Football Sports Romance Audiobook Bundle

False Start

Chapter One
Lee

I walk toward the stadium instead of driving across campus because my truck is out of commission. Talk about a shitty twenty-four hours. First, I get a call yesterday from the mechanic that my truck repair is a thousand dollars, which I don’t have, and then Coach Buxby called to tell me he wants to see me before my first class this morning. For what? I have no idea. This is the one morning out of the week that we don’t have an early morning workout, and I would’ve chewed off my left arm for an extra hour of sleep, but no one tells Coach no. 

Our team is killing it this season. Correction: I’m killing it. Sure, the team is playing well, but it’s my arm and my eye as the quarterback that’s really making the difference. Hence why I’m here on a full ride scholarship. My first two years playing for the Wolverines were good, but this year is shaping up to be even better.

So, I know Coach doesn’t want to see me because of my performance on the field.

I nod and say hello to the people I know and smile at the ones I don’t, because even if I don’t know them, they know me. It’s part of being the starting quarterback at a Division One college.

We’re already a month into football season. October in Michigan usually means you’re freezing or you’re sweating, and it changes every year. One year we could have snow and the next it’s in the seventies three out of the four weeks. But right now, it’s the perfect fall day that people in the Midwest brag about. There’s a slight chill, but my sweatshirt keeps me warm enough. The leaves changing colors into golden yellow, auburn, and orange reminds me of home. British Columbia, Canada, is beautiful in autumn, and a piece of me always yearns to end up back there, even if not all my childhood memories are happy.

I go inside the stadium, giving a nod to Horace, the security guy, and head straight down the hall to Coach’s office. The door is open and he’s sitting behind his desk with the paper open, a danish and coffee next to him. 

I peek my head in. “Morning, Coach.” 

He waves me in. “Burrows, have a seat.” 

I sit in one of the two chairs across from his desk and lean back. The room is silent. He nods and steeples his fingers, studying me with a stern expression.

Coach Buxby couldn’t be more opposite than most D1 coaches. He’s in his late fifties with greying hair at his temples and a perpetually unshaven face. It’s not a beard exactly, more like he just didn’t shave for a few days in a row. His protruding belly makes me think of a small town high school coach rather than a D1.

Ever since Coach recruited me, we’ve gotten along. Which is why his pissed off expression makes the muscles in my jaw tense.

He’s still yet to say anything, and I rack my brain for any reason why he’d want to see me. I finally say, “So… what’s going on? Why’d you need to see me?”

He sighs. “Spoke to your biology professor yesterday.”

I roll my eyes. Fucking Professor Sherman. The man is a complete dick who doesn’t understand the pressure of being a college football player. Then again, it doesn’t help that he’s more of a chess fan than football. “It’s not my strongest class.”

“He says you’re failing.” The line between his eyebrows deepens into cavern-like levels.

“It’s a D and there’s a test next week. I do good on that and we’re golden.”

I suck at all science, especially biology for some reason. I’m holding a B average GPA. Regardless, I should’ve figured out this was the reason Coach wanted to see me, but I thought I had time to bring my grade up.

“I don’t have to remind you that if you don’t turn the grade around, you’ll be suspended until you get it up.”

My hands clench into fists. “I have time, Coach. The grade isn’t final.” 

He holds up his hand. “You know the rules. If at any time, your grades aren’t all Cs or better, you’re suspended.”

“Coach… you can’t seriously suspend me because I’m pulling a D in biology?”

He leans in over the desk. “Never said I wanted to, Burrows. Rules are rules and you don’t get a pass no matter who you are. And what would you do if you go out in that game on Sunday and get injured? What would your future look like? It’s why my rules are clear. You earn your education while playing football. End of discussion.” He picks up his coffee and takes a sip.

The entire time Coach is talking, all I can see are my dreams of playing professional football going up in smoke. What the hell would I do with myself if I couldn’t play football for a living?

My hands wrap around the arms of the chair, tightening until my knuckles are white. “That can’t happen.”

“Then you need to get your act together and improve your grade.”

Easier said than done. I may not have put my best effort into that class, but I have been trying. It’s too late to drop the class, plus I need it for my graduation credits. So even if I got out of it this semester, I’m taking it at some point in the future.

“The team needs me,” I say as one last ditch effort to see if he can make this all go away.

He sighs and stares at me for a long moment. His hands fist on his desk. “You don’t think I fucking know that? But I’m not bending the rules for you, Burrows. Even if losing you puts us at a disadvantage.”

I straighten up, hands held up in front of me. “What can I do?”

“Professor Sherman must be feeling nice, because he’s setting you up with someone from your class to tutor you for the next month. There’s an assignment and a test within that time period that you need to pass. Then you’ll be able to stay on the team as we roll into the playoffs.”

I nod as frantically as my heart beats. “I can do that.”

“Good.” He leans back and sips his coffee again, then takes a bite of his danish. A little crumble rests in his beard. “I’ll be keeping up with Professor Sherman. Now get the hell outta here.”

“Thanks, Coach.” Without a word, I grab the strap of my backpack and hoist it onto my shoulder, then turn and make my way to the door.

“And Lee?”

I stop and turn to face him.

“You need to take this seriously. The university won’t hesitate to remove you from the team if necessary.”

My stomach turns over. “I got this.”

And I mean it. I didn’t become a D1 quarterback because I don’t know how to set a goal, then work hard to accomplish it. No, I’m going to do whatever it takes to pass this class and not miss one single game. The last thing I need is pro teams thinking I’m a problem because that’s when you slip in the draft.

* * *

On my walk across campus, all I can think about is what will happen if I can’t get my grade up in biology. The entire future I’ve envisioned my whole life could disappear.

My phone buzzes in my back pocket and I pull it out and see my older brother Kane’s name on the screen. The guy has always had a sixth sense for when shit is going on with me. All part and parcel of him basically filling a parental role for me after my dad died and my mom couldn’t claw her way out of her grief.

I send the call to voicemail, not wanting the lecture from him right now, although at some point I’ll have to ask for another loan to get my truck from the mechanic. One problem at a time.

Kane’s living his best life right now. At almost twenty-seven, he’s been playing professional hockey for years and is one of the best goalies in the league. I’d probably feel pressure to live up to my big brother’s accomplishments if I came from any kind of normal family situation, but my mom doesn’t really praise either one of us on our accolades.

Still, I don’t want to tell him that I’ve put myself in a situation that threatens my place on the team. Not yet anyway. Not until I have the situation under control.

I arrive at the Biological Sciences Building and head into my auditorium.

Professor Sherman is preparing his lecture and doesn’t seem to sense me eyeballing him as I make my way to my seat. My shitty grade isn’t his fault, but he ratted me out. I’ve had teammates failing classes and the professor goes to them before Coach. Gives them extra assignments to complete to boost their grade.

None of my teammates are in this class, so I take my usual spot in the last row and plop my backpack down in the empty seat next to me. The rest of the class trails in as I bury my head in my phone. Then I hear Professor Sherman call a girl over. They chat for a minute and both glance at me.

I’m guessing she’s my fucking tutor.

I’ve never noticed her before. Then again, she sits in the front row. She wears dark-rimmed glasses, and her long dark-blonde hair is pulled into a ponytail. Her clothes don’t show off her assets. It’s almost as if this girl does everything in her power not to let the opposite sex know she’s a woman.

Whatever. I don’t care who the professor gets to tutor me as long as they’re smart enough to teach me so I can pass.

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