The Backup Plan: A Friends to Lovers Sports Romance (One Pass Away: A New Season Book 2)

by Mary J. Williams

  The lesson was hard, but Piper refused to live with regrets. She drew her strength and support, not from her blood relatives, but her friends. The family she chose, not the one she was born into.

  “Your mother called my office for an appointment,” Erin said as she twirled some pasta around her fork.

  “No.” Piper shook her head. “The doctor’s office is one of my safe spaces. The idea of meeting my mother there is too horrifying to contemplate.”

  “I’m not taking on new patients,” Erin assured her. “Even if I were, I’ve met your mother. The woman asks too many personal questions.”

  “I know,” Piper sighed. “The last time I agreed to one of her blind date fix-ups, she called the poor man the next day to ask if we had sex.”

  “She didn’t,” Riley asked with a gasp. “How did you find out?”

  “He let me know—in a text,” Piper said. “I forget his exact words. I never want to see you again because your mother’s a psycho, sums it up pretty well.”

  “At least your date got off easy.” Darcy patted her hand. “Your mother treats you like a commodity with a dwindling shelf-life that she wants to sell off to the highest bidder before you hit your expiration date.”

  “True,” Piper sighed.

  “And your brothers?” Darcy continued. “Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumber, pop up now and then like turds in the punch bowl of your life.”

  “Ew!” Erin grimaced. “Sounds delightful.”

  “Mostly, Warren and Teddy keep their distance.” Piper’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “They learned not to mess with little sister. She bites—hard.”

  “There you go.” Darcy gave Piper a high five.

  Piper purposefully steered the conversation away from her family. By the time the dessert arrived—five brightly decorated cupcakes—the mood was light and filled with laughter.

  “Your big birthday cake will be delivered to your door later tonight. I expect you and Levi to save me a piece,” Darcy said. “As a test run, blow out the candle and make a wish.”

  Piper paused. What could she possibly wish to possess that she didn’t already have? World peace would be nice, but unrealistic since the mathematical variables were mindbogglingly difficult to calculate—even for her. The same could be said about so many things she might hope for but couldn’t realistically obtain.

  In the end, Piper’s wish was simple. She wanted more days like today. With her friends. Happy and healthy.

  Taking a bite of the cupcake, Piper jumped when a blaring noise that resembled a police car’s siren erupted from Darcy’s purse.

  “Are we about to be arrested,” she asked as Darcy reached for her bag.

  “Knights’ news text alert,” Riley said. Already on her phone, a worried frown marred her forehead. As she read the words on the screen, her expression turned stone cold. “Son of a—”

  “Damn.” Briefly, Darcy closed her eyes. “Of all the irresponsible… Sorry, Piper. We need to go.”

  Riley was already out the door, but Piper managed to grab Darcy’s hand before she could leave.

  “What happened?”

  “Monte Oliver,” Darcy ground out the name. “He ran his car into the front of the Bellingham Walmart.”

  Startled, shocked, her mind suddenly blank, all Piper could do was blink.

  “Is he okay?” Erin asked, her emergency training kicking in. “Was anyone else hurt?”

  “Thankfully, no. As for Monte, I can’t say for sure. The message said he was conscious. Which is good.” Darcy gripped her purse so tightly her knuckles turned white. “Though by the time I get done with him, he might just wish he was dead.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  ▲ ▼ ▲ ▼ ▲

  “Reckless fool,” Levi muttered as he walked down the corridor toward Monte Oliver’s hospital room. “If he wanted to give a lesson on how to destroy a career, he succeeded in vomit-inducing style.”

  “Somehow the only thing the jerk totaled was his sports car,” Dylan said with a disgusted sigh. “He could have killed someone. Then his life would be ruined.”

  “Pays to be lucky, I guess,” Levi agreed.

  “Think he’ll ever play professional football again?”

  “If he’d proved himself on the field, I’d say his chances were good. We both know the NFL tends to turn a blind eye to a lot of misdeeds if the player is talented enough.” Levi shrugged. “A lot of teams will give a guy a second or third chance if they think he can bring the team a few wins.”

