"I can't do it," she insisted, holding her head high. "And if that means that I'm fired, so be it."
Benson didn't hesitate. "It's unfortunate, but that is the case," he said, once again lacing his fingers together as he narrowed his eyes back at her. "If you can't keep this unfortunate incident under wraps, your services for this team are no longer required."
Katy started to turn towards the doors leading out of Benson's office, but he wasn't finished. "And I would suggest not trying to say anything to the press about this in a short-sighted act of revenge," he continued, making Katy hesitate. "Not only will you have a very difficult time finding any work, but you don't have any true evidence, and you won't find anyone willing to support your story."
Chase saw Katy hesitate, turning and looking around at the rest of the coaches and other employees in the room. "At least I'll be able to sleep at night, knowing that I made the right choice," she said, holding her head high.
And then she left the room, the frosted glass swinging silently shut behind her.
For a moment longer, Benson looked out at the door, almost as if he expected her to change her mind and step back in. "Unfortunate," he murmured to himself. "And I was starting to quite enjoy some of the tweets and messages that she posted. As well as the drop-off in hate mail and angry calls about the activities of my team players."
After a second, however, he shook his head, dismissing the issue from his mind, and turned back to Chase. "So, it looks like everything is settled," he announced, clapping his big, thick hands together. "Chase, thank you for bringing this issue to my attention before it could explode in our hands. We will no longer have any issues with the balls, and all of this will be left behind in the past, where it will soon fade away completely-"
"No."
For a moment, Chase wondered who had spoken. It took him a second to realize that the voice was his own, that it had come out of his own mouth.
Across the desk from him, Benson looked nearly as surprised. "Excuse me?"
"No," Chase repeated, a little more strongly this time. "We can't just sweep this away under the rug and pretend that it didn't happen."
From the way that Benson's expression looked, Chase might as well have just grown a second head. "Chase, what are you talking about?" he asked. "If this goes public, you'll be the one hurt most by it-"
Chase knew that Benson was right, but he fought stubbornly against his common sense. "No, Katy's right," he insisted. "This is going to get out at some point. We can't escape the fallout forever. And even if we could, I don't think that I could live with knowing that we had been cheating our way to a winning season."
"Cheating our way to winning?" Muskgrave snapped. "Chase, you've done the winning thanks to your talent! You threw every one of those touchdown passes. You didn't need any deflated balls in order to-"
'Then why didn't you stop deflating them?" Chase shouted at his coach. "You could have stopped, but you kept on going! Why didn't you stop, even when I told you that it needed to stop?"
"Because winning is everything!" Muskgrave thundered back. "You, of all people, should know that winning is everything! It's all that matters at the end of the day!"
For a second, Chase froze. Just a month ago, Muskgrave's words wouldn't have made him think twice. He'd always known that winning was everything, all that mattered at the end of the day.
Only now, however, he knew that he would have been wrong.
"No," he said softly, standing up from his chair. "Winning isn't the only thing. Not if it's done through cheating."
"Chase." Benson spoke up this time. "What exactly are you doing, son?"
He didn't let himself think, fearful that he'd talk himself down from this ledge. "I'm going to walk out of this office, and I'm going to tell the press, and the league, what's been happening," he said back. To his own surprise, his voice sounded clear, calm and collected, as though he wasn't shaking like a leaf on the inside. "And you'll either say that you are opening everything up to a full investigation so the truth can come out, or else you'll fight the league - and lose. It's up to you."
Benson's mouth dropped open. "Don't do this," he said after a minute. "Chase, you're destroying your own career here-"
"But at least my conscience will be clear," he said. "I might not play football any longer after this, but I won't have to live with my guilt for the rest of my life."
"Guilt? Boy, it's just a game-" Now, a note of anger was creeping into Benson's voice.
"Just a game? Or is winning everything?" Chase pointed out, anger rising up in his own voice. "It can't be both! Sounds like you two have some wires crossed!"
"If you walk out that door, you're never going to play again-"
"Fine!" he roared. "I quit!"
"Chase, you've got no hope of-"
Chase missed the rest of that sentence as he stormed out through the door to Benson's office. Katy might have left calmly, letting the door close softly behind her, but Chase didn't have that same level of control. He yanked the door shut so hard that the whole thing shook in its frame, and he heard the ominous cracking of the glass as fracture lines spread out from the hinges.
He stomped down the stairs, looking around. A little part of him had hoped that Katy would be out here, waiting for him, but he didn't see any sign of her.
Right now, he needed to get the swirling mass of thoughts in his head into some sort of definite shape. Ever since the previous night, when he hadn't been able to even focus on drinking and getting with that stripper, whatever her name had been, he had felt disoriented and confused.
But for the first time, Chase was astonished to have some sense of his own conscience. He had beaten down and battered away at the thing so much over the years, he'd been convinced that it was forever dead. But now, despite the scars and tears, it had managed to climb back up, still intact in his head.
It was that sense of conscience that made him call Benson and Muskgrave, arrange the meeting to reveal the scandal and the deflated footballs. He hadn't anticipated that Benson would attempt to keep the whole thing quiet, but in the end, it hadn't mattered.
