Rough Play: A Football Romance

by Kira Ward

  “Hey!”

  I push her back, press her against her closed front door. “Make yourself available,” I say softly against her lips. She kisses me, her arms snaking around my neck as she does.

  I don’t want to go. I want to stand there all night, holding her like that. But I have a team meeting first thing in the morning that I can’t miss. I reluctantly pull her arms from around my neck and step back, releasing her lips at the last possible moment.

  I slide the phone into her hand and walk away.

  Leaving her is getting harder and harder. I’m beginning to wonder how other guys do this. I know they do, I’ve seen it almost from the moment I entered the NFL. I always told myself that I wouldn’t do long distance, that if I were to enter into some sort of relationship that lasted longer than a couple of nights, it would be with someone in New York, someone close enough to spend the odd night at my place. I never wanted this.

  But here I am.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Cricket

  “We have a full agenda, so everyone needs to get settled and pay attention,” Amelia announces. “First thing we need to do is decide if we want to compete in the district one-act play competition.”

  A cheer goes up, indicating that the students are not only willing to compete, but excited by the idea. Amelia glances at me, flashing me a quick thumbs up.

  “Then we need to decide which play to do. I have a list…”

  I stand at the back of the room and listen to the discussion, silently pulling for A Midsummer’s Night Eve. It’ll be a challenge, but I think the kids are up to it. The discussion takes twice as long as Amelia was prepared for, I think. She never was one to be able to control a discussion’s direction very well. By the time the meeting is over, they still haven’t decided on a play, let alone any of the other decisions they needed to make at this meeting.

  “We need to meet again tomorrow,” she calls as the students walk out the door, still discussing the issue among themselves.

  Amelia sighs as she approaches me. “That didn’t go well.”

  “As long as you have something picked out by the end of the week.”

  “What do you think? Should we focus on something fairly simple? Or do you think they can have a more complicated play ready by competition time?”

  “I think you’re a brilliant director. You just need to get them focused and they can do anything they want.”

  “This from the woman whose dating Magnus Fuller.”

  My eyebrows rise. “Excuse me?”

  She punches my shoulder lightly. “Look at you, dating the man you decided a long time ago was too conceited for your taste. When were you going to tell me?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know.”

  “I had to see it on the internet this morning. My best friend coming out of a restaurant with Magnus Fuller. And looking pretty hot, too!”

  I blush. “I doubt that.”

  “Look for yourself.”

  She pulls her phone out of her back pocket and holds it up so I can see the screen. Sure enough, there’s a picture of me and Magnus coming out of a restaurant. But it isn’t the one we went to last night. It’s a picture from our first date.

  “You’re a little behind,” I say.

  “What?”

  “That’s from a couple of weeks ago.”

  “You’ve been dating him for weeks?”

  I shrug. “Remember when you met that guy in my classroom? Frank Pierce? It started a couple of days after that.”

  “That’s why he was here. I was wondering.” She slips her phone back into her pocket. “So it’s just a publicity stunt?”

  I think about the way Magnus kissed me last night on my front stoop. My blush deepens as the heat that his touch inspires in my lower belly begins to spread again. “It started that way.”

  Amelia’s eyes light up. “You like him!”

  I start to shake my head, but I can’t really deny it. I do like him.

  “He was a literature major in college. Can you believe that?”

  She giggles as she throws her arms around my shoulders. “I am so happy for you, Cricket! You deserve a little happiness.”

  “Yeah, well, when my daddy finds out…”

  Turns out Amelia’s not the only one who spotted that picture on the internet. I’m watching the Cowboys play the Packers at my parents’ house that Sunday, my mom off with her book club and my dad yelling at the television, when a commercial comes on. It’s one of Magnus’ commercials, the soda commercial where he stands bare chested, a can of soda in his hand, talking about how good it tastes. It’s a stupid commercial, one that used to drive me wild with the arrogance that comes off him in waves. But now…I see it a little differently.

  My dad turns down the volume on the television. “The rumor mill says that you’ve been seen with him downtown.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I guess there’s some pictures on the internet. But I said that if you were seeing him, you would have told your father.”

  “I don’t know if you’d call what we’re doing seeing each other.”

  “What are you doing?”

  I sit up a little, rubbing the palms of my hands across my thighs. This is not a conversation I wanted to have. How do I explain to my dad what’s happening between Magnus and me when I can’t even explain it to myself? “We’ve gone to dinner twice.”

  “What does that mean?”

  I shrug. “It means we went to dinner twice.”

  “Are you going to see him again?”

  I incline my head slightly. “He’s coming through town on Wednesday.”

  My dad studies my face a minute. “You like him?”

  “He’s different from what I thought he’d be.”

  “He ever properly apologize for hitting you with that ball?”

  “Yeah.”

  My dad sits back and turns the volume back up on the television. “Good.”

  And that’s the end of the conversation. I’m not sure if I should be relieved or worried.

  “I think our secret is out,” I say to Magnus when he calls late that night.

  “What makes you say that?”

