Page 56 of Caught Running
Brandon watched Misty’s face twist and he felt dread building. Misty was quick to confirm his fear. “You should help us out, Jake. We came all this way. Why, you’ve got two beds in this room; surely the four coaches could bunk together as well as the students,” she said, her voice sickeningly sweet.
“Sure we could, if we had known you were coming,” Jake answered coldly. “In fact, Troy, clear outoneof the rooms for them. We’ll call for a rollaway to be brought up,” he added as he turned to go fetch the clipboard.
Eyes widening, Brandon flinched as Misty shrieked about calling Tom, and she just kept on yelling. Troy and the girls shrank back into the hallway, obviously embarrassed. Seeing Jake’s shoulders tighten dangerously, Brandon scrambled a little to get up and walk up behind him—ostensibly to look at the clipboard—but he also placed his hand on Jake’s shoulder, a touch that wouldn’t be questioned between friends. But it was one he hoped would help keep Jake from going totally postal on the screeching harpy.
Misty indeed pushed her way into the room and despite the calming attempt by Brandon, Jake’s temper flared. He shoved the clipboard into Brandon’s hands and ushered him out of the room, slamming the door on all of them before rounding on Misty. The shouting could be heard but not understood in the hallway, and soon Troy shooed the four girls away and told them to go wait in the lobby.
He then turned to Brandon and asked, “Do you have your key?”
Brandon tore his eyes away from the door to look at Troy, patted his pockets, and shook his head. “Probably on the table,” he said, looking back at the door in ill-concealed concern. Not for Misty.
Troy stepped forward and banged on the door. “Jake! We need you to help with the boys!” he called, knowing that would be the only thing to cut though the rage Jake was channeling. A moment and a few quiet snarls later, the door opened, and Jake stepped out into the hall and stalked down the little corridor without a word to them.
Brandon’s eyes tracked Jake as he walked by and he hurt just looking at how upset and tense he was. And not ten minutes ago... He sighed and walked back into the room after Misty dashed by, red-faced. He snatched up his room key and walked back out to join Troy, pulling the door shut behind him. “C’mon,” he murmured as the other man fell in beside him. “We better follow him.”
They caught up to Jake at the first door on the list. He was stood there fuming, waiting for the boys to answer his knock.
As Brandon walked up to Jake’s side, Troy stayed well back, familiar with Jake’s temper. “She’s gone,” Brandon murmured evenly. “Will you let me deal with this?”
“I’m fine,” Jake answered through clenched teeth.
Brandon stepped back, slid a hand into his pocket, and forced a half smile, deciding on a calculated risk. “If you say so, Coach,” he said, injecting a note into his voice that clearly said he was humoring the bigger man. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Troy take another step back.
Jake turned slowly to stare at Brandon for a moment. Hoping his face looked as innocent as possible, Brandon just raised one brow and waited. Jake turned back to the door, jaw tight and eyes flashing as one of the tired kids opened it. Jake stared at him for a moment, trying to regain his temper.
The player’s eyes got big as he saw the look on the Coach’s face, and he looked to the other coaches, wondering what was wrong. “Yeah, Coach?” he asked in a small voice.
“We need to do some shuffling, guys,” Jake finally forced himself to say. “Gather up your things. Just for tonight.”
The kid nodded immediately and headed back into the room, leaving the door halfway open. While Jake spoke, Brandon backed up to stand next to Troy, who nudged his arm.
“What the hell, Bartlett? You trying to be six inches shorter? Cause that’s what you’ll be when he takes your damn head off,” Troy muttered.
Brandon’s face got pinched and he turned a glare on Troy. “You were doing so well helping, I saw,” he muttered.
“I learned some time backnot to help. He must like you,” Troy said under his breath. “Otherwise you’d be out cold on the floor.”
Brandon’s eyes shifted back to Jake, who was now talking quietly with the two players who had packed up fast and vacated the room.
As the kids dragged their things down the hall to the next room, Jake turned and looked at his other coaches, meeting Brandon’s eyes for a long, tense moment before turning and following to knock on the next door. Brandon couldn’t decide if he’d done the right thing or not. He’d just reacted, really. So he stood there with Troy and kept his mouth shut as Jake cleared up the situation with the rooms.
When he had the boys double-bunked and had taken their keys from them, Jake continued down the hallway to the lobby, fuming still and unable to look back at the other two men for fear of growling at them. He found the girls, who were now hunched together and chattering nervously, and he walked up to them and handed two of them keys and told them the room number. “Where’s your coach?” he asked flatly, and the girls all just pointed toward the bar area and skittered away to their rooms.
Troy took that opportunity to mutter a ‘good luck, road kill’ and take off. Brandon spared a very violent thought for him before glancing back at Jake, who was staring at the bar, anger still clear on his face. Brandon decided he wasn’t helping—probably hadn’t since he first left Jake alone with Misty—and started walking back toward their room without a word.His burst of energy was gone and then some. If he was going to get howled at, he’d rather it be after he’d gotten some sleep. A moment later and Jake materialized at his side, walking down the hall silently without ever having approached the cheerleading coach at the bar. Brandon wasn’t tempted to say anything, even when Jake pulled out his key card, opened the door, and gestured for Brandon to walk inside.
Jake followed and stood at the door, staring into the dark room morosely. “Bitch,” he finally grunted before beginning to take off his shirt.
Brandon pulled off his glasses and tossed them haphazardly on the table, where they slid across the messy papers. He pulled off his own shirt and worked on unfastening his jeans. Once Jake spoke the tension he’d felt had melted, and now it was all he could do to remain upright.
“She’s going to follow me around for the rest of my fucking life,” Jake muttered as if he was just now realizing this. Brandon couldn’t help but snort as he shoved his jeans over his hips and kicked them off. “It’s not funny,” Jake insisted seriously. “What are we gonna do if she ever shows up on my doorstep?” he asked.
Brandon’s head snapped around to look at Jake in disbelief.Holy shit. “Uh.” All he could think of was that if she touched Jake again, he might slap the hell out of her. But that probably wouldn’t go over real well.
Jake licked his lips and stared back at Brandon. “What if she finally gets the hint and turns her energy toward revenge?” he posed quietly, his body going cold at the thought.
“What if? Jake, we can go on about what ifs until we’re both blue in the face,” Brandon said, upset and resigned in equal measures. “Can you tell me it’s going to make a difference? Because if it does, I’d rather know now.” There was no strength behind his question, because for him, it didn’t matter. Despitehow much he bottled it up, he loved Jake desperately. He wasn’t sure how he’d react if something happened to tear them apart so fast.
“A difference?” Jake asked in confusion.