Tackled in Seattle

by Jami Davenport

  I’d be working fast food or back on the farm like generations of Harmons before me.

  I shook off that idea. My career wasn’t dead yet. I still had a shot at football.

  Alisa and me—probably not.

  ~ ~Alisa~ ~

  I waited on the front porch for Gage to come home after the game. His only play had been an interception, and he’d not made a good impression. He needed me, and I was like that. I had to be there for him, just as I’d been there before when he’d needed me most. It didn’t matter that he’d rejected me more than once, a friend was a friend no matter what, and he could use one right about now.

  He didn’t see me as he pulled his car to the curb and got out. He grabbed a duffle from the trunk and trudged up the sidewalk to the porch. He was putting his key in the door when I cleared my throat. He whirled around, surprised to see me sitting there.

  “Hi,” I said in my friendliest tone.

  “Hi,” he said in his gruff, don’t-give-a-shit tone, but he wasn’t fooling me.

  “Have a seat.”

  He hesitated, and I patted the space next to me on the love seat. With a heavy sigh as if he carried the weight of the world on his broad shoulders, he sank down next to me. He scooted away from me, but there wasn’t anywhere to go, and our thighs were rubbing, rocketing sexual shock waves through every cell in my system like a supercharged nova.

  “Is anyone else home?” he asked, an innocent question laced with all sorts of sinful possibilities.

  “They’re all partying somewhere. The place is deserted.”

  “That explains why it’s so quiet. Did you go to the game?” His tone was neutral, not the husky, sexy voice he used when he was coming on to me. My heart sank. He was merely making conversation.

  “Uh-huh. Three rows up on the fifty.”

  He angled his head at me. “How’d you score those seats?”

  “Sat with Riley and Tiff. Now that he’s a pro, he gets celebrity status.”

  “I see.” He stared straight ahead. I turned toward him, an act that pressed our thighs more closely together. I was playing with not just fire but an inferno. I knew better. I had to behave. Stay the straight and narrow. I couldn’t fix my wild past, but hopefully it wouldn’t catch up with me either. As soon as my last quarter of school ended just before Christmas break, I’d be jetting to England to stand beside the royal family as they made the announcement. My life would never be the same after that.

  I’d always loved being the center of attention, one of the many things Gage and I had in common, but this might be too much even for me. I’d educated myself as best I could by reading any book I could find on the different European royals, especially the English, as they were incredibly hard on their royals. I was also taking a crash course in the history of England, where I’d soon reign as Princess Alisa of Cuthbert. Just thinking of it was weird.

  But enough of my troubles. I was here for Gage. He needed me, and I couldn’t walk away from the abject sadness in his blue eyes or ignore the defeat in the slump of his shoulders. Without thinking and because it was the most natural thing in the world to do, I reached for one of his large hands and entwined our fingers.

  “Tough game.”

  “We squeaked out a win against a substandard team.” His voice was neutral with a hint of bitterness.

  “You could’ve kicked ass if you’d started.”

  He snorted. “I appreciate your loyalty, but I had one play to make an impression, and I did—a negative one. That touchdown almost lost us the game.”

  “It takes a team. Brax wasn’t exactly playing well the second half. He gave up the ball twice.”

  “Yeah, well, he’s still the starter.”

  I sat up straighter and gave him my best steely-eyed, badass Alisa glare. “Get off the pity wagon and be the fighter I know you can be, Gage. I’m tired of listening to your woe-is-me bullshit. Grow up, grow a pair, and whatever you do, don’t give up. You’re not a quitter, but you’re acting like one.”

  He stared down at our linked hands for a long time and said nothing. I might have pushed a little too hard or been too blunt, but someone needed to say it. Riley was too wrapped up in his rookie season as a pro. Gage’s other buddies were dealing with their own issues and treated him with kid gloves, as if they were afraid to upset him. It was weird. Not that they didn’t give him shit, because they did, but it was superficial stuff. None of them were nailing his attitude right between the eyes, which left it up to me.

