Blindsided: A Sports Romance Page 3
I slam the bowl onto the bench. “Sam.”
I try not to lose my cool with the kid and most times I succeed. After all, he’s the only person I have in this world and it’s my job to take care of him. But there’s one thing I can’t stand.
Maybe that’s to do with Sam’s father.
“I love you, babe. There’s no way you’ll get pregnant…”
Hey, I was sixteen. I didn’t know any better. Not that I’d have it any other way. Life without Sam wouldn’t be any life at all. We’ve grown up together, me and him. A lot has changed since that morning my math teacher Ms. Bell told me to go with her to the principal’s office. Instead of berating me for something like I’d expected, they sat me down and gently told me that what I’d assumed was a stubborn case of stomach flu might be a lot more life-changing than that.
“I’ll stand by you, babe.”
Yeah, that had lasted until he grew tired of my expanding belly and non-existent sex drive.
So you can understand why I won’t tolerate being lied to. Not even by the person I love most in the world.
He knows I’m pissed—I can tell by the stillness of his little body and the silence in the room.
“Sam,” I repeat. “I know you. If you’d already eaten, the sink would be covered in milk and soggy cereal. There’d be puddles all over the bench.”
“I’m sorry, Mom,” he whispers, coming over and sitting on the stool in front of me. “I thought if you believed me, then I’d get to play for longer. I’m trying to beat Kevin’s high score. He’s kicking my butt.”
“What did I tell you about lying, Sam?”
He sighs, peeking out at me from under the mop of hair he won’t let me cut. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t do it again, okay?” To be fair, the kid doesn’t make a habit of it. But I don’t want him turning into one of those people whose word means nothing. Because that’s the most important thing we’ve got, right?
He shakes his head, the picture of contrition. “I won’t. Mom, are you gonna lecture me? Because I don’t want to miss the bus.”
***
I roll my eyes and top up Van’s coffee. “Honestly, it was like this moment of realization. I’m turning into a boring mom. I thought I was teaching the kid principles. But I’m something to roll his eyes at. Oh. My. God.”
Van laughs and shakes her head. “Oh come on, Rose. That’s so not true. You’re twenty-four years old. You’re as cool as they come. You just… if you let him have his own way all the time then he’d go to school in his underwear and eat cookies and ice cream for every single meal. Just because you steer him in the right direction doesn’t make you a boring mom.”
I lean on the counter and sigh. “I’m all the kid’s got. I don’t want to nag him, but sometimes I feel like I want to wrap him up in cotton wool and protect him from the world. How do I do it? Like those stupid games—why won’t he see that he should be studying instead of frying his brain?”
Van shrugs. “I’m sorry, girl. I can’t help with the parenting dilemmas. What do I know? The only thing that’s fallen out of me is Jackson’s drunk dick.”
I wince. “Seriously? It’s barely nine in the morning.”
“Truth hurts,” she says, with a serious look on her face. Seconds later, she bursts into peals of laughter—that’s Van. She can never stay serious for very long. “Look, what I lack in parenting advice, I make up for in good times and cocktail knowledge. I have a proposal. Why don’t we make girls’ night in a girls’ night out?”
I shrug. “I don’t mind staying in. Actually, I’d prefer—”
Van narrows her eyes. “Boring mom.”
I wince. “That’s low. But even if I wanted to go out, it’s too late to find somebody to watch Sam.”
Van grins widely. “I’ve already precleared it with my mom.”
I shake my head. This woman is more organized than anyone I know. “How’d you know I’d be in a weird mood? Psychic powers?”
“No,” she says. “I woke up this morning and thought it’s been way too long since we had a night out together. I asked her then.” She leans closer and scrutinizes me. “But now that you mention it, you do seem weird.”
I wave my hand. “It’s this Sam stuff. Sometimes it bugs the hell out of me that I can’t get it right no matter how hard I try.”
Van nibbles her lip. “No, that’s not what it is. There’s something… Rose, have you gotten laid?”
