Second and Short

by Michel Prince

  “You don’t like the monster?”

  “I’ve never seen him. Sorry, I only see you.”

  “You’re the only one, but I like that.” Dalton leaned down and captured her lips. His hands went from being fists to soft and gentle as they cradled her head. The kiss was deep and his hands continued to travel down her body until he rested them on her hips. With a tight squeeze, he lifted her up and her legs wrapped around his waist. He braced her with his strong hands on her ass as he walked her around to the bed of the truck and sat her down. “Come back to Chicago with me.”

  “What?” she asked unsure of what he had said when their lips broke from the kiss.

  “Come to Chicago. The next game I can play is up in Green Bay, you can come to that one, but I have to go back home to prep for it. Besides, I’ll be playing a home game the next week. Both are less than a day trip for you.”

  “Come watch you play? Or come to Chicago with you?”

  “I know you have a life here, but it’s been almost a decade since I had someone special in the stands. Until I met you, I never noticed how much I missed having someone with me after the game.”

  “Don’t you have a dozen jersey chasers every game?”

  “They don’t care what guy grabs them at the end of the game. All they care about is his annual salary.” Dalton shook his head. “One time we made one of the Quality Control guys walk out in a suit with the rest of us after the game. We warned him not to sleep with the girl. It took everything he had. Who turns down a girl who drops to her knees with in five minutes of meeting you? When he finally told her his job, she kicked his ass out of her car so fast his head spun. She’d been pawing him up and telling him how sexy he was. A minute later he was a loser.”

  Dalton’s hands rubbed up and down her arms. Their eyes were locked on each other’s as he leaned in for another kiss she felt her lips tremble. The sound of her truck couldn’t stop the draw Dalton had on her. The idea of being caught by Stan couldn’t outweigh the feel of Dalton’s lips on hers as the whiskers of his beard tickled her.

  “Did I keep you from your job?” he asked as he pulled back and Willeen’s lips kept searching for him. “I’ll take the hit for you.”

  “I had been finishing with the last few wires. Just needed to turn it over to make sure it spits like the asthmatic cat it is.” Dalton stepped from between her legs and Willeen hopped off the tailgate. Stan got out of her truck and came to his. “Punctual as always. Let’s see if I got the timing belt on there right.”

  “How is this going to work?” Dalton asked himself as he packed his suitcase. “You know you have to get back to the city, but you want her to come with.”

  Shaking his head, he tossed his t-shirts in the duffle bag and zipped it closed. Green Bay Mist tickets were hard to come by, even for players. The area lottery guarantee’s fans get tickets, but not with the regularity they probably truly want. A call to his college roommate DeMariaus Lewis garnered him a set. With Stanley as Willeen’s plus one, Dalton wasn’t sure if the man was going as protection from the crowds or him. It seemed most times Dalton got to be alone with Willeen the last few days, Stanley showed up. As if he were keeping them apart in a way Dalton hated, especially since he knew he was going to have to get used to not seeing her once his life went back to normal. If nothing else, he learned more about his beautiful distraction than if he’d been allowed to lay in bed with her.

  “God, her laugh is amazing,” he told himself as he gazed out across the lake. Stepping out on the porch, he rested his arms on the railing and tried to plan out his day. “You need to be in Chicago by noon, that’s when your suspension is over. Go straight to the facility, give Bucky back his key and hit the weight room.”

  “Fun times,” Willie said as he heard a creak from her coming on the porch. “I see you’ve got your day planned.”

  Her hand rubbed circles on his back. Dalton closed his eyes and fought back his need for her. All he could think of was tying her up and taking her with him.

  “Slightly illegal, but…” he shook his head as he saw she had an arched eyebrow as she looked at him. “I said that out loud didn’t I?”

  “Possibly. What crime were you planning on committing?”

  “It’s not illegal if you come willingly.”

