You Are My Dose

By Gomez Green

Stephen Sinclaire decided to close his heart the day it was shattered when he was just a teenager. Since then he has been governed by three rules that he never breaks: he commands, he does not repeat the same and never begs. He dedicates his life to his NBA career, until the day his knee sustains extensive damage and he must change careers...
Alyssa Mills moves to Charlotte to attend the best acting university and, incidentally, to be able to run away from her abusive boyfriend. She laughs, she has fun, she goes to frat parties and lives in constant fear of being found by him. Until a new teacher joins the staff and makes her start to see the world with different eyes.
Love, internal struggle of feelings and true friendships, in a story that will show you how age and circumstances matter very little to the heart.
 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gomez Green
• Release date: Mar 22, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215769935

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

TWO YEARS LATER

STEPHEN

I watch unfazed as Kenny picks up my clothes from the floor and puts them in the washer, making sure not to mix the whites with the colors, placing the former in a separate basket. He looks at me reproachfully and I click my tongue as I take another gulp of the beer, its drops already trickling down the outside of the amber glass. Why don't you go home and leave me alone?

"Dude, you can't go on like this.

—I can do what comes out of my balls, I no longer have responsibilities.

You have to go to rehab. He makes a move to take the bottle from me, but I'm faster.

-So that? I will never play again in life.

"You don't know that, maybe...

Leave it, I interrupt, getting up to leave the kitchen. You should go, you're going to be late for training.

I'll come back later and we'll have dinner together. He reaches down to pick up the gym bag and places it on his shoulder, running a hand over his shaved head and turning around to avoid my refusal.

Don't even think about bringing the whole team, I warn him, watching his back as he walks towards the exit.

-We'll see.

—Kenny.

-I'm out. See you later.

He sticks out his tongue at me, hesitant, and leaves the room. I hear the door to the street close a few seconds later and I walk to the window to look at him, he gets in his Ferrari, the one he bought just after winning the championship, and he leaves down the cobbled path. I see how, in the distance, Jeff opens the mechanical gate for her and lets her out. I wave at him when he looks at me, and return to the couch. Overall, I have nothing better to do.

Welcome to my pathetic life: a thirty-year-old man with no job, no dreams and no desire to have them. After killing myself coaching in college, and after reaching as high as basketball can go, I wreck my knee in a game and take my career up the ass. Obviously, in the NBA there is no place for me anymore, so my day to day consists of getting up late, going out to the garden with my German Shepherd, throwing him a few balls, picking him up covered in drool, and going back into the house, throwing myself on the couch and wait for Kenny to come and poke me. I've been like this for two months now, the days seem to move slower than ever. I haven't been to watch a game since I had surgery, despite the fact that the coach hasn't stopped calling me. I don't want to talk to him either. I know that if it were his decision, I would do everything possible to get him to play again, but it's not up to him, so it's absurd to reconsider even that option.

Three hours and four beers later, after I've seen almost two Stallone movies , the mechanical door outside opens again and from the noise of the engine, I know it's Kenny again. But his car is not the only one I hear. I'm going to break his head.

I lean back on the gigantic cheslong , preparing myself mentally and psychologically for what is coming my way.

-What's up, man!? —Ray jumps in and touches the frame of the large access door to the living room.

My God, what a pity you are, Duncan tells me.

Fuck you. You, we'll talk—I frown at Kenny—and give me back my keys right now.

Yes, yes, he hesitates with his eyes. How long do you plan to continue like this?

God, I don't know how you can be so annoying. I cross my feet on the white leather in front of the TV, and change the channel.

"Man, you need to finish healing that knee and get back into shape. —The billiard balls rattle as Ray sets them up to play.

I'm in shape now, I say, getting up and grabbing a stick to join him.

Yeah, come on, he laughs, and the other two follow suit, super fit.

Stop warming me up because I'm kicking you three out of here, I tell them as we all watch my red ball go through the hole. I go with the smooth ones.

Let's see... Ray rests his hands on the end of his stick and acquires a thoughtful expression.

—Do you think that after playing in the NBA, I want to start teaching some brats? Come on, it's your turn." I point to the pool table, trying to change the subject.