A chill ripples through me. I don’t know why, but that question immediately makes me think of Jake. “No, of course not.”
“You sure? Your eyes are all sparkly. You know I’m usually right about these things.”
I roll my eyes as I finish the last of my coffee. “Van, I think I’d know about it if I’d gotten laid?” But I can’t meet her eyes. It feels like I’m lying to her, even though I’m not. I can’t remember the last time I even kissed a guy, let alone slept with one.
“Okay, whatever,” Van says, eying me suspiciously like she’s still trying to figure me out.
What am I supposed to tell her? It’s not like there’s a story—there’s just a tall, handsome guest who’s a bit flirty, that’s all. It happens all the time, so why is this guy any different?
I know why.
I actually like this guy.
“Jeez, Rose. I may have been wrong about you getting laid.”
Thank fuck for that.
“But there’s something up,” she continues. “It’s like your head’s in a completely different place. What’s going on?”
“Work stuff,” I bluster. It’s technically true, after all.
She stands and reaches for her purse. “Well, snap out of it. We’re going out tonight. So plan what you’re gonna wear.”
“I’m working until seven.”
“So? That’s not late. Fletch’s is open ‘til three.”
“I’ve got nothing to wear.”
“I’ll bring you a dress.”
“I’d rather curl up on the couch and watch movies.”
“Rose,” she says, coming around the counter and looking as if she’s going to tackle me to the ground. “You think you’re gonna meet a guy cooped up in here and dressed like that?” She gestures to my sweats, and it’s not in a favorable way.
Van is glamorous with a capital G. She co-owns her own publicity company with her boyfriend, so she’s always attending glitzy events. She’s got the best closet of anyone I know.
“You’ve got a point,” I admit. “But what if I don’t want to meet a guy? Huh?”
She rolls her eyes. “Well, a hookup then. Come on. Let your hair down. Call me when you’re leaving the hotel and I’ll come and meet you here.”
“Okay, fine.” I find myself agreeing even though I don’t want a random hookup. Well I do, but only with one guy in particular. And I don’t think we’re gonna find him in Fletch’s. Not unless he’s a banker in disguise. And with that body? I just know he’s not.
Although, come to think of it… How did he get to look like that by checking out hotel rooms undercover? Does he benchpress the beds or something?
Van snaps her fingers in front of my face and pulls me out of my thoughts. “You call me, you hear? If you don’t, I’m going to come to the hotel and drag you out by the hair. So help me god.”
I shudder. I know she’ll follow through.
“I promise.”
Chapter 4
Jake
“Oh come on, Thorne,” Denny yells, frustrated that I’ve missed another pass.
I understand where he’s coming from. If I was our quarterback, I’d be pissed as hell at me too. It’s the fourth one I’ve missed in a row. That might be almost forgivable in a game, but in training camp? When it’s just me and Denny without a defender in sight? That’s not good.
“What the hell is up with you?”
I shake my head. I know what’s up with me. It’s Rose. Ever since she came to my hotel room yesterday, I haven’t been able to think abo
ut anything else.
“Sorry, man. I’ll get it on the next one. Lucky fifth, right?”
“You’ve been partying too much, asshole. Your head’s not in it.”
“No I haven’t,” I yell, as I jog out, counting down the seconds in my mind.
I bolt into action, racing up the field in the way that’s second nature to me now. I may not have the most reliable hands on the roster, but I have the fastest legs by far. This time, I don’t allow my thoughts to distract me. I time my run to the line and barely turn my head as Denny’s ball falls out of the sky. I’m in position. I leap and grab it, never once slowing my stride.
It shouldn’t have taken me five tries to get it, though. That’s the worrying thing.
***
“It’s not gonna be so easy in a game situation,” Denny says, putting his arm around my shoulder as we head to the locker room.
“I know that, Ace,” I say.
