Hard Game (Wild Boys Sports Romance Book 1)

by Harper Lauren

  It was early Saturday morning and I had just finished a session with my physical therapist who’d been praising my progress lately. I drove around town, trying to focus on this wonderful news and clear my mind of negative thoughts.

  Soon I found myself wandering toward the high school football stadium. As I walked past the area where Cassy and I had had sex under the bleachers, the whole scene flashed back in my mind. We had certainly gone a long way from that night.

  For a while, I watched several teenagers playing a casual game of football. I was seated too far away for any of them to recognize me, but soon enough, I got so engrossed and enticed that I approached them eventually and called out some pointers.

  One of them looked up in surprise. His eyes brightened as he recognized me. “It’s the legendary Willard!” he called out to his friends. To my astonishment, they gathered round and asked me for advice on different aspects of the sport. I happily answered their questions, of course, and even told anecdotes on my experiences as a football player since high school.

  “It was on this very field that I was discovered for my talent,” I said confidently.

  “So are you playing again soon?” one lanky boy asked, his face filled with hope. “Windfield Warriors surely needs you!”

  “Yeah!” somebody seconded immediately.

  A tinge of sadness swept over me. I couldn’t contain the frustration that welled up inside me too. My recovery was taking too long and every extra day that passed was killing me slowly. But I didn’t want to dampen their spirits or be negative about it. These kids looked up to me.

  “Very soon, I believe,” I answered with a grin.

  “All right! Can’t wait!” the lanky boy shouted, putting his fist up in the air.

  His friends cheered too.

  Then one of them suddenly said, “Hey, how about you play with us now? Just for fun. It’ll be cool.”

  I hesitated, wondering if I could do it already. My entire body ached for the game, to be out there on the field blocking defenders again and allowing the quarterback to advance and score a touchdown. That was my main purpose as a left tackle, which is why my teammates were all desperate to have me back. Apparently, the one who’d replaced me for this role wasn’t doing a very good job.

  “Come on, man! You seem fine now!” one teenage boy urged.

  I stood up, their cheers fading away as my mind reeled with images of my past games. Someone threw me the football and I gripped it tight as I walked to the center of the field, my body automatically going through the familiar motions. Feeling the textured leather under my fingers and smelling the scent of the grass, my heart began to race with eagerness. I never realized how much I had missed this sport until that very moment.

  “Let’s just do some basic drills first,” I told them. This was a bunch of football fans who were not on the high school’s official team. They looked at me like I was a god, listening intently to my instructions.

  I let them to do a couple of stretching exercises first, followed by lunges and squats. Some groaned but still followed. “If you want to play better, this is a must,” I told them. “We all have to make our bodies stronger.”

  Soon we were shuffling and throwing the ball, learning the important movements and touching up on essential football skills.

  “I feel like a real football player now,” one of the teenagers said excitedly. “This is cool, man!”

  I chuckled and patted him on the back. “Well done, bro. Keep it up.”

  He beamed at me, which made me feel happy and somehow fulfilled even if we weren’t actually playing the game yet. It struck me then why I’d never thought of doing this before. I could actually coach football without straining my knee.

  We played a quick game with me as the left tackle. They were all so amazed and excited that they didn’t really care who won. It was just a delight for them to play with me, which was fast healing my bruised heart for football.

  I was sweating when we finished. I stretched out my legs as I downed the water someone had handed me. My knee felt just fine. I had played very lightly, which my doctor and therapist recently said was fine.

  As the group of boys thanked me before we parted ways, an idea hit me. I slapped my forehead, wondering why I had never thought of it before. Even if there was no football coach opening in the high school, I could start my own football clinic in this town. There was certainly a market for it as many little boys and teens were fond of the sport. I could even organize a mini league tournament.

  My heart surged with gladness, relief, and excitement. I could actually earn extra money engaging in football without really playing. This meant I could finally end my arrangement with Cassy’s father once and for all, and not go bankrupt while I wait for my full recovery.

  When I got to Miss Young’s farm, I saw the old woman tending to the plants surrounding her house. “Hi, Miss Young,” I greeted cheerfully.

  She smiled. “Someone’s in a very good mood,” she remarked. “How’s your knee?”

  “Much better,” I said, grinning. I was definitely in high spirits.

  “Glad to hear that,” she answered sincerely. “We could use some help decorating the stage for next weekend’s town festival. And a strong and tall man like you will surely come in handy.”

  “Sure, sure,” I said. “But what festival is this? I’ve been so busy with farm duties here and at Mom’s that I hadn’t even heard of this from others.”

  “Silly, remember our annual foundation festival?” Miss Young said, her eyes shining. “You even danced once with some kids.”

  “Oh, wow! Yeah, I remember, but I don’t want to remember that!” I exclaimed, laughing. “That was what? Fifteen years ago?”

  “Probably,” she said, laughing too. “You were such an awkward dancer. No offense, but I’d rather watch you play football, young man.”

  I laughed again. “You’re certainly right about that.”