  “I guess there were a couple of pictures of us on the internet. Amelia showed me. Then my dad asked about it this afternoon.”

  “I guess we’re official then, if your dad knows about it.”

  “Official?”

  “Sure. And that means we should go away for the weekend.”

  My heart sort of jumped into my throat. “Is that what it means?”

  “Yeah. We have our bi-week after the Los Angeles game. And I know this great place just outside of Dallas…”

  “So you’re asking me to go away with you?”

  He chuckles softly. “Do you always have to answer a request with a question?”

  “A request? Is that what you call it?”

  “Yes. I’m requesting you go out of town with me.”

  I can’t help the smile that bursts over my face. But, at the same time, this trickle of fear slides through me. I haven’t spent the night with a man in a very long time. In fact, I’ve never really spent an entire night with a guy. There have been guys in my life, a guy in college I was pretty serious about for a few months. But spending an entire night with guy away from town is…out of my range of experience.

  But I really want to.

  “I suppose I can do that.”

  “Good. Pack lightly. We won’t be going out much.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Magnus

  Is it stupid that I’m nervous?

  I throw a handful of condoms into my luggage, then take them out, wondering if I’m presuming too much. She was quite receptive on Wednesday when I arrived at her house, her welcome kiss one of the most passionate kisses I’ve ever experienced. And then we made out in the back of the limo again, and she didn’t push my hand away when I slipped it under her skirt this time. But what if I’m misreading the signals?

  I’ve n
ever waited this long to sleep with a woman. This is all uncharted territory for me. Most women are more than happy to welcome me into their beds after the first or second date. But Cricket…she’s been different from the beginning. Am I presuming things? Am I pushing her too far too fast?

  We’ve known each other for weeks. For over a month. We’ve talked nearly every day of that month. But it still feels so new, so in the early stages. I don’t want to scare her away.

  I unpack my bag and repack it, choosing casual clothes and then adding a couple of suits, then taking the suits back out again. I feel like a teenager who can’t decide what he wants to wear to a school dance. I slide the condoms back into their narrow box and just shove the whole thing into my toiletry kit where I’ve always kept it. If she sees them…maybe she’ll be pleased to know that I’m thinking of protection. Or maybe she’ll run for the nearest airport.

  It’s time to go. Too late to change my mind again.

  She looks fucking amazing when she opens her front door. She’s wearing a pair of jeans that are cut low on her hips and a t-shirt that she’s tucked in so that it’s pulled tight over her lower belly. Sexy. And her hair’s pulled back in a long, thick ponytail. I want to wrap it around my fist and kiss her like she’s the last source of oxygen on earth. But I know if I touch her, we won’t leave.

  “Hey,” she says, smiling up at me in that way she has that’s seductive and teasing all at the same time. It makes my balls tighten and my cock start to stiffen.

  I brush past her and grab her bag, snagging her hand as I head back out the door. She pulls away long enough to lock things up, then rushes to follow me.

  I need to get out of here. I need to be alone with her.

  No chauffeurs this time. No photogs, no restaurants, no public. Just me and her.

  I rented a Mercedes C-300 coupe. We navigate the winding roads of Denton County with ease, the sun roof open so that late October breeze moves over us. There’s music on the radio and her hand is on my thigh. I can’t imagine a better way to spend a Friday evening.

  “Where are we going?” she asks for the third time. I’ve managed to avoid the question until now. But now we’re almost there, so I gesture toward a sign pointing the way.

  “Sanger Bed and Breakfast?” She squeezes my thigh lightly before pulling back. “Is this someplace you’ve been before?”

  “Once or twice.”

  “Yeah? You bring your dates here often?”

  “Do you think I would do that to you?”

  She shrugs, but I can tell by the hard set of her jaw that she does. I grip the steering wheel a little harder, suddenly wishing for something I never thought I’d wish for. I wish that I’d never slept with all those women in my past, that I’d never had a one night stand or the number of casual hook ups I’ve had. I wish that the press hadn’t documented so many of those hook ups and that she didn’t know my entire sexual history before she even set eyes on me.

  “Can I ask you something?” I say, slowing the car as I pull to the side of the road.

  She doesn’t even look at me.

  “You know just about everything there is to know about me. But I only know what’s public record about you. I know your dad’s name and that he’s a football coach. I know your best friend is a drama teacher named Amelia, but I’ve never actually met her. I know you graduated from the University of Texas Arlington, that you studied literature. I know where you work. But I don’t know if you ever went to your prom, if you had a steady boyfriend all through high school. I don’t know if you chose to stay so close to home for college because of money or a boy or your parents. I don’t—“

  “Okay, I get your point,” she says softly.

  “We all have a past, Cricket. Just because mine is so public, doesn’t mean I’m not capable of change. It doesn’t mean that I don’t care about you.”

  She looks at me then, her eyes soft with emotion. “No,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper.

  “What?”

  “No, I didn’t go to my prom. No, I didn’t have a steady boyfriend in high school. And I went to UT Arlington because that’s where my parents went.”

  I move close to her and touch the side of her face gently. “We’re making progress.”