  Finally, he met my gaze. Instead of anger or defensiveness, I saw amusement. “I needed that. You always knew what I needed and when, Lis.”

  I did, though usually what he needed was sex, and I’d been more than happy to comply. We’d fucked like rabbits last year and never cared where we were or who saw us. We’d been crazy and carefree, but the end of our college days was looming, and life was catching up to us.

  There was the time we’d done it in the shower of the stadium locker room late at night and almost been caught by night security. Or the time he’d ridden me into oblivion on the ninth hole of a nearby golf course. Or the time we’d done it in the bathroom stall at a local nightclub.

  All these memories of our sexual escapades were making me hot and wet and horny. Gage wasn’t looking all that disinterested now either. Judging by the smoldering of Gage’s eyes, I suspected he was taking his own journey down our exhibitionist memory lane. All that public sex was a coverup for what was missing, and I figured that out when he left me without a goodbye after I’d sat by his bedside for three straight days. He’d never once said thank you or contacted me via text, email, or carrier pigeon. A girl didn’t easily forgive a slap in the face like that.

  He’d dropped off the face of the earth, and less than a month later, I’d been dropped down a rabbit hole into a royal wonderland when my mother told me the truth about my father.

  He cleared his throat and swallowed. His hand was sweaty in mine. He had something to get off his chest, and I knew what it was. The bastard was reading my mind. I waited, not sure how I’d handle his confession or apology or whatever was coming.

  “Lis, about last year, I was a douche. I’m really sorry.”

  “You were. A big, fat douche.”

  “Yeah, I know.” He ducked his head for a moment, clearly ashamed. “I had my reasons, and I can’t explain them to you. Just know I never meant to hurt you. I was in a bad spot, and I was an ungrateful asshole. I’ve had to live with the shame for all this time. You’re a wonderful person and a loyal friend. You didn’t deserve the callous way I treated you.”

  “No, I did not.” I wasn’t letting him off the hook that easily. He’d have to work for my forgiveness, even though I’d mostly already forgiven him, but he didn’t know that.

  “Lis, do you think—I mean, would you—” He stopped and stared at a point straight ahead, though I doubt he saw whatever it was.

  I wasn’t going to help him out by trying to guess what he was attempting to say. Instead I waited, even as my brain was accelerating through the possibilities.

  “I want to start over. I was wondering if you’d—”

  Again, he stalled, as if he couldn’t get the words out. I be lying if I didn’t admit his discomfort amused me on some level, even as I had to hold back my initial instinct to allay whatever fears he had.

  “Would you—” He swallowed, cleared his throat, and turned his blue eyes to mine.

  I held my breath and hoped he wasn’t going to ask what I feared he might ask. Oh, Lord, please no, because the answer I’d have to give him would break my heart.

  “Would you go to dinner with me?” The words came out in a rush, and he sat back on the love seat, relieved yet nervous.

  I closed my eyes for a long moment and tried to formulate a response that would let him down easy yet get my point across. Gage was going through a tough time right now, and I didn’t want to further damage his fragile ego.

  I opened my eyes and met his nervous, concerned gaze.
He was fidgeting. In the time I’d known him, I’d never seen him fidget. The Gage I knew was in control, self-assured, comfortable in his own skin—at least on the surface. This Gage was the guy he usually kept hidden.

  “Gage, I-I—” Now I was the one who was stuttering. “I’m not in a place right now where I can date—anyone.” Least of all him, I added to myself.

  He looked away, then back at me. His expression was one of regret and profound sadness. “I understand.”

  “Do you?”

  “Yeah, I’m not the guy I was last year.”

  He wasn’t but I didn’t want to beat him down even further. “You’re better, if you ask me.”

  “How?”

  “You’re nicer, not as cocky.”

  He shrugged. Seemed to consider something and spoke. “I want another chance with you. I want to make things right. We were explosive together.”

  “And you know what explosions do, Gage? They destroy everything within miles. I can’t do this again.”

  He sighed. His shoulders sagged in resignation. “I fucked up last year, didn’t I?”

