Exception (Cambria University Series Book 1)

by Sadie T. Williams

  “Um, maybe,” she says and begins to cry. “I’m sorry, Brooks,” she wails and runs off the set.

  “Well, folks, I guess we should vet our stories a little better. Looking at you producers.” Simon glares past the cameras. “Brooks, Kiernan, thanks for calling in and clearing all this up. You two are something, I think! We’ll see you next week for the draft, buddy.” Simon finishes with “And Rhett, if you want to call in, Brooks has our number. Stay tuned for SportsCenter. I’m Mike Simon and I am outta here!”

  I hang up and breathe a sigh of relief just as my phone rings. “It’s Cameron again.”

  “Hello?”

  “That was fucking brilliant! You were charismatic, charming even. Funny. Kiernan’s part was perfect! The support of the girlfriend was huge! That could have gone all sideways with the current state of our country and the me too movement. Apparently you swayed the opinion of both men and women! Your draft stock is rising, my man. While you were talking, my phone, my Twitter and email started blowing up. You’re fucking trending! They all want you! And Kiernan, if she needs an agent, I’m all hers. After her analysis of the draft, I’ve been getting calls to get her on the sidelines as a reporter, or even in the booth!” Cameron rambles while barely breathing.

  “Okay, great, but I need to talk to my girl, Cameron. I’ll let her know. Later.” I hang up.

  “What did he say?” Bateman asks.

  “They loved it. I got my point across. Kiernan was spectacular. He was worried about the female demographic, but apparently they’re on my side. And he’s getting calls about you, babe,” I say to Kiernan.

  “Me? Why?” she asks, confused.

  “They think you have an elite football mind and they want you on TV,” I smile. “Maybe you could cover all of my games!”

  “Brooks, you’re fucking trending on Twitter,” Watts says with her face in shock. “Globally.”

  I laugh. “I guess honesty is the best policy.” I wink at Kiernan. “Can we talk about this now?”

  She nods. Blaire leans over and I hear her whisper, “Don’t fuck this up, KK. What else can he do? Get out of your own head.” I appreciate her more at this moment than ever.

  We walk back into Kiernan’s room. “I’m sorry,” I begin.

  “No, I’m sorry,” she cuts me off. “This is part of the deal. I knew that coming in, but every once in a while I go back to that bad mental place. You know, I think of my mom’s life and what your dad said. All the shit that happened to your mom too. I need to stop. This is ridiculous. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you. I never will. You may need to be patient with me when I get stuck in my own head, but I don’t want this to end, ever. I want you for all time.”

  “KK.” I breathe a sigh of relief. “I’ve been so terrified you were going to leave me again. Not just today, but for the past couple weeks. I’ve been trying since we met to figure out how you’re different and why I need you the way I do. How it’s possible I feel like I’ve known you for twenty years, but touching you creates a spark in me like it’s the first time. I finally figured it out. It isn’t something about you. It’s just you. All of you. Everything you are, everything we are together, and everything we will be. I love you.”

  I wrap my arms around her. How much more can our relationship endure?

  “Can I see your tattoo again?”

  “You mean your tattoo.” I smile as I lift up my shirt. She runs her tiny hand over the font inscribed on my ribs.

  “Will you come with me to Nashville?” I ask. Maybe I shouldn’t push too hard, but I want her, no, need her there.

  “The draft is for parents and close family, Brooks. I don’t think it would be right.”

  “You’re my family. You’re my home. My best friend. Please come,” I plead. “This is one of the biggest moments in my life, and it wouldn’t be right if I couldn’t share it with you. Plus, Cameron could introduce you to some of the ESPN people. Would you consider a career as a sideline reporter?” This. Why didn't I think of it? Cameron is a fucking genius. She would be such a great sideline reporter. I don’t want to push her because she has her heart set on sports psych, but my God, how perfect could this be?

  She looks up at me through her long lashes. “Okay. Yes, I’d love to.” She smiles.

  “Love to what?”

  “Love to be in Nashville. Love to cover your games. Love to be there with you, always.”

  She lifts my shirt the rest of the way over my head and we fall onto her bed. The hundredth time feels like the first time. I swear will never get sick of this feeling as I slide inside of her. For the next hour we are a pile of intertwined body parts, passion, sweat, and love.

