by Kara Hart
Shit, I muttered, running out to them. From the other side, Jenkins was shaking his head. He pointed at me and ran his index finger across his neck. Just my luck. I had to deal with women and friendship shit during the Championship game.
“Alright. Wishbone formation. This is a running play. I’ll hand it to Randy and the rest of you are his defense. Got it? You guys ready?” The team nodded at me. There were no gimmicks this game. There was only real leadership that worked. We were going to win this the old school way. “Alright. Break!”
I walked to my place, extending my hands outward. I couldn’t stop glancing at Laura. I wanted her to know that I was happier than ever. I wanted to tell her that it’s what I’ve wanted to happen since we got back together in Los Angeles. “Hike!” I screamed. The ball spiraled into my hands and I dropped back and pivoted to the right.
Randy, who was moving like a salamander, stealthily grabbed the ball from my hands and ran seven full yards before being tackled. “Yes!” I hissed, slamming my fist into the air. Only three yards to go before we got a first down. I snuck a glance at Jenkins and began laughing to myself.
He pounded his fists against his helmet with rage. What a clown, I thought. I flipped him off and he came barreling onto the field like a ton of bricks.
He pushed his chest onto mine and said, “You want to fucking go, playboy?”
I pushed him off me, flexing my muscles and tightening my fist. If he really wanted to fight me, I was game. But he needed to remember one thing: “We had a pact, brother. Now what do we have?”
“You threw that away when you decided to slow down and throw away your football career for that stupid fucking woman.” He cried out, getting angrier by the second.
“Say it. Say the words. I dare you. She means everything to me. She’s worth more than the game. Shit, the game doesn’t even come close.” I spit.
“Yeah? And what about me? I guess our friendship meant nothing to you?” He ran his hands through his hair as sweat dripped down from his face. Security had rushed onto the field, pulling him off me.
“It’s fine, I’m all good. Let him go. He’ll cool off on the side of the field.” I said to them. “Man, you’re looking crazier and crazier by the second, making up lies like that to me. I should’ve known your ego was bigger than us. I just can’t wait to keep winning out here today and put you in your place.”
For the first time in my life, I walked away from a fight. It just wasn’t worth the hassle. We brought it back in. I said, “Good running, Randy. You’re killing it out there. Let’s keep it short and sweet. All we need right now is three more yards and we get that first down. From there, we’ll play hardball. This is a simple run and gun play, okay? Same as before, only this time I’ll run it in.”
“You?” Charlie interjected. “You sure? They’re playin’ tough out there. What if they sack you and we lose some yards?”
“We’ll be fine.” I said, unable to give him the time of day. As selfish as it was, I was going to be the star of the game. I just found out I was going to be a daddy, again, and I wanted to win this game for him. Or her, rather. “Alright, break.”
As we ran back into the center of the field, Charlie whispered to me, “Stop taunting Jenkins. I know you guys have some shit to take care of between you, but don’t even acknowledge him, man. Let’s win this thing, make some money, and go home.”
“I like where your head’s at man.” I gave him a hug and a pound and fell into formation. “Hike!” I grabbed the ball and attempted to run left. In my sight was a path to victory, an open and narrow road where no defensive lineman currently stood. Three yards was all I needed.
I ran at full speed, only I missed something important. One of the linemen had broken through the barrier to the right. He was blitzing me! “Fuck!” I yelled, only it was far too late. I dropped back, twisting my ankles together, as the lineman shot his head into my ribs. We came crashing down like two heavy weights and I instantly felt something tear. I heard it first, and then the pain radiated through my legs and body.
“No!” I screamed, clutching at my ankle. I must've torn my Achilles’ Heel. I didn't know what else it could be. Laura, of course, came darting out of her seat. She was held back by security, forced to watch as a medic ran onto the field.
“Everything is fine.” I yelled. “Just leave me alone. I'll be good in a few minutes.” I lied.
The medic looked me square in the eye and reasoned with me. “Do you hear what you're saying to me? ‘Cause what I'm hearing is that you don't care if you can walk on that ankle ever again. It's pretty obvious you’ve injured yourself pretty bad.”
“I'll sit for a few plays, but I am not letting that team go home with the trophy. Tell the coaches I'm fine and need some rest. If you don't, you'll regret it. And yes, that's a fucking threat.” I muttered through my teeth.
The medic looked around and called it. “Pull him out for a few plays. He just needs to rest it off.” He lied to the coaches. I thanked God he made that call.
Jenkins, however, was now screaming bloody murder on the side of the field. He just couldn't understand the call.
I sat on the side, twiddling my thumbs and feeling anxious. We had become too predictable now. Each play the coach called was met with hard defense and strong determination. By the time I was able to go back in, they had scored two touchdowns on us.
