Show Time: A Bad Boy Sports Romance

by KB Winters

  Gwen

  Even though I knew nothing about football, I found myself swept up in the excitement of the final few minutes and when Carson landed in the end zone, I burst out into a deafening cheer with the rest of the crowd.

  “Damn! Your man has balls!” Vivi hollered beside me.

  “Right? I can’t believe he won!” I shivered and pulled the blanket tighter around me. “Damn! It’s cold!”

  Vivi tugged on her blanket. “All right, girl. I’m outta here. You have fun tonight.”

  “You bailing already?”

  “Hell, yeah.” She paused to pluck a wayward strand of hair out of her lip gloss. We were under the protection of an overhang but the wind and snow were still able to whip through and catch us. “I have to get up early and the traffic is going to be ridiculous. And my ass is frozen. It’s too fucking cold out here. I don’t know how you talked me into this. I’m gonna hop a street car and ride home.”

  My eyebrows knit together. “No. I can totally give you a ride.”

  She waved her hand. “Don’t worry about it. I want you to have fun tonight. You deserve it.” She leaned in and gave me a quick embrace before she rewrapped the blanket around herself and headed back up the stairs that led to the nearest exit. I followed her with my eyes and she gave me a little wave before ducking through the doorway and disappearing.

  I turned my attention back to the field and joined in with the rest of the crowd as the announcer proclaimed the Cannons as the winners of the playoff game. Media ascended onto the field and I watched Carson get plucked up by a blonde reporter with a camera crew. A smile played at my lips as I watched him smile for the camera. Even from my seat, I could see the joy and pride radiating from him. Every few minutes one of his teammates would walk by and say something or slap him on the ass.

  I laughed and rolled my eyes. “Boys.”

  The crowd filtered from the stadium and I noticed that I was left alone in my section. I wasn’t sure what to do. I could easily slip from the stadium and join the mass exodus to the parking garage, get in my dad’s SUV and drive home. But there was something keeping my ass frozen in the seat—and it wasn’t just the cold weather.

  Carson left the stadium and I wondered how long it would take for him to shower and change and do the postgame interviews. Surely it couldn’t take that long. Could it?

  I fished my phone out of my purse and pulled up his number in my contacts list. I’d programmed it into my phone even though I hadn’t used it yet. No time like the present, I decided, starting a new text:

  Great game! You might make a convert out of me after all. My friend had to bail early. If you want some postgame company, let me know.

  I sucked in a sharp breath as I forced myself to send it without editing. When my phone buzzed to let me know the message had been sent, I got up from my seat and made my way up the stairs. The interior of the stadium was still a madhouse. People were clogging up the different vendors, buying t-shirts and other memorabilia, grabbing food at the handful of stalls and miniature restaurants, and snapping pictures and selfies with the larger than life pictures of the team printed on the walls.

  The air inside was considerably warmer than the stadium but it was still chilly. I tugged at the collar of my coat and wished I’d worn a scarf. I certainly hadn’t been prepared for the arctic blast. I passed a coffee cart and got into line behind a few Cannons fans who were decked out in team t-shirts, face paint, and hats. They were going on and on about Carson and I couldn’t help but smile as I listened to their conversation. I knew the pride I felt was a little premature, considering Carson and I had barely spent an hour together, but it felt like something more. Like they were talking about a good friend of mine.

  Maybe more…

  When I got my cup of coffee, I dumped the change in the tip jar, thanked the high school aged girl behind the counter and ambled off to get out of the way of the next customer. My phone buzzed in my pocket and I jolted, nearly sloshing the scalding coffee all over me. I hurried to an empty chair along a long bar and set my coffee down.

  I’ll make a full-fledged fan out of you. Just wait. I got some press stuff to do but I’d like to see you. Ask security to point you to the team’s entrance. Tell them you’re on my list. I’ll meet you when I’m done and we can go get a drink.

  My cheeks warmed as I re-read the message. This was really happening. I was minutes away from having drinks with Carson Stiles. I shook my head, still dazed with disbelief as I typed back a quick reply:

  See you soon.

