Matters to Me: A Football Romance (The Hart Series Book 4)

by M. E. Carter

  I think back to what my sister said at the hospital. About letting the past go when it doesn’t affect anyone anymore. She’s right. Both of them are right. I have to stop carrying the weight of everyone else on my shoulders. Especially if they’re fine getting around on their own.

  “You’re pretty smart, you know that?”

  “It’s why I’m a business major.”

  “Oh, is that so,” I say with a chuckle.

  “Yeah. Now shut up and kiss me.”

  Leaning forward, I capture her lips with mine, not holding back. The kiss is hard and deep and passionate. Not just making love but making up for hurt feelings and disrespect.

  Lauren begins clawing at my shirt, trying desperately to remove it. I lean forward and in one swift movement, rip it over my head and toss it to the floor. Her moan of relief when skin touches skin takes any hesitation I was feeling before and smashes it to pieces. I love this woman and now more than ever, I need to show her how much.

  I run my hands across her rib cage, down her hips, around the globes of her ass. When I get to her legs, I remember we still have to be careful.

  “Does it hurt?” I ask quietly as my hand caresses the brace over her calf.

  “A little,” she admits. “I think maybe I should be on bottom this time.”

  A laugh rumbles out of me. “Are you sure it’s because of the pain and not because I can hike that leg over my shoulder?”

  She shrugs coyly. “Maybe a little of that, too.”

  Carefully, I flip us over until I’m lying on top of her, between her legs, exactly where I want to be.

  As we continue to make out, mouths fused together, her hands reach down and push my shorts over my hips. They don’t go very far before I have to help out. Once I’m free, her small hand wraps around my girth and begins stroking slowly, her thumb gently rubbing over the tip every time she strokes upward. It’s enough to make me almost lose my mind, and my load all over her.

  Pulling away, I rest on my knees and look down at my beautiful girlfriend—her hair splayed out on the pillow, chest heaving, cheeks flushed. “God, I love you.”

  She smiles and raises an eyebrow. “You just want to get in my pants.”

  Perusing her body with my eyes, I purse my lips. “I’m a little beyond that, at this point.”

  “Shut up and make love to me,” she demands. Can’t argue with that.

  Hooking the waistband of her panties with my thumbs, I slide them down over her legs, taking special care to get over the brace. Her range of motion is definitely better in this thing, but I still don’t want to push it. “This comes off, too.” I reach my arms around her and with her help, unclasp the fancy lace bra.

  We’re both fully naked with nothing between us. I pause for a moment to kiss her well and truly before grabbing a condom from the bedside table and sliding it on.

  When I finally push into her, we groan simultaneously. I don’t know how I ever thought this woman was anything more than perfect for me. But she is. She’s sassy and feisty and her body fits perfectly with mine. As I thrust in and out, her leg hooked above my shoulder as promised, all I can think about is how much I love her. And how much nothing means as much to me as she does. My new goal isn’t to reach mine. It’s to help her reach hers.

  Right after I help us both reach our orgasm.

  Within a matter of minutes, we fall into a heap of limp bodies and loose limbs, physically and emotionally relieved of the stress that has been plaguing us.

  Pulling Lauren to me, I wrap her up in my arms kissing her gently on the neck before relaxing and closing my eyes. She wasn’t kidding that her new brace gives her a much better range of motion. The Velcro burn I’m going to have on my ribs is well worth the pain.

  I lie still while her fingers gently trace up and down my arm. I’m almost surprised she’s not asleep from so much physical exertion today, but I have a feeling her brain won’t shut down, so I let her stay lost in her thoughts until she’s ready to talk.

  I am on the verge of passing out myself when she finally says my name.

  “Heath?”

  “Hmmm…” I don’t open my eyes, way too comfortable. Briefly, I wonder if I’m still wearing a full condom but then remember I pulled it off just before collapsing on the bed. Thank goodness that trash can is still close by.