  Suddenly, I saw Cassy approaching. She was clad in brown boots over tight-fitting jeans and a loose plaid button-down tied at her waist, looking gorgeous even with her messy blonde hair and sweaty face.

  “Hey, you!” she greeted, bouncing over to where I stood. “What are you meeting with Aunt Ellen about?”

  Miss Young smiled. “Taking a break, dear?”

  “It’s getting sooo hot out there,” Cassy said, though her tone was still light and bubbly. She had not been complaining anymore about life in the countryside. On the contrary, she seemed to embrace it now.

  “That’s fine, Cassy,” Miss Young said. “Come on inside, you two. Let’s prepare lunch together while I tell you more about the Burchnell Foundation Festival.”

  Cassy’s face brightened. “Sounds interesting,” she quipped, linking hands with me as we followed her aunt inside the house.

  It was interesting to watch Cassy helping out in the kitchen, knowing she had never cooked anything in her entire life before coming to this town. She and her aunt were getting along very well. It made me happy to see her so relaxed and joyful.

  She wouldn’t be for long when she finds out you’re being paid by her dad, a nagging voice whispered in my head. It was that voice of guilt again pulling at my conscience.

  The voice was getting louder every single day, becoming more frequent as I grew closer with Cassy. I really had to put a stop to it.

  “…and I’m sure the popular cheerleaders of the high school would love to model my collection,” Cassy was saying when I finally tuned in again on their conversation.

  “Yes, I’m sure,” Miss Young agreed.

  “Oh, that’s so exciting!” Cassy exclaimed.

  “What is?” I asked.

  Cassy turned to me with a big smile on her face. “The town event is the perfect venue for me to launch my country-inspired collection, the very first of Creations by Cassy.”

  I was ecstatic for her. “Great idea,” I agreed, squeezing her hand. “I don’t think the town has had a fashion show before. This will draw in t
he crowd and boost your business.”

  “Yup!”

  “As for me…” I trailed off, my mind whirring with thoughts of launching my business too. “Something’s been toying in my mind.”

  “What is it?” Cassy asked eagerly.

  I quickly shared with her and Miss Young the idea I got earlier. I just realized the festival would be a great opportunity for me to launch the football clinic. I could do it every weekends for kids and teens.

  “What a great idea!” Miss Young exclaimed. “People will be lining up to enroll, for sure.”

  “Of course!” Cassy added. “You’re a well-known football hero here. It’s perfect!”

  We continued the exchange of ideas over lunch, both of us thrilled and motivated. Miss Young listened with approval, throwing in suggestions every now and then. After all, she was part of the official team of organizers for the year.

  “You can both rent a booth each,” Miss Young recommended. “Get signups for the sports clinic and orders for the clothes.”

  “Definitely!” Cassy said, grinning.

  “I’m in too,” I said.

  We heard the front door open then, footsteps approaching. Miss Young’s forehead creased. “Who’s that?” she called out, standing up and peering toward the living room area. There was no answer.

  What I thought was going to be a beautiful day all throughout didn’t last long. My jovial mood immediately plummeted when I saw who had arrived.

  “Seems like you’re all having a fine time,” the tall man in his fifties said, standing regally in front of us. He looked every bit the multimillionaire business tycoon he was, dressed in an expensive-looking suit that was totally out of place.

  “Dad!” Cassy was the first to jump from her seat in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m glad to see you too, Cassandra,” Mr. Young said, his tone serious. “I trust you are spending more time working than hanging out like this?”

  Cassy looked both angry and disappointed. Her mood had obviously shifted fast too. She didn’t answer, but Miss Young quickly came to her defense.

  “Hello to you too,” Miss Young said, smiling. “Why don’t you sit down and join us for lunch? We haven’t seen each other for a long time, after all. And you and your daughter also have a lot of catching up to do.”

  He nodded, taking the seat next to his sister across from his daughter. I could sense the tension building in the air. My heart was racing too in fearful anticipation of what this surprise visit might lead to. This was my chance to call off our deal, if I could get a moment alone with him later on.

  As if on cue, Mr. Young eyed me then, his expression one of interest.

  “Dad, this is my friend Ivan,” Cassy introduced awkwardly. “He helps out here too. He’s been teaching me all the farm skills and guiding me on the tasks.”

  “That’s good to know,” Mr. Young answered, nodding at me in acknowledgement. “Of course I know Ivan Willard, the famous offensive tackle of the Windfield Warriors.” His lips turned up in a smile, though I wasn’t sure if it was genuine. “We’ve met already.”

  “Really? When?” Cassy asked, glancing at me with a puzzled look.

  My feeling of discomfort and anxiety shot up. “Uh, yes,” I said. “We met at a party for the football players back in Windfield.”

  Mr. Young added, “The owner of the team is my business partner and the son of a good friend of mine.”

  “Mmm. Small world.” Cassy didn’t look suspicious, though. She just seemed surprised that I had not mentioned such a significant fact. But she did not probe in front of her father, of course.

  Miss Young thankfully changed the topic and began telling her brother about our plans for the upcoming festival.

  “I see,” Mr. Young said thoughtfully. “A fashion show. Do you think the town folks will be receptive to that?”

