The Tight End_A New Adult Sports Romance_Casper

by Zoë Lane

I felt his biceps contract underneath my hand. I gave it a gentle squeeze. “I also heard that you stuck up for me in your meeting with the GM.” I looked up into his blue eyes. “Is that why Coach Hicks is giving me my job back?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. He’s good people. I should’ve trusted him.”

  “Casper...I know you didn’t have to say anything on my behalf, not after what I’ve done—”

  “Shh...” He leaned close and captured my lips, holding them with his own. “I needed a good masseuse.”

  “Ugh! If you weren’t injured, I’d—”

  “Hit me?” His narrowed eyes challenged me. “You know I could take you.”

  I leaned back and put my hands to my hips. “You think so? I used to take jiujitsu in college.”

  He looked over my shoulder. “Yeah, I could take you to your bed. It’s not far.”

  I doubled over in laughter; the delirious kind that you couldn’t stop if you tried. I yelped as I lost my balance and tumbled off the couch. Now Casper laughed too.

  I crawled back up, wiping tears from my eyes. I returned to my comfortable position, wrapped around his bicep. “Mmm, that was good. I needed that.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Today was one of the worst...and best of my life.” I leaned my head back to look at him. “I’m sorry about what you had to face tonight. That couldn’t have been easy. A lot worse than anything I’ve had to go through.”

  He frowned, his normally round cheeks drooping. “I just wish I could’ve done more. Said something that would’ve gotten through to him.”

  “You can’t save everyone, Casper. You can only do what you can.” I squeezed his arm. “Don’t beat yourself up forever.”

  “I used to think...I used to think I couldn’t live after Emily—my wife. That time would stop.” His lips parted into a smile, his gaze far way. A few seconds later, darkness settled over his face. “It did, for a while. Then the sun came up. Every day it came up.”

  “It’ll be up again in about an hour,” I said gently. “It’ll always come up. My dad used to say, you just have to decide if you’re going to—”

  “Rise with it,” we said in unison.

  Casper grinned at me. “My dad said the same. I think they’d probably get along.”

  I laughed. “Yeah, maybe.”

  He leaned over and kissed my cheek, breathing against my skin. “Thank you.”

  “For what?” I whispered.

  “For being the sun I needed.”

  “Thank you for being my compass—for helping me find my way back.”

  If he hadn’t booked so many massages, and I hadn’t started acting obsessed to the point of violating my own ethics, I probably would’ve continued to stay static. We’d both grown in a matter of weeks.

  “And thank you for the clothes. Do you mind if I go to sleep now? I got a text that said we have a team meeting at eight.”

  “That’s in three hours,” I said after looking at my phone screen.

  Casper leaned his head over and rested it on my shoulder. “Mmm...don’t move.”

  I looked at his awkward positioning and knew I’d buckle under his weight in a few minutes. “What if I said we should move this to the bedroom?”

  He launched from the couch. “I’m up. Don’t need sleep.” His eyes were wide as saucers. “It’ll be awkward with this sling, but I don’t mind being on the bottom and you—”

  I laughed. He was probably struggling to keep his eyes open. I rose and took his hand. “We’ll both be more comfortable there, is what I mean.” I led him out of the living room.

  I heard him yawn and then mumble, “One step closer,” and I smiled.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  ROCHELLE

  “Just tell me what the results are. Don’t sugarcoat it.”

  Coach Hicks sat across from me at the conference table in my office as we waited for Rose and her associates from MacCallister, Wembly, and Poach.

  This week...

  If it would end, I would be eternally grateful to everybody’s god. The drug tests, Casper’s MRI, Billy’s suicide.

  That last one was so shocking, Coach Hicks had to snap me out of the trance I didn’t even know I was in. We were the last two in the main conference room on the top floor when our head of security alerted us to a shooting on campus. We were all on lockdown for at least an hour until the detectives, who were already here conducting interviews surrounding the investigation into Dr. Benzoli, gave the all clear. Rose had thankfully been able to keep the shooting off the air until the very last segment on the late news, reporters stating that it was only a possible shooting at our building, nothing more.

  Rose was worth more than her weight in gold, but even I knew all the details would emerge sooner rather than later.

  Coach Hicks grinned.

  “You’re smiling. Then it’s not as bad as I’m imagining,” I said in a rush, ready to take my mind off of Billy’s suicide and think about something more manageable.

  “You’re correct. Casper has a very slight tear, which should take a few weeks to heal. I suggest we leave him off the injured reserve list, in case he’s back to full form in less than six weeks.”

  I wanted to hug Danny. “Finally, some good news,” I breathed.

  “It is good news. What do you think about my suggestion?”

  I nodded emphatically. “Yes, of course. It’s good. Do what you think you should. As long as he’s not moving a muscle until a doctor clears him. Speaking of doctors, I have a list of prospects that I’d like you to review.”

  Coach Hicks raised his brows. “Sure. I...I thought you’d be making the decision.”

  “You do know how it turned out last time?”

  He gave me a small smile and his face returned to his normally stoic expression. He held my gaze, and after searching, I couldn’t find a speck of judgment.