  Chapter 26: Kiernan

  Nashville is fucking beautiful. The weather is perfect. A sunny 78 degrees with a slight breeze. Brooks McCarthy by my side and in my bed. There really isn’t a better place to spend my 21st birthday which happens to be tomorrow, April 23rd, and the first day of the draft.

  This week has been a blur, and I think Brooks may have forgotten about my birthday. It’s okay though – it’s been so busy. Brooks has been wined and dined. Cameron had so many meetings for him that we haven’t had two minutes alone. He’s been interviewed by every major media outlet, from ESPN to the NFL Network to iHeart Radio. After our phone call with Simon, Brooks’ public image went through the roof. As my dad always said, “women want him and men want to be him.”

  Nashville has two large stages set up on either side of the river, both blasting live music throughout the downtown area. The stages host a variety of artists from country to hip-hop, all day long during the draft. Dan & Shay opened one stage while Post Malone rocked the other side. Nissan Stadium is hosting the NFL Draft Experience, where children can do football drills on the field. The Lombardi trophy, or Super Bowl trophy, is available for pictures. There’ss also an area where current and former NFL players sit to sign autographs. There’s a schedule of who will be signing online, and only 100 people are allowed in during each round.

  We finally have some downtime, and we’re heading to Tootsie’s for the evening to hear some music and drink some beer. Brooks is acting a little weird, but I’m not reading too much into it. Draft nerves, I’m sure. This is our first time alone since we got here, but it’s soon interrupted when a group of Minnesota Vikings fans stops us on the street. Brooks has a baseball cap on, but since his face has been plastered everywhere in Nashville, it’s almost impossible to hide.

  “Martha! Oh, good Lord. It’s Brooks McCarthy! I can’t believe it,” a guy shouts to his wife and group of friends who are all decked out purple and gold.

  “Brooks, man, we sure hope the Pats don’t trade up,” another guy in the group says as he shakes Brooks’ hand. Someone obviously listened to my take on the Patriots, because it was all over ESPN all week. Brooks is smiling – he’s always so accommodating.

  “Gee, Brenda, isn’t he handsome,” Martha says to her friend.

  “Oh, you betcha, Martha, quite the handsome gentleman,” Brenda responds. I swear I’m in the movie Fargo listening to them talk.

  A small crowd has now gathered around us.

  “And look at her,” Martha nods toward me. I feel like I’m a wax statue as people gawk at me.

  “Hi,” I offer my hand, “I’m—“

  “Kiernan Kelly,” Brenda says. “Oh, we know, dear. We heard you on the TV. That wasn’t very nice what that girl tried to do to Brooks.”

  “You’re right about that ma’am.” I nod in agreement. “Not very nice at all.” These ladies seem sweet. I can see them back home in Minnesota making tater tot hotdish and knitting.

  “Well, we sure do hope you two kids make it. Seems like you’re a match made in heaven.” Martha gives my shoulder a squeeze.

  Brooks signs a few autographs and while I wait, a guy strolls over to me.

  “Can you sign this?” he asks and holds out a program for the draft.

  “Me?” I look around. I’ve never signed autographs befo
re. Maybe a few softball balls for little girls at the college world series, but never for a grown man.

  “Yeah, you’re gonna be on ESPN one day. Plus, I’m a huge Patriots fan. I grew up watching your dad play. I figure I may not get another shot to get your autograph.”

  “Um, sure.” I smile.

  “To Chuck, please.” He smiles back.

  To Chuck, Go Pats!

  Best, Kiernan Kelly

  “Holy shit! Thanks!” Chuck says as he rejoins his friends.

  That was my first autograph. It felt, I don’t know, weird, but amazing all at the same time. It’s a little surreal that someone knew my name. I don’t know how Brooks does this all the time.

  Tomorrow is the draft. Cameron is working overtime to raise Brooks’ stock, but all signs still point to Minnesota trading up, just like Rhett predicted.

  Rhett, Rhea, Brett and Bo are all here. Bateman and Blaire are here as well, because they’re our best friends and Brooks really wanted them to share in this moment. They’ve been keeping to themselves though since they know how busy Brooks has been with all this crap. Bateman decided not to declare so he can spend his senior year with Blaire.