  Willeen crossed her arms and rested her back against the railing. With her feet crossed at the ankles, her relaxed smile showed her calm when around him. His hand went to her cheek as the soft velvet of her skin warmed his palm and he pushed his fingers into her shoulder length hair. Today it wasn’t restrained and he marveled at the jet-black tresses framing her face perfectly. Leaning down he found her lips and wished he could take possession of the cabin from Bucky. His career had become distant and foreign to him while he was here. When Bucky tossed Dalton the keys he could have never conceived a place or time when offensive schemes weren’t his priority.

  “You know I have a few minutes before I have to leave.”

  Her hand cupped his by her cheek. “I know, but that will just make it harder. We’ve had fun and thanks for the tickets for the game. I’ll really try to make it next week.”

  “Don’t just try. I know where the seats are. I’ll be looking for you.”

  “I’m not one for crowds.”

  “Stanley will be there.”

  Her lips turned in to his hand and kissed the center of his palm, scalding him as if she’d branded him as hers. Although he’d thought about Chicago the week after, he wasn’t going to bring it up with Willeen. Each step he took toward her, she retreated into a corner like a frightened animal. Unsure who he could ask about her past, he had to wait for her to reach for him. There was something haunting her. The way she was with him and he’d found if he sat back offering treats she came out of the corner. Although she had family in the local tribe, she’d been raised out west. Her father had passed, but that’s not why she returned. Stanley was her current protector. Only Dalton didn’t know from what and still wasn’t sure how he did that, considering his age and size, but most people in the area knew about Stanley’s maintenance of the local cabins. Willeen’s name made their heads cock to the side as if God would drop the information into their ear.

  “I know.” Her fingers trailed down the center of his chest to his belt. “Will I get a chance to see you?”

  “If you don’t mind looking like a bit of a stalker.”

  “Oh my God! That was totally going to be my Halloween costume.”

  “Perfect.” Pulling her into his arms, Dalton breathed in the scent of her hair and kissed the crown of her head. “I’ve got to go babe.”

  “Me too,” she replied and stepped back. Their hands didn’t seem to want to separate, but they knew they had to. “You’ve got my number if you need it. You know if you forgot something in the cabin or…” Willeen trailed off as she let her eyes wander to the lake. “Have a safe trip Dalton.”

  Need. There was an understatement. Dalton needed to sort out what was lust verses…well not love, but a definite desire beyond Willeen’s body. The ride back to Lake Forest to the practice facility was a blur that made him wonder if he’d even been behind the wheel. When he walked in he was greeted by Bart Tomlinson, although smaller than Dalton, he was almost as wide and made it hard for him to pass without shoving the left guard to the floor.

  “Can I help you?”

  “Do you know what I’ve been dealing with?” he snapped.

  “Worthington not filling my shoes?”

  “Oh, he’s in your shoes. Like a fucking three-year-old stumbling around. You know this mother fucker’s ankles were crossed while blocking? While blocking! If you can call what he did blocking. I call it playing patty cake. I was trying to seal the edge on twenty-three. You know what this fucker did?”

  Dalton sucked in his lips and bit to avoid making a mistake and running his mouth.

  “His ass turned like a fucking tight end in search of someone to push. Then this water head had the nerve to say he thought Matt
y called for twenty-seven. Twenty-seven!”

  “I’m going to throw it out there that Coach Tricket didn’t add a new play.”

  “You know he didn’t. Twenty-seven! It must be Matty’s fault because he said twenty-three four times. Three, plus four equaling twenty-seven.”

  Dalton slapped his teammate on the shoulder. “Since when did you learn how to add?”

  “Fuck you. If I get stuck with Worthington again I’m twisting my ankle.”

  “Basically, you missed me.” Dalton beamed while rocking back and forth with his hands in the air as if in praise. “Admit it, you like me.”

  “Next time you want to forfeit a paycheck and take a week off, let me know.”

  Worthington was sitting on the end of the bench press with his eyes turned down to the floor. The second-year man out of Baylor had been struggling, but Dalton saw the same thing Tricket saw. Size and power. The two things that couldn’t be coached. Football IQ, that was another thing. Not that Dalton was looking to mentor a kid in line for his job, but he was his father’s son.

