Do Over: A Second Chance Sports Romance: Winthrop Wolves Book 1

by Zoey Shores

  “So, about time to break the ice here,” Lincoln declares. “You two went out in high school, I hear?”

  “Yep,” is Heidi’s answer. It’s a short reply, about as short as can be, but we both know that now that we’re here with the guys with forty-five minutes to spare, we’re not gonna get off that easy.

  “Was he always this ugly?” Archer asks, drawing uproarious laughter from the rest of the guys; myself included.

  “No comment,” Heidi reflects the question in between laughs.

  “Well, she was always this beautiful,” I answer, leaning forward with my elbows on my knees, pinning her down with an unwavering gaze. A silence passes over the room as the provocative nature of my comment is unmistakable.

  Good. I don’t want Heidi to mistake my intentions anymore. I want her to know exactly what I want.

  “What was he like back then?” Lincoln asks a safe, open-ended question.

  “Well …” Heidi muses, looking up to the side, a pensive smile playing on her full, smooth lips. “He was funny. Smarter than anyone thought. His grades were bad because he never studied. He practically refused to study,” she chuckles.

  “Talk about opposites attract. Straight A student over there. Always had her head in a book.”

  Heidi rolls her eyes. “My parents were always on my ass about making honor roll every single marking period.”

  I guffaw. “My mom was happy as long as I wasn’t getting into trouble with the law like my brother.”

  “How is Ryan?” Heidi asks. Shit, I’ve hardly talked about my brother with Chase, Archer and Lincoln, and they’re practically like brothers to me themselves. Ryan isn’t my favorite subject to talk about, especially lately, when he seems to be getting himself into trouble again … after he seemed to be doing so well last year …

  “He’s alright, you know,” I say, noncommittally. “Never a dull moment with him. There never was, and there still isn’t. I’ll put it that way.”

  Talk about a euphemism.

  “How’d you two meet? Love at first sight? Let’s get to the juicy stuff,” Archer interjects.

  Heidi answers. “Oh, we knew each other for a while. We always lived in the same town, and it was a small town where everybody knew everybody. We went to elementary school together, middle school together …”

  “You had a crush on her since day one, Tanner?” Chase asks.

  “You bet,” I answer, my gaze still firmly planted on Heidi. Every now and then our eyes meet, but she quickly breaks eye contact. My gaze is hot and directed, and she’s not ready to match that energy yet.

  But I can feel it. She will be.

  The warm flush that’s been subdued at the bottom of Heidi’s neck begins to overtake her face, filling her cheeks and making them a plump, lively red. It’s clear she can tell she’s blushing, and the self-consciousness only reinforces it, casting a deeper red on her face. The sides of my mouth curl up in a wry smile. Fuck, she’s hot … hot and bothered … just how I like it.

  “She wouldn’t take a second look at me until I was a hot shot on the high school football team, though,” I jest.

  Heidi’s eyes widen and she hurried to protest. “That’s not true! We were friends for years before --”

  I cut her off with a hearty laugh. I used to always tease her about only wanting me because I was the star quarterback. We both knew it wasn’t true. And the way she reacted with indignation at the idea that she would only be interested in me because I’m an athlete spurs an optimism in my heart. She really is the same old Heidi.

  With any other girl, I might never know. Especially if I end up getting drafted to the NFL. I might never truly know if they’re with me because of who I am – who I really am – or because of my job, because I’m famous, because I’m making money … if that day ever comes.

  But with Heidi … I’ll know. Heidi’s no jersey chaser. She never was. If Heidi’s with me … it’s because she likes me for who I am, not for what I do on the field. Just like back in high school.

  “I know, I know. You know I always teased you about that,” I put her indignity to rest.

  She softens her gaze, and a warm smile takes possession of her face. “You did,” she replies, whimsically, as if she’s reminiscing just as much as I am.

