Forgiving the Football Player

by Emma St Clair

  “I couldn’t stay. I had to leave.”

  “I know that you think that. I get it, man. I do.”

  No, he didn’t. Elton knew loss and grief. Maybe he knew guilt as well. But nothing like the responsibility of taking away the ability to walk from the woman you love. Forever. Pax did that. So, Elton couldn’t sit there acting like he understood.

  “I had to go. I didn’t—I don’t—deserve her. She needs someone better. Not a reminder of the jerk who did this to her.”

  “You thought you were freeing her. But it was the coward’s way out. It was your way of punishing yourself. But when you climbed up there on the whipping block, you dragged Cilla right along with you to take the same beatings. You didn’t just punish yourself, man.”

  Pax wanted to rage. He needed to put his fists through a wall or take someone to the turf. His blood felt molten and his vision had grown hazy.

  As though sensing the threat, Elton stood and moved a few steps away from the table.

  “Her father told me to leave,” Pax ground out. “That night in the hospital. He told me I should go. It wasn’t anything I didn’t already know. Just confirmation.”

  Elton’s eyes went wide. But before he could respond, the screen door slammed, startling them both. Sy strode into the kitchen, giving Pax a moment to collect himself.

  As though the tension in the room didn’t exist, Elton smiled and spun to face Sy, clutching his chest.

  “Well, I’ll be! Look what the cat drug in!”

  “Hey, El.”

  Elton wrapped Sy in a big hug, whooping a loud greeting. “Hello? Is that all? How about a drink? Food? Pull up a chair. Make yourself at home.”

  Paxton stood. He had to go before his head—or his temper—exploded.

  “I’ve got to run. See y’all later. Want these peas back in the freezer?”

  “Good idea. With both of y’all home, who knows the next time we’ll need ’em.” Elton winked.

  “Too soon,” Pax growled, storming out the back door.

  Elton wasn’t wrong though. Not about the peas or what he said about Cilla. That was the problem.

  Chapter Six

  He considered going home, especially since the news had already gotten out that he was back in Katy. His mom might be too out of it to know, but Jazz would. Even if she didn’t want to see Pax. But the thought of seeing them after the conversation he’d had with Elton this morning and Easton the night before—it was too much.

  For now, he was going to start on the community service. He had to stop back by the twins’ house, which was mercilessly empty, and get his phone. He touched base with Lawrence via text about stopping by Wheels Up. Lawrence said he’d let Anita, the executive director, know he was on the way.

  Might as well dive right in. A distraction couldn’t hurt.

  Though he founded it, Pax had never actually seen the building in person. He had taken hands-off to a new level with the charity, which he had dumped money into and then let someone else completely manage. The office was in a strip shopping center, next to a coffee shop and a children’s hair salon.

  A woman he guessed to be Anita waited for him out front, pacing in a pair of stilettos and a cream-colored suit. Pax didn’t know what he’d expected, but not the complete corporate uniform. She looked a little too stiff, too polished. But maybe he was judging too hard at first glance. Things had been going well with Wheels Up, so Anita was clearly competent.

  When she saw him step out of the truck, she smiled, and Pax’s unease kicked up ten levels. He recognized the look on her face, which was the look of a woman who wanted him but was trying to play it cool. Just what he needed.

  Her eyes scanned over the injuries on his face, which reminded him of how terrible he looked. If he could have waited to come in, he would have. But he didn’t have the luxury of waiting until the bruises faded. Any public event or photo op would clearly show them off.

  “Paxton Shaw! I’m so glad that you could be here. It’s such an honor to have you and I know everyone inside feels the same. I’m Anita Beachwood.”

  When she took his hand, he wanted to drop it as soon as possible, but her fingertips lingered. Not quite long enough to be inappropriate, but just enough to give him a hint. And to make him want to run back to the car. Instead, he followed her inside.

  Pax was used to dealing with overeager fans. Whether attracted to him or his money or fame, he never knew and didn’t much care. There had been no one since Cilla.