  Levi and Dylan exchanged knowing looks. They loved the game of football. However, the owners almost always put business first. Though in recent years, the commissioner took a harder line on drug abuse and domestic violence, now and then the league still turned a blind eye.

  “One thing’s almost certain,” Dylan said. “Between the drunk driving charges and the injuries sustained in the crash, Monte won’t play football again this year.”

  “Seems unlikely,” Levi agreed. “Though stranger things have happened. If he heals faster than expected, you never know.”

  “The Knights won’t have him back,” Dylan said with absolute certainty.

  Dylan was right. Monte had burned his last bridge with the team that drafted him out of college. He’d been on thin ice before today’s accident. Now, all that was left beneath the former college standout’s feet was frigid water. If he were smart, he’d swim as fast as possible to the nearest rehab facility.

  Levi wanted to believe that Monte would view what happened in the Walmart parking lot as a wakeup call. As a chance to ask for help and rebuild his reputation and his career.

  “Monte’s ego is too big and his head too thick. He won’t admit he has a problem,” Dylan said, easily reading Levi’s thoughts because they mirrored his. “What do you want to bet he has an excuse? Faulty brakes, most likely. Or, he wasn’t drunk, the breathalyzer test was faulty.”

  “Nothing we haven’t heard before.” Dreading what was to come, Levi stopped at the hospital room door. “Remind me again why we’re here?”

  “Don’t ask me,” Dylan said. “You’re the one who insisted we come. Remember? When I balked, you said, and I quote, ‘Solidarity between teammates is an unwritten rule.’ Unquote.”

  “And you bought into that piece of crap reasoning?” Levi grumbled. “You never listen. Why’d you pick today to start?”

  “Because I knew you’d come even if I refused.” Dylan’s lip curled into a sneer. “You have a streak of nobility too long and wide for anyone’s good.”

  “Look who’s talking,” Levi argued. “How many times have you bailed your brother out of one fix or another?”

  “Last time was the last time,” Dylan said, a hard edge entering his voice. “Mom can lay the guilt on as thick as she wants, I won’t budge.”

  Sympathetic to the pressure family could bring, yet unconvinced Dylan could break the cycle he’d been in most of his life, Levi took out his phone and hit the record button.

  “What?” Dylan demanded with a frown as he pushed the phone away from his face.

  “Repeat what you just said. I want to have a copy to replay when you’re about to cave like the last time. And the time before. And the time before that.”

  “Fuck off,” Dylan said and pushed his way past Levi.

  Suppressing a chuckle, Levi followed. The room was large and filled with flowers. The overdone floral arrangements reminded him too much of a funeral for comfort, but that was his opinion—one he planned to keep to himself since he was certain the senders meant well.

  When the sound of laughter greeted them, Dylan shot a look of surprise at Levi. They’d expected something a tad more somber. Instead, Monte was surrounded by a jovial group of men close to his age.

  “Look who’s here,” Monte called out from his bed. “Levi and Dylan. Come and meet my posse.”

  “Posse?” Dylan whispered out the side of his mouth. “They look more like white rapper rejec
ts.”

  Levi covered his laugh with a cough as he shook hands with the group of friends. His gaze turned to Monte. The young man didn’t look half bad, all things considered Then again, he didn’t look great, either. Depended on which point of view a person chose to take.

  “How are you feeling?” Dylan asked.

  “Royally pissed,” Monte huffed. “Between the faulty brakes on my car and the asshole cop who screwed up the sobriety test, my lawyer says I have good grounds for a couple of lawsuits.”

  Dylan made the right call, Levi thought. Bad brakes and a messed-up breathalyzer. While it seemed unlikely Monte would get too far on either claim, delusional jerks tended to grasp at the most minute straws.

  “One thing I can’t complain about is the service.” His cocky grin firmly in place, Monte rubbed his chin. “I have a pretty little nurse who can’t do enough for me. She happily shaved my handsome face without a single nick. Can hardly wait for my sponge bath.”

