Hope That Never Dies

THIRTY-SIX

♢ ♢ ♢

As I hang up the phone with Lydia I can't help but smirk.

'Fuck that was hot'

I pulled the bathroom door open and Theo was starting to get restless.

When I did Theo looked at me with narrow eyes.

"Who was that?" He asked

I rolled my eyes and shoved his shoulder.

Theo gasped dramatically, clutching his chest with his hand. "How dare you!". Theo breathed offended.

I rolled my eyes once again and kept walking, back to the living room as Theo walked into the bathroom.

"Close the fucking door Theo" I shouted to him without even needing to turn around.

I knew him too well, this guy had the habit of pissing with the door open.

"Don't tell me what to do" he whined back. The sound of his urine hitting the toilet water echoing through the hall.

I laughed under my breath, shaking my head at the fact that this odd mother fucker is my best friend.

I sat back down on the coach next to the guys. All of them engaged on the video of our last game playing on the big flat screen tv.

I shifted my attention back to the game playing on the screen, but my mind kept drifting back to Lydia. The way she looked, the sounds she made—it was intoxicating.

Max glanced over at me, his eyebrows raised in curiosity. "Everything alright, man?"

I forced a casual smile, trying to appear unaffected. "Yeah, just thinking about something."

Theo emerged from the bathroom, a mischievous grin on his face. "So, who was it?" he asked, winking suggestively.

I rolled my eyes, unwilling to indulge in Theo's teasing. "Just a friend," I replied nonchalantly, hoping to steer the conversation away from Lydia.

But Theo wasn't one to let things go easily. "A friend, huh?" he teased, nudging me playfully. "Sure didn't sound like 'just a friend' from where I was standing."

I shot him a warning look, silently willing him to drop the subject.

The last thing I needed was Theo prying into my personal life, especially when it involved Lydia.

Thankfully, Max intervened before Theo could press further. "Come on, guys, let's focus on the game," he suggested, gesturing to the screen.

I breathed a sigh of relief, grateful for the diversion.

As we turned our attention back to the game, I tried to push aside thoughts of Lydia and focus on the task at hand.

But no matter how hard I tried, her image lingered in my mind, her voice echoing in my ears like a siren's call.

It was clear that Lydia had gotten under my skin in a way I hadn't anticipated.

As the game progressed, I found myself stealing glances at my phone, half-hoping to see a message from her.

But the screen remained stubbornly blank, and I couldn't shake the feeling of disappointment that settled in the pit of my stomach.

Eventually, the game ended, and the guys began to disperse, heading off to their respective rooms.

I lingered in the living room for a moment, feeling restless and unsettled.

With a sigh, I grabbed my phone and headed upstairs to my room.

As I settled onto my bed, I couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted between Lydia and me—a subtle but undeniable change in our dynamic.

Closing my eyes, I tried to push aside thoughts of Lydia and focus on getting some much-needed rest.

But her image lingered in my mind, taunting me with the memory of our intimate conversation.

With a frustrated groan, I tossed my phone aside and buried my face in the pillow, hoping to drown out the chaos of my thoughts and find some semblance of peace.

But no matter how hard I tried, sleep remained elusive, and Lydia's gorgeous face would not allow me to sleep. My mind kept racing with thoughts of her amazing naked body laying on top of mine.

—

As we gathered on the field, the morning sun cast long shadows across the lush green turf.

Coach Johnson stood at the center of the field, his voice booming as he outlined the day's agenda.

"Alright, boys, listen up!" Coach Johnson's voice cut through the crisp morning air, commanding our attention. "We've got a lot of work to do today, so let's focus up and give it our all."

The team nodded in agreement, our determination evident as we mentally prepared for the grueling practice ahead.

Coach Johnson barked out instructions, detailing the drills and exercises we would be running throughout the morning.

"Alright, let's start with some passing drills," Coach Johnson called out, motioning for us to form into pairs. "I want crisp, accurate passes, none of this sloppy nonsense!"

I partnered up with Max, a fellow wide receiver known for his precise route running.

We moved through the drills with precision, the ball flying back and forth between us as we honed our skills.

"Nice route, Max!" I called out, as he flawlessly executed a slant pattern. "Keep it up!"

Max grinned in response, his competitive spirit igniting as we pushed each other to perform at our best.

The energy on the field was electric, each player feeding off the intensity of those around them.

As the morning wore on, we transitioned into scrimmage drills, pitting offense against defense in a series of fast-paced matchups.

The competition was fierce, each player fighting tooth and nail for possession of the ball.

"Come on, boys, let's see some hustle!" Coach Johnson shouted, his voice a constant presence on the field as he encouraged us to dig deep and push ourselves to the limit.

...

By the time practice came to an end, a solid three and a half hours later it was 8:30am.

"Alright boys hit the showers" coach said.

And with that we gathered our things and heading towards the locker room.

All I could think about the rest of the morning was the fact that I was going to see Lydia in class today. The thought of seeing her gorgeous face made me smile.