  Maybe ten or twenty years down the road, he might change his mind, but for now, he couldn’t imagine loving another woman. Ever. And since Cilla was out of the question, Pax just thought of himself as celibate. Not that he talked about it in interviews or anything, which he would never hear the end of, but he simply didn’t date or think about dating. It was a non-issue.

  Except when it came to women who made it one. And everything in him told him that Anita was one of those people, even as she played it cool. She touched his arm lightly as she led him into the office, but then let him go as they moved into the reception area.

  “This is our administrative assistant, Becca.”

  She wheeled out from behind her desk to shake Pax’s hand. There was nothing but excitement in her smile. “Great to meet you. I’m a huge fan.”

  Pax shouldn’t have been surprised that the charity had staff members in wheelchairs, but he simply hadn’t thought about it. That’s how it should be. Except…

  He swallowed. Elton said Cilla would be racing Saturday at the charity event. But surely Cilla wouldn’t work here.

  Pax had to swallow down panic. Because of course this was the kind of place that Cilla would work. He didn’t know if she would know of his connection to it, and if that would deter her or make her want to be here more. He realized that Becca had asked him a question.

  “I’m sorry—I missed your question.”

  She laughed. “No problem. I just asked if you were feeling more optimistic about the games coming up after your big win the other night?”

  Pax grinned. Female fans who wanted to talk football rather than hit on him? He could do those conversations. Until Anita got impatient, Pax talked to Becca about the team and answered some stats questions.

  When Anita cleared her throat for the third time, Pax promised to sign something for Becca before he left. He followed Anita past reception to a short hallway with a few offices.

  Tugging his arm, Anita pulled Pax to a stop. She really needed to stop touching him. “I’m sorry. I warned everyone not to overwhelm you with requests like that. I’ll talk to Becca later.”

  “No need,” Pax said. “I’m happy talking to fans about the team.” He put an emphasis on “team,” hoping Anita would get the hint. “I want to show my appreciation as well for the staff and what you all do. It’s fine. I’d prefer if you didn’t talk to her about it. If you don’t mind.”

  Pursing her lips, she nodded. “This is my office,” she said, opening the door. Pax planted his feet and crossed his arms, making it clear that he wouldn’t be walking into her office.

  With a flicker of irritation, Anita closed the door again and led him further back, to a large, main room that hummed with conversation and low instrumental music. Conference tables stood in the center of the space and cubicles lined the walls. Pax scanned every room for Cilla. So far, so good.

  A few people looked up and smiled, but most were hard at work, talking on phones or tapping away at computers. There were a few other people in wheelchairs throughout the room, but no Cilla.

  His shoulders relaxed, releasing the tension that had been growing since he walked through the doors.

  “This is our main office area. We feel like the open concept helps energize the team and keeps the ideas flowing. It also helps with accessibility.”

  Pax nodded, wondering what she wanted him to say. Clearly something, as she was still staring at him. “Looks good.”

  “This is perfect timing, really, as we have our big event this we
ekend. You know about the event, right?”

  “Yep.”

  “Great. I thought what would work best is to have you work alongside the coordinator for the final marketing push and then, of course, on Saturday for the event itself. Fans will love it. And here comes our coordinator now. She’s done a fantastic job with all the details of the event …”

  Pax knew before her still-perfect face came into view and ripped his heart right out of his chest. He knew that it would be Cilla in that way you knew a teacher was going to call on you in class when you hadn’t done the reading. His body knew it in the way the tiny hairs on the back of his neck rose to attention and the breath left his body.

  Cilla. As beautiful and full of life as she had been six years ago. And still with the same grip on his heart as she had then.

  She wheeled over to him, her arms a beautiful flurry of motion that had him transfixed. Many times, he had tried to imagine her confined to a wheelchair. The image always came with a heavy sheath of guilt. But this Cilla? She was as vibrant as she ever was. As strong. Powerful. Beautiful.

  “Pax, this is Priscilla.” Anita’s voice was the only thing that stopped him from staring.