Even though we’re the same height, it seems like he dwarfs me thanks to his bulk. I’m not a small guy, but compared to this dude I’m a shadow.
“I’m not a rookie.”
“I know you’re not, man. But that doesn’t mean you can afford to let your game go.”
He’s right, I know he is. Any more practice sessions like the one today and I’ll be off the team faster than I can say bankruptcy court. “Thanks, buddy. I’m not feeling so good. I’ll be better tomorrow.”
“You’d better be. Vickers is in town.”
My eyes widen. I’d completely forgotten. Mike Vickers doesn’t know shit about football, but he’s treated like a god around here. Why? Because he owns the entire team. One hundred percent. He spends most of his time managing his investment company in LA, but he gets out here a few times a year. And when he does, he likes it when we fawn all over him like he’s a rockstar.
“Early nights all round then.”
I’m happy to smile and parade for Vickers if it means holding on to my place on the team. I’ll just need all the energy I can muster. I hate talking football with somebody who knows sweet fuck all about the game I love.
Denny pulls me to him and squeezes me so hard that if I was an average dude my shoulders would damn near break. I’m used to being pummeled by juggernauts, though.
“No, party boy. No, you’re forgetting what night it is.”
“I haven’t forgotten anything.” I have so forgotten whatever it is he’s talking about. I try to think. It’s August 5th. It doesn’t ring any bells.
“Oh.” Denny stops and stares me down. “Well then refresh my memory.”
I shrug. “Okay, you got me. What’s on tonight? It’s not the Grizzlies Gala is it?” I’m pretty sure it’s not, but it’s the only event I can think of that would be allowed to clash with one of Vickers’s visits.
“Hell no. You think I’d be excited about that?”
The Grizzlies Gala takes place once a year. And Denny has a point—there’s no way any of us would be excited if it was coming up. It’s basically hell on earth without the warmth. Or the excitement. Six tedious hours of networking with corporate executives that’s written into all of our contracts. The only good thing about the gala is it raises money for good causes.
“I don’t know, Den. With you anything’s possible. You’d probably enjoy watching the rest of us suffer even though you’d be suffering alongside us.”
“You’ve got that right. No, it’s Armstrong’s birthday party.”
“Oh shit,” I groan as we walk into the locker room. “I completely forgot.”
Dale Armstrong is our star Defensive Tackle. And his parties are legendary. Last year, he booked out the entire Rocket Room. That was before I had a change of heart about my lifestyle and I made damn good use of the free bar and strippers. This year, I’m not so enthusiastic.
“Tell me he’s booked us all in for dinner and a movie?”
Denny catches me off-guard and barrels me backward, almost breaking my legs. Yeah, you try to argue that we’ve matured from our ten-year-old selves. “The fuck you talking about, Thorne? Have you gone and grown yourself a pussy or what?”
The next moment, Stevie is physically tearing us apart. “Calm down, assholes. I have enough of this shit to deal with at home.”
We fall silent. We might play for the same team, but the huge Linesman frightens the shit out of me. I can only imagine what it must be like for his three-year-old twins.
“That’s right.” He smiles his crooked grin. “But there’s one difference. It’s not against the law for me to kick the shit out of you two.”
Denny and I exchange a glance. I’m not sure if he’s being serious, but I don’t want to find out.
“You going to Dale’s party tonight, Stevie?” I ask.
He frowns. “That a trick question? Of course I am. Else I’ll never hear the end of his complaining. There’s another one who’s gotta act like a child all the damn time.” He strips off and marches to the showers, leaving Denny and me standing in silence.
“Least we’ll all be hungover for Vickers.” Denny shrugs and walks away, leaving me sitting there getting colder and colder as the sweat dries on my skin.
Even hours of intensive training haven’t managed to clear my mind. Not only do I have one secret that’s gonna bite me in the ass. Now I have two. What’s Rose gonna think if she picks up the paper tomorrow and there’s a picture of me partying it up with the boys? What’s she gonna think? I won a chance to hang out with them in Hotel Inspectors Monthly? They won’t allow cameras in the VIP room, but you can bet they’ll be lined up outside to catch us on the way in and out.
