Tackling Love: A Sports Romance (Tackling Romance Series Book 1)

by Kathleen Kelly

  “Are we going, Colt?”

  I look down at my new little buddy. “Yeah, we are. You like fast cars? I brought the Corvette, and she’s cherry red.”

  “Excellent,” yells Blaise as he runs toward the parking area.

  It’s practice, and Blaise is sitting on the sidelines watching us. He’s cheering, and the cheerleaders are keeping an eye on him. Blaise is smitten with one of them, I think her name is Cindy. The league frowns upon us dating the cheerleaders, so I make it a point to be friendly but not too friendly. I don’t want anything jeopardizing my career.

  “Go, Colt,” yells Blaise.

  “Yeah, go Colt,” mimics my best friend and linebacker, Grayson Moore.

  “Fuck you, Gray.”

  “You nailed that pretty teacher again?” Grayson teases.

  “Can’t even get her to call me. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”

  “Have you tried asking her out? Nothing fancy like maybe dinner and a good bottle of wine. I’m sure she’d love it.”

  “You are giving me dating advice? Hell has officially frozen over.”

  Gray bursts out laughing.

  “Anders… Moore! You finding this funny? Get running until I tell you to stop,” bellows Coach Stevens.

  I groan, and Gray runs ahead of me. “Come on, quarterback, let’s see if you can catch me.”

  “I hate you, Gray.”

  Gray laughs as I jog up and down the field, but he’s always a few steps ahead. Grayson and I were picked for this team at the same time. Although we are completely different, we are great friends. I grew up with the picket fence in a nice neighborhood, and he grew up with a single mother who worked three jobs to give him everything she possibly could.

  His dad died when he was five. Grayson’s ma, Minerva, never recovered. She never remarried and lives for him. Gray goes home to her every Tuesday night, and she cooks him a meal. Home is now on the outskirts of town, a lovely ranch-style house on a nice piece of land. Minerva is a good woman, she invites me most weeks to come out and eat with them. I’ve never understood why she hasn’t remarried because, even in her late fifties, she’s a good- looking woman.

  After coach wears us out running up and down the field, we jog over to Blaise who’s staring smitten at Cindy.

  “Yo, Blaise! You ready to hit the road, little buddy?” I ask.

  He looks from me to Cindy and back again and says, “So, Cindy, we’re going for pizza, wanna come with us?”

  “Now, Blaise! I’m sure Cindy has a lot of cheerleading stuff to do,” I interject before Cindy can answer.

  Cindy sits on the bleachers. “Maybe, next time, Blaise. I have to go to my other job right now. But you and me, next time for sure… pizza, soda, and ice cream.”

  Cindy flashes him her biggest smile, ruffles his hair, and heads for the change rooms. Blaise watches her go with adoration written across his young features.

  “Damn, man, I think she likes you,” I say while grinning at him.

  Blaise stands and puffs out his chest. “Hells, yes, she does.”

  Gray and I both laugh. “Okay, Romeo, give us a minute to get changed, and maybe you can hook us all up,” teases Gray.

  “Man, you gotta have a game, and you don’t have any,” quips Blaise.

  “Oh! Burned,” I yell as I high-five Blaise.

  “Little punk,” mutters Gray, then he chases Blaise toward the locker rooms.

  It’s after eight by the time I get Blaise home. He’s wide awake, bouncing up and down in his seat talking excitedly about how most of the guys came with us for dinner. He’s telling me again how Gordon Smythe, a wide receiver on our team, sat with him and shared his pizza with him. I think he forgets I was there too.

  “Buddy… I know! We good for next week, or have you got plans?”

  Blaise goes quiet and looks uncomfortable. “I, uh… have something on.”

  “It’s cool, little man, if you have plans. I get it. Maybe later in the week or next week?”

  I pull up in front of his house and look over at him, his eyes are fixed on a car in the driveway.

  “You okay?” I ask.

  “My dad’s here.”

  There something in his tone I don’t like, so I unbuckle my seat belt and turn off the car. “You know I should probably come in and talk to your ma, she’s probably going to rip me a new one for getting you home so late. Let’s go in and face the music together.” I grin at him, but he simply nods.