  “Cassy here is very talented,” Miss Young said. “She’s been getting plenty of orders. Obviously, the women love her designs and her work. They’ll be receptive, definitely. And besides, you haven’t been to town for a long time. You don’t know this town that well anymore. We’ve been progressing a lot.”

  “Well, you could say that,” Mr. Young said. I couldn’t imagine him as a farm boy during his younger years. The city had greatly changed him, perhaps.

  “So are you going to be around to support your daughter during the event?” Miss Young asked.

  “I’m sure Dad has better things to do,” Cassy immediately answered for him, partially in a sarcastic tone.

  “Actually, I can make myself free for the weekend,” he said, surprising us all, especially Cassy.

  Miss Young looked both relieved and happy. “Cassy will make you proud, believe me.”

  He didn’t say anything. Meanwhile, Cassy looked like she was about to explode. Her face showed a mixture of disappointment, anger, and sadness.

  Chapter 19

  Cassy

  I felt crushed at first, then I felt that familiar rush of blood boiling to the surface, tearing at my heart. It took all of my self-control to keep from screaming and lashing out.

  Quickly I finished the food on my plate without another word, my heart bleeding. The turmoil bubbling inside me wasn’t calming just yet. I stood up and washed my plate and utensils at the sink while listening to my dad converse with Aunt Ellen about how her farm was doing.

  Ivan joined me to wash his too, perhaps as an excuse to get away from the table as well. Or maybe he just wanted to empathize with my sorry situation.

  When I was done, I went out the back door and headed straight for the pig pen. I felt a tear roll down my cheek, which I hastily brushed away.

  “Hey, let me finish that!” I yelled to the farmhand who was scrubbing the fences. The pig pen was empty, but reeked heavily of dirty pigs who had been moved temporarily.

  He looked up in surprise and simply handed me the tools. “I’ll go check the pigs and administer their vitamins while you’re cleaning up,” he said before leaving.

  Ignoring him, I went on to work, crouching down to scour the metal fence posts with all my might.

  “Careful, you might actually melt the metal,” I heard Ivan joke.

  I looked up and gave him a shut-the-hell-up look. He raised his hands in surrender. “Kidding,” he said.

  I didn’t bother answering. I just went on doing the task, which was a good way for me to somehow diffuse my negative emotions. “I’m busy with therapy,” I told him. “Do you mind?”

  “Hey, easy,” he said, his voice becoming gentle as he touched me on the shoulder. “I’m here if you want to talk, okay?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “But this is all the therapy I need now.”

  “Okay,” he answered, shrugging. He went off to give me some space while I tried to keep my mind clear of negative thoughts, hoping my heart would follow suit.

  I wasn’t sure how many minutes passed, but I was soon soaked with sweat, not to mention probably smelly too. When I saw the shiny metal gleaming, I threw the scrubber down and packed it away with the other cleaning gear.

  Feeling just a little bit better, I ran to my room, ignoring my dad when I passed them. The quick hot shower seemed to relax me more too. I wanted to get rid of the rebellious thoughts running through my veins, urging me to turn my back on everything I’ve worked hard for since getting to this town.

  He isn’t worth it, Cassy, I told myself. If you throw it all away, you’re just throwing away your future.

  I tried to convince myself that my dad wasn’t worth even paying attention to. But all these years, he and my mom had driven me to do so many things I regretted. My list of defiant acts certainly ran long, each one done just to spite my parents. However, I’d come to realize that all I had actually accomplished was to ruin my own chances of a better life.

  But when I got out of the bathroom and saw the spare room’s door ajar, an invisible pull seemed to draw me there. Knowing it was probably Ivan inside, the impulsive rebel inside me to
ok over. I went in and saw him checking out the inventory.

  Quickly, before he could say anything, I locked the door and grabbed him on the neck, kissing his lips aggressively. He looked taken aback, but still kissed me back. I dropped down to my knees and hurriedly unzipped his pants. He took my hands firmly to stop me. “Hey, are you insane?” he hissed. “Your dad and aunt can come up at any time.”

  I gave him a wry smile. “Good,” I answered, inserting my hand into his boxers and stroking his shaft. I felt him get aroused immediately. He let me pull down his underwear and give him a blowjob, carried away by the intense pleasure of the act and by the thrill of being walked in on.

  When he finally came, I left him speechless. I gave him a peck on the cheek and then went back to my room. I kept myself busy sewing my latest piece, forcing myself to focus on the upcoming festival, but knowing that my father was also going to be there to judge my work and probably mock my chosen business was making me lose my concentration.

  It was only a matter of time before I threw down the fabric and gave up. It was no use. So instead, I called up Charlene and just blurted out everything. She just let me talk and scream and swear, which helped a lot.

  “Oh, I so need a drink!” I said over the phone.

  “Then go!” Charlene told me. “Have a drink or have sex with Ivan, or both. Or go back to those pigs if it will help you. Just don’t do anything really stupid, all right? Remember that this is your dream. It’s all about you building your own future and finally becoming independent from your parents. So you shouldn’t let your dad’s presence affect your work.”