But now, he needed to find Katy. Where would she be?
They were back in her hometown. She had an apartment, he remembered. Where could it be? How could he find it?
He tried her number, but she wasn't picking up her phone. He hadn't expected to be able to call her, anyway. Who else might know?
Her best friend, he thought. What was her name? Miranda? But Chase didn't have her number, either.
He forced his mind to think, trying to recall everything he'd heard or seen about Katy or her friend Miranda. An idea, dim and impractical, came to him, and he seized it.
He scrolled through his phone's contact list, finding the number he was looking for, and called it.
"Hey, buddy," he said, as soon as the person at the other end picked up. "I need a favor from you."
Chapter Twenty-Five
☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼
I got back to my apartment and stumbled inside, not bothering to lock the door behind me. I went right to my fridge, dragged out the half a bottle of wine that I remembered leaving behind, and poured myself a full glass. It tasted rather off from spending the last couple of weeks open in her fridge, but it was better than no wine at all. I drank it.
After I'd finished the first glass of wine, I poured myself another, but carried this one carefully into the little dining room area. I set it down on my table, took a seat in the chair next to it, and stared at it.
Good job, Katy, I thought to myself. My first job out of college, working with an amazing team and doing something truly fulfilling, and I'd managed to get myself fired in disgrace and scandal after barely a month.
What next? Maybe I could start a fire at the next place that offered me an interview, burn their entire business to the ground. That would be fitting.
Still, I didn't disagree with my decision. I couldn't have let the secret go, not after what Miranda had pointed o
ut to me, not after thinking about it for so long. I'd scarcely known for more than a few days, at least for certain, and the secret had already started eating away at me from the inside.
I couldn't have repressed it forever.
And now, my decision to stick to the truth, to not roll over and just let Benson and the others bury the secret, might end up putting me out on the street because I couldn't find another job. I wondered whether Miranda might let me move in with her. Surely, she made enough money to support a roommate, and maybe I could cook for her or something? I'd just need to learn how to cook, and I'd be set.
I still didn't know what I should do next. Is this the time when I ought to go to the press, tell my story? Benson had made it very clear that he would do his best to kill any story that I tried to publish. He also, I suspected, would make very certain that all of his employees, all of the equipment managers, coaches, and assistants, kept their mouths shut.
I'd have no one on my side if I tried to take this story public.
In other words, I didn't stand a chance.
I sighed as I took a big gulp of my next glass of wine, not caring about the slightly off-putting taste. So much for Chase's message to not worry, I thought to myself. If only I'd kept my mouth shut, or he hadn't said anything to Benson, I might still have a job-
"So, this is your place."
My head shot up, and I nearly spat my mouthful of wine across my apartment as my eyes shot to the front door.
The door now stood open, and Chase stood leaning against the doorframe, his arms casually crossed as he took in the apartment's messiness. "Somehow, it kind of fits you," he commented, as I did my best not to choke. "Cluttered and messy, but comfortable and lived-in."
"You think I seem lived-in?" I managed to get out, once I forced the burning mouthful of wine back down my throat. "Oh my god, what are you doing here?"
He shrugged, still leaning against the doorframe. "You know, worried that you might go crazy after being fired and decide to jump off a bridge or something," he said casually, although his eyes, locked on me, looked anything but casual.
"I'm not going to go crazy and jump off a bridge." It was true that I didn't know what I would do now, having just lost my only job, but I didn't think I was suicidal. "How did you find my place?"
"Miranda told me."
"Okay- wait, how did you get in contact with Miranda?"
Chase grinned. "Turns out that DeShaun had her number."
Figures, I thought to myself. Given the opportunity to hook up with a football player, Miranda wouldn't have hesitated. That made one of us, I guess. "Well, I don't need you here rubbing in that I got fired. I just need to figure out what I'm going to do next with my life."
Chase took a step towards me. "Well, that makes two of us."
My head jerked up at that unexpected response. "Two of us? What do you mean?"
"I mean," he said patiently, taking another step forward, "that we both need to work out what we're going to do with all of our unexpected free time." His eyes suddenly lit up as a familiar, sexy smirk appeared on his face. "And I've got a couple ideas."
I still didn't understand. "But you've got football games - a Superbowl coming up that you're going to win-"
"Nope."
I stared at him, feeling like my head was full of cotton wool. "Chase, what's going on?"
"I thought about things, about what you said, about how I looked at myself," he explained, still advancing towards me. He was almost close enough to reach out and touch me, now. "I took a good, hard look at myself, and I realized that I didn't want to think of myself as a cheater, even if doing so would help me win."
I couldn't believe it. "But football's all you care about! You can't walk away from that-"
He shook his head. "No. Football's all I've ever done. And if I only achieved my success in football this year from cheating, that doesn't reflect too well on me."
"But Benson and Muskgrave want to just sweep the whole thing aside-"
"And they'll try," he finished my sentence. "But I'm going to go to the league and come clean. I'll probably face a suspension, at the minimum, and I'm not getting back on the Hawks after this. But at least I'll be honest, I'll make the right choice for once."
