In the End Zone: A Sports Romance (2 page)

Chapter Three

The locker room was a rowdy, smelly, hazy mess when Morgan
stepped in. She had not been far behind the players and coaches, but when she stepped
in, she was hit in the face with a blast of warm, humid air that smelled musky
and hot. Morgan stood still, shocked as she looked around at the mostly naked
men there. Almost everyone was in some state of undress. Most of the guys were
still wearing their jock straps, and others had towels wrapped around their
middles as they prepared to climb into the showers. But a few of the men were
completely naked, causing Morgan to feel embarrassed. A blush rose up on her
cheeks and she tried her best not to stare in awe of the gorgeous, hunky,
rock-hard bodies that paraded in front of her.

The players did not seem to notice Morgan, but she was so small
and petite that she was easily overlooked in the crowd of giants. Morgan slowly
made her way across the room, wanting to find Coach Boss quickly so that she
could return to the seventh floor.

"Hey, baby," one of the players said teasingly, “You
lost? I can help.”

 
Morgan recognized this
player. He was one of the strong, big defensive linebackers, and he was easily
5 times bigger than Morgan, and one that her father called “a beast.” His pale
skin was stretched tightly over masses of muscles and his freckled face and red
hair looked kind, even with all of the teasing.

Although Morgan wanted to blush and run away, she forced herself
to stand tall. "I'm looking for Coach Boss," she said, her voice
powerful and strong.

"Coach?" another player asked. This player was tall
and dark skinned, but he looked sweet and understanding. Wasn’t he Sam Smythe,
the quarterback? "He's in his office. Head to the back and look for the
big windows."

Morgan nodded and set off to find the coach. She moved around
the hot, sweaty, muscular men and finally found the window that the player was
talking about. She kept her eyes on the gray tiled floor, not wanting to look
up and accidentally get a glimpse of someone’s nakedness.

But before she could reach out to Coach Boss, someone stepped in
front of Morgan. When she looked up, she found herself looking right into the
amazing blue eyes of the player who wore the number 93 jersey earlier. Morgan
gasped when she took in his face. He was much more handsome up close and she
could see every single chiseled feature in full detail. His eyes were what
struck her the most. Before she had seen them and marveled at their beauty. But
now, just inches away from his face, she could finally see how brilliant they
were. They looked like two cool pools of water that she wanted to dive into.
Morgan thought that his eyes looked bluer than the deepest oceans with thin
little crests at the top of each wave. She could not tear her eyes from him.

The football player leaned against a locker and he smiled.
Morgan looked down, and she immediately blushed hard when she realized that he
was stark naked standing in front of her. "Uh... nice tattoos," she
said, losing all of her stern bravadoes from earlier.

"What is a gorgeous little gal like you doing in
here?" the player asked. Morgan could not help but notice that he flexed
his biceps, making the tattoos that she just complimented him on stand out even
more.

Morgan's eyes traveled farther south, moving lazily down a
little happy trail that ran from his navel, and she got an eyeful of the man's
whole naked package. He was full and thick and bigger than anyone else that
Morgan had ever seen. She was so amazed that she did not notice that her mouth
was wide open in awe. She was incredibly aware of how turned on she was. The
guy seemed to know, but the player only smiled at her.

"Do you like what you see?" he asked her with a salacious
grin. And suddenly, Morgan was aware that she was staring.

She shook her head and tried to keep the flush on her cheeks
from deepening as her eyes shot back up to his. "I, uh..." Morgan
coughed and struggled to find her voice. "I'm looking for Coach
Boss."

But the player did not move from where he stood, blocking Morgan
in. His smile looped across his face lazily and he said, "And what would a
pretty thing like you want to see Coach for?"

A wave of hot irritation moved over Morgan. All her life, people
had said things like that to her, refusing to take her seriously because she
was pretty, young, and petite. And now, this guy was blocking her in with his
incredible, naked body, and she was being looked at as something pretty, not to
be taken seriously. With each passing second, Morgan grew angrier.

