Big Time: A Bad Boy Sports Romance

by KB Winters

  Our eyes locked as we crashed, ebbing and flowing together as we rode the wave of pleasure together. Langston stayed inside of me as we recovered. Neither of us said a word but our eyes searched each other in a way that spoke volumes. Langston brushed my hair away from my face and dropped a sweet kiss to my lips before he rolled away.

  As we caught our breaths, Langston pulled me to him, effortlessly with one of his huge arms. I nestled against him and closed my eyes.

  “Ugh, I never want to get up,” I whispered, snuggling against his sweat soaked skin.

  Langston lowered his lips to my ear. “Neither do I, pretty girl.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Langston

  On my way to Harvest House Monday morning, I took a detour and stopped at Yarley’s to check on Kenzie. I checked in at the ICU desk and was told she’d been moved to a new room. The nurse led the way and I saw that someone else had already stopped in. I was about to back away from the door when the woman glanced over. “Are you here to see Kenzie?” she asked, her voice soft like she’d been crying.

  I nodded and took a step into the sterile room. “I brought this for when she wakes up,” I said, holding up the puppy dog stuffed animal I had tucked under one arm.

  The woman nodded, giving me a watery smile. “That’s very sweet. She’ll love it.”

  I eased into the chair beside Kenzie’s bed, casually glancing over the monitors positioned to her left. I had no idea what most of the data meant, but everything seemed to be ticking along nicely.

  “Any news on when she’ll wake up?” I asked, my gaze drifting back to the woman across from me.

  The woman gave a small shake of her head, sending her too-large silver hoop earrings quivering. “Not yet. The doctor checked on her about ten minutes ago and she said that she’s stable.”

  I nodded and set the stuffed dog on the bed beside Kenzie. It was the same thing that Cassie and I had been told the day before when we’d stopped by after getting lunch. I kept telling myself that no news might be good news, but it was hard to keep repeating with the same level of belief. We all wanted something more concrete.

  “You’re Langston Rose, right?”

  I looked up at the woman again, nodding. “Yeah. I’m volunteering at Harvest House,” I said, wondering if she knew why I was really at the non-profit. Court ordered. Volunteering. Same thing, right?

  The woman’s expression didn’t give anything away. She gave me a polite smile. “That’s nice. I’m Hayley Alf, Kenzie’s social worker.”

  “Oh,” I lifted from my seat, leaning over the small girl, to extend my hand to the woman. “Nice to meet you.”

  She shook my hand and we both settled back into our respective chairs. Her eyes landed on Kenzie and a sadness flickered in her eyes. “She’s such a sweet girl.”

  I smiled. “She’s special, that’s for sure. What happens in a case like this? I don’t know much about how the foster care system works.”

  Hayley glanced up at me. “To be candid, she’s probably not going to be able to return to her foster home. They have two of their own children, in addition to two other foster children. Both of the parents work full time, the father is a long distance truck driver, and I’m afraid Stephanie won’t be able to take care of Kenzie as she’ll need special attention and a lot of rehab when she’s released from here.” She paused and shook her head slightly, as though struggling to get her emotions back in check. “I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

  My heart twisted in my chest and a surge of emotion threatened to overwhelm me as well. The idea of Kenzie waking up and having to move again was almost too much to swallow. From the small glimpses I’d gotten about the girl, she’d been through enough in her short life.

  “I’d like to pay for her medical bills and after care,” I said, meeting Hayley’s misty eyes. “I want her to have the best care available. No caps. I’ll foot the whole bill.”

  “That’s very generous, Mr. Rose.”

  “Please, call me Langston. Here,” I paused and reached for my wallet. I tugged out a glossy business card and handed it to Hayley. “That’s the number for my accountant. I’ll give them a head’s up, but go ahead and call and they’ll make sure it’s all taken care of.”

  Hayley nodded. “Wow. Thank you, Langston.”