  “Hey kid,” he said as he kicked at Worthington’s shoes.

  “This where you impart some wisdom, toss glitter on me and start singing the more you know.”

  Glaring at Dmitri Yeltsvinick, Dalton held his index finger up. “One time, you can’t let that shit go. How am I supposed to make them feel special if they know my tricks?”

  “You emotionally scarred me,” Dmitri’s flat tone relayed his sarcasm.

  “But it works, doesn’t it?” Dalton questioned about his advice on blocking a defensive lineman’s swim move. “It took me a week to get rid of the glitter.”

  “It’s called showering. Those of us past the Cro-Magnon age discovered it helps with all sorts of ailments.”

  “Fix him,” Dmitri ordered as he got up and headed to the trainer’s room. “If you don’t, we will and trust me, that little pet won’t like it.”

  Dalton sat at the bench across from Worthington. “Myron.” Dalton shook his head at the old fashion name.

  “My,” he corrected. “You can just call me My.”

  “Alright, My, what the fuck’s going on?”

  “I get mixed up on the calls that’s all.”

  “The numbers? The directions? Or is it just nerves?”

  “In the notebooks, I’m golden, then the field is different.”

  “I’ve got to check in with the coaches and Bucky.” Dalton slapped at My’s knee. “I’m getting take out, how about you pay and we go to my house. We’ll get this worked out?”

  “I’m not a rookie, quit hazing me.”

  “Did I say you were buying for the whole team?” Dalton stood. “Just me and hell, I didn’t get my paycheck last week.”

  “Who’s fault—”

  “Kid, your attitude needs to fucking stop. I saw the game and trust me I watch the line, not the ball. So does Tricket. You still hanging out in here and not being walked out the front door has more to do with me getting cleared than your performance. We’re two weeks away from the trade deadline. The fact you’re not thinking about it tells me your ass needs a lot of schooling. I feel like Italian and I don’t mean pizza. Dessert too. How about you go fetch? I’m going to be talking for a good thirty minutes or so.”

  Worthington stared up at Dalton. Yes, they were competing for the same position and he was sure this kid had more than his share of people using his translation from book to field skills against him over the years. It’s a weakness and those without talent tended to exploit that to try to get ahead. But Myron Worthington had the brass ring. He’d made it to the big show and those people got weeded out in the process as coaches saw them for who they were.

  “I didn’t get my veteran status by acting as if I knew more than the man that came before me. Stepping on people tends to leave tracks. You got picked up on a waiver, what six months ago? Want to go back out on it, or do you want to stow your victim status and go to school?”

  “You’re not afraid I’ll take your spot?” Worthington asked as he stood almost as tall as Dalton did.

  “Kid I’m pushing thirty, not every part works the way it did when I got drafted, but the only way you take my spot is if I become a liability. And if I’m a liability you better be able to step up and fill the hole I leave. Then again, Vasser could use some competition.”

  “Hey,” Troy Vasser, the right tackle called from across the weight room.

  “Quick ear husslin’ you nosey bitch,” Dalton yelled back, then turned to Worthington.

  “Italian huh?” he replied.

  “Red sauce, none of that white shit.” Dalton rubbed his belly. “Gotta keep my girlish figure you know.”

  After a successful game in Green Bay, Willeen became a bit more relaxed as each day passed without strangers showing up at the lake. She had successfully gotten lost in the crowd. Was there a chance that she could possibly be in a relationship? A real one?

  Dalton had spent the week texting and calling her in the few moments of free time he found each day. She never understood how he could be so busy, but it was nice to not have the pressure of an all-consuming partner.

  Sunday morning, Willeen drove down to Chicago and parked her car at Jerome Speed’s home. Both he and Dalton had been locked down in a hotel close to the stadium. Although nervous at first, Danika, Jerome’s fiancé, not only made her feel welcome, but helped her relax as she cut through the Chicago traffic to the stadium.