  We chat back and forth a bit more. The subject drifts away from my and Heidi’s past. Heidi and Lincoln, Chase and Archer all get to know each other, talking about their backgrounds, their different experiences, and their plans after college.

  Only Lincoln, along with myself, really has a backup plan if professional football doesn’t pan out: accounting. Archer and Chase have all their chips in football. I don’t know if either of them could really buckle down and focus on a demanding major. Honestly, sometimes it makes me worry for them. They should both have a promising future in the NFL, but when it comes to sports, you never know. A career-ending injury is always just one wrong play away.

  The buzzer on the oven dings. It’s ready.

  “Moment of truth,” Archer quips.

  We all walk over to the over as I remove the meatloaf from the rack and set it on the kitchen counter.

  “Doesn’t look half bad,” Lincoln allows.

  “Yeah, it looks three-quarters bad,” Chase follows up without missing a beat.

  I fling the washcloth in my hand at Chase’s face. I bring out the plates and divvy up the meatloaf among the five of us.

  “No side?” Archer asks. My middle finger answers him silently as I gather up forks for us.

  “Shall we allow the guest the first bite?” Chase proposes, looking at Heidi.

  “Alright,” she says, tentatively. She cuts her fork into the meatloaf and brings a piece of it up to her face and into her mouth …

  All the color drains from her face. She chews once. Her eyes widen and her jaw ceases motion. Her lips are tightly pursed and puckered.

  That says it all.

  Archer’s just about rolling on the floor laughing, and Chase and Lincoln are not too much more composed.

  “That bad?” I ask, disappointed. I mean, shit. I didn’t expect it to be good, but I did at least expect it to be edible.

  With visible effort, she chews her bite and swallows it. She lets out a loud, long exhalation after the meatloaf has made its way down her throat.

  “Maybe it’s an … acquired taste,” she softens the blow.

  The three other guys try it and have much the same reaction, except loader, and they follow it up with copious verbal feedback about just how dire that God-forsaken thing I somehow made was.

  I try a bite myself and can hardly deny their judgment.

  “Maybe it was all the Worcestershire sauce ... “ I muse.

  “Shit, man,” Archer complains. “After all this talk of meatloaf, I’m actually hungry now. But we sure as hell can’t eat this.”

  My stomach’s growling, too. We could always order a pizza or something, after all, we already snapped a picture of the finished product and posted it to the team Instagram for Coach Riker’s “proof” that we’re not just eating greasy crap like pizza and hamburgers …

  But all of us have too much respect for Coach Riker to do something like that. He instituted this regime for a reason, and we all trust and respect him enough to stick to it.

  Heidi fishes her phone out of her pocket. “Let me call Rory. She’s a good cook. I’ll have her bring over some stuff we have in our refrigerator and she can make us dinner.”

  “Damn, really?” Chase is excited.

  “Yeah, she loves cooking for groups. I know she won’t mind at all.”

  “Thanks for bailing me out, impartial observer,” I say to Heidi as she brings up her roommate’s contact info on her phone.

  “Any time,” she smiles back.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN: HEIDI

  Rory arrives in about twenty minutes, carrying bags full of ingredients. I answer the door for her and lead her down the short hall into the main living area of the house, where she’s greeted
with cheers and clapping by the guys.

  “What did you get me into?” she laughs at the reception, shaking her head.

  “The real MVP!” Chase gives a standing ovation.

  “I apologize for my roommates. The hunger is making us go insane, I think,” Luke excuses them.

  Rory casts a skeptical eye at Luke. “Your aim get any better since the last time we met?” she jokes, recalling the stray football pass that collided with the side of my head. Hard to believe that was just a couple weeks ago. If I hadn’t met Luke like that – or any other way – on my first day back at Winthrop … I probably would have never written that expose that featured in the first edition of the student paper. I might never have even gotten the chance to get this full time Wolves assignment, let alone actually won it.

  Thinking of it that way, how much of my future success might I really owe to Luke throwing an errant pass that found the side of my face rather than his receiver’s hands?