  Monte’s skeevy laugh—echoed by his cohorts—made Levi’s skin crawl. He made a mental note to stop at the reception desk on the way out and strongly recommend the hospital give their celebrity patient in room 455 a male nurse from now on.

  “What’s the damage?” Levi asked as he nodded toward the pair of casts on Monte’s right arm and left leg.

  “A couple of clean breaks,” Monte said. “Doctor thinks I should be ready for action before the end of the season.”

  With only ten weeks left—eleven with the bye week—Levi doubted that such a quick recovery was possible. Doctors tended to give conservative estimates which made him wonder if Monte hadn’t heard what he wanted and ignored the rest.

  “Better to take your time, do a thorough rehab, and make certain your injuries are fully healed before you try to make a comeback,” Levi reasoned.

  “Listen to the old man,” Monte scoffed. His affable expression turned sour. “Think you’ll finally get your shot at starting QB? I’ll eat my cleats if management isn’t on the phone right now lining up someone younger and more talented.”

  Levi could see the tension enter Dylan’s body. He shook his head, telling his friend not to make a scene. While the support was appreciated, for once, Monte was probably right. The truth stung, but he’d dealt with this kind of situation before and the result was always the same.

  Fans wanted wins and teams wanted their fans to be happy. Bringing in someone with more experience, preferably with a recognizable name to boot, made sense from a business standpoint. Hell, if Levi ran the team, he’d do the same. Sentiment for an old veteran with little playing time under his belt held little sway when the bottom line was ruled by dollars and cents.

  Resigned to his lot in life as a perpetual backup, Levi couldn’t help but feel like an old wound had been ripped open—just a bit. In the past, he’d lived with the pain and disappointment and didn’t see any reason why this time should be different.

  Levi’s phone rang. Glad for the distraction, he glanced to see who the call was from and sighed. Chances were, he knew what was coming but that didn’t mean he had to let Monte Oliver bear witness.

  “I’ll be going.” Levi motioned toward Dylan to follow. “Take care, Monte.”

  “Damn, I’m glad to get out of there,” Dylan said as he and Levi exited the hospital room. “Thank whoever is on the phone for me.”

  “It’s Mac,” Levi said, referencing the Knights’ head coach.

  Silently, Dylan held up both hands. Every finger was crossed.

  “Coach.” Levi cleared his throat. “What can I do for you?”

  “Where are you?” Joshua McClain asked in a brisk voice.

  “Just finished visiting Monte,” Levi answered.

  “That son of a—” Mac took a deep breath. “I saw him earlier. Prognosis is good.”

  Levi's lips quirked into a half-smile. In his younger, hotheaded days, Mac’s response would have been much less circumspect. As a player, he had a well-earned reputation as a hothead. The time between his career-ending injury and the day he was hired to lead the Seattle Knights, he’d learned to handle his emotions, channeling them with positive energy, not negative. However, when your starting quarterback pulled a major bonehead move, keeping his temper in check had to be a challenge.

  “I admire your restraint,” Levi said.

  “You and me both,” Mac said, his voice grim. “Since he isn’t at death’s door, Monte Oliver is rock bottom on my priority list. I need you to get your ass over to Knights’ headquarters, ASAP. Meet me in the GM’s office.”

  “Wilco, Coach.”

  “Wilco?” Dylan asked with a snort. “When did you become G.I. Joe?”

  “Wasn’t thinking.” Thoughtfully, Levi returned his phone to his pocket.

  “Since when? Your brain never stops thinking,” When Levi didn’t respond, Dylan’s teasing expression turned serious. “What did Coach say?”

  “He wants to see me at Knights’ headquarters. ASAP.”

  “Good news.” Dylan perked up. “Coach wants to name you starting QB face to face.”

  “Don’t be so sure,” Levi said.

  “Why not? Now that Monte did us all a favor and put himself out of commission, you’re the next in line,” Dylan reasoned. “Damn certain you’ve paid your dues.”