  “Oddly enough, this has nothing to do with last year. This is me. My present and my future. I’m going to live abroad as soon as I graduate. I don’t want to start anything with you or anyone else.”

  He narrowed his eyes and studied me, as if trying to read my mind. Thank God he couldn’t, because right now my horny brain wanted to strip him naked and go at it like porn stars, like we had last year before my life and his changed and nothing was the same again.

  “You’re leaving the country?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, and I can’t do casual anymore, Gage, so this thing between us is completely over, dead and buried.”

  His gaze was troubled. “I don’t know if I can either, Lis. My life is in chaos right now, and I guess it’s best not to drag anyone else into it. I always knew what I was going to be—a pro quarterback. Now I’m not sure what my future looks like. It’s terrifying.”

  “I know the feeling.” He had no idea how terrified I was. What if I didn’t measure up, and my new family was ashamed of me? I’d been reading everything I could get my hands on regarding royal protocol but lived in fear of messing up. Once I arrived back in England, I knew they’d coach me, but I wanted to get a head start.

  He opened his mouth to say something else when Wayne’s rattletrap pulled up to the curb. Gage stood abruptly and walked into the house without another word.

  The moment was over, and Gage and I were truly over. I didn’t know whether to feel relieved or cry, but as soon as I got to the privacy of my room, I opted for crying.

  Chapter 6—Don’t Look Back

  ~~Gage~~

  I avoided Lis after that night, making sure not to be alone in the house with her, while spending an inordinate amount of time watching game film with Braxton. I knew I was helping my competition become even better, but the alternative was being around Alisa. I opted for the lesser of two evils.

  Only it wasn’t working. She was still the last thing I thought of before I fell asleep and the first thing I thought of when I opened my eyes in the a.m. Living in the same house was pure torture. As much as I tried to avoid seeing her, doing so wasn’t realistic. The scent of her perfume still lingered in the kitchen in the morning, even after she was long gone. Her laughter rang throughout the house even with the door shut to my room. Her smile had taken residence in my heart, and her body lived behind my eyelids, remaining visible even after I closed my eyes at night.

  The weeks zipped by, and before I knew it, we played our last football game, possibly the last football game of my career, which horrified and paralyzed me. I didn’t know who or what I was without football. I imagined trudging back to Virginia with my tail between my legs and spending the rest of my days on the same farm, where three generations of Harmons had toiled away barely scraping by. It was honorable, hard work but not where I’d pictured my life going.

  I might be a country boy at heart, but I’d fully embraced the city lifestyle, and going back wasn’t an option. Even more so, failing my mom and dad wasn’t one either.

  The team didn’t get invited to a bowl game with our five-and-seven record. We lost that last game in a heartbreaker with a score of seven to ten. I didn’t play in one down. Somehow it was a sadly fitting way to end my college football career on a drizzly, nasty day in Seattle, Washington.

  Alisa had a sixth sense and recognized a loser when she saw one. She was moving on, and I was caught in a downward spiral. No one appeared to be worried about me. They assumed I was a spoiled rich kid whose daddy would take care of him no matter what. Only I wasn’t. Far from it. If they only knew, but I had no interest in setting any of them straight. Not even Alisa. As close as we’d been last year, she’d made the same assumptions everyone else had, and it’d hurt. She’d never attempted to get to know the real me. Never questioned what she thought she knew.

  I clung to my football dream. It wasn’t dead yet, and I wasn’t giving up until I’d exhausted all my options.

  My last college game. The end of an era. The beginning of the rest of my life.

  Maybe I should go out. Party a little. Say goodbye to football with a bang instead of a whimper.

  Twenty minutes later, I pulled my rattletrap up to the curb of the frat house I was a member of. The motor died with an embarrassing hiss and a loud hiccup, drawing curious stares from the few brave enough to be standing outside. I yanked my hood over my head and hustled up the wide front stairs, nodding at a couple freshmen on the way inside. Shaking off the rain, I hung my raincoat on a hook inside the door and took the beer offered to me by one of the guys standing near the keg.

  “Hey, G-man, glad you could grace us with your presence.”

