By the time I make it back to my little Airbnb apartment, I’m about frozen. I did not prepare for blizzard conditions. The first thing to do is try to reserve the next flight out. Every airline is booked for days. I spend hours on the phone, waiting and waiting. Finally, I’m able to get a seat, but it’s not for five days from now. The agent explains that it may be wise to get to the airport six hours before my flight, because the airport will be a mess that day. Since Andi and I didn’t work out, there isn’t any sense in me hanging around here longer than necessary. And since I’m going to be delayed for so long, there’s no sense in staying here and trying to see Mom and Dad. I’ve decided to head back to Rome.
It’s after midnight when I crash, but my sleep isn’t what one would call restful. I end up tossing and turning all night until I eventually get up around seven. It’s so quiet, the building seems to be coated in a soundproof quilt. When I look out the window, I know why. There must be two feet of snow on the ground. It’s pristine, gorgeous, and I’m fucked. I don’t even have a pair of boots or gloves with me. What the hell am I going to do? Being stuck in Chicago is one thing. Being homebound is another. My blood is too fucking thin for this weather. Yes, I am a cold weather wimp.
Scrounging through the fridge, I come up with something to nibble on, but I’m starved. I need to go out and get some food. There’s a small grocery store on the corner, so I decide to brave it. When I get there, they are out of almost everything, but they do have coffee, juice, and snacks left on the shelves. I buy everything I can carry back to my place. When I get home, my feet are numb. Running shoes are not a great choice for blizzard conditions. Thank God the unit has a washer and dryer. It doesn’t take them long to dry, although it sounds like someone is getting the shit beaten out of them.
Mom calls to check on me. I assure her I am fine and there is nothing she can do since she is in North Carolina.
“Your uncle can come and get you.”
“Mom, there is too much snow. I would never ask him to get out in this. They haven’t cleared the roads yet. Honestly, I’m fine. I went to the store and stocked up. Don’t worry so much.”
“Don’t ever tell a mother not to worry about her children. One day you’ll understand, Chase.”
That’s not likely, but I don’t mention it to her. We say our goodbyes and I turn the TV on. What great timing I have, because it’s just in time to catch Lucia, or rather a recording of her, saying that we’re not engaged after all. It was a misunderstanding. Only the way she says it, and then how she sobs afterward, makes her look like the spurned woman. Excellent. Fucking awesome. What else can go wrong? This has turned into an epic shit show.
My phone rings and Max is calling.
“Max, what the fuck was that?”
“Was what?”
“Lucia’s retraction.”
“It was the best I could get from her,” Max says.
“Yeah, well, the media is going to crucify me.”
“Maybe not. If we can capture her cavorting with someone else, who knows? So when are you coming back? We need to discuss your contract.”
“I’m stuck here, Max.”
“Stuck? What do you mean?”
I explain my situation.
“Shit.” But when he says it, it sounds like sheet.
“Exactly. I have a reservation in five days, but the agent wasn’t optimistic. With the way things are today, it doesn’t look like anything will go out today. Not to mention, it’s still snowing.”
“Then the phone will have to do. You need to consider what Munich is offering. They’re currently third in the world and in Europe. Rome is eighth in the world, I’m sorry to say. The contract is solid. Our attorneys have asked and received everything you wanted. You won’t get a better deal.” Then he chuckles and says, “Unless, of course, Madrid offers you something.” Madrid is number one, so I doubt I’ll be getting that call.
“That would be nice, huh?”
“My opinion is you’re in a better position where you are. You have room for growth and your skill level is as good or better than the Madrid players. That’s why we can negotiate such a great contract.”
“How long before I have to tell them?”
“You’ll have until the end of January, and then the opportunity will be gone. I don’t want you to lose this, Chase. These kinds of contracts don’t come along very often. Not with this kind of money attached.”
“Okay. Thanks, Max. And out of curiosity, what kind of money could I get back here in the States?”
I hear a choking sound. “Did you say the States?”
“Yeah.”
“You can’t possibly want to play there. They aren’t even ranked. They couldn’t pay what you’re worth.”
“Aside from all that, what do you think I could get?”
“I’d have to check, but maybe a quarter of what you’re making, if that much. If you want to play in the States, you should consider their football. You know, the fake one.” He laughs.
“Hey, don’t forget my brother is a quarterback for the pros.”
“Then play for his team. Maybe he could get you on as a place kicker. You’re such a great striker, I imagine you could be a great asset as one of those.”
“Max, you’re so fucking funny, do you hear me laughing?” I’m doing anything but.
“All the way in Rome. Call me, Chase, when you can give me an answer.”
“I want you to check on those figures about playing back here first.”
“You can’t be serious?”
“Just check. You’re my agent. That’s what I pay you to do. And make sure Lucia doesn’t make an ass out of me.”
“I’m trying. Stay away from the ladies.” Those are his last words before the phone disconnects.
My head pounds. Was I serious about moving back here and downgrading to a U.S. team? With Andi out of the picture, why would I even consider it?
