by KB Winters
So, we’ll head over to the hotel and then walk around a little, take in the sights. It’s been a while since I was in the Big Apple, and I’m anxious for a good old fashioned slice of pizza.”
“All right,” I said, smiling even though the idea rankled me all over again. I was supposed to be there, at the airport to pick her up, and take her to the hotel, but Coach put the team on lockdown after our flight got delayed due to the weather. We would be at the stadium, getting ready, and wouldn’t be leaving until after the game was over.
“It’s gonna be fine, Carson.”
“Okay. Listen, I gotta go before Coach wrings my neck. I’ll see you after the game.”
“Kick some ass.”
I laughed and swiped the end button on the phone.
“That your new girl?”
I turned and found Langston hovering nearby. “Yeah. Gwen. She sat next to Cassie on the plane, so they’re gonna bum around town since we’re stuck here.”
Langston nodded. “Yeah, I just got off the phone with Cass. Must be pretty serious with you and Gwen, huh?”
I shrugged but couldn’t stop a smile from spreading over my face. I probably looked like a big, love-struck idiot. And I didn’t even care.
Langston chuckled. “Got it bad. Another one bites the dust.”
“I’m sure the rest of those knuckleheads are gonna be pissed,” I said, tossing a glance at our nearby teammates. Most of them were single—or at least acted like it—and wanted to live it up, especially on the road. I’d never given their teasing too much attention and I certainly wasn’t going to now.
Langston grinned. “Nah. They all think you’re boring, Stiles.”
I chucked a towel at him. “Just sayin’. They practically held a funeral when you got engaged.”
He laughed and balled up the towel he’d effortlessly caught mid-air. “Yeah. I was more fun though, pre-Cassie and Kenzie. You were never the strip club, pussy chasin’ type. No matter how hard those bozos tried to corrupt you.”
I nodded. I couldn’t deny it. Partying and chasin’ skirts was never a luxury I could afford. In school, I’d had to work twice as hard as everyone else to overcome a learning disability that slowed my reading speed to a crawl.
Then, in college, I had to maintain my grades to keep my scholarships, which was no easy feat. All the while climbing to the top of the pack and managing to get the eyes of pro scouts on me.
After four years on the bench, I was all too aware that my days were numbered in the NFL and if I was dumped out on my ass next season, I’d be forced to reboot my life from scratch. With that hanging over my head, it was hard to let loose and party, even with my paycheck—if only for a few hours.
“Well, I for one am happy for you. Welcome to the pussy-whipped club,” Langston said, dropping the towel to the bench between us. “I gotta say, it’s a hell of a lot better than I’d thought.”
I laughed and thought of Gwen, she has some amazing pussy, but I didn’t think I’d ever be whipped.
“Hey? Y’all want to come to dinner with me and Cass tonight? I pulled reservations at this sweet place Cassie’s been dying to go to for months. I can make a few calls and get a couple of extra seats at the table.”
“Really?”
“Sure. Why not? Sounds like our ladies are becoming fast friends.”
“Thanks, man. That’d be great.”
“Consider it done.”
He walked off to get ready for the game, and I sent Gwen a quick text to let her know about dinner before pocketing my phone and following after Langston.
Before I could let my mind wander to where the night with Gwen would go, I had to put all my focus into annihilating the Cougars.
****
It was a bitter, cold day for a football game, made even colder by the chorus of booing and jeering that rang down on us as we trotted from the tunnel onto the field. I glanced around at the crowd and smiled to myself. Gwen was watching from a luxury box, and I was determined to put on a show.
“Okay, we know this is your house, but right now, I’m planning to do a little redecorating. Tear down a few walls.” I laughed to myself and jogged forward to join the rest of the team.
Prior to the game, we’d all been peppered by the pregame interviews. I was the focus of a lot of the questions and a bubble of anxiety had started to rise inside of me. After all, I’d gotten a lucky break to showcase my skills and win the last game, but would I really be able to pull it off for a second time? With an even heavier weight of responsibility on my shoulders?