  I chugged down my coffee, searing my tongue, and then chucked the paper cup before rushing off to find security. The first one I found gave me instructions and I hurried off, stopping in the ladies room to check my face and lips. My cheeks and the bottom of my ears were bright red from the cold. Great. I looked like a frozen hot mess all bundled up like a burrito—bet he’d love that. I rubbed my gloved hands over my cheeks to warm them up and then pulled off my knitted cap.

  UGH! My hair was plastered flat to my head and shaped like a beanie. Why did I agree to this? And why did I text him? I could’ve went home with Vivi and he would’ve never known the difference.

  Damn it!

  This was exactly why I hated winter. Chapped lips, static hair, and dry, red cheeks. But there was no backing out now. I slid the beanie back on my head, bundled up and headed toward the team’s entrance.

  When I finally found it, I stopped short. There was a noisy crowd of people who also appeared to be waiting for the team.

  A few people passed by, apparently not even seeing me, and I sidestepped at the last second, flattening myself against the wall to avoid getting trampled. That’s when I realized that almost every person waiting was a woman, dressed like they were going to a club opening, not a football game. Weren’t they cold? Where did they come from that they didn’t look like there was a blizzard going on outside?

  Who the hell were these women? I stayed pressed against the wall and watched them. Were they hookers? Wives and girlfriends of the players? Football groupies? Was that even a thing?

  As I watched them all clustered together, talking in rapid-fire tones, and smiling like they were on stage at the Miss America pageant, I shrunk back even further. It was like having a flashback to high school. They were the cheerleaders and dance team queens and I was the nerdy girl with headgear and coke bottle glasses. There wasn’t a question. I simply didn’t fit in with these women. I’d never really wanted to. But in that moment, seeing them all gathered outside the team’s locker room entrance, I was struck with one sickening thought…this is what I’d have to be if I wanted to be with a guy like Carson.

  Sure, at Maggie’s he was attainable. Sure, he was heart-stoppingly handsome, but he felt like a normal guy. Approachable and friendly. But here…it was like a kaleidoscope being twisted to change the view, and the picture looked completely different.

  Carson had changed into a pair of jeans and a long-sleeve deep scarlet colored shirt that fit like a glove. His jeans hung low on his hips and fit just right to show off the powerful muscles in his thighs. I thought he was handsome in his uniform, but now he was downright intoxicating.

  What the hell was I thinking?

  He was smiling for the cameras, being interviewed for Sports Center, and surrounded by blonde playboy bunny types who wore designer clothes, had perfect teeth, and looked like the real housewives of Bitsburg.

  I took one more look around, feeling my heart sinking lower with every overly make-upped face I saw, and when I’d gone full circle, I pushed off the wall and walked back the way I’d come. This was a mistake. A misunderstanding. Carson could have his pick of the Playboy bunnies gathered outside the locker room. He wouldn’t want a girl like me—and if he did, there had to be something wrong with him.

  Was this all some kind of dream? A fantasy I’d concocted for myself? I gnawed on my lower lip, turning over possibilities in my mind. What was Carson really after?

  “Gwen! Hey, Gwen!”
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  I froze at the sound of my name. I knew that voice. Carson.

  “Gwen! Wait up!”

  I turned around in slow motion, somehow managing to force a smile onto my lips as he jogged over to me with a bright smile of his own. “Hey, Carson. Good game.”

  “Wow. Thanks for sticking around. That took forever!”

  “Well, you are the star player of the night,” I replied, giving him another easy smile, hoping it masked the mixed-up feelings racing through me.

  The other players filtered out into the hallway, most of them with one of the women I’d noted waiting outside the locker room. So, they were wives and girlfriends. None of them gave me a second glance though some of the players said a final goodbye to Carson as they passed by.

  Carson ran a hand over the back of his neck as he watched the last of the parade go by. His hair looked darker than when we’d first met, the dampness still clinging to it from his postgame shower. A vivid image of him soaking wet under the hot spray from the shower rushed over me and I squeezed my thighs together as I shifted my weight. Keep it together, Gwen.