Hey, it could be interesting, Duncan backs him up.

—Don't scratch me with that shit anymore, I'll see what I do.

You need a job to be able to continue allowing yourself the luxuries that you allow yourself. Ken's hand gets in the way and he picks up another of the spheres he was going to strain. Like this house." He looks around. Your car. Your motorcycle. I follow?

No, I walk over and take the ball from her hands, shut up already. For this you have come? I snort looking at the ceiling and mentally count to three.

—Well, you should make up your mind soon because we've gone ahead...

What the hell have you done? I look fearfully at the three.

We got you an interview. Kenny avoids my eyes and bites the inside of his cheek.

Very good, I burst out laughing when I think I'm being fooled.

But no, they look at each other and then at me, Duncan scratches his head and mutters something to himself that I can't quite hear. Leaving the stick against the wall, I walk over to them, who move back and stand behind the sofa.

Man, that's a good job. Ray speaks with feigned calm.

You've found me a job, they agree. Even though I've told you a thousand times to leave me alone," they nod again. Do I speak a language that you don't understand!?

Just try. Ken rolls his eyes and walks over, he's the bravest. If you don't like it, leave it.

I huff and plop down on the couch, rubbing my eyes and giving up the fight. The other two walk cautiously and sit in the opposite one, watching me and waiting for me to speak. I look from one to the other and shake my head.

-What is it about?

-Teacher.

No, I get up flatly denying.

-Uncle.

No, I say again, pacing back and forth. I refuse, no way am I going to be a teacher.

ALYSSA

Shit, I'm late, shit. And on top of this look. And the first day of class. Could anything go worse? Damn Britany and Joyce for leaving me alone, they're going to find out, I'm giving it back to them.

I run down the hallway, looking in all directions and covering myself as best I can so nothing can be seen. I get to my classroom door and stop in front of it, thank God everyone is already in their classrooms so they haven't seen me walking across campus in this lunatic state.

Okay, fuck him, Liss, I say to myself out loud.

I smooth my hair with my fingers and comb it to the best of my ability, though I doubt anyone is going to take notice of my appearance. I close my eyes, taking a deep breath, and open the door. The first thing I see, well, I hear, is the laughter of those two bitches who call themselves friends. They cover their mouths when they see me, and then the whispering begins. I look for Professor Tunner with my eyes, to make eyes at him and apologize, but I can't find him. In his place is a tall guy in a shirt, standing on top of the teacher's platform, looking at me with a raised eyebrow and a frown. Who is this?

Good morning, he says when he sees I'm not speaking.

Good morning, I move forward confused as I go to my seat.

Our class is the largest since we are many students in this degree, so they have given us a kind of small amphitheater. Tables run from side to side of the room, with chairs that lift up and fold down, and everything is on a slope, so I have to climb the side stairs to get to my seat.

Can you tell me why you're late for the first class of your third year at the university? he asks, sitting on the corner of his table.

-And you...? My voice is too haughty, I know.

Liss! Brit whispers to shut me up.

What's happening? No seminarian is going to blame me for being late. Besides, no one has warned us that he was going to be here.

I'm your new teacher. "Don't fuck with me.

Excuse me?

—Now, if you don't mind, I would appreciate it if you satisfied my curiosity, and I'm sure, that of all your companions. —She looks at the others and hides an obvious smile— Why did she arrive late and dressed in a... nightgown? Pijama? —A certain amused tone is appreciated in his voice. Cocoon.

"Well, you see, sir...

Sinclaire, he replies, getting up.

You see, Mr. Sinclaire, this I'm wearing—I point to my outfit with a pride I don't feel—it's not my pajamas, since I wear much less to sleep. His eyes widen in surprise, but he doesn't interrupt me. And since your curiosity is so great, I'm dressed like this because I lost a bet. My friends here - I say pointing at them - have made me wear this for my first day. Anything else you need to know?

I should learn to gamble.

-I agree. Can i sit?

-Yeah. He looks at me for a second longer and turns back to the class. As I was saying before the lady...

Mills, I fake smile.

