Well, there are, but they’re not who this story is about.
This story is about me—the coach’s daughter.
When I moved to Iowa to live with my dad, the university's take-no-prisoners wrestling coach, I thought transferring would be easy as pie—living with my father would be temporary, and he'd make sure his douchebag wrestlers left me alone.
Wrong on both counts.
ASSHOLES ALWAYS COME OUT OF THE WOODWORK WHEN THE STAKES ARE HIGH.
A bet is placed, and I'm on the table. After one humiliating night and too much alcohol, I find the last nice guy on campus. And when he offers to rent me his spare bedroom, I go all in. It’s time for the nice guy to finish first.
Midnight chats and spilling my problems turn to lingering touches. Lingering touches turn to more.
And the ultimate good guy has the potential do more damage than any douchebags ever could.
She perks up. “Wait, you’ve never had a back massage?”
“No?”
“Ever?”
“Nope.”
“Well, what the hell? How can I, in good conscience, lie here letting you rub my back when you’ve never had anyone rub yours?” She scoots over, pointing to the mattress. “Lie on your stomach, I’ll do you first.”
I wave my hands in front of me in protest. The last thing I need is her warm hands roaming my body. “No, no, you don’t have to. It’s not a big deal.”
“Are you crazy? Back massages are the best—like, better than an orgasm. You’re first, so lie down.”
“And you call me the bossy one?”
“Quit stalling and get on the bed.”
Obediently, I climb to the middle of my bed in nothing but a pair of gym shorts, legs hanging off the side. Next to me, the mattress dips, Anabelle on her knees, approaching my side.
A finger glides down my spine. “It will be easier for me to do this if I’m sitting on you. Hope that’s okay.”
“Is that the approved method?”
“No, but my arms will get tired if I have to lean over you the whole time.”
“Do whatever then, I don’t care.”
I stiffen when Anabelle swings one leg over my body, straddling my ass. Warm palms at my lower back.
“You’re so tense. Try to relax,” she coos, making it worse. “Tilt your head to the side, that’s it.”
I hear the lotion bottle snap open. Click closed. My roommate’s palms rubbing together, warming it up. “Sorry, I don’t have any actual massage oil. This will have to do.”
When her hands make contact with my back, I almost groan it feels so fucking good. Warm. Smooth. Pressure in all the right places, pushing gently into my muscles.
Slowly.
Slower still, caressing along my shoulders, thumbs and fingers working together to soothe the burning on my right side.
“Doesn’t this feel great?” Her soft voice cuts into the silence. “You’re loosening up. That’s good.”
I feel her leaning as her hands move up and down my spine until they stop, hovering at the base of my neck. Thumbs stroking the skin below my hairline, back and forth.
Kneading.
Her torso dips, hands maneuvering my arms, placing them at my sides. Palms slide up and down my biceps.
For several minutes, she rubs my arms and shoulders. Then she skims down my ribcage unhurriedly, in no rush, making little humming sounds inside her throat.
I know I’m not imagining the feather-light way her hands drift down my spine. I remain still, letting her touch me, basking in it.
Remain still when her lips kiss the tender spot of my shoulder where it meets my neck, nose nuzzling behind my ear, her breasts rubbing against my back and what the fuck was that all about? What does she think she’s doing, trying to drive me insane?
CHRISTY'S REVIEW:
The Coaching Hours is the fourth and final book in Ney’s How to Date a Douchebag series. I was equal parts excited and sad to read this book. I've been looking forward to it for the longest, but I hate knowing this series is coming to an end. It's been a wonderful ride!
The star of this book is the coach of the wrestling teams daughter. She is a transfer student and the coach has quite a list of rules from his players… the main one is no dating his daughter. The majority of the wrestlers heed this warning, but there are two that just can’t help themselves. But this heroine can handle herself.
The Coaching Hours is the fourth and final book in Ney’s How to Date a Douchebag series. I was equal parts excited and sad to read this book. I've been looking forward to it for the longest, but I hate knowing this series is coming to an end. It's been a wonderful ride!
The star of this book is the coach of the wrestling teams daughter. She is a transfer student and the coach has quite a list of rules from his players… the main one is no dating his daughter. The majority of the wrestlers heed this warning, but there are two that just can’t help themselves. But this heroine can handle herself.
This story is a bit different than the others in this series. The douchebag hero is not to be found here. It’s not so much a sporty book like the others, but it is a very sweet friends to lovers story. A book about roommates that turn into more. It’s a bit of a slow burn and I loved that about it. I though the heroine was fantastic and I especially loved the hero. He is such a ‘nice guy’, and so sweet, caring, and all around fun.
I’ve been super vague about the characters in this book, but that’s only because I don’t want to spoil a thing for potential readers! Especially those that have read the entire series. I love all these characters. Even the ones I didn’t start out loving ended up stealing my heart. There was a particular character in this book that really changed his ways. I love what Ney did with him and no one was more surprised than me that I ended up loving him!
The Coaching Hours is funny, sweet, sexy, and emotional. Sara Ney is one funny lady. Seriously, even the chapter headings at the start of each new chapter had me laughing out loud. I adored this book and I adore this series! All the Douchebag books can be read as standalones, but I’m happy I read them all and read them in order! I wouldn’t have wanted to miss a single thing! Definitely recommend to lovers of sports romance/NA!
She lives with her husband, children, and her ridiculously large dog.
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