Grid Iron Bad Boy: A Football Romance (4 page)

I
look at my hands
. The fingers that will never have the tiny hand of a newborn wrapped around them. The hands that will never put Band-Aids on my child’s ouchies or keep my kid safe as I walk them to Kindergarten. Fresh tears drip off my chin to the grass below. I feel like such a fool, crying like this in front of Cameron. I can’t even look at him. It’s too embarrassing. Yet, I can’t stop. It’s like all the grief I’ve never let out is breaking through the dam I built up inside me.

I’ve known for years that I can’t have children of my own. I told myself it was OK. More than OK, really. I had my nephew to help look after and I went back to school for my teaching degree. And, you know what? For a while that worked. It was enough for me to help class after class of second graders learn and grow. It was enough to be “the world’s best aunt”. And I told myself I was enough, too.

“Hey, don’t cry.” Cameron gently rocks me, his arm wrapped around me and his hand soothingly running over my hair.

“I’m s-sorry,” I sputter. Jeez, I sound like a kid myself. If I don’t get this under control soon, I’ll get hiccups like I used to when I was a child.

“Don’t be. Tonight has been intense, I get it,” his voice wraps around me like a blanket on a cold winter morning. I close my eyes and lean my head against him, even if I’ve ruined everything, and I’m sure I have, I want to remember what it feels like to be held in Cameron’s arms. To see the side of him I wasn’t sure existed; his compassion. I can almost imagine what it must feel like to be loved by him.

“Tonight was just overwhelming; the way Honor was born. I wasn’t sure if she would make it. I was so scared,” I admit.

“Yeah, but you handled it like a pro. Your sister was lucky to have you with her. A lot of people would’ve panicked.” He murmurs, running the palm of his hand flat over my hair.

“I did panic,” I whisper. “I was so scared.”

“That’s how I know you’re one tough chick though. Ugh, sorry, lady.” He looks down at me and I can’t help but smile.

“Tough chick is fine,” the smirk grows on my face.

“Good, cause you are a tough chick. Brave too. Being brave isn’t about not being scared, trust me. You know I went to Afghanistan with Mack. You think we weren’t scared? We were scared shitless when we came under attack. Being brave is when you’re so scared you wanna piss your pants, but still doing what needs to be done,” his voice trails off as he’s drawn back into another place. Another time. A battle I’ve watched Mack struggle with for years. A war that is impossible to leave behind. “You should be proud of yourself,” his eyes snap back into focus and he looks into my eyes.

“Well, thanks. But, it’s not like you guys. I mean, you’re a hero. I just called 9-1-1.” I look down at my feet. I don’t deserve to be in the same league as them. It’s nice of him to say, but not true.

“Don’t downplay what you did. At least when shit got real, you reacted. You know what I did when a grenade was lobbed at my feet? I stared at it and wondered what I should do. I spent the little time I had to act wondering if I should run, kick it, throw it, duck. I just stared. It was Mack that got his leg blown off actually doing something about it.” Cameron’s eyebrows scrunch together as his deep blue eyes cloud over.

“You were still brave,” I insist. “You still joined up, you still went over there. Lauren and Mack told me you turned down a full scholarship playing football because you wanted to serve our country. That’s amazing.” I reach up to my shoulder and give the hand he’s stopped running over my hair a little squeeze.

“No,” his eyes flicker and he turns his face away.

“What do you mean?”

“I didn’t join because I’m brave. I joined because I was a coward. I couldn’t chase my real dream of playing football,” he sweeps his hand over the empty stadium, “because I didn’t want to let my father down. He did over thirty years and retired as a General. All he wanted for me and my brother was for us to carry on the tradition. So we did.”

I don’t know what to say. The silence in the stadium is like a black hole, sucking in Cameron’s words, his emotions, his soul.

“I guess we’re a good match, huh? We’ve both got shit to deal with.” I give him a little nudge and try to lighten the mood a little.

“Well, in your case, you’ll have less shit to deal with,” Cameron smiles, shaking off the burden of his confession. “I mean, did you really want to spend years of your life cleaning up shitty diapers?”