  “Whew. What a night?” Carson said, breathing out a heavy sigh that sounded like it was halfway exhaustion and halfway relief.

  I smiled up at him. “You did great. You should be really proud.”

  “Thanks.” He flashed a warm smile and my eyes went wide. He really was too hot. It wasn’t fair. I’d never been so off-kilter around a guy before. “So, you still up for a drink? There’s this quiet little bar not too far from here.”

  I twisted my fingers together in front of me, still unsure what his intentions were, but agreed with a nod. “Sounds good to me. Something to take the edge of the chill.”

  Granted, from the look in his eyes—there were other ways to warm up on an icy night.

  Chapter Eight

  Carson

  Scoring the winning touchdown had nothing on the feeling of having Gwen on my arm. There was something about her that made me feel completely comfortable and antsy all at once. She had a strange pull on me that was unlike anything I’d ever experienced before. I wanted to know everything about her, all at once, but also wanted to relish unveiling each new piece of her.

  “What happened to your friend? I hope you weren’t all by yourself for too long,” I said as I stopped to pull open the door for her. The night air instantly whipped at the back of my neck and I regretted leaving the locker room in such a hurry that I’d left my thick winter coat behind.

  Gwen tugged her own coat closer around her as she stepped through the open door. “She has to work tomorrow and couldn’t stay out too late. She took the street car home. She doesn’t live too far from downtown.”

  Secretly I was relieved. I wanted Gwen all to myself. “I’m glad you stayed.”

  Gwen glanced up at me as we walked down the sidewalk. “Me too.”

  God, her smile was addictive. As soon as it faded, I was aching for it to make another appearance. Those lips. The little dimples on either side. Damn. I was a goner. My mind had been racing for days, concocting all kinds of scenarios of how to get her alone. Now, walking down the sidewalk outside the stadium, I had her all to myself and my insides felt like a live wire flailing around, sparks flying every which way.

  Gwen rubbed her gloved hands together as we walked. “Damn, aren’t you cold?”

  “I’m freezing. I left my coat to catch you before you left.”

  “I’m sorry, do you want to go back and get it?”

  I rubbed my arms quickly, warming them up. “No, I’ll be okay. Ill kick up the heat in the truck.”

  “Honestly, I don’t know how you play in the snow and wind like that. I was freezing to death, with a blanket and a coat!” she said with a laugh. “Weather like this is only good for one thing.”

  My mind easily filled in what I’d like to be doing.

  “Blanket fort?” I asked, keeping the R-rated version to myself.

  Gwen laughed. “I was gonna say staying in bed, but yeah, a blanket fort could work too.” She glanced up at me and all the air left my lungs at the sparkling mischief in her dark eyes. “As long as there’s hot cocoa, I’m there.”

  I chuckled and dragged a hand through my hair. “Good policy.”

  We reached the end of the sidewalk and Gwen came to a stop a step ahead of me. “Where are you parked?” Gwen asked, scanning the street in both directions. “I’m in that garage over there.”

  I followed the direction of her hand before reaching for it. “Well, we’re going that way,” I said, taking her hand and pointing it toward a garage on the opposite corner. “I’m driving.”

  “No arguments here. Hopefully the street sweepers will be out by the time we get back. Even though I grew up here, I still don’t like driving in the snow,” Gwen said, eyeing the road conditions as we went up to the nearest crosswalk.

  A few straggling fans were waiting at the light and I hung back. There were guys on the team who would have loudly announced their presence, creating an opportunity to be rowdy and get compliments, but that was the last thing I wanted. Especially, in front of Gwen. I didn’t think it would impress her and would only serve to take time away from our night.

  “I don’t mind driving you home,” I offered. “If the sweepers don’t make it out in time.”

  Gwen looked up at me, her eyes wide. “Guess we’ll see…”

  A rush of excitement warmed me up. How gorgeous would those eyes look rolled back into her head, my name on her lips, her curvy ass on display. I couldn’t wait to see how the night would end.

  ****

  “Table for two?”