I didn’t have a choice. Peters and Vex were still out. Whatever happened next, it was on me. My team needed me.
From the first play, it was like I’d been doused by some kind of invisible shield. No one could touch me. They tried to run me down, fuck up my plays, get in my way, and I out played them all. My feet felt like they were riding on rockets and each pass was a laser guided missile. The team was on top of their game and when the dust settled, the scoreboard read 6-44 and three quarters of the home team’s crowd had abandoned their team to hit the parking lot early.
The surreal feeling of the game spilled over into the postgame interviews. Even though I was sitting at the table, one hand on the thin microphone anchored in front of me, it was like watching a movie of someone else’s life. In two weeks, I’d gone from a no-name quarterback, third string on a team that hadn’t made the playoffs in several years, and now, I’d been vaulted to being the star quarterback of a team that just won their second playoff game and would host the League Championship game next Sunday against the Ospreys.
The questions were coming in rapid fire, every reporter dying to get their questions answered. I did the best I could and let Langston—who served, more or less, as the face of the Cannons—do most of the heavy lifting. Coach jumped in and fielded his own set of questions and by the time the last cameras had been shuffled away, my head was spinning from the conversation.
“Holy shit.”
Langston laughed and slapped me on the back. “Welcome to the show, Stiles. Get used to it. After the last two games, there’s no way you’re going back to the bench.”
I knew he meant it as a compliment, but for some reason, the words twisted my stomach and surged through my chest with a flutter of something that felt an awful lot like panic.
Langston pushed up from his chair beside me and jerked his chin in my direction. “Come on, Stiles. Can’t keep our ladies waiting for us for too long.”
Just the thought of getting Gwen in my arms made me smile and drained away the tension in my chest. No matter what happened next, at the big game, or next season, all that mattered was that it had been a perfect day, and I knew the night that lay ahead would only be better.
Chapter Fifteen
Gwen
After a day spent wandering the city with Cassie, Langston Rose’s fiancée, we took a cab to the stadium and watched our men obliterate the home team. Even as a football newbie, I saw the win was over the top. Most of the crowd around us filtered out before the game was even over. I felt bad for the Cougars. Watching Carson on the field, making pass after beautiful pass, and playing his heart out, made me even more eager to see him again.
Cassie and I left the stadium as soon as the game was over and raced back to the hotel to get ready for our formal dinner date where we would be reunited with our men. I hadn’t thought to pack a formal dress, but Cassie assured me that something simple with the right accessories would work just fine. It turned out that in addition to having a lot in common in our personal lives, we also had very similar tastes, and she let me borrow a long, diamond pendent necklace that went perfectly with the diamond studs my parents had given me for Christmas.
So, decked out in a black shift dress with black thigh high nylons, stiletto heels, and soft waves in my hair, I waited impatiently at the bar of the very chic restaurant with Cassie as we waited for Langston and Carson to arrive.
“They probably got hung up with the postgame inte
rviews,” Cassie said.
I nodded in agreement. She’d been living the football girlfriend life a little longer than me and knew her way around the procedures and schedule details. “After a win like that, they’ll probably try to keep them all night!”
Cassie laughed. “No kidding. What a blowout!” She propped her elbow on the bar and planted her chin against her palm. “How does it feel to know your man is the hottest quarterback in the NFL right now?”
I laughed and nervously sipped at my cocktail. “I have no fucking idea what that means…this is all so…new.”
Cassie smiled. “Yeah. For me too.”
“Well, you’re handling it quite well, let me just say.”
“Thank you. It’s definitely not a lifestyle I ever pictured for myself, but now that I’m here…” she paused to take a long look around the elegant restaurant. “I kinda like it.”
I laughed and raised my glass. “I’ll drink to that!”
We toasted and giggled together. Cassie stopped short and gestured behind me. “There they are!”
