“That safety, he’s hanging back a little too long. You need to take advantage of it.”
Derek nodded without comment.
The defense held the Cats to three and out, getting the crowd into it. They huddled up, and Tyler’s gaze hit Derek. “HughJack means it. Long bomb to you, buddy.” Derek listened to the play Tyler called. HughJack was putting this first play where his mouth was.
“We need to focus on that strong safety. He’s slacking off now that they’re in the lead.”
Tyler nodded and called the play. They came out of the huddle as a united group, feeling like a different team from the one that had played the first half. Ignoring the protests from his legs and sharp pains shooting down his back, Derek ran his pattern and sprinted for the end zone sixty yards away. He left his defenders eating his dust. Tyler had the best arm in the league; he’d get the ball there.
Derek hauled in the pass for six. The stands erupted. He did a little dance with the guys, tucked the ball under his arm, and ran to the sidelines to hand it to Ryan. If he had his way, the kid would have quite a collection before the season ended.
The kicker added another point. The momentum shifted, and the Steelheads never looked back. They were on their way.
One down.
Chapter 24—Unnecessary Roughness
Derek took another long draw from his beer. His eyes narrowed as he glared at his cousin. “What’s your problem?”
“What do you mean?” Tyler glared right back, obviously itching for a fight instead of basking in his glory.
“Why are you in such a surly mood? You should be insufferably pleased with yourself.”
“I am, which is why I’m being such an ass.”
“No, I’ve seen you be an ass after a big win before. This is nothing like that.” Derek propped his chin on his hand and watched him.
Tyler shrugged and ordered another beer.
“It’s almost midnight. I don’t need this shit. It’s been a long day. I’m going home.” Derek whipped out a twenty and put it on the table.
“Ah, hell yeah, you just leave your cousin drowning in misery while you go home to Rachel.”
“I’m going home alone.” Though the idea did have its merits. Big ones in the form of soft skin, sinful lips, a wickedly sweet smile, and long legs wrapped around his straining body. Damn. His cock grew to painful proportions.
“You’re not fooling me.” Tyler lowered his voice. “I know you two have a thing. I just can’t figure out where you’re going with it.”
“Nowhere,” Derek said honestly.
“You really are a dumb shit.”
Derek yanked himself back to reality and scowled, pissed that Tyler’s attitude had ruined a good fantasy.
“Me? Hell, what did I do? I played a fucking good game today. You can’t fault me. I caught every damn ball thrown my way in the second half and scored two fucking touchdowns and made the crucial block for a third.”
“Well, congratulations to you for doing your job.” Tyler scowled and threw back his beer. He slammed the beer glass on the table, over half-full. “This is just fucking great. You’ve even ruined my appreciation for good beer.”
“Fuck yourself.”
Tyler laughed. “Hell, I have been. I haven’t had a real woman in a few months.” He sat back and leveled his best intimidation glare at his cousin.
So that was Tyler’s problem. “With an attitude like yours, you’ll be waiting for several more.” Derek sobered, breathed in, breathed out. “Look, Ty, why didn’t you join us for pizza? Ryan asked about you.”
“I couldn’t get away from the press. Had to do a couple of TV interviews.” Tyler sat back, obviously fighting to control his infamous temper.
“I don’t give a shit if you’re an ass about everything else; you need to go see him.”
“I will. I’m just not great company right now.”
“You’re never great company.” Derek snorted.
“It’s not like you’ve got all the answers. You’re the stupid fucker.”
“Go to hell.”
“I’m already there. It’s nice and warm. You should join me.” Tyler sneered at his cousin.
“I have no clue what the hell you’re so pissed about. If there’s more you want to say, go ahead, get it out of your system.”
“It’s Rachel. Don’t fuck this up like I did with Cass. She’s the best thing that ever happened to you.”
“It’ll never work out.”
“Because you don’t want it to. Did you ever stop to think that your successes lately might be related to Rachel being back in your life? You have balance now, someone who cares and listens.”