I flip on the TV and channel surf, trying to come up with something to watch. As it turns out, the only thing worth watching is football, and not the kind I play. Before I know it, I wake up several hours later. When I peer out the window, it’s still snowing. I feel like a caged animal. The skies are gray, telling me there’s no break in sight. Staying in here for the rest of the day and night isn’t going to work for me. I shower, dress in the warmest things I have, and head back out to the closest bar. It’s only a couple of blocks from here.
To my surprise, the place is open, and packed. The TVs are on because the Bears are playing. After waiting in line, I get the bartender’s attention and snag a beer. The guy standing next to me is an obnoxious fan and yells constantly. Maybe a few beers will dull his voice. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work, so I move to another spot. Only it seems the place is filled with these people. Why shouldn’t it be? It’s Chicago, Chase. These are local fans, you dumbass.
Doing my best to ignore them, I keep drinking. I guess it’s because I’ve always been on the field playing, or with my brother, and never noticed this kind of shit before, but damn, these people are loud. Really loud. It’s dark out by now, and I’m getting pretty fucking drunk and pretty fucking sick of hearing them boast about their team, and blah, blah, blah. All I want to do is get the hell out of this town.
When I can’t stand any more, when I’ve finally reached that point, the point where everything hits—the issue with Lucia, the fact that I came all this way to tell Andi I love her, only to find she has a family, and then the damn blizzard—I let it all out.
“I don’t know why the hell you keep going on and on about this shit. This isn’t even fucking football. The real football is played in Europe.”
Everyone around me stops talking and stares at me.
“What the fuck did you say?” some burly guy stands up and asks. He’s all geared up in a Bears baseball hat and football jersey, and he outweighs me by fifty pounds. Even though it’s not muscle, I’m sure his fist is the size of a bear’s paw.
“I’m pretty fucki
ng sure you heard me.”
The dude gets in my face. “You can’t be talking about that pansy ass game where those pussies kick a ball around and can’t touch each other, are you?”
My fists ball up. “I’m not sure I heard what you said.”
“No, I think you did. That shit played in Europe, soccer, ain’t football, dude. So if you don’t like what you see, take your pussy ass out of here and go back to Europe and fangirl over there.”
“Did you say fangirl?”
He grins. “You bet I did.”
I don’t blink or wait for him to think. My fist flies and I deck him in the kisser. He drops like a stone. Now I have a problem, because it’s me against everyone in the bar and I’m not sober. Someone pops me straight in the nose and face a couple of times, and another person lands a few hits to my ribs because I’m being held from behind, but the fight is broken up before it gets started. Some big ass fucker grabs me and throws me out on the sidewalk.
“If you ever bring your face in here again, you’re going to jail. Got it?”
Not bothering to answer, because there’s no reason to, I stagger to my feet and stumble away. My nose is probably broken, and I’m not sure what else is messed up. I can’t breathe, so my ribs might be cracked. Blood runs into my mouth and I hope my damn teeth aren’t damaged. When I get to the corner, someone is there who asks if I need help. My shit show has turned into a shit storm and this part is my own making.
“Can you get me a taxi? I probably should go to the hospital.” The words are so slurred, I’m not sure if he even understands me.
“Do you need me to call 911?” he asks.
“No! I’m not that bad off. A cab or Uber will do. Here, use my phone.” I hope he doesn’t steal the fucking thing. That would be my luck. Turns out, he’s a good Samaritan and an Uber shows up. I’m a little surprised, given the weather.
When I get in the car, the driver says, “Hey, man, don’t bleed in this car.”
“I won’t. Just take me to the closest ER.”
“What happened?”
“Someone punched me.”
“Wow, you should call the police.”
“Nah, it was … never mind.” The hospital isn’t far at all, and I add a hefty tip to the Uber fee and thank him.
“Good luck with that.”
As I’m weaving my way toward the door, all I can think of is what a disastrous trip this has been. It’s then I hear my name.
“Chase?”
I look up and see a vision standing there.
Nine
Andi
Blood mars his beautiful face and I can’t stop myself from racing over to cup his cheek to make sure he’s okay.
“Chase, what happened?”
His hands circle my wrists. “I’m okay, Andi. Just a little misunderstanding.”
“Misunderstanding?” I repeat in disbelief. I lightly rub a fingertip over the bridge of his nose. “It’s probably broken.”
Glazed, but sad eyes hold mine with fierce determination. He removes my hand from his face and my heart cracks. Every other time I’ve seen him over the years, he’s welcomed my touch. Not today. I drop my arms with no choice but to accept the boundaries he’s drawn between us.
“That’s why I’m here,” he slurs.
The reek of alcohol permeates the air between us. I’m about to speak when he takes a wobbly step forward and winces. He presses his palm to his chest. Had his bloody nose been the result of him getting into a brawl? He nearly takes a tumble with his next step. I duck under his arm and help him inside. Thankfully, he doesn’t push me away.
I use my employee card to get through the secured doors. I recognize one of the nurses once we get inside. After seeing me, she waves me through to the back. I steer him toward the triage area when Beth sees me.
“Hey,” she says with wide eyes and immediately moves to his other side to help me with the big man.
She guides us into the main emergency area and into one of the empty rooms. It’s not protocol to skip triage, but working at the hospital and having my best friend be a nurse in the emergency department has its perks.