I swiveled on my bar stool and immediately lost my breath at the sight of Carson. He looked like a movie star. Langston and he were both decked out in all black suits, Langston with a silver tie, Carson with cobalt blue, and both of them looked like they’d just walked off a James Bond audition where they were each competing for the titular role. They both wore wide smiles and Cassie and I hopped down from our high barstools in unison to hurry over to them.
“Damn, Gwen, you look gorgeous,” Carson said, taking me by the hand and leading me through a spin. “Mm, mm, mm.” He pulled me into an embrace and his lips moved against my ear, “Maybe we should skip dinner and go back to the hotel. I’ve been dreaming about your sexy body since yesterday morning in the shower.”
My cheeks warmed even as I shivered at his sensual words. “Naughty boy,” I whispered in his ear. “Although…I did pack a special little something for your eyes only.”
He groaned softly. “You’re killing me.”
I laughed, delighted at the sway of power I held over him.
Langston and Cassie were exchanging their own affectionate greetings and when they parted, I noticed Cassie’s cheeks were pink. Apparently, Langston’s line of thinking was right there with Carson’s.
“Shall we?” Cassie asked, waving forward. “The hostess was holding our table since you two were late.” She made a playful jab of her finger into Langston’s side. “Was he hogging the mic, Carson?”
“Always,” Carson replied without missing a beat.
We all laughed and made our way back to the hostess station. The woman Cassie and I had checked in with wasted no time in showing us to our booth that hugged one wall of floor to ceiling windows. The restaurant was on the top floor of an impressive skyscraper and provided a spectacular view of the glittering city below. Especially from our table, which was likely one of the best in the whole establishment.
We talked about the view, and the fact that it was actually warmer in New York than it was in Bitsburg. The blizzard we’d had never made its way to New York. We checked our menus and only once we ordered did we move on to talking about other things, mainly Cassie and Langston’s wedding plans and the house they were building in the hills. “What about you guys?” Langston asked after our appetizers arrived. “What are your plans after the season is over?”
Carson shifted in his seat beside me. “Depends on if I have a job next year.”
Cassie swooped in to the rescue. “Relax, guys. There’s no reason to worry about what’s happening after that. Let’s just enjoy the night.”
Langston shrugged. “Dude, we just fucking won the second game in the playoffs, you ain’t going anywhere.”
“We still have one more to go.” Carson said, taking a bite of blue crab crostini.
“We still have one more to go,” Langston mimicked in a small voice, teasing Carson and picking up his own crostini.
“Boys! Seriously?” Cassie interrupted. “You guys act like you play pee-wee football—or at least young enough to.”
I snorted and flashed Cassie a smile while Langston grabbed his chest in a mock attack.
“Oww! You’re breaking my heart, baby! I can feel it crackin’ in two right now.” We all burst out in laughter, but the question remained… what are our plans after the season is over?
****
When dinner was over, we all said our goodbyes outside on the street in front of the towering building. Central Park was a few blocks away and I’d never been there at night—mostly because it wasn’t entirely safe, especially for a single female—so I convinced Carson that we could walk off our heavy meals before heading back to the hotel.
“That was nice,” I said, lacing my arm through his as we crossed the street.
“Yeah. Langston and Cassie are good people.”
I nodded. Something had changed halfway through the dinner. It reminded me of the sudden change from Christmas dinner at my parents’. I’d noticed that Carson seemed to have his mind set elsewhere for part of the meal. “Are you all right?” I asked him once we entered the park.
He glanced over at me and gave a quick nod. “Sure. You?”
“Mmhmm.”
We walked for a little way, observing the Christmas fairy lights in the trees. When the silence started to swallow us up again, I stopped walking. Carson stopped, his arm still interlocked with mine, and looked back at me. “What’s wrong?”
“Something’s off. Why won’t you tell me what it is?”
Carson’s eyebrows raised and I instantly regretted my demanding tone. I sucked in a deep breath and held up my hands. “I just mean it seems like there’s something on your mind and I don’t understand why you won’t tell me what it is.”