  “Ever seen a movie where the lead guy is waiting to hear if he has a terminal decease? If the prognosis is good, he gets the news over the phone.” Levi sent Dylan an ironic smile. “Bad and our hero is told to come into the doctor’s office.”

  “Just to be clear?” Dylan asked. “Coach is the doctor and you’re the hero?”

  “Yup.” Levi nodded. Slowly, he exhaled. “Something tells me what’s left of my football career was just put on life support with a do not resuscitate order attached—just in case.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  ▲ ▼ ▲ ▼ ▲

  LEVI PARKED HIS car near the entrance to the Knights’ headquarters. Adjusting his sunglasses against the glare of sunlight streaming from the impossibly bright November sky, he rolled his long frame out from behind the steering wheel.

  A chilly breeze blew off nearby Lake Washington, swirling across the parking lot, around Levi’s ankles and up the length of his body. With a slight shiver, he zipped up his chocolate brown leather bomber jacket to under his chin.

  Levi walked toward the entrance, his boots crunching with each step along the gravel lined surface. Though the Knights’ played their home games in downtown Seattle, the rest of the time, the team and management spent their time in Kirkland at a nineteen-acre, state of the art facility.

  Most days, Levi would have headed toward the workout compound where he and his fellow Knights had access to everything and anything to help keep their bodies in tip-top shape. A swimming pool, weight rooms, a sauna, whirlpool baths, plus machines designed to measure muscle mass versus body fat.

  Levi’s commute from his home was a mere thirty minutes and he took advantage of the fact daily, even in the off-season, taking pride in keeping his body in playing form—even if he never touched a football in a pressure-packed game environment.

  Fit, toned and muscled, but not jacked up to the point where he lost his mobility, Levi was in better shape now than when he was in college and started every game.

  Some would say he was the perfect candidate to step into the starting quarterback job. Physically, he was in top form. He knew the playbook backward and forward. Levi could recite the calls in his sleep. And he’d already earned the respect and loyalty of his team.

  Theoretically, he could step in and be the leader the Knights so desperately needed.

  Trouble was, football wasn’t played with theories. By every dictate of the game, Levi had too many strikes against him. At thirty-two, he was too old, too inexperienced, and too much of a has-been for anyone with half a brain to put their trust in him.

  “Face facts,” Levi told himself as he rode the elevator to the top floor. “Your glory d
ays are a thing of the past.”

  Levi stopped getting his hopes up long ago. Today was no different. And while he appreciated that Coach McClain wanted to give him the bad news in person, his gut clenched. He didn’t relish the idea of sitting through one more speech about why management decided to go in a different direction.

  Everyone expected Levi to bite the bullet, be a good sport, and put the team first. And, as always, he would. By now, he’d become such an expert at taking bad news, his fake smile easily passed for real.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Reynolds.” Terra Cray said with a smile as he approached her desk.

  Assistant to Darcy Stratham, the Knights’ first-year general manager, Terra was ruthlessly stylish, loyal, dazzlingly efficient, and a barracuda when it came to protecting her boss. All attributes Levi found admirable and slightly terrifying.

  “How do you get younger when the rest of us continue to fight the ravages of time?” Levi asked, sending the older woman a smile.

  Shaking her head, the ends of her dark bobbed hair brushed her shoulders.

  “How do you manage to get more charming by the day?” the receptionist countered.

  “Everyone needs to be good at something,” Levi said as he raised her hand to his lips.

  “Only you can pull off the hand kiss without looking cheesy or lecherous.” Terra chuckled with a teasing glint in her eyes. “Or both.”

  “Men like me are a rare and dying breed,” Levi admitted, tongue in cheek. “I may be the last of my kind.”

  “Oh, I hope not.” Terra sighed. “Go right in. They’re waiting for you.”

  Levi reached for the door, then paused. He glanced over his shoulder.

  “Want to give me a preview of what’s to come?” he asked.

  Terra simply stared, blinking exactly once. Levi sighed. The woman had the kind of poker face a professional gambler would covet.