“Well, no, but that’s not the part you think about when you imagine having a baby,” I protest.

“No? Let me guess, you picture the little monsters cooing and babbling and saying they love you?”

“Well, yeah. Exactly.” I feel my emotions threatening to spill over again.

“Yeah, but you don’t think about the diapers, the projectile puking, the crap kids do to your house. No one thinks about how they never get to sleep in again or how they’ve got to talk to other annoying parents all the time or how their little angels eventually turn into walking hormones who hate them and total the family car.” Cameron’s eyes glint as he rattles off the laundry list.

“Well, there’s a lot of other stuff too. I mean, it doesn’t matter anyway, but kids are pretty adorable.”

“Nah, that’s just what all those Pampers commercials want you to think so they can sell you more stuff. It’s a racket. Those little ankle biters just eat up your time, your freedom, your money until you’re just a shell. And let me tell you, that would be a true tragedy,” he stops and looks at me, running his thumb down my cheek. Blood whooshes in my ears as my heartbeat thuds in overtime.

“Is that so,” I murmur. I don’t mean to stare at his lips. I try to push the idea of our tongues colliding from my mind. My breaths are short and jagged as I will my eyes to look somewhere else. Anywhere else. It turns out, I don’t have great control over my senses right now.

“What do you say I take you home?” Cameron murmurs.

“Home?” My voice betrays my disappointment.

“Yeah, cause if we stay here, with you looking at me like that and being so damned sexy, I can’t make any promises that I can keep being a gentleman.” His voice is strained, like it’s painful for him to hold back.

I want him so much.

In a fraction of a second, my mind gives me the scene my body is crying for. I imagine us tangled up in each other on the field. Cameron’s lips on my body as I cry to the stars. My pulse quickens and I squeeze my thighs together as my pussy aches for his touch.

If I stay here, if I let Cameron do all the filthy and fucking amazing things I can imagine, I’ll just be another girl who he gets off with and never sees again. That’s just not me. It never has been. As much as my body aches for him, as much as I need to feel his skin pressed against mine, I can’t. I would drown in regret that I was just another notch on his belt, while he would move on to a hundred other girls waiting for him to give them a chance.

“Ok,” I finally answer. “Let’s go.”

Cameron’s eyebrows rise with surprise, but he doesn’t argue. I’m sure he’s never been turned down before and part of me is begging me to change my mind.

“Sure thing,” he stands up and holds his hand out to me, “let’s get you home.”

I grasp his hand and let him help me to my feet. Great.

Home.

They say home is where the heart is, but I know that’s a damned lie. My heart is not in my empty townhouse, it’s here, under the stars with Cameron. Just sitting with him, feeling the heat of his skin against mine, breathing him in. My heart may have finally found its true home.

I
rap
my knuckles against the cool metal doorframe around Lauren’s open door. Mack and Lauren both look up at me with surprise that melts into welcoming smiles.

“Hey, man! Come on in,” Mack waves me over.

I cross the floor and hand the pink bouquet of lilies and roses to the new Mama. “These are for you. Congratulations on your little girl.”

Lauren’s eyes dance over the flowers and she leans toward them and breathes their scent deep into her lungs. “Thank you, that’s so thoughtful,” she grins up at me.

“And this,” I wave a small plush teddy bear in my hand, “is for the little one.” I hand it over to Mack and peer into the bassinet at the foot of Lauren’s bed. Inside, their baby is sleeping peacefully. No doubt exhausted from all she’s been through is the past twenty-four hours. “I think it’s safe to say she needs to grow a bit before she’ll have much use for it though,” I marvel at her tiny features. Honor isn’t much bigger than the bear I bought her.

“Give it a month or so, it’s amazing how quickly they grow in the first year,” Lauren answers softly as she gazes down at her baby with pure love.

“That’s really nice of you, man. I appreciate you doing this,” Mack puts the teddy bear on the window sill next to Lauren’s bed.

“Hey, no problem.” I check the clock mounted on the wall. Visiting hours have only just started. “Are you, uh, expecting the rest of the family to stop by soon?” I try to ask casually, but from the way Mack arches his eyebrows at me, I know I’ve set off his alarm.