  I glanced over at Gwen at the hostess’ question. We’d only agreed on getting a drink, but the bar entrance was locked so we had to go around to the main restaurant entrance instead. Before I could ask which she’d prefer, she nodded and offered the young woman a smile. “Please.”

  “Right this way,” the hostess said, grabbing two leather bound menus from the front counter.

  “I’ve never been here before,” Gwen said as we walked a few paces behind the hostess. “Wasn’t this a Mexican place?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “It’s hard to keep track. The city changed so much while I was away at school.”

  The hostess indicated which table was ours and I stepped forward to pull out Gwen’s chair before the hostess could do it for me. The hostess gave us a smile, deposited the menus, and informed us that our server would be on the way shortly. Gwen shrugged out of her coat, revealing the curves I’d been fixated on since the first time I saw her at Maggie’s diner. Damn she was beautiful, and in a blue sweater as well—team colors.

  “Spirit sweater?”

  “What’s that?”

  “Your sweater, it’s the same color as the team’s blue.”

  “Yeah, I guess it is.” She smiled up at me, and caught me in the act of checking out her ass, before she lowered into her seat. “Thank you.”

  I inclined my head and took my own seat. “Did you come back often? While you were in school, I mean.”

  She shook her head. “Not really. Flights were always really expensive during the holidays. My dad’s a high school principle and my mom has a part-time job at a craft store but spends most of her time doing volunteer work. It was a miracle I was able to even come up with the money to go to an Ivy League school.”

  “Understandable.” I grabbed a menu and popped it open. I didn’t want to leave too much space for her to ask about my own family. It wasn’t fit for first date kind of conversation. Hell, it wasn’t really fit for any kind of date conversation. “Well, I’ve only been here a few times and can recommend the braised chicken cutlets with the garlic baked potato.”

  Gwen smiled at me over the top of her own menu. “Sounds good.”

  Our server approached us before we could find a new thread of conversation and we placed our drink orders. When he’d gone, I fidgeted with my hands, unsure what to do once the menu was out of them. Gwen’s were
away, folded in her lap, and I wished they were resting on the top of the table.

  “How long have you been in Bitsburg?” Gwen asked, cocking her head ever so slightly.

  “Almost four years.”

  “Do you go somewhere else in between seasons?”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  She gave a slow nod. “Where is your family?”

  My heart jumped in my chest. Gwen was circling around the darkest part, poised to ask the questions I didn’t want to answer. I couldn’t sway her in another direction without looking completely shady. Damn it. I swiveled a quick glance around the restaurant, hoping that the server would conveniently come over with our drinks and save me.

  Gwen fidgeted in her seat and glanced down. “If you don’t want to—”

  “No, no. It’s okay. Uhm, I’m originally from Arizona and that’s where my mother still lives. As for my dad, well, even I don’t have the answer to that one. He walked out when I was two and I’ve never heard from him.”

  “Oh,” Gwen said, her full lips forming a soft O.

  “It’s kind of a fucked up situation so I don’t really talk about it with people.”

  Her eyes flashed with something. Pity? No. Sadness. I hated that I didn’t have a better answer. The normal, dad and mom are still together and we spend every holiday together and it’s just dandy, type of story. But no. That dream had been ripped to shreds a long ass time ago. “I’m really sorry, Carson.”

  “It’s all right. How could you have known?” I replied, offering a smile that felt too tight. Strangled.

  “I guess I could have done a more thorough Googling job,” she said, smiling.

  I chuckled. “Oh yeah? Trying to dig up the dirt?”

  “I’m a lawyer. Rule number one is to know what you’re getting into.”

  My chuckle rolled into a full laugh and it felt good. Like a heavy weight was starting to lift. I leaned forward, bracing my forearms against the edge of the table. “Fair enough. What did you find out? You’re here, so I assume you didn’t dig up all of my skeletons.”

  She laughed and I memorized the sound. It was melodic and unapologetic. The kind of laugh that was impossible to hear and not join in. “Oh, you mean the part where you have three families stashed across the country? No, I found that, I just decided it wasn’t a deal breaker.”