"I'm with the Marketing department and I am in charge of
interviewing Coach Boss. Now," Morgan glowered at the player with all of
the hatred that she could muster, "If you do not let me by, when it is
your turn to be featured online, I can guarantee you that the picture I will
paint of you will not be flattering."

The pair stared at each other, but Morgan would not back down.
She felt gigantic with her anger, dwarfing the large, muscular player, even
though her stature said otherwise. Morgan was determined to stand up for
herself and not be the one to get ran over.

The player was looking at her strangely. He was not backing
down, but he was also not bucking up to come back at her. His eyes moved over
her, almost laughing, and his face morphed from cocky and overbearing to one of
curiosity. "Oh really?" he asked, raising an eyebrow up on his
perfect forehead.

Morgan's eyes narrowed. "Try me, buddy."

"Larson!"

The voice that barked the player's name made him jump, and he
turned to face behind him, all while reaching for a towel. Morgan looked around
the player's large, muscular frame and saw Coach Boss standing in the doorway
of his office looking angry. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest and
his stance was wide. His eyes narrowed as he stared down at the naked parts of
the football player that had once been exposed.

"I did not just see you expose yourself at this young
woman, did I?" Coach Boss asked, his voice gruff and accusatory.

The player named Larson did not reply. He just hurried to wrap a
towel around his midsection. Morgan, feeling victorious, walked jauntily around
Larson's struggling frame toward the coach.

Coach Boss looked down at Morgan. "Morgan McMinn?” When
Morgan nodded, Boss said, Dryer told me to keep an eye out for you. You
alright?"

"Fine, thank you." Morgan's voice was cool and
collected. If nothing else, she wanted to show the famed football coach that
she could handle anything thrown at her. Once she heard that he was talking to Dryer,
she knew that he would be reporting back to the man over marketing.

Coach Boss extended an arm to his office. "Come on in and
we will get started."

Morgan began walking in, but something made her turn around and
look behind her. Larson, the player who had given her so much grief, was
staring at her. He was leaned against the lockers and grinning at her, all
whole holding a white towel in place over his naked frame.

"It was nice meeting you, Ms..."

"McMinn," Morgan replied tersely. She turned quickly,
tossing her hair as she did, and she smiled at the coach of the Caimans as he
closed the door behind her. "Thank you for meeting with me, Coach
Boss."

"Anytime, dear." Coach Boss moved over to his desk and
sat himself down. He looked at Morgan with approval and said, "I'm glad to
see you holding your own out there. You'll need that here, especially around
the players. They can be... a little rough around the edges sometimes."

As Coach took a sip from a tepid-looking cup of coffee, Morgan
settled down across from him and flipped open her little notebook. "It's
no bother," she said, tucking a stray bit of hair behind her ear.

Coach grinned. "Anyone who can stand up to Brent Larson is
good in my book."

Morgan smiled, then began her questions. During the interview,
Morgan found Coach Boss to be kind and he answered all of the questions fully.
At the end of the interview, Morgan stood and reached out to shake the coach's
hand. "Thank you so much for the interview.”

“Anytime,” Coach said. He leaned back in his chair and said,
“You may want to steer clear of Brent Lawson.”

“Don’t worry about me, Coach,” Morgan said, her voice showing
her displeasure with the player in question, “He better worry about steering
clear of me, first.”

Chapter Four

Morgan found herself fitting in quite well at the Caiman’s
headquarters. After just a few days, she found that she loved it like a second
home. After the first week, her coworkers all knew her by name. And after a
little while longer, more staff knew her and seemed to like her. It was the
perfect job for her.

But what Morgan found herself uneasy about was the football
players themselves. After that run-in with Brent Lawson before her interview
with the coach, she found herself steeling against seeing him again. But every
time she met a new player, they all seemed nice, polite, and friendly. No one
was rude or cocky like that awful Larson.

And no one looked at her with eyes like Larson’s either.

At the start of Morgan’s third week, her piece on Coach Boss
went live on social media. She had written the script, recorded the speaking
part, and paired it all with photographs of coach’s accomplishments throughout
the years. She ended the video with the tagline: “The Caimans are coming for
ya
!”