  Choosing the team doctor was one of the decisions I had hoarded. Coach Hicks suggested he and others of the coaching staff make the decision, but I was the GM. I wanted to own those decisions that would be the most scrutinized: players, staff, even the prices of seat tickets. Wasn’t it my job?

  I was still reeling from the news that Dr. Benzoli had been busted in a sting operation conducted by Richmond Vice—and that his dealing had extended to members of the team. The embarrassment I’d felt when breaking the news to the owner in person; I hadn’t wanted to puke so as much as I did since I’d helmed my first meeting as sorority president in college.

  I pinched the space between my brows. “What about Billy’s suicide? What are we going to tell the team?”

  “A few of them undoubtedly already know, but I’ve already called a team meeting for eight.”

  I looked at my watch. That would be in a few hours. “Well, there goes getting home and sleeping for at least a couple of hours,” I grumbled.

  “The spa has a few beds that are quite comfortable.”

  I eyed him suspiciously. “How would you know that?”

  The corners of his mouth twitched until he let himself grin. “I’ve had a few overnighters here myself.”

  “Overnight? I don’t understand.”

  “When you’re trying to have a successful first season as a rookie team, you tend to not want to sleep in case you miss something.”

  I marveled at the man in front of me. And now that I considered, he hadn’t complained once about the responsibility of being head coach. My respect for him inched up a couple of notches. “That’s...that’s some dedication.”

  “It’s one of my better qualities.”

  I’d recently seen pictures of him back in college, in just the pants of his football uniform. Nearly twenty years since he’d graduated, his body was still in excellent shape, his shirts always snug as though he wanted to show off what a near forty-year old body could look like. Still muscular, with hair spread evenly across his chest. He possessed the same confident smile, although it appeared sadder.

  Damn his wife.

  She kne
w all his better qualities and if I had less self-respect, I’d encourage to follow through on his flirtatious looks so could know all his better qualities too.

  “You still seeing that guy?” he asked casually.

  I blinked. “What guy?”

  “Guess not,” he remarked with a chuckle. “I remember you telling me you had a date the other week. Just wanted to know how that was going.”

  “You think now is the time to discuss my love life?” I said in a strained voice.

  He shrugged. “It’s three o’clock in the morning. We’ve had meetings all day, and one of my players shot himself in the head tonight.” He dragged both hands down the front of his face before slapping his cheeks. “Forgive me if I want to talk about anything else.”

  I couldn’t blame him. I had just been picturing him without his shirt on a minute ago. “What should we say to the team?”

  He cleared his throat and then looked off into the distance. I gave him a few moments, wondering what my own words would be. I know I just about accused every one of you of being on drugs, but if you’re having a problem and you’re considering a permanent solution, please consider talking to me first?

  Sure. That’d go over well.

  “You tell the team that no statements will be made that haven’t been cleared through our agency.”

  Helena Grady and Rose stood at the doorway flanked by my security detail. I waved them in, and they sat next to Coach Hicks.

  Helena continued, “Rose and I will be the main points of contact regarding this situation. I will handle any organizational statements while Rose will be responsible for any regarding the players.”

  “We know Casper was at Billy’s side at the time of incident,” Rose said. “We believe it’s in the organization’s best interest to keep that detail out of the press. It will draw unnecessary attention back to Casper’s positive drug test and the assumption will be he was dealing with Dr. Benzoli.”

  I put my forehead in my left hand. “The less we have to say about that, the better.”

  “You’re fortunate the suicide happened when it did,” came Helena’s cold voice.

  My head snapped up, my lower jaw slack. “What did you say?”

  “Consider it from our perspective. You have four players who tested positive for a banned substance. That news will die quickly under the story of a troubled young man, who—although given a wonderful opportunity to play for a rookie NFL team that’s number two in their division—unfortunately fell into drugs and became the prime suspect in a murder investigation.”

  Her green eyes narrowed on me. My eyes shot to Rose, who had the decency to at least look uncomfortable at how her colleague was casually framing Billy’s suicide.

  Helena continued, “Tell me, would you rather be focused on one man you tried to help, or on how a number of your roster are mixed up in drugs? The Richmond Rhinos have the opportunity to be the face of suicide prevention.”

  “After the fact?” Coach Hicks barked. His pale skin had gone beet red, the veins in his neck pulsing. “A man has died tonight,” he seethed.

  Our gazes met and I nodded my encouragement.

  “Don’t misunderstand me, Coach Hicks. We are fixers, not therapists. The scrutiny your organization will be under because of Dr. Benzoli’s actions can be vastly reduced by reframing the events of this past week into what the public would consider a positive.”

  “You want us to ignore our responsibility in all of this,” I challenged, feeling dirty, and as though we should be sitting in a speakeasy with money on the table, or at an Italian restaurant with guns behind the toilets.

  “Absolutely not,” Helena argued emphatically. “By all means, admit your fault in not seeing the signs earlier, but please, do us the courtesy of running your statements through Rose first.”

  Rose’s frown appeared apologetic. I resigned myself to the idea that that was all I would get from crisis managers. We were in a crisis, and I had to trust the professionals to guide us on the best way to move forward without appearing to be incompetently running an unhinged organization.