  As we walk up the pathway to his house, the front door flies open, and a familiar face stomps out. It’s the guy who was with Skye at the bar.

  “You!” Derek yells as he strides toward me. His face is flushed with anger, and his fists are balled by his sides.

  “No, Derek. Stop!” screams Blaise’s mother, Maria.

  Derek reaches me, pulls back his arm, and throws a punch. I deflect, push his arm down, twist him, then pull it up behind his back.

  “Be calm, Derek, be calm. Blaise, buddy, why don’t you go inside and tell your ma about tonight and explain why we are late while I have a chat with your dad?”

  Blaise nods, and Maria wraps her arms around him as they head back inside. Derek’s struggling but can’t break free. When they hit the front door, Maria looks back at me. I smile and give a wave with my free hand—she looks concerned but keeps walking.

  “Okay, Derek, you need to calm down. I’m going to let you go, but man, if you try to come at me again, I will put you down. You feel me?” I push him away from me, and he rubs his arm furiously.

  “It’s not enough to embarrass me by taking my date home. So, what, now you’re trying to take away my son, too?” Derek rages.

  “Whoa…” I put up my hands, “… you need to reel this shit in. Your date wasn’t yours to claim, and as for your son, if you weren’t a deadbeat dad, he wouldn’t need me,” I say, my words coming out forcefully.

  All the color drains from his face, and Derek stumbles back as though I’ve winded him. He turns and gives me his back. “It hasn’t been easy. I try. My job has been in jeopardy, my wife can’t stand me, and now my son looks at me like I’m a failure.”

  “Look, I don’t know what it’s like to have a family, but man, your son loves you. He talks about you… a lot,” I reply.

  Derek slowly turns around, all rage gone from his features and is replaced with something else. Remorse?

  “I’m sorry, man. I was out of line. It’s just lately, you are all he talks about. He’s been so excited for tonight, it’s been ‘Colt this and Colt that.’”

  “I might be his football hero, but you will always be his father. No one can take that away from you. We good?” I ask as I hold out my hand.

  Derek nods, looks me up and down, and takes my hand in his. “Yeah, we’re good.”

  “Cool. I’m gonna get going. Are you going to be all right here?” I ask as I point to the house over my shoulder.

  “Yeah, guess I owe them an apology, too.”

  I nod. “Something tells me, they’ll forgive you. Catch you later.”

  I walk to my car and glance back at him. Derek has his hand on the back of his neck as he stares at the house. Slowly, but purposefully, he makes his way up the walk and to the front door.

  I sit in my car for half an hour out the front of their house just watching—there’s no yelling or screaming. I’m tempted to knock on the front door to make sure everything is okay when Maria steps out of the front door. When she reaches my car, I wind down the window. “Everything okay?”

  “Yes, Colt… Derek is asleep on the couch. He’ll be fine. Go home, and thank you for worrying about us.”

  I grin and shake my head. “It’s no trouble. Does he do that often?”

  “Not for a long time. He was a good man… once. Unfortunately, he put all his self-worth into his job, and when he lost that, he spiraled.” She frowns and looks to the house then back at me. “Anyway, please go.” Maria turns quickly and walks inside.

  I wait around for anot
her minute before I drive off.

  Derek’s lucky he has both of them, blessed that he has a family. It’s a pity he hasn’t woken up to that yet.

  SKYE

  It’s Friday night, and I’m in my pajamas watching The Notebook for the hundredth time. Tears are streaming down my face as it plays again. Loud music filters in from outside, and I hear a voice singing, “I like you baaaby, and if it’s quite all right, I need you, Skyeee…”

  My tears stop instantly, and I peer out my front curtains with my eyebrows drawn together.

  Standing outside is Colt Anders with a marching band, in what I am assuming, are his team’s colors. There must be a dozen people out there.

  I jump to my feet, open my front door, and yell, “What are you doing?”

  “Aren’t they great?” Colt asks as he dances around.

  Laughter explodes out of me as he dances and tries to sing.