Before I ran back in, I checked my phone. “I'm so grateful for your love.” She texted me. “I'm hoping you're not as injured as it seems. You need to give them all you got out there.” I nodded and made my way onto the field. There was no stopping me.
Despite my urge to be the star of the game, I quickly realized we needed the whole team playing their best. It wasn't about me anymore, it was about the Patriots.
“Fuck it.” I said to myself, picking a set of plays that could take us to the winning side. They were the back-up plays and they hadn't been used all season. I ran them, over and over again like heavy artillery during warfare. They didn’t stand a chance. Touchdown! Charlie’s hands wrapped around that pigskin and ducked into the end zone. That was one goal.
Lucky for us, my teammates recognized all that was at stake now. “You ready to play some ball?” I asked them. “That's right!” They screamed at the top of their lungs, “Patriots!” The cheerleaders were going wild and the audience was on the edge of their seats. Our defense held strong and forced them to turnover the ball back to us. With less than fifteen minutes left in the game, we had our work cut out for us.
We had those winning plays in our back pocket though, and as soon as I looked over at Laura, I know we’d win it. “Hut! Hut! Hike!”
I dropped back, knowing this was it, and eyed Charlie. “Come on, man. Take it home.” I whispered. The ball left my hand like a bullet shooting through space. One of the linebackers tried to intercept the ball. It hit his palm and then his fingers, and for a split second I thought he had this. But even though it slowed down in speed and direction, Charlie caught the damn thing, running it into the end zone with seconds to spare. We had won the game. Tonight, Charlie was our man.
“You did it!” People cried out to him. Our team rushed the field and picked him up on their shoulders. The ice water was poured over Coach Stevens’ back. Jenkins fell to the ground, pounding at the grass and crying like a little baby. As for me, I turned away from the team to find someone important to me, Laura.
Cameras flashed all around me, a reporter shoved his microphone in my face, but I swatted it out of the way. I jumped over the guardrail and ran up the bleachers. Fans from all over were running their hands over my pads, screaming for a picture. I ignored them. The game was over and I didn't care to bask in the glory of winning. Not to mention, my ankle was killing me.
I picked up my child and kissed his forehead. “You did it, Daddy!” He cheered. I wrapped my arm around Laura’s waist and gave her the biggest kiss in the world.
The same reporter ran up behind me. He called out, “Liam Conway. Y
ou just won another Super Bowl! What do you have to say to your fans?” He asked me.
I turned to him and said, “I couldn't have done it without their support.” The fans loved that kind of shit. “Wait. Scratch that. I couldn't have done it without her support.” I corrected myself.
A million more questions flashed my way. Eager fans jumped around me. “That's all for tonight, guys. I have to make love to my fiancé. We’re having another baby!” I screamed, picking both Alex and Laura up and running out of the stadium.
“Don't you have to be with your team?” She asked me as we fell into my car.
“Baby, there's nothing I'd rather do than be with you right now. Let's get out of this city. Let's take a trip.” I said.
“A trip? Liam, you have to go to the after party tonight! There might be drafting scouts there.” She practically screamed.
“Fuck all that.” I said. Alex laughed and Laura gave me a scowl. “I'm serious, baby. Let's get out of here and start a life together. I've got all the money in the world. Let me spend it on my family.”
She shook her head. “Okay. We can take a trip. But you're healing that ankle and playing next season!”
“Fine. Whatever it takes to have your heart.” I said, gazing into her eyes.
She sighed and gave me a longing look. “Oh, Liam. You had me from the beginning. I love you for finding me again.”
That night we stayed up listening to music, cooking good food, and watching movies. We had missed out on so many things that couples do that we had to rush to play catch up. Despite it all, we both felt incredibly lucky. Whatever after parties were happening tonight, I was celebrating getting my family back. It was obvious we were meant for each other.
About the Author
Kara Hart is a new author from the Southwest. She’s a full time student, writer, and mother of two loving dogs. She loves bad boys with a darker, sweeter side to them.
She knows someday she’ll get invited into the MC…someday…
I LOVE hearing from my fans! I do my best to respond to everyone, so please follow me on
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Other Bad Boy Books by Kara Hart!
Lust is HARD. Love is DEEP.
Ripped SEAL. Filthy mouth. Big… gun. What else does a woman need?
You want to play rough? Be careful what you wish for.
I made one big mistake that almost ruined my life -- I had the quarterback’s baby.
Afterword
Every so often, I like to put in some of my past novels for new readers to enjoy. Thank you all so much for supporting me. It’s been a dream to continue to write for all of you.