  I nodded distractedly. As the crowd parted momentarily, my attention laser-focused on the dark-haired beauty across the room. She was making out with the frat president and had one long leg wrapped around his waist while rubbing her crotch against his. His tongue was down her throat, one hand was between her legs, and her short, tight skirt was pushed up, baring a rounded ass clad in a tiny G-string.

  I stiffened. The blood in my veins ran cold, and breathing was no longer an option.

  Alisa?

  And Wilcox? The one guy in the entire frat house I could barely stomach being in the same room with, the asshole. I reflexively made my hand into a fist, and I so wanted to show him what a good street fighter I was.

  “Hey, G-man,” Easton said with a restraining hand on my arm.

  I turned my anger on the speaker. My roommate stared back at me, his face impassive yet concerned. “I’m going to kill the bastard.”

  “What’s your problem?” His gaze followed mine. He frowned. Puzzled, he turned back to me. “Wilcox is a douche, but Sandi isn’t complaining.”

  “Sandi?” I stared again into the hazy darkness, past the crowd of people partially concealing the two going at it against the opposite wall. I let out a long breath. Not Alisa, but her double. Sandi was a transfer who looked enough like Alisa they often introduced themselves as sisters.

  I shrugged off the hand on my arm and ran my fingers through my hair. “Fuck,” I said in an exasperated whisper. I had to get a handle on myself. I had zero claim on Alisa. I’d given up that right last year. Even if it had been her ready to fuck Wilcox for all to see, what she did was none of my business.

  I wanted to make it my business.

  Riley’s words came back to me. You love her, and you’re running out of time.

  Easton continued to watch me warily. “She’s not here.”

  I turned to him and met his gaze. His eyes were honest, with no ulterior motives I could see. I nodded curtly and started to pull away.

  “Gage,” he called, and I turned toward him.

  “Yeah?”

  “Why don’t you tell her how you feel?”

  I scowled at him. “Has Riley been feeding you with bullshit again?”

  “Nah, I have eyes. You two ar
e crazy about each other, but for reasons I can’t fathom, neither of you acts on it. What’s the deal? If I had a woman like Alisa into me, you damn well better believe I’d be all over her.”

  “Yeah, well, you don’t know shit.”

  “I know heartbreak when I see it.”

  His brutally honest words struck me deep inside like a knife slicing through all the bullshit and gutting me. For a moment, I recognized a kindred spirit, a guy who was living a lie and pretending life was good when he wasn’t convinced it was. Easton was the star of the Tyee hockey team, sure to be drafted by a pro team this summer. He had the world in the palm of his hand, yet he looked as lost and lonely as I felt.

  “Heartbreak builds character,” I shot back, not interested in having a bro-bonding moment with the guy.

  “Then I have a fucking lot of character.”

  “So do I, Big E. So do I,” I said to him. Having conversed enough with a guy I wasn’t certain I even liked, I left him standing there and wove my way through the crowd in search of something stronger than beer.

  ~~Alisa~~

  I hadn’t gone to many parties this year. I’d been too worried about future repercussions once my secret was common knowledge. For some reason, I walked the several blocks in the pouring rain to the frat party. I hated to admit I was looking for Gage, but I was. He hadn’t come home from the game, and I was worried about him. He hadn’t played one down in his last college game, which I can only imagine how demoralizing that must be.

  I slipped inside and grabbed a beer from the keg, then ran into one of the guys I’d hooked up with last year before Gage. I’d hooked up with a lot of guys, being a fan of recreational sex, but once Gage had come along, no one else would do it for me. Then there was the big reveal hanging over my head.

  I’d been briefed over and over on what would happen once I publicly became Princess Alisa. My life would be scrutinized with a super microscope and my every transgression, no matter how minor, would be blown out of proportion. My behavior had to be squeaky clean. No more random hookups or wild nights out. I couldn’t fix the past, and I was sure it’d be dredged up. I could in all conscience point out that once I’d found out I had a duty to my newly discovered country, I had conducted myself appropriately. It wasn’t much, but it’s all I had.