  “When is the combine?”

  “The end of the next month.”

  “Oh.” Her hands continue to rub my arm and I begin to fall asleep again. “How long will you be gone?”

  My eyes fly open. Shit. Once again, I forgot to let my girlfriend in on the plan. I’m not just bad at this boyfriend thing, I’m downright shitty at it. “I’m not going.”

  Her hand stills for a beat before she rolls over to face me. “What do you mean you’re not going? You’ve been working your ass off for this. Is it because of your dad? Are you needing to make sure he’s better before having to move, or something?”

  I run my hand down her back, enjoying the feel of her silky-smooth skin. “It is because of my dad. But not the reason you’re thinking.”

  She furrows her brow, the concern on her face evidence of how much she loves me. How much she cares about my future.

  “I had an interesting talk with my mother during all this, and it turns out that I may have been pushing myself to reach my goal for the wrong reasons.”

  “How so?”

  I sigh and run my fingers through her hair, prepared to share how much has changed in such a short amount of time.

  “My dad has worked two jobs for as long as I can remember. My mom works long hours, too. And I just wanted to help alleviate some of their stress.”

  “I think it’s honorable that you want to help them.”

  I give her a quick peck on the lips for being so supportive. “Apparently, they don’t want my help.”

  Lauren pulls back and sits up, leaning on her elbow. “Wait, they don’t want you to go to the combine this year?”

  “They don’t care if I go this year or next. It’s my goal either way.”

  “Right.”

  “But I may have misunderstood why they work such long hours and possibly inflated their need for help.”

  Her eyes widen slightly in surprise. “Well, that’s good, right? That takes some of the pressure off.”

  “It should. I think I’m still trying to wrap my brain around something my mom said.”

  “Which is?”

  “That they don’t want my help, and if I try to pay off their mortgage, they’ll never speak to me again.”

  Lauren bursts out laughing and then turns serious. “Oh, man. What are you going to do with all those millions if your parents won’t take them? Must suck to know you’ll be set for life.”

  I pinch her rib making her squeal and giggle. “Okay, smart ass. I’m fine with it. It’s just… I don’t know, I guess it’s a different way of thinking. For so long, I’ve been trying to go pro to take care of my family and now I can go pro just for me. Is it weird that I feel kind of selfish?”

  She lays her head down, hands underneath her face. “No. I think maybe it’s going to take some time to wrap your head around it. Like with my leg. I’ve been so singularly focused on competing on floor, I never thought about trying for bars. Now look at me. The only thing I can do is bars. It’s kind of… I don’t even know how to describe it. It’s just different than what I thought it would be.” She shifts closer so our legs are intertwined. “What does your coach say? Does he think you should do it?”

  “He thinks I need another year.”

  “Yeah?”

  I nod. “I told him I didn’t care what he thought, and I was doing it anyway.”

  “And now you have to go tell him you changed your mind again.”

  “Yeah. I’m not looking forward to that.”

  She gives a small shrug. “Just tell him you got caught up in the Germaine pride. I’m sure he’ll understand.”

  I make an amused sound and grab her ass, shifti
ng her leg over my hip. “But do you? Understand?”

  Her eyes soften and her lips tilt up. “I do. And I totally and completely forgive you. As long as you don’t pull away from me like that again.”

  I clasp her hand and pull it to my lips, grateful that this amazing woman loves me in spite of my flaws.

  “Never.”

  “Good. Now, let it go so we can move on.”

  I kiss the inside of her wrist, trying to keep things light before we fall asleep, but the feel of her skin on my lips and the relief I feel from her acceptance have the opposite effect on my body. So, I kiss up her arm, to the inside of her elbow, over her bicep, her shoulder, her collarbone, the side of her jaw, and finally take her lips with mine.

  “I love you so much.”

  I can feel her smile against my lips. “I love you, too. I’m kind of excited I get to love you up close and personal for a whole extra year.”