“Not for a couple hours,” he answers cautiously. “Why?”

“Oh, no reason. I was just hoping I’d see Chelsea,” I shrug. I thought if she didn’t have any plans this weekend, maybe… “

Mack quickly grabs me by the elbow and starts walking me toward the door. He calls over his shoulder to his wife as we head out of the room, “Cameron and I are gonna go grab some coffee, all right?”

“Sure thing,” she smiles dreamily, her eyes still locked on her baby.

As soon as we clear the room, Mack drops his vice grip on my elbow and I search his face for an explanation. “What’s up, man? What’s going on?”

He purses his lips together and narrows his gaze, zeroing in on my eyes. “Let’s take a walk, Cameron. We need to chat,” he snaps his head to the side in a sharp nod, showing me which way to go.

“Uh, sure.” I look at my feet. Why do I feel like my old Army Captain is about to tear a strip off me?

We walk in silence, except for the noise of our shoes against the polished hospital floor. I keep expecting Mack to speak his mind, but as the seconds slip by I start to wonder if he’s just escorting me to the exit.

“Listen,” he finally interrupts the quiet, “I really appreciate that you got me here last night and that you came by today with the flowers and everything. I couldn’t ask for a better friend, OK? You know you’re like a brother to me, right?”

“Uh, yeah,” I rub my hand over the back of my neck and wait for Mack to start making some sense. I know he didn’t ask me to chat with him because he wanted to talk about how awesome I am. “What’s this about, man?”

“I need you to stay away from Chelsea.” He stops dead in his tracks and levels me with his stare.

“Wait, what?” For once, I don’t know what to say.

“You heard me man. And I’m dead serious too. You’re a great friend, my best friend, but you’re a shitty boyfriend.” He starts walking slowly down the hall again and I follow him.

“Mack, I think you’re overstepping here, man. Chelsea isn’t a kid. She’s a grown woman who can make up her own mind about me. Right?” I smile at him, expecting him to say he’s just chucking shit at me, but the smile slides off my face when it’s met with his clenched jaw.

“No. I mean, yes, of course she’s a grown woman. Yes, she can make her own decisions, but no, you’re not going to be one of them. I know you, Cameron. I know how you throw these chicks away when you’re done with them. That’s fine for those girls, out there,” he waves his hand vaguely at invisible one night stands. “But that’s not even close to being OK for my sister-in-law. She’s a good woman, not one of your party girls. You know I think the world of you, man. The world. But, Chelsea and you can’t happen. She deserves someone who will treat her right, got it?”

I don’t know what to say. Anger rolls in my gut but my heart wrenches like it’s being twisted in an angry fist. Who does Mack think he is? Telling me who I can date! I want to be angry. Fucking pissed. However, the truth of his words punch me in the face like a fistful of nickels.

“Mack, I didn’t come here to upset you. Not at all. I don’t want this to be a thing between us man. I don’t think you should be telling me how to live my life either though.” I feel like a kid trying to sound out the hard words in his homework. Like I’m not sure how this sentence is supposed to come out.

“I’m not telling you what to do, exactly. How about we just drop this? We can let this entire conversation just be water under the bridge. Sound good?” He smiles at me.

“That sounds great,” I feel relief wash over me. I can’t blame Mack for giving me a hard time; he’s had a rough day. His papa bear is probably in overdrive right now.

“As long as you stay away from Chelsea,” he demands.

“You’re serious?”

“As a fucking heart attack, man.”

I glance at Mack. A guy I’ve known since high school. My old Army Captain. My best friend. I know he’s a great guy, and that he’s trying to do right by his family. It’s hard to argue with my track record. I can’t just say I think things will be different with Chelsea, because what if they aren’t? Do I really want to fuck up everything with Mack and his family if I’m wrong?

No.

“Fine, Mack,” I sigh. “I’ll back off,” I raise my hands in surrender.

“Good man!” A smile spills over Mack’s face and his eyes immediately brighten.

I smile back, but it’s fake. I know in my heart I’m making promises I can’t keep.