  An hour before kick-off and with the focus of holding on tight to DeMonte’s hand and protecting him, Willeen couldn’t get the knot out of her stomach. Yes, Dani had a great parking spot where she could walk less than a block in the early November winter air into the stadium, but there were too many faces moving around Willeen for her to relax. For the second week in a row, she’d be at a Grizzlies game. Only this one she wouldn’t have Stanley by her side to keep her company. This week it was Jerome Speed’s fiancé and child who, for just meeting her an hour before, Willeen found accommodating and surprisingly open to dealing with a stranger.

  “I know it’s crazy game day,” Dani’s voice was raised.

  DeMonte had a set of noise cancelling headphones over his ears to drown out most of the drunks who had tailgated a little too much. For the most part the crowd was comical and cordial, but without Dalton to keep them at bay two women walking by themselves made a great target. A man wearing one of Jerome’s jerseys fell on Willeen, spilling his beer all over the front of her shirt. The worst part was she lost DeMonte’s hand. A wave of people was taking Dani and him away. Willeen froze as the man began pawing at her chest while apologizing for the mishap. The strength she showed most days was gone.

  When she had first run, she went to L.A. and thought she could get lost in the crowds. Within a week, she was walking along the Santa Monica Pier in the middle of the day when one man knocked her shoulder. It took less than a minute before she ended up in the back of a car on her way back to Las Vegas.

  “Willie, Willie,” Dani’s voice carried over the crowd and Willeen saw the cool blue of Dani’s eyes looking back at her with worry. No longer was she being washed down the street. Instead she had one hand on Willie’s shoulder. “You back with me?”

  “Sorry, I smell like bad beer now.”

  “Yes you do, I’ll get you one of Dalton’s jerseys. Guess it’s a good thing he has a rep. Hopefully they have some without blood all over them.”

  “Yeah, what’s that all about?” Willeen asked as they walked through the player’s family and friend entrance. It had the same security, just a quicker line.

  “Are you telling me you didn’t even Google him?”

  “A little bit, but it doesn’t tell me about the blood.”

  “That’s a longer story, lets get you a clean shirt and get settled in before we have to do all that.”

  “Dani,” DeMonte pulled on Dani as they went into the official team store. “Dani, can I get a foots-ball.”

  Dani picked up the tan and blue
ball with the vicious grizzly growling on the side. It was kid sized and overpriced, but Dani didn’t even bat an eye. “Alright DeMonte, but if you lose it during the game it comes out of your allowance.”

  “It won’t, I promise.” DeMonte already had a tan jersey with his dad’s name and number on the back. “Can I gets a hat too?”

  He asked and Dani lifted him up so he could point to the one he wanted. “We’ll take the blue Grizzlies stocking hat and a number seventy-seven jersey in size…” Turning to Willeen she scanned her up and down with her eyes. “Extra large in women’s please.”

  “Those are cut a little tight.”

  “And?” she said with a smile as she pulled her coat back a bit and modeled her blue jersey with Jerome’s number on it. “You’ve got some nice curves, show them off.”

  “I’d like to be able to breathe.”

  Dani leaned in to whisper in Willeen’s ear. “You’ll be breathing, heavy when Dalton sees you in this.” With a quick swipe and no second thought, Dani had purchased the items and they were off to the ladies’ room to change before going to their suite.

  Ushers opened the door and Willie saw children running around as the adults conversed with drinks in their hands. A gust of perfumed air assaulted Willeen and she coughed trying to get the flavor of it out of her mouth.

  “Dear God what are they covering up with that,” she blurted.

  “Their rotting soul,” Dani said as she took the football and headset from DeMonte as he ran to one of his friends. Placing the headset around her neck, Dani watched to make sure DeMonte got to his destination. “At least DeMonte has made friends with Matty’s kids. Three home games in a row he finally acts like a kid. Now if I could get him to go to away games we’d be money. Oh no, trouble in the first thirty seconds, let me get him settled. Why don’t you find us a few seats?”

  Willeen wandered around the tables all ready occupied by women in high heels, fake nails and the source of the stench. Trying to push through the cloud of perfume, she attempted to make her way to the front of the suite where cushioned seats were in rows. Less people were sitting there and she saw a few openings together.