  I pushed up from my seat, patted the back of Kenzie’s tiny hand, and leaned in close enough to hear her soft breathing. “Hang in there, Kenz. You got this.”

  With a final smile at Hayley, I slipped from the room.

  ****

  The mood at Harvest House was low, like a heaviness that landed on my shoulders as soon as I stepped in the door. Cassie and Mary Lou had a large group of kids gathered in the activity center, and the sounds of tears and sniffles reached me all the way at the front door. I braced myself and walked in with my shoulders back. Someone had to be strong for these kids.

  Cassie glanced up and our eyes met for a moment. She’d been crying as well. I wanted to go to her and wrap her up in my arms. I’d been aching for her since the minute I finally tore myself from her bed and left her apartment the night before. We were entering into limbo. An odd where-do-we-go-from-here place. There were no commitments on either side, but I knew an awkward conversation was likely brewing in her pretty little head.

  “We’ll keep you in the loop in regards to Kenzie’s progress and remember we’re here for you. If you need to talk, let one of us know,” Mary Lou said, concluding her speech.

  Cassie nodded her agreement and the kids got up from their chairs. Matt, the activity director for the boys, took his group out the side door that led to the gym. I crossed the space and fell in beside Cassie as she gathered the girls into a semi-circle. “All right, ladies, let’s get our journaling done and then we can make some pretty cards for Kenzie.”

  The girls all nodded and mumbled and went to take their places at the circular tables. Cassie had explained that journaling was a mandated part of the after school—or, in this case, summer—program as a way to help the kids cope with their situation and have a healthy outlet for stress and big emotions. It also helped alert the staff to any underlying issues. Sometimes big problems lurked under the pages of the faux leather journals they all carried with them.

  As the dull buzz died down, I brushed my fingers along the outside of Cassie’s arm. “How ya holding up?” I asked.

  Cassie’s eyes were glossy as she met mine. “Hanging in there. I called Kenzie’s social worker a few minutes ago for a status update.”

  I pocketed my hands, wondering if the woman had told her about my offer to pay for Kenzie’s treatment. “I stopped by on my way here.”

  Cassie smiled. “Really?”

  Aha. So she didn’t know about the donation. Good. “Got her a stuffed animal for when she wakes up.”

  “That’s really sweet, Langston.”

  I shrugged. “She’s a good kid. What happened to her is awful.”

  Cassie’s hair was down today and when she reached up to tuck some strands behind her ear, I had to wonder if she’d done that on purpose. For me. Memories of our sexy weekend came back to me, the way she’d tossed her hair down, begging me to take her. Damn. It wasn’t the time or the place, but it was hard not to want her all over again.

  “Did she look good? Better, I mean?”

  I nodded. “Her color looked better.”

  “Good.” Cassie wrapped her arms around herself and nibbled on her lower lip as she surveyed the room. The girls were all scribbling in their journals. I wondered how many of them were writing entries about what had happened to their friend, Kenzie. How many of them had similar stories in their lives? Maybe not themselves being hurt in the cross fire, but maybe they’d seen things? Heard them? Lost parents, siblings, friends to senseless violence in the poverty stricken pockets of the inner city.

  As a professional football player, I’d been a part of lots of team sanctioned charity outings and volunteer work over the years. It never hit me in the he
art like it did now. Just watching the girls write in their journals, through the tears and sniffles almost brought me to my knees.

  “You okay?” Cassie asked, setting her hand on my arm.

  I twitched at her touch and tried to force a light hearted smile. “Yeah. Sure. You?”

  She nodded but couldn’t muster a mirroring smile. “I have a phone call to make. Would you mind staying here with them for a few minutes?”

  “Hey, you’re the boss,” I replied, shrugging my shoulders.

  A small smile flickered across her lips at my playful answer. We exchanged a knowing glance and then she sauntered off in the direction of her too-small office, closing the door behind her.