Relief sets in once he’s seated on the bed. Beth gives me a what the fuck glance before turning her eyes on the patient.
“Can you tell me what happened, sir?”
I don’t think when I cut in and introduce him.
“This is Chase.”
Her jaw comes unhinged and her eyes bug out. “The Chase?”
I nod and glance over. However, my former flame isn’t tracking our conversation. When he opens his mouth, it’s clear he’s been stuck at her first question.
“What happened? I’ll tell you. The fucking asshole’s friends didn’t appreciate me taking down the guy a peg. Figures. They have to be stupid not to understand football by definition and logic is a sport you play primarily with your foot and not your hands.” He chuckles and continues to speak as if each word was connected. “I showed them what you do with your hands. And well, I would have won if they didn’t all come at me at the same time.”
“Uh-huh,” Beth says, used to multitasking.
She’s checking over his face and notices his split lip.
She sighs. “Any other places you’re injured?”
“His chest,” I say before Chase can. He glares at me, so I add, “He might have a few broken ribs. He was grabbing it when I found him.”
“Where?” she asks. I point to the spot he’d clutched earlier. She directs her next question at him. “Anywhere else? Abdominal pain or lower back?”
He shakes his head and says, “No.”
“Can you tell me your pain level from one to ten, ten being the worst pain you’ve experienced in your life?”
A lopsided grin forms on his face. “Does that include a broken heart?”
Damn him, the flirt. She gets his smile and not me. I don’t want to be jealous, but envy grows like a weed in my chest.
“I bet you’re the heartbreaker,” she says.
“Okay,” I say, annoyed and wanting them back on track. “One to ten, Chase?”
“I don’t know.” He ends with a little laugh, reminding us both he’s drunk.
Beth shifts to the computer. “Let me get him in the system so we can get a doctor in here. Someone from up front will be in here as soon as I enter this for your insurance information. Your name?”
When Chase hesitates, I answer, “Chase Wilde.”
“Address?”
“Rome,” he says, thinking he’s funny. Beth shoots him an exasperated look.
I rattle off his parents’ address in Waynesville.
“Thanks. I need to get his blood pressure and temperature, and someone will probably be in to draw blood for labs.”
Stepping back, I put more distance between us, giving Beth the opportunity to do her job. After she’s done, she hands him a gown. “Get undressed and the doctor should be in shortly. Do you need assistance?”
“He’s fine,” I say, although with him being as drunk as he is, I’m not so sure.
She gestures with her head, asking me to follow her. Once we pass the boundary of the curtain, she closes it to afford him some privacy.
“What the hell?” she whispers.
“I have no idea. He came by yesterday and I haven’t heard from him since. Not that he has to check in with me. I just happened to run into him in the parking lot as I was leaving after my shift when he stumbled out of a car.”
“Are you okay? Did he come to see you?”
My shoulders slump. “I don’t think so. Not that it matters. He’s engaged.”
She gives me a dirty look. “When were you going to tell me all of this?”
I shrug. Had he come here to tell me about his engagement? The thought makes my eyes burn. Beth, reading my thoughts, pats my shoulders.
“We’ll talk later. I’ve got patients.”
“Okay.”
I take a moment before entering Chase’s room. When I do, he’s all tangled
up in trying to get off his shirt. It’s halfway up his torso, revealing a swath of lightly tanned skin with all its ridges and planes. Luckily, his face is covered. He doesn’t notice my riveted stare or my hesitation. The idea that he might flinch from my touch is reason enough for my reluctance.
Finally, I help him. My palms burn against his skin as I push the shirt up until his head pops free, leaving his hair a static cling mess. For a second, we both freeze. We’ve never been this close without acting on our lust since that first time we were together. My heart beats a thousand times faster, skipping a few here and there. Finally, I move back, tugging at the cloth until his arms are out of the holes. What had tethered us together crumples in my hands as I fight my need to touch him.
“You need to remove your pants as well,” I say.
For privacy’s sake, I turn, giving him a view of my back as I fight to regain my composure. I have loved this man since the first day I laid eyes on him. He’s been my biggest champion, my defender, and my first for so many things.
It all began so long ago and he’s never treated me differently, always an equal. He taught me how to play all sports, including his beloved football, though then he called it soccer. Seems living overseas, he’s adopted a new attitude about that, which brought him here today.
A loud thump jolts me from my thoughts. I spin around to find Chase bent over, clutching his chest with one hand. The other tries but fails at pushing his pants down while braced against the hospital bed.
In a rush, I’m at his side helping him back onto the bed.
“Lie back,” I say, hating the pain etched on his face.
Then as clinically as possible, I remove his pants after I get his shoes off.
I want to sag after he’s dressed in a gown with a blanket over him. I can’t think of another time I helped him undress that we weren’t on the verge of fucking each other’s brains out. For a second, I close my eyes, trying to fight those memories. Hell, it’s not just the sex I remember. It’s the way he’d look at me after. The way he’d tenderly touch my face and how I wanted to believe I’d meant everything to him. I fight the urge not to cry at my stupidity. When I open them, I find his lids firmly shut.
Worth Every Risk Page 6