Before Miss Mills broke into bedclothes But what's this about? —, this quarter's play will be Romeo and Juliet . A classic, I imagine that there is no one here who does not know it. If so, they should rethink studying this career.

Oh, Romeo, Romeo! Do you love me, Romeo!? Gus, the class joker, stands up and recites.

Everyone laughs and applauds, except the new one, who just looks at him without changing the expression on his face, which I can't see well from this distance.

-Is over? -The question.

I think so, he laughs as well, and sits down again.

-Thank you. I don't want one more interruption in my class.

Sinclaire looks to the back of the room in exasperation and nods. I turn and see Thomas raising his hand.

Are you Stephen Sinclaire? The Charlotte Bobcats player? Well now the Hornets.

Yes, he says, tensing up. I was, now I'm a teacher.

Won't you play again?

No, he answers curtly, making it clear to all of us that he wants to settle the matter.

NBA player, no wonder he is so tall.

He's fucking hot, huh, Joyce whispers.

—I can't see well from a distance, you know. But he's arrogant," I reply, looking at the athlete with the air of a professor.

An arrogant rich man I'd fuck, Brit says from beside him.

The three of us laugh, but fall silent when his gaze lands on us.

The class continues without major unforeseen events, except that those who leave class, and those who are not, do not take their eyes off my body for the whole hour. I can't blame them. The damn mischief with which these sluts have made me come to class is too obvious to pass for a dress, with so much transparency and shiny silk in the areas to be highlighted. But it is what it is, I could not miss a bet.

Don't forget to bring the updated manuals for tomorrow and the photocopies I've left for you to print. Sinclaire dismisses the class as we all get up and collect our things.

My goodness, Liss. Rob follows me down the stairs, his backpack slung over his shoulder, biting his lip. I hope you lose all the bets you make.

Shut up, idiot, I reply, laughing. I plan to return it to you, don't think that I don't know that you cheated to see me like this.

Guilty. He holds up his hand and bumps me playfully on the shoulder.

Guilty, Peter admits as well.

We continue down to the entrance without stopping laughing, and trying to cover my body with the folder. The other male partners give me seductive and hungry looks, while the female ones are disapproving.

God, you should have seen your face when you walked in, Brit tells me at the classroom door.

"Miss Mills, wait. -Oh shit.

Luck, they both say before winking at me and leaving.

I walk over to him and stop in front of his table, not getting on the platform, but he gestures for me to come closer, so I pull myself up and do it. I notice how, for a fraction of a second, his gaze drifts towards my legs as he separates them to go up. I laugh to myself, but I don't show any expression.

Now that I'm closer, I can observe him better. The first thing that catches my attention is the marked line of his jaw. Firm and defined, more than any I have seen before. He is surrounded by an incipient beard of a couple of days, which gives him a younger and more carefree appearance. I don't know how old he is, but I don't think he's more than twenty-five. How can you be a university professor at that age? Damn, and what a hanger he has, how does that suit look on him!

-He is not cold? he asks after several seconds looking at each other. I can't help but notice his full, pink lips as they move to articulate each word—Mills. I asked him if he's not cold —he repeats, getting a little closer.

Yes, I reply immediately. I've been asshole looking at his mouth, what a shame. But it was part of the bet, I couldn't bring anything with me," I clarify, hugging the folder against my body with my arms.

He makes me feel intimidated and small next to him, I think he's the tallest person I've ever seen.

—She shouldn't let anyone force her to come to class like that —she frowns and exhales a for God's sake as she undoes the only button on her jacket—Here, put on my jacket. He removes it slowly, trying not to wrinkle it.

No, no. I take a step back and hold up my hand. I live next door, in the residence.

Are you sure? He doesn't take his eyes off me with a doubtful expression.

Wow, I was so lost in his mouth that I hadn't noticed his eyes. An aquamarine the color of the stone with the same name. A blue that is looking at me with depth and confusion right now. A blue that hides thousands of questions.

STEPHEN

Yeah, he says with a small smile. Thank you anyway.

—Try to come a little more covered tomorrow.

Don't worry, he says before turning to leave.