“In that case, why are you doing so well?”
“Obviously, because I thrive on pain and chaos. We’re not made the same. Admit defeat about Rachel and get on with your perfect little life together.”
“There is no future for Rachel and me. Get it? We don’t have a future. Just a right now. Not with our careers at odds with each other.” Just saying the words crushed his chest, like being buried under four of the league’s biggest linemen.
“You’re dumber than I gave you credit for if you buy that bullshit. The only person you’re bullshitting is yourself.”
“That’s enough, Ty.”
Tyler ignored the threatening tone of his cousin’s voice. “She’s in love with you, and you’re going to break her fucking heart again because you’re a chickenshit coward.”
“Enough.” Derek gritted his teeth, barely able to force the words out.
“You are in love with her, you idiot. There are always solutions if you want it badly enough.”
“I said, shut up.” His head spun, and denial raged inside him even as the truth of the words settled in his heart.
“You don’t deserve her.”
Derek slammed his fist on the table so loud others turned to stare at him. “Rachel is off-limits in any conversation with you from now on. Got it?”
“Yeah, sure. Go ahead, be a lonely dumb shit. Enjoy yourself.” Tyler tossed a few bills on the table and stomped out of the bar.
~ ~ ~ ~
Ryan lifted his head when he heard the rap on his bedroom door. “Come in.”
“Hey, bud. Slummin’ it?” Tyler Harris slipped through the door. His gaze flicked to Ryan’s deteriorating body, then to his face. Tyler’s eyes reflected the same story he’d seen on every other person who’d walked into this room the past few days. Ryan had quit looking in a mirror months ago. What he’d seen there scared the crap out of him. He didn’t recognize his own face. His body resembled a skeleton with a layer of paper-thin skin spread over it.
“I’m doin’ okay. You should be doing great.”
“Oh, yeah. Definitely.” Tyler faked a smile, but it didn’t work. Ryan had become an expert at reading people in the past year. The quarterback was uncomfortable around him.
“You’ve been avoiding me, and I know why.”
“No, I haven’t. I’ve been busy. You know how that is.”
“Actually, I don’t. At least not anymore.” Ryan fiddled with the edge of his blanket. He gathered the courage to force the next words out of his mouth. “Have you found out anything?”
“Uh, no. Still looking.” Tyler refused to meet his eyes.
“Liar. You know something.” Ryan’s stomach twisted in a tight knot. He waited for the bomb to drop.
“Ryan, let’s just let it go.”
“I have to know. I asked you to find my mother, and you said you would. You’re keeping something from me.”
“Hell no. I’d tell you straight if I knew anything.”
“Bullshit. You found her.” Ryan reached for Tyler’s hand and gripped it hard, considering his weakened state. “I have to know. Where is she?”
Tyler held on to his hand and sat on the edge of the bed. Their eyes met. The pain in Tyler’s eyes didn’t surprise him as much as it should have. “In Vegas.”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me? W
hat’s she doing?” Ryan stared at the picture on the dresser of his mother and him in his football uniform taken last year at the only game she’d ever attended. She’d left by the second quarter.
“Working in an exotic dance club.”
“She’s a stripper?” Ryan shook his head.
“Uh, some people call them that.” Tyler picked at lint on the comforter with his free hand.
“Give it to me straight. She’s been one before.” Hope snuck in and ambushed him as he said his next words. “Did you tell her about me?”
“Yeah.” Tyler avoided his eyes, a bad sign, really bad.
“What did she say?”
Tyler bit his lower lip and stared at a point on the wall. He shrugged, and a muscle jerked in his rigid jaw.
“Is she coming home?”
“Uh, not for a while.”
“I don’t have a while.” Her abandonment sucked the remaining warmth out of his body. With one hand, he tugged the blankets up to his chin, but the bone-deep cold settled in his core. He should’ve known she wasn’t coming back. Wasn’t going to stay with him during his last days. She really didn’t love him. His head sank back against the pillow.