  So far, we’ve steered clear of Rhett. He keeps apologizing, and while I do believe he’s sorry, I’m still mad at what he did to his wife, his sons, and to me. Brooks and I had a nice dinner with the boys and Rhea at Locklyn’s Roost, a swanky steakhouse just off Broadway. The peace ends tomorrow though. Rhett will be at the draft and sitting at our table. He hasn’t tried to pull another power trip on Brooks, but I still don’t trust the man.

  Chapter 26: Brooks

  Today is the draft. I can’t believe I’m here. I am so fucking nervous. Not for the draft. I know I’m getting drafted, but I don’t even care where. It is Kiernan’s 21st birthday, and the little box in my jacket pocket is burning a hole through my fabric. I’m wearing a perfectly tailored navy blue Armani suit with brown wingtip Cole Haan dress shoes and my hair is coiffed with my standard “trying but not trying” look – I feel good, minus the nauseous feeling from my stupid nerves.

  My palms are sweating and I don’t know if I’m going to make it until draft time. I hope Kiernan hasn’t noticed my hyperactive nerves, but if she has she hasn’t said anything. I’m trying to pass it off as draft day jitters. I also purposely haven’t wished her a happy birthday. I just need a little more time to make this a grand event for her milestone birthday, something we’ll remember for the rest of our lives.

  Kiernan is stunning. Heads are turning as we walk by. She’s wearing a white A-line dress with navy blue and pink flowers and a lime green belt, along with lime green sandals with a strap around her ankle and a small heel. Her milk chocolate and caramel hair is twisted into a waterfall braid with the ends curled and hanging down her back. She has a little mascara on her thick black lashes, which accentuates her black eyes. Her lips are perfectly pink with a hint of shimmer from some lip gloss, and her 22 earrings are sparkling from her ear lobes. It’s the most feminine I’ve ever seen her. She takes my breath away.

  I’ve been working with Cameron, ESPN, Roger Goodell, my family – Rhett included – and the event staff for weeks planning this. Kiernan has no idea. I think she still assumes Rhett hates her.

  Schermerhorn Symphony Center is a large open space with several large crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. The stage is set with a podium and a large screen that spans the length of the stage, with the NFL logo and “Draft 2020” projected on it. The screen will display highlights from the draftees’ collegiate careers. Roger Goodell, the NFL commissioner, will be introducing some draftees from the podium, along with special presenters like Brett Favre and Emmett Smith. Those are two more of my football heroes, besides John Kelly.

  Theater boxes run up the sides of each wall and there’s a balcony overlooking the main floor. Tables are set strategically around the floor for those of us who were invited to the draft. The NFL only invites those who will be going high in the first round. Each table seats eight and has a phone in the center. That phone will ring when I get the call saying I’ve been drafted. Cameras are scattered all over the room, and I know they’ll be focused on me until my phone rings. Everything is perfectly planned, except for which team will be calling and with which pick.

  Also in the room are DeMarcus Derion, Tobias Leonard and Zack Lake from LSU.

  “McCarthy! How’s the rib?” I hear Derion bellow. My God, this man is a massive human.

  “Hey, Derion, how are you? I’m good. Nothing a little time off couldn’t fix.”

  “This is fucking surreal, isn’t it, man?” he asks as he glances around the grand room.

  “Sure is,” I concur. “This is my girlfriend, Kiernan.”

  “Ah, so you’re the one who spotted my rush pattern.” He looks down at Kiernan.

  “Uh, yeah, I guess.” She looks up at me, almost embarrassed.

  “My agent told me about it. Not sure how he knew, but now I won’t be so predictable. I should thank you for upping my game.” He laughs a deep belly laugh. “Shit, man, hang onto this one. She knows more about football than most of my teammates.” He laughs again and slaps me on the back before he heads off to find his table. He hit me so hard I think he broke my rib again.

  “Brooks! Kiernan!” Cameron finds us next.

  “Aren’t you Mr. Popular,” Kiernan nudges me. I wrap my arm tighter around her waist and pull her closer to my side.