  I considered the girls and went to sit beside Ashley, one of the oldest girls in the group. She had to be thirteen or fourteen. She was the only one not writing in her notebook. “You all done?” I asked, settling into the chair beside hers.

  She looked over at me and shrugged her slim shoulders. “Sure.”

  “I wasn’t much of a writer in school either,” I said, folding my hands on the desk. “I barely made it through most of my classes.”

  “Really?”

  I nodded. “Yeah.”

  Ashley sighed and dropped a glance to the closed notebook before her. “I don’t like writing in my journal. I know Miss Cassie likes us to try but it’s hard for me.”

  “I get that. What do you like to do?”

  She considered me out of the corner of her eye, as though weighing whether or not she could trust me with the truth. “I like basketball.”

  “Sweet. Me too.”

  She laughed at this. “But you’re a football player.”

  I flashed her a smile. “Well, I didn’t say I was any good at it.”

  Ashley smiled. “I bet I could beat you.”

  “You wanna try?” I wiggled my eyebrows at her.

  She hesitated for a moment, still unsure, but then nodded vigorously.

  I pushed up from my chair, hitching my chin at her. “Come on then. Let’s get out of here before Miss Cassie catches us.”

  Ashley followed me to the front of the room. I stopped and turned back to address the room. “Hey, who’s up for some basketball?”

  Libby, one of the smaller girls, popped her head up from writing. “We can’t…the boys are playing.”

  I smirked at Ashley. “What do you say we put aside our tournament and take on the boys instead? I bet we could cream ’em.”

  A wicked smile flashed over her determined face and the other girls cheered at the idea.

  I waved my hand at them, beckoning them forward. “All right, come on, ladies. Let’s go have some fun!”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Cassie

  Once inside my office, I released a breath that felt like I’d been holding on to all morning. Seeing Langston again was more intense than I’d expected. After he’d driven me home on Saturday, he hadn’t left again until Sunday afternoon. We’d spent the entire weekend together—most of it lost for hours at a time as we tangled together in my bed—and when he finally left, I found myself wishing he had stayed.

  Dangerous desires.

  By Monday, I’d managed to convince myself that we needed to pump the brakes and put some space between us. However, that was easier said than done since we’d be working together for the next month. But then, he’d walked in the door and those arguments all fell apart again and it was all I could do to keep my hands to myself.

  Especially, after he’d confessed to having stopped to check on Kenzie before showing up for work.

  I propped my elbows on the edge of my desk and raked my hands through my hair as I leaned forward into them. “What are you doing, Cass?”

  The last twenty-four hours had been like living in a bubble. There was only Langston and me. No one else. I wasn’t worried about his life in the NFL or the incredibly low odds that we could even make a relationship work. Hell, I hadn’t even wondered if he was looking for a relationship.

  But now…in the light of Monday…all the doubts and worries came screaming back to me.

  One thing was clear, no matter how much I wanted him, I couldn’t have him. He wasn’t for me. A social worker and an NFL baller didn’t mesh well together. How could they? His life would take him to lavish hotels, first class travel, riches and wealth and fame. Meanwhile, I was trying to help children who came from families that barely had enough money to buy food.

  Our lives couldn’t be more opposite. And while opposites might attract, they also had a tendency to implode along the way.

  “Okay, Cass, get it together,” I chided myself. I straightened in my chair, pulled my hair back into my normal clasp, and pushed up from my desk. I threw my shoulders back and went for the door. I had my hand on the knob when my phone rang.

  I leaned over the desk and swiped it up from the base. “Hello?”

  “Cassandra, there’s someone on line two for you,” Mary Lou’s voice announced over the line.

  “Oh? Okay. Thanks.”

  I pushed over to the correct line, hoping that there wasn’t more bad news, another shooting or some change in Kenzie’s condition. “This is Cassandra McKay.”

  A chirpy woman answered, “Hello, Cassandra. My name is Laura Ridgely, I do Langston Rose’s PR.”