“You have us. All of us. We love you, man. We’re your family now. We’ll be there every step of the way.”
Their eyes met. Ryan’s throat constricted. The truth behind Tyler’s words penetrated his pain. He squeezed the quarterback’s hand and pointed at the picture. “Would you take that away for me? I don’t want it in here.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.” He choked on a sob. “Thanks for dropping by, but I’m really tired.” He shut his eyes and faked falling asleep.
A few minutes later, Tyler squeezed, then released his hand and crept from the room.
Once the door shut, Ryan opened his eyes. The picture was gone. Tears streamed down his cheeks, and sobs racked his body. She hadn’t been much of a mother, but she’d been the only mother he had. He missed her.
He needed her.
Chapter 25—Broken Tackle
You don’t deserve her. Tyler’s words infiltrated Derek’s brain until he couldn’t think of anything else. Maybe he hadn’t deserved her in the past, but he was playing on an entirely different field now. He’d fooled himself all along, and so had she. They’d mired themselves in an emotional relationship they’d sworn wouldn’t happen, yet they knew it would play out just like it had.
He’d been an idiot to think he could have a strictly physical affair with Rachel of all women. Hell, she’d always been the one he couldn’t forget. What a stupid dumb ass he’d been.
By some cruel twist of fate, they’d been forced together, and he didn’t regret one moment.
Sex with Rachel had never been a quick screw. It went so much deeper. Deep enough that he’d fallen for her all over again, only worse this time. This time he didn’t want to let go. Ever.
His heart dug in its heels and fought for all it was worth. Even while denial fought against the reality of their situation, things between them had clicked along until all the pieces fell into place and left him with one undeniable truth.
He loved her.
Weird. Crazy weird.
He always thought love would be a trap, claustrophobic and unwelcome. He didn’t feel trapped or smothered; he felt freed and content. In fact, he felt damn good.
Rachel filled every empty part of him. Gave him a new life and a new outlook. When she had his back, he believed he could do anything. She’d given him back his game, his desire, his confidence. He’d grown to trust her with his innermost secrets and, more importantly, with his heart.
Which led him to an unlikely spot—her father’s doorstep.
Derek rapped on the door and wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans. His hands shook, and he jammed them in his pockets, mortified that anyone, especially Rachel’s male relatives, might see him as such a nervous wreck.
Mitch opened the door and glowered at him, the disgust on his face clearer than the headlines on Monday’s sports page. Without a word, Rachel’s surly brother stood back, allowing Derek past him into the dark, dreary spaces of the mobile home.
Derek hesitated and waited for Mitch to lead the way into the cramped dining room. Coach sat at the Formica table, an unreadable expression on his face. Derek’s once formidable high school coach didn’t look so formidable now. He’d aged decades in a few short years. His hair had grayed, and his eyes were devoid of their usual intensity and energy.
Mitch dropped into the chair next to his father, leaving Derek the only empty space across the table. Derek sat, keeping his hands anchored to his thighs and out of sight. He shifted in his chair and stared at the table, gathering his thoughts. Lifting his head, he faced a tough crowd.
“I suppose you’re wondering why I asked you to meet with me today.” His voice sounded clear and calm in direct contrast to the turbulence buffeting his insides.
Both men stared at him. Not a word, their faces etched in stone and giving nothing away.
“I wanted both your sons here, but I guess Mark couldn’t make it.” Derek addressed his old coach. The man just nodded and munched on a handful of popcorn from the bowl on the table.
Mitch snarled something unintelligible.
Taking a deep, calming breath, Derek dived into enemy territory. “I want to marry your daughter.”
“What the hell?” Mitch tried to rise to his feet, but his father clamped a restraining hand on his son’s shoulder. Mitch sat back down. His gaze shot daggers at Derek from across the table.
