The Assistant Coach (BOOK 1: OMEN KING SERIES)

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Leia Welsh

I rush down the grand dormitory building stairs like a hurricane, not even bothering to change out of my white T-shirt and SpongeBob pajama shorts.

My black curly hair is haphazardly thrown into a messy bun, adding to my disheveled laziness.

I can hear the rain pounding against the windows, and I know my SpongeBob shorts are going to be soaked through by the time I reach the bottom.

Reaching the big glass doors, I keep my hands on the handle, my heart pounding as I spot Warren standing by his car. The rain mercilessly drenches him, turning his black hair, hoodie, jeans, and boots into a soggy mess. He's drowned in rain, but there's something about the way his eyes light up when he sees me that makes my heart do cartwheels.

What the hell is he doing here? Without hesitation, I swing open the door and step outside, my black socks quickly absorbing the moisture from the rain-soaked pavement.

Luckily, the overhead ceiling shields my waist up from getting wet, but the chilly air sends shivers down my exposed arms, causing goosebumps to dance on my wet legs. I can feel the cold seeping into my bones, but I can't tear my eyes away from Warren, who is smiling at me like I'm the only person in the world.

"Leia." Warren leans against his sleek black G-wagon, looking effortlessly attractive.

Warren's tousled black hair falls just right, framing his chiseled jawline. His hands are tucked into the pockets of his perfectly fitted jeans, and a shaky smile plays on his lips, making my heart ache a little.

"You'll catch a cold," I say, unable to hide the concern in my voice.

I can see the slight tremble in his body, and I want nothing more than to run over to him and hug him.

He responds with a shivering laugh that sends delightful shivers down my spine. God, I love that laugh.

"You've been avoiding me," he accuses, his face glistening with raindrops that cling to his skin. His head tilts to the side, a crooked smile playing on his lips, making my heart flutter.

"I'm sorry, I just..." I start, but his furrowed eyebrows stop me in my tracks. The lump in my throat grows as I struggle to find the right words. "Never mind,"

"No, say it," he insists, his voice sharp and demanding. I can see the vulnerability in his eyes, and my heart aches for him.

The rain continues to pour, soaking him to the bone. He stands there, not making any effort to come closer.

I can see the vulnerability in his eyes, and my heart aches for him. The rain continues to pour, soaking him to the bone. He stands there, not making any effort to come closer.

I can see the hurt in his eyes, a reflection of the pain I've caused him.

It's a bitter feeling, knowing that I'm the reason for that look.

"How can I trust that you're not just trying to get in my pants?" I ask, my voice tinged with worry and self-doubt.

His face hardens at my words, and suddenly the only sound I hear is the thunder of my own heart, drowning out the rain.

He looks almost offended, angry even, that I could question his intentions. It hurts to see him like this, to know that I've brought this doubt into my mind.

"Do you honestly think I would go through all of this just to have sex with you?" He fires back, his disbelief evident in his tone.

"I've laid my heart on the line for you, not once, not twice, but three times, and you think it's all about sex?" His voice is sharp, cutting through the rain and the tension between us.