about that and not do anything just because Ricky is his newest protégé?

I make him the same promise I do to Matt. That I’ll look into it. Because I can tell Caleb is worried about Daniel as much as I am.

After that, we discuss his future plans.

Grad school and Anders Hardware. I help him with applications, and he goes on his way.

Matt doesn’t show up for his meeting, so I pack up and go home after twenty-five minutes of waiting around.

*

Two days later, I knock on Coach Pearce’s office door to see him going over something on his computer.

The fifty-two-year-old man is married despite his cool demeanor, which makes his personality a little lacking. This makes me wonder what his home life is like since he’s so stoic here.

I’ve had plenty of bosses who intimidated me in the past, like the middle-aged woman going through a mid-life crisis who ran the frozen yogurt shop when I was sixteen or the creepy old guy who constantly made passes at the waitstaff who managed the diner I worked at when I was eighteen. I’m used to dealing with easily agitated people, so this time is no different.

“Coach Pearce?” I say, feeling a little uncomfortable. I have a plan. Not a great one, but a plan, nonetheless.

The man behind the desk doesn’t look up when he grunts out, “What is it?”

Hesitating, I step into his office. “I was hoping to talk to you about a couple of things. I know that two of the players have birthdays during summer break, so I was thinking we could do something for them before the semester officially ends since they’ve celebrated each other’s birthdays throughout the season. That way, nobody feels left out. We could order some pizza and maybe do a cake.”

Coach Pearce pauses what he’s doing, looking over at me. “Rachel, right?”

I nod slowly. We’ve worked together long enough to know one another’s name. “Yes, sir.”

“Well, Rachel, this isn’t Chuck E. Cheese; this is a college. I’m sure the boys will have their own parties on their off time. They’ll have an entire summer to celebrate.”

I’d expected as much, so I wet my lips and try to convince him otherwise. “I get that, but I read this article once about how important it is to boost morale by—”

“Does it look like I care?”

No. No, it doesn’t. Still, I try. “If you don’t want to do something for their birthdays, we could do something for the team. Like a team dinner. It can be a bonding experience. I’ve heard about the tension between some of the players. It seems like there’s a lot of intensity between Ricky Wallace and—”

“It’s not your job to concern yourself with my players,” he cuts me off pointedly.

I swallow down my words. For a second.

“Isn’t it my job to ensure they’re on their best behavior? Doing their work? Getting good grades? Being present on the field? If there are things going on off the field, it translates to their playing time. We’ve both seen the impact outside drama brings into the games.”

Coach Pearce stares at me like I told him we should hire strippers before the game. Which I’m sure they would like a lot more than a pizza party, but that’s beside the point. “When I said I needed a new athletic adviser, it wasn’t so they could plan parties for my players. The boys can do that all on their own. All I need from you is to make sure they pass their classes so I don’t have to kick them off the team. Not butt into business that isn’t yours or host shit that’s unnecessary. Is that understood?”

Pressing my lips together, I nod once at his scathing reprimanding.

“And a little advice,” he says, turning back to his computer. “Don’t treat them like your friends. You’re a faculty member. You shouldn’t be anything else to them. What they do outside of your office isn’t anything you need to insert yourself into. Am I clear?”

My face grows warm at the warning. He doesn’t want me prying, and God only knows what he’d do if he found out I was. But a nagging feeling has me debating on risking it anyway.

Daniel wouldn’t be so torn up if this didn’t impact him or someone he cares about somehow, and the claims against Ricky are too serious to just ignore because the head coach isn’t interested in involving himself in investigating them.

“I do understand,” I say, still standing at the doorway despite the obvious dismissal he’s giving me. “But I want what’s best for the Dragons too. That’s why I’m bringing it up.”

Pearce slowly looks back over at me, dumbfounded that I’m still talking. “I don’t know how much clearer I can get with you. It’s not your job to do what’s best for the team. That’s mine.”

My nostrils flare open as I glance at the floor.

I stand there for a few moments longer before turning on my heel when I realize he’s got nothing left to say. No more warnings or cold scoldings. He’s said his piece.

If I were smart, I’d listen to him.

But my gut tugs me in a different direction.

A few days later, four large pizzas are delivered to the screening room, where the guys watch game tapes. Two separate cards wait for the players whose birthdays are coming up next to a small marble cake I bought at the store before coming in for class.

I don’t join them for a lot of reasons. One, because Pearce is probably angry. And two, it leaves them all distracted for me to dig even though I told myself I shouldn’t.

But Ricky Wallace even gives me a weird feeling in my stomach, and my intuition has rarely been wrong. So, I go against the rules for a second time because of a player. Except this time, it’s for illegally accessing personal files to try to get some answers to questions flying around the locker room that Pearce refuses to acknowledge.

If that’s how I go down, I’ll be okay with it.

Because at least I was trying to do something right for once.

The Lindon Dragons are a family.

My family.

And like Matt said before.

Family is important.