  “So… do you like?” Colt asks as he shakes his chest.

  “Shut up!” yells one of my neighbors.

  I step outside onto the porch and motion for Colt to come inside. “Yes. Please, stop!” I say through my laughter. I live in a nice neighborhood, so having a noise complaint against me is the last thing I need.

  Colt turns around and shakes a couple of their hands. “Thanks, guys.” He jogs toward me, ducks and throws me over his shoulder, then he turns around waves at his friends, and we enter the house. Colt takes me straight to my bedroom.

  “Hang on! Put me down,” I demand.

  Colt throws me on the bed. “Your wish is my command,” he says seductively. Then he looks at me, at my face, and concern washes across his features. “Are you okay, sugar?”

  Realizing I must look a mess, I nod frantically. “I was watching a sad movie, and I wasn’t expecting anyone, so I’m kind of dressed… for bed.”

  I’m mortified by my appearance as I crawl off the bed and shake my head.

  I shouldn’t have opened the front door.

  What was I thinking?

  “Let’s go back out into my living room, or kitchen, or anywhere there isn’t a bed and talk.”

  “Talk?” Colt looks confused.

  “Yes, Mr. Quarterback for the New England Warriors. Talk!”

  “Ahh… so you do know who I am?” Colt states with a smirk.

  “I googled you. You’re quite famous and a known ladies’ man who’s left a string of broken hearts everywhere he goes.”

  Colt looks uncomfortable, and the cockiness slips from his stance. He looks at me from under his lashes and says, “Maybe once upon a time, but not anymore.”

  “Okay then, talk?”

  Colt grins at me, and we head toward the living room. “Talk? I’m capable of it.”

  I giggle, wishing I was more appropriately dressed as I settle on my couch in my usual spot. Colt sits next to me taking up the rest of it. The silence is deafening as he stares at me expectantly, waiting for me to start this conversation I want.

  “How long have you played football?” I ask nervously.

  Colt frowns, then looks thoughtful. “Always. My dad encouraged me from a young age. I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t playing football.” He smiles. “My turn, how long have you lived here?”

  “I bought the house two years ago. It needed a little bit of a makeover, but now she’s perfect.”

  Colt nods and looks at me. “It’s your turn.”

  “Oh! Ahh… I read an article that said you’ve always wanted to play for the Warriors. You must have been excited when they picked you?”

  “Is this an interview, or do you want to get to know me?”

  I nod as Colt moves away from me slightly, but answers my question. “Yes, football is something I love, but it’s not all of me. You probably know more about my career than I do if you’ve read up on me?”

  I feel my face become hot.

  Dammit! He’s right, I sound like a reporter.

  “I’m sorry, I am a little nervous. Do you live near here?”

  Colt relaxes and leans back toward me again. “On the outskirts of town. I have five acres near the river.”

  “That must be over nearby to the Jackson Estate?”

  “Yeah, how’d you know?”

  “I would have killed to be able to buy a home over there, but it was a little out of my price range,” I reply, then laugh.

  “I guess it’s expensive. I needed somewhere that was secluded and had a good security system. Fans and reporters can drive you mad.”

  Suddenly, I’m reminded of the newspaper article and the embarrassment it caused me.

  I should never have let him inside.

  Colt needs to go.

  I stand and look down at Colt, his face is masked in confusion.

  “You need to go,” I whisper.

  “Why?”

  “That article in the paper made my life difficult. I like you, Colt, I do, but I have a job that I love.”

  “What does your job have to do with me?” Colt asks as he stands.

  “The principal at my school basically made me promise to keep away from you. We, as teachers, aren’t supposed to show the school in any kind of bad light.”

  “I’m a bad light? Me? Colt Anders? Skye, if anything, the school should be grateful to me. They’ve received funding from a couple of my sponsors for new football gear and positive press because of it. If anything, they should be thanking me.” Colt moves in and cups my face in his hands. “You feel this, right? You feel this connection we have? I want to see where this goes. I want to try. Don’t push me out because of one bad article. Hell, it wasn’t even that bad, it was funny. Believe me, the guys gave me hell for it.”