I need to tell her the truth, even though I can’t bear the thought of it.
It’s stupid. I’ve seen that she likes me for me. I’ve seen the way she looks at me. I’ve felt her lips on mine; felt the way she thrust her hips toward my erection right before she bolted from my room like some hot-as-fuck Cinderella.
And then I realize something with a jolt. I don’t want to spend the night partying. I want to hang out with her.
“Tomorrow,” I tell myself, before hitting the showers. “Tomorrow I tell her the truth.”
Rose
All I want to do is go home and watch a movie. I’ve had longer days, but this one takes the award for most disappointing. Maybe it’s because yesterday was so awesome: my little flirtation with Jake turning into the most panty-melting hot moment I can ever remember.
That kiss… oh my gosh, it took every bit of willpower I had to turn and walk out of his room. But I needed to.
I made up the story about flowers to throw Luca off the scent. I hadn’t even wanted to go up there, knowing it was too risky.
What can I say, though? I’m hooked.
Today, the pressure is relentless. A large group who accidentally booked into our property but have a conference in Lewisville. A wedding party. A VIP guest who demanded to know why he couldn’t have his usual suite when he didn’t call in advance to see if it was free. Having to call a bunch of people and tell them Marcus couldn’t make their meetings because he was out sick.
Sometimes I love my job, but today isn’t one of those days.
I get to my building and see Van’s car parked up the street. I smile at the sight, wondering if I’ll be able to convince her to stay in after all. I don’t know why I didn’t want to tell her about Jake earlier, but it’s the ace up my sleeve. Maybe that’s sneaky, but I know for a fact once I tell her there’s a guy that she’s going to want to hear all about him.
I unlock the door and wander inside, still breathless from the climb up four flights of stairs. I’m thrown by the sound of voices in the kitchen.
“Van?”
“In here,” she calls back. “There’s been a change of plan.”
“Oh?” I say, hoping that the new plan involves pajamas, chocolate, and a bottle of wine. I know, I know. Van is right: I’m boring.
When I get to the door, though, I see that I was wrong.
“Hi, Jackson.”
Jackson is some kind of public relations hotshot. He set up his own agency from scratch and turned it from a one-man operation in a low-rent complex off the highway to a large corporation with snazzy offices in the flashiest building in downtown Greenboro.
“Hi, sweetheart,” he says, standing back to take in my outfit. “We’re gonna need to get you changed.”
Yeah, despite his admirable business acumen, Jackson is one of those people who you just want to punch in the face. Hard. Too bad he’s stuck in my life—Van is certain he’s going to propose any day now. And she knows these things.
“I know,” I say, suppressing my first, second and third choices of response. “I’ve just finished work. I’m not in the habit of socializing in a peach-colored suit. What do you take me for?”
So maybe I should have refined that response a little more. “I’ll get changed,” I add quickly, rushing to my bedroom.
Van follows me. She’s carrying a garment bag, which doesn’t surprise me in the slightest. Like I said, this girl is as organized as you can be. It’s like she was born with some sort of clipboard attached to her fingertips.
“So I’ve brought some options. There’s the black bodycon. The gold flapper-style. And the gray silk sheath,” she says, unzipping the bag and hanging three gorgeous dresses on the door of my tiny closet.
“Wow,” I say, whistling through my teeth. “These are fancy.”
She grins and goes to open the drapes, immediately reminding me of my conversation with Jake yesterday. I hug my arms around myself and I’m just about to tell her about him when she spins around, eyes shining.
“You know how Jackson is amazing and talented and works for some of the biggest businesses in town?”
I nod and smile at my best friend. “Of course.”
“Well I didn’t know it, but he’s on retainer for the Grizzlies. He’s like their go-to guy when they need something straightened out with the media. Which is all the time, right?”