  “Oh, we go way back,” Cilla said, teasing in her voice.

  Of all the reactions Pax had imagined if they ever saw each other again, the beaming and beautiful smile she gave him hadn’t even crossed his mind. That same smile that had owned his heart for half his life, the one that had the power to end him. Even now.

  She smiled like she wasn’t sitting in what he could tell was a top-of-the-line wheelchair. She smiled like he hadn’t been the one to put her there.

  Words couldn’t reach his mouth, which he knew hung open. He couldn’t even get control enough of his body to close his lips. And then he didn’t have time to think because she reached him, letting go of the wheels to throw her arms wide open.

  “Pax!” she squealed as her chair barreled toward him.

  He had no choice but to bend down and open his arms to her. The footrest made contact with his shin, then the chair bounced back. He winced, even as Cilla threw her arms around his neck. The chair rolled away, leaving Pax supporting her full weight.

  She giggled, her hands clinging to him as she shifted in his arms. “I think I lost my chair.”

  Her voice was as melodic as he remembered it. She spoke without any hint of malice, as though they were just friends from high school who ran into each other. Not like they had so much between them. But Pax could feel everything as he hugged her, the weight of the pain and the years and the memories—good and bad—thickening his blood and slowing his heart rate. She smelled and felt like home, the only one he’d ever known.

  She still smelled like magnolias. He didn’t normally know flowers, but there was a tree outside his house he loved. Cilla had bought a perfume that smelled like the flowers after he mentioned once how much he liked them. Did she still wear it?

  Pax tried to keep his hands on her back from trembling. It would have been easier to deal with her anger. That’s what he deserved. Not a smile and an embrace.

  He realized how awkward the embrace was and how uncomfortable it must be for her, hanging from his neck, legs dragging the ground. Clutching her more tightly, Pax stood up straight. Her hands felt familiar around his neck. Without even thinking, his palms went under her thighs until he stood there, holding her just as he had so many times before, her legs on either side of his hips, her hands clasped behind his neck.

  Only now, everything else was different.

  Back in the day, she often launched herself at him for a full-body hug like this, kissing his neck or chest. Back then, her legs would have tightened around his waist, not dangled from his grip as they did now. He could feel how thin they were, the softness from muscle atrophy, even through the worn denim of her jeans.

  His eyes closed, and his breathing hitched as he was suddenly standing beside the track, shouting for her while her feet pounded the track and then she lifted gracefully over one hurdle, then another and another, the movement of her body smooth like water flowing over the hurdles and coming back down.

  Her legs used to have a noticeable curve of muscle that she always felt self-conscious about. She would gripe about how her thighs touched and her jeans were too tight in the legs of the popular skinny jeans. He had rolled his eyes more than once at her complaints in front of a dressing room mirror when she had dragged him to the mall.

  More than once he had told her how much he loved her legs in shorts. The way every step, every shift, every slight movement made her muscles bunch and contract. They were powerful, amazing, beautiful.

  The moment stretched out, and Pax realized they were making a scene. She spoke, her voice low. “Hope the other guy looks worse. Though I heard it from a good authority that you threw the fight, so he probably doesn’t.”

  Cilla’s words, whispered into his neck, started him back to the present with a painful jolt. Suddenly, last night’s phone call to Elton made a lot more sense. Cilla had been the one yelling at him about the fight.

  Anita cleared her throat and Pax stiffened, realizing that he was holding Cilla in what looked like a romantic embrace, right in the middle of the office. Glancing around, he caught sight of a few people sheepishly putting away their phones.

  What would Lawrence have to say about this? The last thing he needed was to endure another yelling phone call.

  Cilla giggled. “You should probably put me down now, Pax, or people will begin to get ideas. You know how they like to talk.”

  Anita gave Pax a tight smile as she angled the wheelchair back within reach. Pax settled Cilla gently back in her chair and stepped back, shoving his hands in his pockets.

  Using her hands, Cilla lifted and adjusted her legs in place. Watching her do it filled him with an admiration for her strength that matched the regret that threatened to choke him.