“I don’t know what to tell you, Gwen. There are a lot of things going on inside my head these days.” He paused and ran a gloved hand through his thick hair. “I’ve played a grand total of two games now and the stakes go up every day. It’s just…a lot to take in.”
I cocked my head. “Are you sure that’s it?”
His eyes locked on mine and the intensity in them startled me. “Yeah. What else would it be?”
“When you got to the restaurant you were happy, grinning from ear to ear, and I saw some of the postgame stuff when I was back at the hotel getting changed. You were happy. What changed in the last couple of hours that took that away?”
Carson worked his jaw, and I shrank back wondering if I’d gone too far. Cursing my inability to ever let things go. My tenacious, never give up attitude was going to make sure I became one hell of a lawyer, but it also tended to get me into trouble in my personal life. “Because the people who should be there to support me aren’t…” He paused and dragged in a ragged breath, as though it were physically painful to breathe. “Because every step I take, every victory I achieve, it all has this ring of…of…hollowness to it. It’s just another reminder that I did this on my own. Me. Alone.”
“But you’re not alone,” I whispered, taking a step toward him.
He swallowed hard. “You know the first thing the guys did once they got to the locker room? They call their family. Their wives, kids, moms, dads, or both. I mean, this is a big deal. We fucking won!” Carson broke away, his eyes wandering to a far corner of the park, as though he couldn’t look at me any longer. “I don’t have that. My dad walked out on me when I was just a little guy, still in fucking diapers. My mom lost her damn mind and married the first asshole who came along and had a job. He’s a monster who beats her up and makes her think it’s her fault. He threw me out of the house when I was fourteen because I was big enough that I could fight him back. And I did. For my mom. For myself.”
He shook his head and I caught a glimmer of tears in his eyes. My heart shredded into tiny pieces, each one breaking off as Carson’s story unfolded. My lungs burned in the cold air, but I couldn’t take a breath.
“I bounced around at friends’ houses, sleeping on their couches
for as long as I could before I had to move on. I didn’t want anyone to know I couldn’t go home because they’d call the cops or child protective services and I’d end up in some foster home or worse. And still, my mom didn’t do one damn thing. She stayed with him. Hell, she’s still with him. I haven’t seen her in years. Haven’t even talked to her. It’s always the same story. He’s changed. He’s different. They’re doing well. But I know if I showed up there it’d be the same old story. The rest of the family doesn’t do a damn thing. Her parents are gone, so are my dad’s. I never even met them. I don’t have aunts or uncles or cousins. At least not that I’m close to. Some of them send Christmas cards. That’s it. So, at Christmas or on my birthday or on nights like tonight where I should be happy, I get lost. No—I get pissed. Pissed off that she was supposed to protect me and she couldn’t even protect herself. What kind of mom does that?”
I took a shaky breath and reached for him. I wrapped my arms around him, waiting for him to relax into the embrace, but he remained stiff. “I’m sorry, Carson. No one should have to go through that.”
My words sounded hollow but I didn’t know what else to say. I was shocked, angry, and completely heartbroken for the man I’d come to care so much about. The depths of his pain and loneliness were unfathomable to me. Even as an only child, I’d always been surrounded by love and support from my family and friends.
“You don’t have to be sorry,” he said, his voice thick. “It’s fine. I’ll be fine. I just…” his words trailed off.
I propped my chin on his chest as I looked up into his glossy eyes. “You don’t have to be fine. Do you know that? It’s okay to be pissed off and fucked up and need some time and space to process things. You don’t have to grin and bear it. Not for the world and certainly not for me. I’m sorry if I pushed you, but I am glad you trusted me enough to tell me.”
Carson stared straight ahead, over the top of my head, for a long while before dropping his eyes to mine. A tear slipped past his lashes and fell down his cheek, glistening in the soft lights of the park. I wanted to reach up and wipe it away, but forced myself to stay still, my hands locked together behind Carson’s back. He shook his head and the tear bounced away.