When Morgan sat down with Dryer and a few other higher-ups in
the advertising and marketing department, she could feel herself sweating
bullets as the short 3-minute presentation played. She heard herself reading
every word that she had written, and as soon as the video ended, she braced herself
for criticism.

Dryer turned in his chair and looked at her as though he was
studying her. “Thoughts?” he asked the others, not taking his eyes from Morgan.

“I loved it!” “Very informative.” “It did Coach justice.”
Everyone around the table murmured various praises, but Morgan watched for
Dryer’s reactions only.

Dryer said nothing. His long fingers tapped away at his chin and
his eyes narrowed as they watched her. Morgan fought the urge to squirm in her
seat, wanting to keep up that strong, confident visage that she had taken upon
herself from the start of the internship. Dryer leaned forward and he asked
Morgan, “Was this your best work?”

Morgan was confused. Was this a trick question? She decided it
best to answer honestly. “Yes. I did my absolute best.”

A smile broke across Dryer’s face, giving his blue eyes a
crinkle. “Well done,” he said, leaning back, “And just think of what you could
accomplish with a full production crew helping you.”

Morgan’s heart jumped. Was this it? Did she prove herself?

Dryer stood and the others in the room followed suit. But his
eyes were only for Morgan. “Congratulations, McMinn. I think that presentation
just earned a permanent position here. You should be incredibly proud.”

Morgan jumped up from her chair and screamed with delight before
jumping at Dryer and wrapping her arms around his neck. “Thank you, thank you,
THANK YOU!” she cried out as she squeezed his neck.

“You earned it, kid,” Dryer said as Morgan jumped off of him,
“Now that you have the position, it’s time to get to work.”

“Oh,” Morgan said, straightening her clothes and smoothing down
her hair with her palms, “Of course.” She fought to compose herself, knowing
that she and her friends would head out and celebrate that night.

The other members of the department shared in congratulations
for Morgan before filing out of the meeting area. Dryer sat back down and
Morgan reached for her bag. She pulled out her laptop and sat ready for her
next assignment.

“So, I like what you did with Coach Boss’s piece, but I think
that we need some live shots of the players for the rest of them. Maybe do some
video interviews?”

Morgan nodded as she typed away, jotting notes on every idea
that Dryer suggested. Her euphoria had not yet waned. She thought that if she
tried hard enough, she could dance on the ceiling out of sheer happiness.

Dryer kept on. “I loved the tag line, so let's keep that. And
the old school shots of Coach were really great. I am sure that the players
have baby photos around here somewhere that we can include in theirs. High
school shots, stuff like that.”

“That’s a great idea,” Morgan said as her brow furrowed, trying
desperately to keep her typing going as fast as Dryer’s mouth was moving.
I need to get a personal voice recorder,
she thought desperately.

“So, next, I think we need to go to the players themselves. Make
sure that you talk to the quarterback, Sam. He’s out number one. And there’s
the center and the kicker… Oh! And do not forget to grab an interview with
Brent Larson! He’s our star.”

At the very mention of Brent Larson’s name, Morgan felt as
though she was falling. She had tried so very hard to push the beautiful
football player from her mind, but she often found herself daydreaming about
him, looking him up online, or glancing around the building for a glimpse of
him. But in all her three weeks with the Caimans, she had not laid eyes on him
since coming across his naked, glistening form in the locker room. Morgan was
sure that her face was glowing a bright pink at the thought of Larson, for she
could not push away the blush that rose up on her cheeks. But Dryer did not
notice.

“Have you heard about the
record?,
”
Dryer said, speaking of Larson, “He’s tied in the country for most touchdowns
made in a season. Only Erik Levitt from the Blue Kraits can come close to
beating his record. So, we need a really great spotlight interview of him.”