  Pax couldn’t see a trace of the brokenness that Elton warned him about. He searched for cracks in the facade. But her wall—and he knew walls well enough to see that it was a wall—was thick and heavily fortified. It could fool most people. But Pax had once known her heart as well as his own. She couldn’t fool him. Though she probably wasn’t trying. Everything she had done or said just now felt more like an attack, one meant to make Pax uncomfortable. He knew she wasn’t really happy to see him. Whatever this greeting was about, it was not genuine. She was trying to throw him off his game. Push him away before he got too close.

  Oh, yes—he could still read her.

  Anita looked between them, trying to smile. “Well, this really is perfect. I’d heard you two went to the same high school, but I wasn’t really sure if you knew each other. I’m glad to see you’ll work well together.” Anita’s eyes didn’t match her words. He wondered if Cilla, like Becca, would be getting a lecture later about appropriate workplace conduct.

  “Oh, I’m sure we will,” Cilla said, winking at Pax. His cheeks burned.

  “Cilla’s in charge of our big event this week, the Wheels Up Winter Games. It will be the perfect place to have you help, Pax. Cilla can let you know what she needs this week. Friday night is the benefit dinner and Saturday are the games themselves. Having you there will be an incredible boost to our visibility. I already talked with Lawrence. He called this morning.”

  Pax almost swallowed his tongue. He would be working directly with Cilla all week. His mind was already turning over ideas of how he could get out of this. “I’m not sure that the event is the right fit for me, actually. I thought I might just, uh, answer phones. Make copies. Something like that.”

  Laughing, Anita touched Pax’s arm, letting her fingers linger a little longer than he would have liked. He thought he caught Cilla’s eyes darting there, but when he glanced at her, she was looking at Anita.

  “Oh no,” Anita said. “The best use of your time to help the facility is definitely more up-front work. Anyone can make a copy. Not anyone could be Pax Shaw.”

  The last part
of her words had a more throaty tone and Pax felt the heat of embarrassment radiating from his chest. It was one thing to have Anita get handsy or flirty, but for her to do it in front of Cilla? Maybe she didn’t notice. But he saw a quick flash of something like jealousy on Cilla’s face before she rolled over and grabbed Pax’s hand. He stared down at their joined fingers, the feel and the sight filling him with an aching sense of loss. She tugged him toward the back of the office.

  “Which means I better get him to work right away,” Cilla said in a voice that was too sickly sweet. “Thanks so much, Anita.”

  Anita looked furious at the dismissal but tried to cover. If Cilla wasn’t careful, she’d be looking for another job soon. Pax felt like he had walked into a field of landmines and didn’t know how to extricate himself. Anita was on one side, trying to keep a professional distance while encroaching on something much more personal. Cilla, pretending to be close while pushing him away.

  His head spun.

  Forcing a smile that was clearly fake, Anita glanced at the two of them. “You guys better run off and—” Anita trailed off. Pax wouldn’t have noticed that she said “run off” to someone in a wheelchair if she hadn’t stopped. That actually drew attention to the phrase, making it worse. Pax glared. He had been here less than twenty minutes and wanted to fire this woman.

  Anita’s hand went to her mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

  “It’s okay,” Cilla said. She laughed and tossed her hair, sending the magnolia smell wafting in the air again. “I’m used to being the legs—I mean the butt—of jokes.”

  Anita forced a laugh and Pax closed his eyes. How often did Cilla find herself having to explain or make light of some thoughtless comment?

  Careless or not, Anita had been rude and thoughtless. Especially for someone working with this kind of organization. Everything about her behavior since he walked through the door felt off. After the way Cilla spoke to her and clung to him, Pax wouldn’t be surprised if her “run off” comment hadn’t been intentional, fueled by jealousy. He bristled and managed to bite back the remark he wanted to make. Pax began thinking of ways to replace her with someone else. He had gotten a board to oversee decisions, but if he had a strong opinion, they would certainly defer to him.