I look again at her legs as she steps off the platform and toward the door, not to mention the rear I can imagine under the thin pink fabric. She turns before leaving and I think I see a hint of a smile on her face when she catches me looking at her. But, damn, how can I not look at her? Who would think of showing up in class dressed like that? For the love of God.

I collect my things and walk to my car, walking through the corridors of the university without feeling completely comfortable. I'm not an asshole, I know I'm the news of the day.

I think I see another professor waving for me to come over to him and his little group of lab rats, but I pass. I pretend I haven't seen him and weave through the gothic colleges to get to the staff car park. Several piles of people are lying on the grass, despite the fact that the day is not very hot. They talk and laugh and yell at each other like they're still in high school, they make me feel older than I fucking am. I ignore their glances and murmurs when they see me go by on the stone path and they begin to comment in a low voice. I better get used to this fast.

I've decided to bring the Audi, because if some brat scratches my Jaguar, I'll not only get fired, but I'll end up in prison. And right there I can end how I look at that girl again the way I looked at her today. When I have seen her enter class, agitated and hot, with the rowdy locks of her brown hair crashing against her breasts... Nothing good has crossed my mind. And when I asked her to come closer later, with the stupid excuse of asking if she was cold, when in fact I just wanted to observe her more closely.... Damn, what was I thinking? It's a baby, it's not even of legal age, I'm sick. Two months without sex is definitely too much. But, damn it, I'm a man and I have eyes. Besides, I haven't done anything that the rest of his classmates haven't been doing for the whole hour. They haven't taken their eyes off him.

Mills. I don't know why, but I think that last name will bring me more than one problem.

The deafening sound of my little one when I start, causes the few people who were not looking at me to raise their heads to do so. The truth is that if I look at the rest of the cars that are in the parking lot, they are not exactly junk, it shows that they charge like hell. But hey, there certainly aren't any like mine, so I guess it's going to take some getting used to. The one who is going to end up fucking me is going to be me, but not from them, but from the damn paparazzi that I can already see from here. Shit.

They can't pass! —I hear several security guards from the entrance of the campus, controlling that the vans do not access the property.

-There is! I put on my sunglasses and team cap as I approach them, forced to slow down to avoid hitting someone.

Sinclaire, here! A picture! But don't these people have anything better to do?

—How did you feel on your first day as a teacher?

Will you return to the NBA?

How's your injury going?

Let me pass, please! —I make a gesture of thanks to the man who opens the way for me, helping me out and being able to access the main road.

My God, I huff out loud and turn up the music to quiet the voices in my head.

ALYSSA

I hurried across campus, because I'm really cold and itching to get to my room and change. Thanks to my good friends, note the sarcasm, who have let me wear sneakers so I don't catch pneumonia.

I enter the residence, which is located about four or five hundred meters from my college and is advertised under the name: Artemisa Residence. Being the aforementioned the symbol of chastity and virginity, you can imagine how strict they are with male visits inside the building.

I avoid the gazes of the rest of the girls and walk to the stairs, go up to the second floor, as fast as I can, and walk down the hall to the door numbered 203. I bend down to open it with the key that I am wearing around my neck and I go in quickly.

Bastards, I say to Joy and Brit, slamming the door shut.

"Come on, that was funny. Acknowledge it. —The first one laughs as I leave my things on the desk.

-For you. —I take off my mischief, staying in my underwear and slippers.

Why did he want you, solid man? Brit asks me.

I open the closet and take out a pair of sports pants and a T-shirt, I put it on at full speed and go to my bed again.

God, I'm frozen. I grab the blanket and throw it over my shoulders. Nothing, touching my nose with idiotic questions.

He's too hot to be a teacher.

The truth is that he is very attractive, I assume.

-Attractive? It's a full-fledged hottie! she insists.

Come on, get changed and let's go. I nudge Brit, who's sitting on the edge of my bed, with my foot.

I'm already there Joy comes out of the bathroom already dressed.

Are you planning to go jogging in jeans? I ask him.

They're elastic, he answers with a tingle.

-Yourself.

We walk to the main park of the residence and pass under the arch that begins the sports area of the campus. Rugby players are already training on the field, and cheerleaders in the gym. We see them through the windows.

Shit, I'm late. Brit throws her bag over her