  “So, we’re right here.” He motions toward table four. “I’ll be here with you. So far, Minnesota is still looking to trade up. I haven’t heard anything else.” He looks to Kiernan. Hopefully he isn’t judging her assessment from Simon’s show. She isn’t a professional. It was just her best guess. Plus, I still need him to make sure my plan goes off without a hitch.

  Kiernan and I settle in at the table. Soon my family arrives. Cameron and his girlfriend are also at our table.

  “Hello, my dear.” Rhea leans over and kisses my cheek. She reaches across me and grabs Kiernan’s hand. “How are you, darlin’?”

  “I’m well, Rhea.” Kiernan smiles. She has no idea what’s about to happen.

  Rhea smiles at me. She’s excited, but she’s hiding it very well.

  Rhett plays up the asshole card. He doesn’t even acknowledge Kiernan. I’d be pissed if I didn’t know that he is faking it for my sake. He owes me big, and this is one step on the road to forgiveness for him.

  “KK, missed you!” Bo shouts and leans in to hug her.

  “Too long, bro,” I shove him away.

  Brett rolls his eyes. “I won’t even try. Nice to see you, KK.”

  “You guys too,” she says as she laughs at me.

  We have about 15 minutes before the draft starts. As of now, Rhett is going to be called up to present on behalf of the Minnesota Vikings if they trade up to get me. He’ll ask my family and Kiernan to go on stage with him. A little unusual, but shouldn’t raise any red flags. Once up there, he will announce that I’m the third overall pick and when I go up, I’ll pull out the box from my jacket pocket and propose to the love of my life on national television. She’ll hate it, but it’s my last grand gesture.

  I look over and Cameron is on his phone. He’s listening intently to whomever is on the other end. He must have gotten the final word.

  “I need you, outside, now,” he says with deep concern in his voice.

  Kiernan’s face pales. My family is staring at me with very apprehensive looks on their faces.

  “Rhett, you too.” He motions to my dad. Everyone glances around.

  “That’s gotta mean it’s Minnesota,” Kiernan squeaks with a smile as she leans into me. “I’m so happy for you!”

  “I love you, gorgeous,” I whisper before walking away with Cameron. He is freaking me the fuck out right now.

  As we enter the lobby, Cameron’s face turns from a scowl into a huge smile.

  “Dude, you even freaked me out!” I say and shove his shoulder.

  “Sa
me. What’s going on?” Rhett asked, still a bit concerned.

  “Bad news, Rhett. You’re not taking the stage,” Cameron continues to grin.

  My dad and I shot each other a look.

  “Cameron, we had this all planned,” I say with panic creeping into my voice.

  “Brooks, John Kelly is going to be on the stage. He’s going to call Kiernan up with him,” Cameron continues, still beaming.

  “He’s not here,” I reply and glance over at Rhett, who has his eyebrows furrowed in concern.

  “You’re right, he wasn’t. Until Robert Kraft invited him and flew him and Monica down here this afternoon.”

  “Robert Kraft. The owner of the New England Patriots, Robert Kraft?” I ask, completely perplexed.

  “One and the same.” Cameron is downright giddy now. “When they called last night, I told them what we had planned and Robert called John ASAP.”

  “So that means…” I pause for a second to gather my thoughts. There’s too much going on right now.

  “He’s going number one,” my dad whispers. “He’s going fucking number one!” he shouts when the realization hits him.

  “Shh!” Cameron tries to calm him down.

  “Holy fucking shit, Brooks. You did it, my son.” Rhett beams.

  “We did it, Dad.” I smile. Rhett is still dealing with his own shit, but he’s been super supportive of my whole proposal idea. In fact, he coordinated with Goodell for me. We’re not all the way there, but we’re working on it.

  “So, John will be introduced as the guest presenter. He’ll invite his daughter up to the stage and the rest will be the same,” Cameron confirms.

  “I’ll find a way to give Kiernan my blessing another time,” Rhett says with some sadness in his voice.

  “I’m sorry, Dad. I know this was going to be your grand apology to her.”

  “It’s okay. This is better. Her dad should be here.”

  “Okay, we gotta get back in there,” Cameron says. “Don’t look too happy when we go back in.”