  “Let’s not waste any more of it.”

  “Agreed.”

  So, we don’t.

  EPILOGUE

  10 months later

  Blowing out a breath, I shake my hands and legs trying to get the nerves out of my system. I know this new routine like the back of my hand, but that doesn’t change the anxiety I’m feeling. One year ago, practically to the day, I broke my leg in this very arena. My routine is completely different now, but it doesn’t keep me from battling the memories.

  Anxiety is a bitch like that.

  Fortunately, all I need is to look up in the stands to see my boyfriend sitting there cheering me on, and suddenly, I feel more centered. The quick thumbs-up he flashes me helps as well.

  We’ve been going strong since last year, taking everything from our studies to our training day-by-day. It became clear very quickly that staying in school for an extra year was the right choice for Heath. He’s added about twenty pounds of muscle, which I didn’t know was even possible, and his stats are through the roof this year. No one else in the NCAA even comes close to his numbers. The chatter on all the sports stations is he could easily be a top ten draft pick. Maybe even top five. But until the official combine invitation comes in, he’s just keeping his head down and working hard.

  And of course, supporting me by still picking me up at practice and coming to my meets. There’s only been two so far, but somehow, I think he’ll be showing up at the rest of them. It’s one of the perks of having two completely different seasons.

  Seeing my signal, I salute the judges and strut onto the floor, getting into position for my routine. I only catch a glimpse of Kiersten, who drove in with her beautiful three-month-old baby boy just for today.

  I suspect she’s here because she needs the support. Raising a baby on your own with almost no job experience and no baby daddy is tough. The sadness in her eyes and deep circles underneath are testament of exactly how rough it’s been.

  Refocusing my attention on the job at hand, I freeze in position and wait.

  As the first beats of my new floor music begin, I let my body take over. A few dance moves strategically designed to get me to the corner of the floor where I take a deep breath…and LAUNCH!

  Three steps…

  Hurdle…

  Round off…

  Back handspring…

  Whip back, whip back…

  Back handspring…

  Double back…

  Land that baby and immediately launch again back to the other side…

  Round off…

  Back handspring…

  Shushunova…

  I barely hear the cheers from landing my first and most difficult combination tumbling pass. Because of the way my leg broke last year, I was nervous to land any twisting elements, so we changed the skills and beefed it up. There’s more room for error, but the point value stayed about the same, so it works.

  Plus, I love my new music. Christmas Eve Sarajevo is something I’ve always envisioned doing a kick-ass floor routine to. Turns out, I was right.

  Once I get to the complicated series of turns and the final tumbling pass, I already know it was the right choice. I nailed this routine.

  Finally, we reach my favorite part and it goes right along with the music.

  Wolf jump…

  Split jump…

  Straddle jump…

  Shushunova…

  Roll to my back and arch up, one leg bent and freeze…

  The music stops, the crowd cheers, and a smile breaks out on my face.

  As I salute the judges, I look up in the stands to see my friends all on their feet cheering loudly. They know the same thing I do… I’ve done it. I’ve secured my competition spot on the event I love.

  It’s exciting and I don’t mind reveling in the moment.

  Ellery runs to me when my feet hit the concrete floor and hugs me tightly. “You did it!” she squeals in my ear. “You nailed it!”

  I just smile, trying to catch my breath while we wait for the score. It doesn’t take long…

  9.925… easily the highest score on the team.

  Ellery jumps up and down squealing again, some new members of the team coming over to give their congratulations as well.

  It’s welcome, but not needed. Something’s shifted in the last year, and I no longer need anyone else’s approval.

  I’ll always struggle with anxiety. It’s just a part of me. But I’m confident in myself. I’m confident in my skills. And I’m confident that I’ve surrounded myself with the best support system I can have.

  That’s all that matters to me.

  The End.