  “First of all, my aim’s always perfect,” Luke shoots back. “Secondly, it wasn’t my aim, but this doofus’ hands that let that ball fly out of control.” He points his thumb back at Archer.

  “Nah, you were rusty that day. Your aim was off,” Archer retorts.

  “You kids could go back and forth like this all night,” Lincoln intervenes. “Let’s give the good lady who came over to rescue us some peace and quiet while she cooks. Is there anything we can do to help?”

  Rory walks over to the counter and sets out all the ingredients she brought over. “Nah, I’m good. Too many hands and all that. I prefer to cook alone.”

  “Wise choice,” I add.

  After eating, Luke proposes we hang all out in their backyard for a while. Behind their house is a small, square backyard.

  It’s the first night of the season where the air feels cool and brisk for the first time in a while. We’re in the middle of September now -- summer is just starting to really feel over. I’m still comfortable wearing jeans and a light long-sleeve shirt, but there’s enough of a chill edge to the air, and a brisk breeze has just enough bite, to let me know that autumn is approaching, and will have usurped summer officially before I know it.

  The first presentiments of the new season add to the surreal feeling of being at Luke Tanner’s house. At the very end of summer break I never would have imagined all that has transpired since the beginning of the semester.

  “So, what do you study?” Archer asks Rory as we settle down in the lawn chairs they have set up in front of a cheap plastic table outside. Chase and Lincoln join us with some beers to go around.

  “Theatre,” Rory answers, opening her beer and taking a swig. The relief on her face after the first sip reminds me how stressful the last couple weeks have been for her, and makes me feel bad that I’ve been too busy with my own projects this semester so far to be there for her as much as I wish I could. “I’m directing our biggest play this semester, which is something I’ve wanted to do since I came to Winthrop two years ago … but I didn’t realize how stressful it was going to be.”

  Rory’s excitement at directing the play has gradually morphed into exasperation over the past two weeks. She’s been venting to me regularly about problems with the actors: some think they deserve better parts, some want to approach certain scenes in non-traditional ways while others are dead-set on sticking to the script, not to mention the efforts it takes to coordinate all the behind-the-scenes workers … it’s no secret that actors can be primadonnas, but I guess I didn’t really expect you’d have to deal with that when it comes to college theater productions.

  “What’s the play?” Archer asks. His attention to Rory and interest in learning more about her is obviously more than just him casually making conversation. The idea of quirky, artistic Rory with a big, boisterous jock like Archer strikes me as hard to picture … but then again, that’s what every said about me and Luke all the time back in high school.

  “Macbeth,” Rory answers, the exasperation already evident in her voice.

  Archer chuckles. “I love Macbeth. You don’t sound too excited about it. What, you’d prefer something more modern?”

  “No, it’s not that,” Rory answers. “It’s just a lot to manage. The cast is a nightmare. I swear, I never noticed how obnoxious actors can be when I was just one of them. And all the other shit a director has to deal with and manage. So many people wanting different things, people stubborn in their ideas, wanting different roles, having different visions of what a performance should be … can’t they just get on the stage and recite the lines!? That’s what I did! I’m starting to second guess even wanting to become a director after this …”

  Before I know it, Rory’s finished with her first beer and asking for another. Geez, I never realized what a rough time she was having since she accepted the job two months ago. It makes me feel sad, especially remembering how excited she was when she first told me the news.

  “Don’t say that, Rory!” I hasten to try and uplift her. “It’s just because it’s your first time. It’s common for people to get stressed out when they’re trying something for the first time. It’s a learning process. You’ll make it through, and you’ll get the hang of it. It’ll be easier the next play you direct, and the next one after that will be even easier. Before you know it, directing will be as natural to you as acting is. Don’t give up or lose hope.”

  “That’s right,” Archer agrees. “I couldn’t tell you how many times I had second thoughts about whether or not I could really do this after I came to play for Winthrop last year?”

  “Really?” Rory asks, surprised.