  “It’s not the way the school took it. I had to deny it was me to anyone who asked. It doesn’t look good if one of their kindergarten teachers is caught kissing a half-naked football hero on her front porch.”

  Colt nods but doesn’t let me go. Instead, he leans in and kisses me. My hands betray me as they work their way up his chest and entwine in his hair. When he finally lets me go, I’m flushed, aroused, and wanting more.

  “You sure you want me to go?” Colt smirks.

  Cocky bastard!

  But he’s right, I don’t want him to go. There is a connection between us. Actually, this feels good, perfect. Almost.

  Playfully, I push him away. “No, I don’t want you to go, but can we slow this down?”

  Colt takes a step back with an amused expression on his face. “What would you like to do?”

  Floundering for something to say, I blurt out, “Dinner?”

  “Dinner?”

  “It’s only six. Have you eaten?”

  “No, I haven’t. Will you be dessert?”

  “What?”

  “Will you make dessert?” Colt asks.

  I giggle and push past him. “I might do both. Pasta or stir-fry?”

  “Let me cook for you. I make a mean spaghetti and meatballs.” Colt grabs my hand and walks me toward the kitchen.

  “You sure?” I ask.

  “Let me surprise you.”

  Colt opens my fridge and inspects the contents, pulling stuff out as he goes. Then he opens my pantry and does the same thing, the last thing he rummages through is my freezer.

  “Why haven’t you responded to any of my presents?” Colt asks.

  Frowning, I take a seat at my kitchen counter and try to think of a good explanation. “You’re this famous football player… I’m a kindergarten teacher at a private school. And to be honest, you can have anyone. So, why me?”

  Colt stops what he’s doing and looks into my eyes. “Why you?”

  I nod, I want to know what makes me so special. I want to know why he’d even look at me twice.

  “You’re beautiful, even in your pajamas with no makeup and your hair up in a… um, what is that, a bird’s nest? Anyway, you don’t care who I am. You have no idea of who I am, and yet you let me into your home.” Colt moves toward me, caressing my face. “And you’re going
to let me have my wicked way with you once you taste my meatballs.” Colt grins and then kisses me.

  I push him away with a laugh. “This…” I point at my hair, “… is called a messy bun.”

  “Definitely messy,” quips Colt. “Now, do you want to help, or you can sit there and watch me work?”

  “Do you like wine?” I blurt out.

  “Depends on what you’re serving. A nice red would be good with this.”

  “Well, Mr. Anders, you’re in luck, I happen to have a very nice wine collection. And I’d like to sit here and watch you work.” I wink and head off in search of the wine.

  Truthfully, I have maybe two nice bottles, and the rest are ones I either liked the look of the pretty label or they were given to me. I pass a mirror on my way, and he’s right, my hair is messier than a bun, so I do a quick u-turn and head for the bathroom.

  “I’ll be right back,” I yell.

  I try to brush my hair into submission, apply a little makeup, add some perfume, and go back to Colt. He glances at me as I slink past him to find the wine.

  “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “No, but I wanted to. My hair was a little… out of control.”

  Colt grins as he begins frying off some onions with the garlic.

  “Hope you like garlic.”

  “Umm… yum!”

  My kitchen is small, and Colt is huge, so trying to navigate around him isn’t easy, especially when he deliberately gets in my way. His hands go to my waist as he pretends he needs something from the drawer I’m hunting through for the bottle opener. They move down over my hips, and I look up at him.

  “Are we cooking or fooling around?”

  “I’d prefer the latter, but I have a feeling you’re going to make me work for it.” A cheeky smirk spreads across his face.

  “I need food.”

  “Your wish is my command, so get out of my way. I need this…” He grabs a wooden spoon out of the drawer and waves it in the air.

  I giggle and hand him the bottle of red and the opener. “Would you mind?”

  Colt place the spoon on a plate and opens the bottle for me while I grab wine glasses off a shelf.

  “I like your home… it’s small but cozy.”

  “My dad helped me get it. I’ve paid him back, but without his help, I would never have been able to afford it.”