Blindside

“Oh man, have you seen the replacement coach?” Angela, the Jet’s star winger bounded into the changing rooms, dressed in sweats with her rugby boots dangling over her shoulder by their laces. She shook her umbrella, scattering raindrops over everyone in the vicinity and kissed her fingertips with loud moans of sexual appreciation. “An ass to die for and the rest of the package isn’t too shabby.”

The players who had already arrived for training started firing questions. Who was he? Was he single? Did he have a girlfriend?

Isabel “Issy” Deans grinned and moved her gear farther down the drafty changing room, out of range of the wet umbrellas and equally wet teammates arriving for training. Rain rattled the tin roof, drowning out anything but a shout while the winter wind whistled through the open door. She shivered, whipped her good work jumper over her head and traded it for a faded training jersey.

“His name is Tyler Jameson and he’s coaching us until the end of the season since Allen is sick. He’s just returned from playing rugby in Japan because he wants to coach now that his contract with the Japanese club has expired, he’s single and you’re right. The man’s a babe.” Patricia Coates, another new arrival winked. “With a mighty fine ass.”

Everyone shrieked with laughter apart from Issy. She froze in the middle of peeling panty hose down her legs. Tyler Jameson. Why of all the coaches in the world did it have to be her neighbor and teenage crush Tyler Jameson? She hadn’t even known he’d returned home, but then maybe he wasn’t staying with his parents. Issy inhaled, attempting to breathe through the herd of nerves that were galloping through her stomach. She’d thought the crush she’d had on Tyler had faded. After all, she hadn’t thought about him for months. Heck, she’d even dated a few times this year. She hadn’t thought about him during her engagement. Well, not much, she amended with a sliver of guilt. Her heart thudded erratically, and she had to wipe her suddenly moist palms on her jersey. A simple fact. Tyler Jameson made her nervous. Clumsy. Her fingers turned to thumbs and her feet inexplicably grew when she was around him. She groaned silently while she wriggled out of her tight black skirt and exchanged it for black leggings. She had one goal this year—to make the Black Ferns, New Zealand’s female representative rugby team. If Tyler Jameson had his normal affect on her, she might as well kiss her chances of making the Ferns goodbye.

A sharp knock sounded on the changing room door. “Ladies, you decent in there? Can I come in?”

Yep, it was Tyler Jameson all right. She’d recognize that gravely voice anywhere. Issy swallowed. Her hands trembled when she attempted to lace up her rugby boots. She stopped, clenched her fingers to a fist and straightened them before trying to lace her boots again.

“Just a sec, coach,” Patricia shouted. Although fully dressed and ready for training, she whipped her T-shirt over her head to display bountiful breasts. “All decent,” she called.

Issy rolled her eyes, not at Patricia’s shenanigans but at the spike of jealousy that struck her hard. This was worse than she’d thought. She was feeling possessive about Tyler. Coupled with nerves, this was a disaster waiting to happen.