  Coach Hicks looked imploringly at me. I wished I could live up to the trust he was placing in me now. “They’re crisis managers. We pay them to be efficient, not warm and comforting,” I said quietly.

  Coach Hicks’s gaze darkened, his face appearing like granite. He stood. “Excuse me. I’ll see you at the meeting.”

  I let him leave without calling his name. We had briefly been on the same side, and then I’d abandoned him. But I was the GM. The mountaintop was proving to be a lonely place.

  “Thank you, ladies, for coming.”

  Rose and Helena stood. “Of course,” Rose said. “Rochelle, please let me know if you need anything else.”

  My lips stayed closed as I smiled.

  I needed a bed, and I’d heard the ones in the spa were nice.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  CASPER

  “I’m sure most of you—if not all—know by now that Billy committed suicide last night,” Coach Hicks said.

  The team and members of staff were gathered together in a large theater-like room that held our number—well over a hundred. I looked around at the faces of my teammates, mostly downcast, with a few shocked expressions.

  After being awoken around six a.m. by Siobhan, I begrudgingly left her bed and had been able to grab my clothes from home on the way to HQ. Coach Hicks had made good on his word, and Siobhan had been handed her campus security badge when she’d arrived at the visitor center. Despite the somber subject of the meeting, Siobhan looked fresh and eager to work.

  Siobhan, who sat beside me, looked up at me and slipped her hand in mine.

  Coach Hicks had pulled me aside before the meeting and asked me to keep the details of Billy’s suicide confidential. The investigators had told me the same, but of course I couldn’t keep it from the woman holding my hand. I squeezed it.

  “We—the leadership—take responsibility for not seeing the signs.” He took a sip of water from a water bottle in his hand.

  He looked like he hadn’t slept—like probably the rest of us. The GM had the same sagging bags under her eyes, although they both appeared in fresh clothes and had walked into the room like they had the energy to conquer whatever was coming next.

  After spending the night in Siobhan’s arms, I felt that no matter what consequences I faced, I could handle them as well.

  “We wanted to gather everyone together, not to give another lecture, but to talk openly and honestly about what we’re facing as an organization, with both the investigation into Dr. Benzoli and...and the alleged murder that Billy might’ve had knowledge of.”

  Siobhan and I shared a glance. If Veronica’s source was right, Billy was involved in the murder of a client who was potentially blackmailing him. The scandal would follow us for the rest of the season.

  “The owner will be here in a moment.” The GM walked forward on the small platform. “But I want to reiterate that this—what we’re building here with each of you—is a family. And I want each and every one of you to believe, to trust us with whatever issues or challenges you’re facing. Whatever it is. We—Coach Hicks, myself, the rest of the staff—we are here to help in any way that we can.”

  She spoke with a tone mixed with insistence and desperation. I scanned the staff members who stood on the opposite sides of the platform. None of them were investors. Smart. At least we couldn’t be guilt-tripped into compliance by having them stare us down.

  “Billy battled demons few of you knew about,” she continued. “There’s no shame in letting someone know before you make an irreversible decision. We have counselors on staff to assist you with this, and anything you’re going through.”

  After a few moments of silence, Coach Hicks continued. “Guys, I know what it’s like to be in your shoes. To work your asses off all throughout school. To reach another level at Combine in hopes of getting recruited by your first pick—or, hell, any team. To get that call from a GM
that you’ve made the team. You’re an NFL player. The elite of football players in the nation.”

  The atmosphere in the room noticeably shifted. We all sat a little closer to the edges of our seats. Backs stiffer. A lot of us nodding in agreement.

  “The number one reason we picked each and every one of you was because of your heart,” Coach Hicks continued. “Not your skills, not your raw talent...your heart. At the end of the day, heart can make the difference in a win-or-lose situation. And we want to win.”

  Cheers belted out from members of the crowd.

  Coach Hicks put up his hands to silence the crowd. “Now I know we have a lot to work on. We’ve got to build, and in some cases repair, that bond of trust. I want you to know that I’m making it my mission to do that with each and every one you. We’re nearly halfway through the season. If we want a shot at making the playoffs, we all have to work together.”

  “I’d like to second everything Coach Hicks just said.” The owner walked up a short flight of steps and onto the stage. “I wanted players who not only had a shared vision of success, but had the one quality that underscored my dream of owning this franchise. My heart burned with a passion for this city—this region—to have the Richmond Rhinos. We all make mistakes, but I’m proud of what each of you have accomplished and what I know you will do the rest of the season.”

  She applauded us, and we joined in.

  After several more minutes of repeating the franchise’s mission and core values, we were commissioned to strive for greatness.

  “Glad to see you’re back with us,” Landyn said to Siobhan as people began leaving.

  She smiled and released a heavy breath. “Me too. It was all Coach Hicks.” She caught my eyes. “And a little of Casper.”

  “Little?” Landyn arched a brow. Rose slapped his arm and mouthed “thank you.”

  Siobhan pretended not to hear by looking around the room, but her red cheeks were a dead giveaway.

  “Don’t worry about the press, Casper,” Rose said. “I’ll handle it.”

  “I know you can handle it,” I said while looking Landyn right in the eyes.