“Is she pregnant?” Dave McCormick spoke for the first time. Their eyes met momentarily before Coach focused his attention on finding the best kernel of popcorn in the bowl.
“No, sir, she’s not.” Derek swiped a hand across his sweaty forehead.
Mitch started to open his mouth, but Coach shut him up with a withering look.
“Let me handle this, Mitch.” Dave McCormick sat back in his chair and assessed Derek with shrewd eyes. Derek fought to keep from squirming in his chair. For a moment, he was transported back to his high school days when his coach approached him on the sidelines and evaluated his performance with a few effective words. Always spot-on. He hadn’t a clue if he passed muster this time around.
“Why do you want to marry my daughter?” Coach put his elbows on the table and leaned forward, abandoning his interest in the popcorn bowl.
“I love her.” There, it was out. Just saying it liberated him.
“Bullshit.” Mitch snorted and rolled his eyes.
Coach glared at Mitch, then turned back to Derek. “I don’t find that so farfetched. Rachel is a catch for any man.” Spoken like a true devoted father.
Derek almost grinned. “I’d prefer to have your blessing. I know I have a lot to prove to you and your family. Give me a chance. I promise I’ll make her happy.”
Coach rubbed his chin and considered Derek’s words. “It takes a lot of guts coming here. I respect that.”
Mitch shot to his feet and leaned over the table. This time he ignored his father’s protests. “You have a hell of a lot of nerve. You don’t love Rachel. You’re an opportunist.”
Confused, Derek stared up at Mitch. “What?”
“Don’t play stupid with me, Ramsey. You sold Dad out. You ruined his career, his future, and took Rachel and me down with him.”
Derek glanced at Coach. The man wasn’t looking at either of them; instead, he’d become absorbed in that damn bowl of popcorn once again.
Mitch glared down at him. “You can’t marry Rachel. She’s a coach, and she’s not giving up that job for you.”
“We’ll find a way.” Derek stood to his full height and angled his body into Mitch’s personal space. Eye to eye, nose to nose, they stared each other down.
“You and your asshole cousin didn’t defend Dad when he needed you most. Your silence convicted him in the press and on social media.”
Derek gripped the edge of the table to prevent slamming hi
s fists into Mitch’s smug face. “Coach knows why Ty and I couldn’t vouch for him.”
Mitch turned to his father, some of his anger dissipating. “Is that true?”
Derek rubbed his face and dropped back into his chair. Weariness settled over him. He looked to his one-time mentor.
“Are you referring to the state championship your junior year?” Coach asked.
Derek nodded, watching the two men warily.
“Jacob got excited on the last play and fought the wrong guy for the ball. That’s all I know,” Coach said, still not meeting Derek’s gaze.
Mitch sat down and leaned back in the chair, balancing it on two legs. “Know what, Ramsey? Rachel has been getting close to you to help clear her father. To help her career. Did you really think she loved you? That she cared? Hell, she cares about herself and Dad. Not you.” The front legs of Mitch’s chair slammed to the floor with a bang.
Derek flinched and resisted clutching his churning stomach. He couldn’t show weakness to Mitch. The guy would go for the jugular. He’d sworn he’d never hurt Rachel again, and now she was the one doing the hurting. Life changed its game plan and left him warming the bench.
He shook his head. This couldn’t be true. Mitch was wrong.
His mind drifted to an image of his father standing in the bay window, waiting, waiting, always waiting. Bone-deep pain etched in his father’s strong features, forever a symbol burned into Derek’s mind of what loving someone did to a person.
And he’d almost made the same damn mistake.
Chapter 26—Block in the Back
Rachel muted the sound on the game DVD they’d been watching. “Are you okay? You’re acting strange.”
“I’m fine.” Derek’s tight voice said he was anything but. He slid a little farther away from her on the couch, his body stiff and unyielding and sheltered by an emotional brick wall.
She itched to put her arms around him, to pull him close, to wipe the misery from his face. Yet she held back and postponed the inevitable bad news.
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