“My voice has never bothered you in the middle of action before,” he quips.
“If you’re referring to any time when there’s been a girl between us, that’s entirely different. Her nakedness mitigates your presence.”
“Unbelievable. I’ll buy you a coffee if it’ll make you shut up.” He damn near rips the door of his Maserati off before throwing his bags into the back and dropping into the seat.
“Deal. I didn’t really want to give you the details of my solo session anyway.”
He glances over at me, his eyes narrowed in frustration.
“Oh, come on, like you didn’t knock one out this morning. I saw the way you were looking at the emo chick yesterday morning. Bet you’d love to have her black lipstick on your—”
Theo floors the car, throwing me back in my seat and cutting off my words.
“Touchy subject?” I ask, humour laced through my voice.
“You’re being a dick this morning. You really should have fucked her. It might have chilled you out a little.”
I flip him off as he comes to a stop at the end of the driveway before gunning it onto the street and toward our closest Costa.
We’re the last two into the locker room ready for our morning practice and every set of eyes turns our way. Most have the usual look of hesitancy on their faces, but there are always the couple who think they’re man enough to stand up to us and square their shoulders in challenge. The only three who barely pay us any attention as we stroll in are Alex, Nico and Toby.
“What time do you call this?” Alex deadpans, pulling his boots on.
“That fuck was too busy jerking off over the princess,” Theo announces, much to Alex and Nico’s amusement. Toby’s face, however, drops as his eyes find mine.
“You saw her last night?”
“You should have seen the state of him. Stumbled in soaking wet and covered in mud,” Theo says, either oblivious to Toby’s reaction or feeding it. It’s hard to tell with him sometimes.
“Do we have to?”
“He’s sulking because she didn’t let him go all the way.”
“Theo,” I bark.
“He always is like a bear with a sore head when he don’t get enough pussy,” Alex joins in.
“It’s too fucking early for this shit. Like any of you fuckers got lucky last night.”
Smirks cover both Alex’s and Nico’s faces.
“Oh just fuck off, the lot of you.”
Dragging my boots from my bag, I storm back out again, leaving them behind to gossip about me. I don’t have the patience for this bullshit this morning.
I blow down the short walkway that leads out to our training field with the bench at the end in my sights when I run headfirst into a solid body.
“Whoa,” Coach says, pressing his hands to my shoulders and pushing me back. He studies my face for a second. I have no idea what he sees. My hangover. My anger. The fact that I’m right at the end of my fucking patience. Whatever it is, it makes his brow crease in concern.
“You good, son?”
My lips part to lie, to tell him just like I do everyone else that everything is just fine. But for some reason, the words don’t fall from my lips like they usually do.
“Come on.”
He gives me a gentle shove in the direction of his office, and I have no choice but to head in that direction.
I fall on the chair in front of his desk before he takes his spot at the other side.