"For once?" I echoed.
So close that he had to look down at me, now, Chase shook his head. "I've made a lot of bad choices in my past," he said softly, as his hands settled gently on my waist, tugging me ever so softly towards him. "I think it's time for me to start making some better ones."
I stared back at him, my mouth slightly open but not knowing what to say - which made it perfectly positioned for him to bend down and kiss me.
Chase didn't waste that opportunity.
I kissed him back, fiercely, squeezing him towards me as he took me in his arms. Suddenly, all of my emotions welled up, rushing through me and making my eyes water. This man had just thrown away his career, his fame, because I told him to do the right thing. He'd been faced with a choice between success and doing the right thing, and he chose to do the right thing.
He chose to change, because of me.
I pulled away from the kiss to stare up into his face, my eyes glimmering with unshed tears. "You're going to get in a lot of trouble," I had to point out, my voice sounding a little thick.
He just shrugged. "I'm always in trouble for something. The tabloids will go crazy over it, but at least I won't get calls from my mom complaining about how she can see my wee-wee in the supermarket."
Despite the tears, I burst out laughing at his words. Chase laughed along with me, but his laughter soon faded.
"And I want you to come with me when I go to the league officials," he added.
"Me? Why me?"
"You were the one who found out about this, uncovered it all," he said. "And I want you there. You've kept me out of trouble since you showed up in my life - maybe you can help do the same now."
"I've kept you out of trouble?" I snorted. "You've been dragging me into trouble at every step! Kissing me in clubs, getting me drunk, getting me fired for discovering your cheating scandal-"
"You've liked it," he pointed out.
I tried to frown, although the corners of my mouth didn't want to go down. "Maybe."
"I bet there are other acts of trouble that you'd like." How did he do it? His eyes had clicked from soft and comforting over to hot and smoky, without any sort of intermediate stage between the two looks.
I felt a rush of warmth run through my body, starting from his fingers on my hips. "I don't know what you're talking about."
He kissed me again, this time pulling me up to my tiptoes as I pressed against him. His hand on my back slid down, curling around my ass and squeezing, pulling my hips up against his. I could feel his hard body through his jeans and shirt, the heat of him radiating out and into me. His tongue parted my lips as it explored me, tasting me, and I eagerly reciprocated.
Both of us were breathing hard when we broke apart from the kiss, and Chase glanced around my apartment. I could guess what he was looking for.
"The bedroom's through that door," I gasped out to him, pointing.
He shook his head. "No time." His arms tightened around me, and I landed on my couch an instant later, with him close behind.
This wasn't the first time that the two of us had ended up together on a couch or some other soft surface, making out, but the air felt charged with electricity this time, different and exciting. Before, we'd always stopped, Chase respecting my wishes to not yet go all the way, to not have sex.
But now, I wanted him, more than ever before. Even as he dropped down on top of me, my hands clawed at his clothes, clumsily pulling them down and exposing the hard body beneath. He reciprocated, his hands sliding up to push my shirt up under my armpits.
"Katy," Chase murmured, as he bent to trace a line of kisses down my neck, down to my chest, to where my bra strained to hold back my breasts from bursting out.
I shivered as I felt his warm l
ips, his soft tongue, running over my sensitive skin. I loved how he said my name, filled with warmth. "Again," I whispered to him, as I ran my hands through his thick hair.
"Katy." The word rose up from between my breasts, and I answered it with a wordless moan as he flicked his tongue over one erect nipple. His hands slid back under me, finding the clasp to my bra and effortlessly popping it open. I shrugged, and the straps dropped off of my shoulders. "Katy."
He kept on descending down, leaving kisses and warm spots behind him, dropping to where he'd already popped the button on my jeans. "Katy," he murmured up from just above my crotch, as his fingers explored around my thighs, teasing them open.
I tried to sit up, but his hand on my chest pushed me back down, even as his head dropped down out of view until only the top of his hair was visible. He kissed me again, this time in much more sensitive and intimate areas, and my gasp contained new levels of need, of raw desire. He might have whispered my name one last time, but all I felt was his mouth on me, sending waves and explosions through me.
I closed my eyes, still seeing the fireworks go off behind my closed eyelids. My hands grabbed at him, guiding him in, pushing him deeper as he nibbled and licked and explored me until I couldn't hold back any longer.
"Oh, Chase!" I cried out, as I lost control, my body shaking.
He rose up, his lips gleaming, and I lunged for him. No more control - I needed him, now, far too strongly for me to think of anything else but him inside me.
Chapter Twenty-Six
☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼
Chase rose up, and I lunged for him. He might be twice my size, but I still hit him and tackled him off the couch, down to the floor, just from pure hunger and lust!
My hands felt clumsy, but he helped me remove the rest of my clothing, and then his. I threw my legs over him, straddling him, feeling his hardness down between my thighs, rubbing up against me. I pushed down against it, just sliding back and forth over his length. I watched his face, loved how his eyes rolled back in his head as he felt me pushing against him.
Tomcat Page 32