“
C
ome with us
,” Lauren insists again, her eyes wide and her mouth twisted to the side in a silly smile for her beautiful daughter sitting in her lap. Honor giggles at her mama, her chubby hand reaching out and squeezing Lauren’s nose. “It’s Cameron’s season opener and this is his senior year! It’s gonna be an awesome day for it and the weather is supposed to be beautiful too,” she tries to sell me on joining them.

I watch them and push down the twinge of jealousy I can feel creeping up from my gut. Staring down at the one sip left in my coffee cup, I redirect my emotions. It isn’t my sister’s fault she has the life I’ve only ever dreamed about. She’s never flaunted it or rubbed my nose in it.

When she had Chris, I never felt much envy. I guess it was because she was young and struggling to make sense of her life with a newborn son and college. It wasn’t hard to feel more pity for her than I felt for myself.

My eyes trail back up from the dining room table to Honor, her mocha, round cheeks are filled out as she smiles at her mom. Now I’m thirty-two and what they say about a biological clock is no lie. The child I can never have haunts my dreams, leaving my pillowcase full of tears and my heart ripped bare in the mornings. Bare. Empty. Just like me. Like the barren womb I’ll never be able to fill with a beautiful son or daughter.

It was easy to ignore the teensy twinge of jealousy I had back when my sister gave birth to her son. Now though, as I watch Lauren give her daughter exaggerated kisses as she squeals with delight, there’s no truer testament to my love for my sister than how I push the envy that rises like burning bile in the back of my throat, back down under lock and key.

“I just don’t want to go,” I finally answer her, my eyes dropping back down to the almost empty coffee cup. I lift it to my lips and throw back the last mouthful of black coffee just to give me something else to focus on.

“Oh, come on,” Lauren prods, “you love football more than anyone I know. Our seats are amazing and we’ve got an extra ticket.” Lauren moves her own coffee cup further across the wood table so Honor’s grabby hands can’t reach it.

“I know; I’m just not feeling it. It sounds like a perfect family day for you guys though,” I insist.

“You are family!” She bounces Honor on her knee. “What else are you gonna do? Stay home and do what? Probably watch football on TV, right?” She teases me.

She’s got me there.

“Hey, is this because of Cameron?” Her eyes narrow as they sweep my face. “Did something happen? I thought you’d be happy to have a chance to go see him play.”

“Cameron,” my squeaking voice betrays me, I clear my throat. “No, nothing like that,” I lie.

The truth is, it isn’t only my inability to have my own kids that makes Honor hard to watch sometimes. She’s ten months old now and looking less like a baby and more like a toddler every day. Less like the baby that was born the night Cameron and I stayed out under the stars and unburdened our souls to each other. Every month older that my beautiful niece ages is another month that he never called me. That he never texted me. That he probably never even thought about me again. It’s another month that slips by into oblivion after a night… and a kiss, that I’ll never forget.

My eyes lock with Lauren’s. She’s watching me closely. Her eyebrows are furrowed with concern. The last thing I want to do is worry her. She has enough on her plate without me weighing on her mind too.

“Hey, hey! What’s going on?” Chris bursts into the dining room with the energy of a stampede.

Honor smiles at her big brother and reaches out for him.

“Not much. I’m gonna get dinner started soon,” Lauren answers him. “Can you take your sister?” She holds out Honor, who wiggles excitedly to be held by Chris.

“For sure,” he gently tucks her up against his side. “What’s new with my favorite aunt?” Chris nods at me.

“I’m just trying to convince Chelsea to come to the game with us tomorrow,” Lauren looks over at me expectantly.

“You’re gonna come right?” Chris looks down at me. “You gotta go. I’ll look like the crazy one if you’re not there cheering with me. Come on,” he pleads.

How am I supposed to say no to that?

“OK,” I sigh. I pick our empty mugs off the table and walk them over to Lauren’s sink. “I’ll go.” I rinse the mugs out and place them in her drying rack.

“Alright!” Chris yells.

I turn and can’t help but smile at his excitement. I’m not going to let my hurt feelings stop me from doing what I love with my family. Besides, it’s not like I’m really going to see Cameron anyway. I mean, I’ll see him on the field, but that’s no big deal.

No big deal.

Right?