Morgan nodded and her mind whirled. How was she to interview him
and see him again? Would she be picturing him naked the whole time, or would
she get lost in his beautiful face and sparkling ocean eyes? Would she even be
able to think straight with his rippling muscles so close to her body? Morgan
wondered if she could even ask him questions. Her body wanted his from the very
moment that she laid eyes on him all those weeks ago. Could she stay
professional?

Dryer stood and it brought Morgan rushing back to the present.
“We only have a few more weeks until the start of the season. Let’s get these
interviews done and ready to go out in a month.”

Morgan stood and nodded. Dryer wandered off, ready to head to
another meeting about merchandising, and Morgan dragged her bag and computer
back to her desk. She threw herself onto her chair and swiveled around, turning
away from the rest of the office. What should have been the happiest day of her
life, getting the job of her dreams, was now turning into one of the most
nerve-wracking. She took a deep breath and gathered her things. She left a note
on her desk saying, “Out to lunch” and headed to the elevator.

She stepped on and tried to clear her head as soon as the doors
closed. She sank against the back wall and took a few deep breaths, letting
herself smile over the elation of getting the job. “So what if I have to deal
with Brent Larson,” she said to herself, “I’ll just keep professional and then
stay away from him.”

The doors opened suddenly at the fifth floor and Morgan stood up
straight. She looked up to see who was getting on, and when she saw the
beautiful face of the running back who wore the number 93 jersey, she suddenly
found it a struggle to breathe.

Brent Larson stepped onto the elevator and when he saw Morgan
standing there alone, he grinned at her and winked. The simple gesture sent
Morgan’s hard fluttering fast and her body seemed to swell with him being so
close to her.
What is wrong with me,
Morgan thought wildly.

He moved just past her to press the button on the elevator for
the training field. Morgan went dizzy when she inhaled the scent of his
cologne.

The elevator doors closed slowly, closing them in together,
alone, and Brent moved to stand next to Morgan. She looked him up and down and
admired his dark brown suit paired with a salmon colored button up shirt. His
dark shaggy hair was combed back and out of his eyes, but the little bit of
stubble that dotted his cheeks gave him an unkempt look that did not pair with
the rest of him.

Brent looked over at Morgan and she tried desperately to ignore
the salacious grin that he gave when he looked at her. “It’s good to see you
looking so fine, Ms. Morgan,” he said, his voice deep and husky and a little
bit jolly.

“It’s good to see you wearing clothes, Mr. Larson,” Morgan said,
unable to stop herself. Her voice was acidic, but it was only because she was
so desperate to steel herself against him.

Brent’s laughter echoed in the elevator as the pair sank slowly
down the center of the building. “I suppose so,” he said. When Morgan looked
over at him, his blue eyes twinkled gaily at her.

Morgan suppressed a smile. Brent’s laughter was contagious, but
she dared not give in to him. She knew men like him, men who were aware of
their charm and virtue and used it every time they could. No, Morgan would
fight against him. He was bad for her, she knew it.

“I’ve been hoping to run into you again,” Brent said, leaning
over to touch his shoulder to Morgan’s. His body was hard and warm, and when
they touched, Morgan could feel her skin swell and ache for him. She squeezed
her thighs together tightly, refusing to give in to her desire for him.

Morgan said nothing. She looked ahead and watched the numbers in
the elevator slowly tick down. 4… 3… 2… Finally, the doors opened and Morgan
stepped off and into the lobby. She looked back at Brent, who had been staring
at her as she walked away, and she offered a wry smile. “Don’t worry, Mr. Larson,
I will be by to interview you in the next week.”

Brent just smiled and leaned back. “I’ll be waiting,” he said,
“And if I don’t see you before then, I’ll be up to the seventh floor to see you
first.”

The silver elevator doors closed and Brent disappeared from
sight. Morgan stood still, her mouth slightly open as she fought to stop the
hot desire that was bubbled up in her. It had taken every bit of self-control
that she had in her body to keep her from jumping on Brent, taking his mouth on
hers and pleasuring every bit of his body. She wanted nothing else in the
world, and she wanted to terribly bad.

Oh god,
she thought wildly to herself,
how am I supposed to do this interview
?