  PR? Why was this coming to me? Hadn’t Mary Lou said she’d be handling all the PR stuff in regards to Langston’s court ordered service?

  “How can I help you?” I asked, shooting a leery glance out the window on my door.

  “As you probably know, Langston is covering the medical expenses and extended care costs for the little girl involved in the shooting—”

  “What? He’s doing what?”

  “Oh…I assumed you knew…” the woman hesitated, obviously flustered to find we weren’t on the same page.

  “I had no idea.”

  “Right. Well, he has that all taken care of with his accounting team. However, his agent called me after getting the call, and wants to see how we can spin this into a nice piece of PR for him. As you know, he could use a little good press right now.” She gave a tittering little laugh that raked down my spine.

  Was that all this was to him? PR? A chance to get back in the good graces of the public before football season started again?

  A sneer formed on my lips but I tried to keep my voice in check, “I’m sorry, I don’t think I’m following. How does that relate to his court-ordered mandatory work here at Harvest House?”

  “We were wondering if we could bring in some cameras and maybe take some footage of him with the kids. We’d use the photos to run alongside a piece for the media. I figured it would be good PR for your organization as well. Get the word out about your work there. That kind of thing.”

  “Hmm. I see.” I craned around again. Where was Mary Lou? Why wasn’t she fielding this call?

  “We were thinking we could even do something with the girl in the hospital. We could set up a fundraiser to help her family.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut. “I’ll think about it. I would have to speak with her social worker as well as her current foster family.”

  “Right, of course. Well, let me send you my information and ideas and we can cook up something and really leverage this terrible tragedy…” she continued rattling off ideas and her email address but I tuned her out.

  Leveraging the tragedy? What kind of ambulance chaser said something like that?

  When I hung up with the woman, I was shaking.

  The worst part of it all was the sudden realization that I’d let Langston get so close—so intimate—when the reality was that I didn’t know him at all. Was his sad story about growing up poor, with a single parent even true? Or was that part of his shtick as well?

  Maybe it was all a lie. He’d been sentenced to work at Harvest House and set his team into motion to use the opportunity to raise his star power and public opinion of his reputation. A photo shoot with a girl in a coma oughtta do it.

 
I shook my head like an agitated horse, scoffing loudly to myself.

  And I was just a bonus. A prize to keep him entertained while he did his time.

  Disgusting douchebag.

  I flew from my office like a bat out of hell and went out to ask Langston exactly what in the world was going on. I stopped short, realizing that the tables were all vacant.

  Mary Lou left her office, staring down at the phone in her hand.

  “Hey, Mary Lou,” I called, flagging her down. She stopped and looked up, quickly pocketing the device in the front of her slacks. “Why did you send Langston’s PR person over to my line? I thought you were handling all the media hoopla for this?”

  “Oh, well, she was asking about setting up some photo shoot with the girls, and I figured you knew their schedule better than I did. Was there a problem?”

  “Wait…you want to do the photos? I thought you wanted to keep this all under the radar?”

  She shrugged. “I figured if we could raise some money for Kenzie’s care, maybe set some aside for a scholarship or something…”

  “Did you know that Langston is paying her medical bills?”

  Mary Lou blinked twice. She obviously hadn’t.

  “I don’t get him…”

  “Him paying her expenses is a problem?” Mary Lou asked, baffled by my irritation.

  “I don’t know. It just smacks of him trying to paint himself as some white knight to the media. Don’t you think?”

  Mary Lou shook her head. “Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. But honestly, it shouldn’t really matter. In a month, he’ll be gone. If he can do some good while he’s here, I think we should let him.”

  I nodded, stuffing down my own emotions. There was no point in getting all worked up. It would only bring more attention to the situation. I didn’t need anyone else knowing what was going on between Langston and me. I couldn’t make this personal.

  “You’re right. I’m going to go ask him what he wants to do. Any idea where they went? They were supposed to be journaling…”