  Archer nods. “Definitely. I found myself in way over my head. The level of play I was able to get away with at my last school definitely wasn’t cutting it here. And there was a lot of pressure on me, especially since Coach Riker took a big risk bringing me in. The guys who were on the team before Coach Riker took over were huge assholes. I hadn’t really gotten to be friends with these guys yet,” Archer motions around toward Luke, Chase and Lincoln. “So much more was expected of me than ever before. I thought I might as well quit because I just didn’t have what it takes …”

  “I bet we all felt like that, at least for a little while,” Luke agrees. “When you start something big, something more challenging than you’ve ever done before, it’s natural to run into some adversity at first. And if it’s something you’ve been dreaming about for a long time, it can be really discouraging. I bet it happens to just about every player newly joining a major football program, and I bet it happens to just about every director, too. But if you stick it out, it’ll be worth it.”

  Rory’s face looks more relieved after our group pep-talk. “Maybe you’re right,” she answers, still not entirely convinced.

  “Trust me, you’ll see. You’ll end up doing great,” Archer says with a twinkle in his eye, his gaze soft on Rory, his smile highlighting two deep, impressive dimples on his sculpted cheeks. He’s an incredibly good-looking man himself.

  As I pass my gaze from Archer over to Luke, though, I realize … as good looking as Archer is, tall, muscular, masculine, dashing … objectively, he’s about as handsome as Luke -- but when I look at Luke, it’s not only the objective perfection of his facial features that strikes me, but there’s an unmistakable and irreplaceable familiarity, a warmth … it’s hard to explain, but I feel a sense of belonging when I look at Luke. On top of all the other things his face and body make me feel, even though I might like to pretend they don’t.

  I finish my beer and grab another. It feels nice relaxing like this. I can’t believe how comfortable it’s starting to feel around Luke. What are we becoming, exactly? Friends? Can we be just friends? Is he interested in me, still? As more than just a one-night hook up?

  Can I afford to get back together with Luke? I mean, if he even wants to? Do I have the time? Is it even appropriate? Would it jeopardize my assignment covering the Wolves? This assignment means way too much for me, is way too important for my future, t
o justify putting it at risk for, what, some fling?

  Of course, it might be silly of me to even worry about something like that. This is still Luke Tanner we’re talking about. Maybe a girl like me was appealing to him back when he was a small-town high school kid, but here at Winthrop, with beautiful college girls practically – and often literally – throwing themselves at him every single day, could he really commit to a relationship? With me of all people?

  I take an extra-long sip of my beer and try to put my thoughts at rest. This semester has been so busy and stressful already, and promises to be even moreso as the weeks go on, that I need to try and take advantage of any relaxation I can get. And even though being with Luke stirs up so many questions in my mind, right now, I’m going to try to just enjoy the cool, refreshing weather and the chill atmosphere.

  We’re casually chatting amongst each other, talking about each other’s backgrounds and plans for the future. All of Luke’s friends hope to make it to the NFL after getting drafted next year, obviously.

  “Anyone else think that Sage has been seeming distracted lately?” Chase asks, once the conversation drifts to the topic of the other players on the team, and who they do and don’t get along with.

  “Yeah, he’s been having some pretty lackluster practice sessions lately,” Luke chimes in. “Coach was really letting him have it last Thursday.”

  “Remember that girl he was talking about the night we met him, when he was drunk?” Lincoln asks. “He mentioned last week that she’s been accepted to transfer into Winthrop next semester. She’s visiting the campus sometime in October for a tour. I bet that has something to do with it. Whatever’s going on between them seems complicated.”

  “To say the least,” Archer agrees.

  Chase sighs dramatically. “Ah, young love. Good thing our boy will be able to deal with that in the off-season next semester.”

  “Speaking of young love, is there some romantic backstory about how you two finally got together?” Archer asks, directed at me and Luke. “You’ve been so coy about it all I’m sure you’re holding out on us.”