  She leans close, steals a kiss, before pulling back again.

  “I didn’t really date in high school because most of the boys were on my dad’s football team and they didn’t want to upset the coach. In college, I had a few boyfriends, but only one was serious. We dated a little over six months, but then he graduated and moved back east for medical school.”

  I bite my lip as the weight of what she’s just told me slowly settles on my shoulders. “You’ve only had one serious boyfriend?”

  “Yeah.”

  It hits me then that what I’m doing is a dangerous game. I want her. I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want her. But if I’m not serious about her, if I don’t take this thing serious, I could really hurt her and that’s the last thing I want to do. It’s like we’re standing on the edge of a precipice and this is our last chance to back away before we fall over. I know I should step back, I should go home and forget I ever met this incredible woman. But I can’t.

  I kiss her. I kiss her like I’ve never kissed a woman before. I kiss her like this is the first time I’ve encountered a woman whose touch sends shivers up and down my spine, like she’s the first woman to make me ache in places that only a real woman could do. Once again, I feel like that proverbial teenager, slipping past first base to second, already looking forward to third and home.

  If there was ever a time when I could walk away, it’s long since gone.

  We stop at a small Italian restaurant on the way to the bed and breakfast. The waiter fusses over us as he shows us to our table, bringing out an expensive bottle of wine before we even have a chance to make our wishes known. He pours and I take a sip, pleasantly surprised by the crisp, even flavor.

  “I thought you didn’t drink during the season.”

  I shrug. “It’s the bi-week.”

  We order chicken parmesan and it comes out perfectly. I can’t believe how good the food is. I’ve had less impressive meals in places like Rome and Sicily. And the wine makes Cricket’s cheeks glow.

  “Wouldn’t the media be shocked to see us here together?” I comment halfway through the meal.

  “Why?”

  “They’re all convinced our relationship is a media stunt.”

  “It is, isn’t it?”

  There’s a teasing light in her eyes that makes her green eyes nearly glow in the low light. And the smile on her lips…I’m almost regretting not going straight to the B&B.

  “Why didn’t we like each other at first?”

  “You threw a football that smashed into the side of my head.”

  “It was tipped.”

  “So? It was still your pass.”

  I incline my head slightly to acknowledge the truth of that statement. “And then you called me arrogant.”

  “You are arrogant.”

  I groan. “Don’t you think a man has to be a little arrogant to make a success of himself in this business?”

  She tilts her head a little. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  “Tony Romo isn’t exactly humble.”

  “But his face isn’t on the side of every bus from here to New Jersey. And he doesn’t do soda commercials in his underwear.”

  “He would if the sponsors offered him the opportunity.”

  She sits back and regards me for a long moment. “Is that what it’s all about? Opportunity?”

  “Opportunity. Money. Influence. You can’t imagine what it’s like to come from nothing and then suddenly have your name on the lips of everyone from the fans sitting in the stands to commentators to celebrities on the red carpet. I used to watch the Oscars at home, thinking that someday I’d like to just stand where those people are standing. Last year I attended the ceremony with Eva Green.”

  “And that�
��s what matters to you?”

  I pick up my glass, pretending to contemplate the deep red of its color. Really, I’m just trying to keep the frustration and anger that’s building in my chest from exploding. “I grew up with a single father,” I say slowly. “A father who was deeply disappointed in his own life and disappointed with the world as a whole. He drank. Often. And when he did, he would go on these long discussions about the things he believed had caused him to have such a mundane life, that had held him down. When I was a kid, sitting there listening to that crap, I took it to heart. I thought my dad was a god and that he knew everything that mattered.”

  “But you’re a grown man now.”

  “I am. And I can see where my father was right and where he was wrong. But that doesn’t change the desire to be something more than he ever was.”

  “You can be more and not be a conceited asshole.”

  My eyebrows rise as I study her face. No one has ever been quite that honest with me. It makes me want to wring her neck and kiss her all at the same time. “Who gives you the right to judge me?”

  “You do. When you put yourself out there like that, you give everyone the right to judge you.” She hesitates a moment, her eyes moving slowly over my face. “And I think that’s an incredibly brave thing to do.”

  “Do you?”

  “You could play your game and then go hide out in the locker room, pretend that the press conferences don’t matter, that the sponsors and the endorsements aren’t there. But you embrace it all even though you know people will criticize you whether you’re right or wrong, whether you speak your mind or not. And that’s brave.”

  I incline my head slightly before holding out my glass to hers. “Thank you.”

  She smiles softly. “Can we get out of here now?”

  “Definitely.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Cricket

  Magnus holds my hand as we walk out to the car. There are other people around us, couples heading into the restaurant for a romantic dinner, families corralling their children, headed home after a big family feast. A few people recognize Magnus. I can see them pointing as we reach the car, but they’re respectful enough that they keep their distance. His lips brush my temple as he helps me into the car, his hand lingering on mine. I look up at him and there’s this light in his eye that I’ve seen a few times before, but never quite like this. It makes my heart pound and my practical mind wonder just how far it is to the B&B.