  Matters to You Sneak Preview

  Want to know more about Kiersten and how she ended up a single mom? Then grab Matters to You, coming January 2021! Here’s a sneak peek:

  Spence chuckles and I can’t help but think about how lucky I am that he’s so good to me. To us. Things could have turned out so much worse.

  “Alright, alright. Just take it slow and I’ll be there as soon as I can, okay?”

  “We will. I promise. Text me when you get there and we’ll meet you at the front so you can have your turn with the scanner gun.”

  “Will do. And take care of Baby Archie for me.”

  “We’re not naming him after a prince!” I argue. Again.

  “He doesn’t have a royal title so he’s not a prince! Loveyoubye!” Spence yells back and hangs up on me.

  I stare at the phone, mouth agape.

  “He got the last word in about the baby’s name again, didn’t he?” Lauren asks, smiling as she lifts her travel cup of water to her lips.

  “Every. Single. Time.” I toss my phone on the couch and settle in. We still have some time before we have to leave for the appointment. “How’s it feeling?” I gesture to Lauren’s leg as she massages just above her knee. The tibia fracture that knocked her out of the entire gymnastics competition season last year is finally healed. But from the looks of it, it still bothers her. “Does it ache?”

  “Mostly when it’s going to rain.”

  “Or if you do too many tumbling passes?”

  She smiles sheepishly, knowing she’s been caught. “Just don’t tell my coach, okay?”

  “You should be more worried about me telling Heath.”

  Lauren shrugs. “He’s an athlete. What’s he gonna say? ‘Don’t work out so hard’? He knows I’ll throw that right back at him the next time he’s bruised up from a game.”

  “This is why you two are perfect for each other. You understand each other.”

  “You have no idea,” she murmurs and reaches over to the table, picking up a notebook.

  I don’t know that I’ll ever understand how Heath and Lauren ended up together. Heath doesn’t seem to like anyone except a very few people and they used to verbally spar with the best of them. But I suppose once your perception of someone changes, well, everything changes. And now they’re what I like to refer to as a power couple; cheering each other on at every game or meet, pushing each other during work outs, making sure they’re
both stocked up in IcyHot and ibuprofen. It’s fun to see Lauren happy and in love. She deserves it.

  “I can’t wait for you to see my new floor routine. Christmas Eve Sarajevo is amazing music for tumbling. And the turn sequence at the end makes me feel like I can do anything.”

  Thinking about the music, I can envision how Lauren turned such a powerful song into an equally powerful routine. For just a split second, it makes me yearn to dance again.

  But then the moment is gone when Lauren flips open the cover and poises her pen into the ready position. “Okay. Baby shower. I need a list of people to invite.”

  “Just do me one favor.” She nods and gestures for me to continue. “My sister really wants to help. Or at least feel like she’s helping. I know she’s still in high school but can you call her and ask her opinion on things? Just a couple times.”

  Lauren doesn’t skip a beat. “Of course. I’m glad Nicole is so excited. Is she going to be able to come?”

  I shake my head because I don’t really know. “That’s the million dollar question. I almost positive my mom won’t be there. But I’m hoping she’ll at least let Nicole come. Even if it’s just to report back on how horribly bloated and exhausted I look and how much better off I would be if I’d just lived life their way in the first place.”

  Lauren laughs through her nose. “Sounds… stifling.”

  I shrug. “Their loss. Either they’ll know their first grand child or they won’t. At this point, I don’t really care.”

  I might eventually, but not today. Today is all about celebrating my little boy’s birth.

  Lauren and I spend a good thirty minutes discussing baby shower guests and games. I try to veto the one where everyone has to cut off the same amount of ribbon as the width of my belly, but apparently this isn’t a democracy and she’s going to do it anyway. As long as there’s cake, I guess I’ll survive.

  “The only thing we need to really figure out is where to have this party,” Lauren remarks as she continues jotting down ideas. “I don’t know the area well enough so I might need to defer to you on this part.”

  “I bet the community group on social media would know.”