Tackling Her Heart (14 page)

He’d been an idiot.

There was also her
reaction. She’d enjoyed what he’d done to her, yet in her current
mental state, she more than likely couldn’t process it. She didn’t
trust him enough to talk it out, and that was
his
fault, again.

Running after her now was pointless.
He’d hurt her terribly, and she needed time to think and process
what had happened, without him possibly saying or doing the wrong
thing and only making it worse. They’d not been together long
enough, nor had he given her ample reason, to make him redeemable
in her eyes. Sofia might not ever get over what he’d done. Once she
was out of sight, he pulled himself up to the deck and lay across
the smooth wooden planks. The cooling night air ran over his body,
and he stared up at the stars above, wondering why things had
happened the way they had.

The longer he lay there, the more he
missed Sofia.

Mumbling under his breath, he got up
and went to find his cell phone. He punched up Max’s number and
quickly dialed it.

After a few rings, he heard a groggy,
“hello?”

Marc hadn’t considered the time
change. There he went being a dick again. “Have you heard anything
from the commissioner?”

“
Marc? Do you have any
idea what time it is?”

“
Not really,” Marc
answered, feeling even worse.

“
It’s two a.m. When it’s a
decent hour, I’ll call you and we’ll talk, okay?”

“
Yeah, fine,” he
said.

“
Goodnight,” Max said and
clicked off the phone.

Marc stared at his phone, wanting to
talk to someone. Anyone.

No, that wasn’t true either. There was
only one person he wanted to talk to right now, but he couldn’t.
Apologies churned in his head, but he couldn’t voice them. Not yet.
He needed time as well to understand the emotional response he’d
had to her.

He tossed the phone on the nightstand
and lay on the bed, feeling lost and alone for the first time in a
long, long while.

* * * *

Three days later, Marc lay in the
middle of that same bed, smelling the pillow Sofia had rested her
head on. There was no doubt in his mind that he had gone off the
deep end. Sofia’s abandoned robe still hung on the back of the
bathroom door. It still smelled of her, too. She’d left behind a
book she’d been reading, and each time he glanced at it, he thought
of her.

He’d worked out, ate, and slept since
she’d gone, but it had just been him going through the motions. He
wanted her back, but knew he’d destroyed what little they’d
shared.

His phone rang, and he grabbed it
quickly, hoping it was Sofia.

It was Max.

“
Hello?”

“
Hey, buddy, I got you a
meeting with the commissioner. It took a lot of salesmanship, but I
think he’s finally willing to listen.”

“
That’s great,” Marc said,
not feeling as excited as he probably should.

“
You don’t sound
impressed, Marc. I busted my ass for this, so get packed and back
to New York ASAP. The meeting is tomorrow afternoon, so you need to
get your ass in gear.”

“
You got it,” Marc
answered, his heart suddenly not in the game.

He hung up and tossed the phone to the
side of him before he rose from the bed and started gathering his
belongings. Marc stopped, realizing he needed a shower and a shave.
He walked into the bathroom and stared at himself in the mirror. He
looked like shit, which was perfect because he felt like shit.
Three days of beard growth and dark circles under his eyes weren’t
a good look for a meeting with the commissioner. Marc fished out
his razor and shaving cream, the movements rote.

When he looked back into
the mirror, he realized a part of him was lost. After she’d left,
he’d sort of shut down. Now he
was
The Iceman, completely numb.

He spread the cream over his beard and
started shaving, wondering what the hell he was going to do to get
his fire back.

Marc wanted to go to Sofia, to beg her
forgiveness, but he had a plane to catch for New York. And once he
went back to the real world, what would become of them?

Chapter Fourteen

Sofia glanced at the laptop’s screen
as she lounged on the veranda of her parents’ home. She’d run back
to daddy when all else failed. The disconnect with Marc had
illuminated the disconnect she had with her entire life. She wasn’t
happy, so she needed to find what it was she wanted.

She’d modeled for her mother. She’d
taken the reporting gig to make her father happy and to get away
from modeling. Now it was time to consider what she wanted to do
with her life. The game on the beach had rekindled her love of
soccer, even if it had been the start to the downfall of that
relationship. It had reminded her of the excitement and her love of
the game.

Sofia had always dreamed of sharing
that love and excitement. She wanted to coach. And she wanted to go
to college, like she’d planned. She’d saved enough money to pay
tuition to a reasonably priced university and her expenses for the
years it would take her if she budgeted carefully. And she’d do it
on her own, without her family’s help. Her father couldn’t demand
anything of her if she’d made her own way. Sofia could finally
start living the life she’d wanted for herself.

A sudden thought hit her. She’d been
trying to appease everyone but herself her entire life. Her mother,
her father, and now Marc.

Marc.

She glanced at the screen again.
Loyola. In Baltimore. Even in her decision to be stronger and live
her own life, she was looking at colleges close to him. She missed
Marc. It had only been a little over a week they’d shared together,
but the connection she’d felt was timeless. The flirting over the
months in the locker rooms, the underlying lust as they’d sparred
with one another had culminated into this strange week of altered
reality. They’d lived in a bubble where no one, not even time had
gotten to them.

Marc had pushed her to extremes, and
she’d loved every minute of it. On that final night, he’d pushed
too far and she’d not felt safe enough. He’d thrown her over the
edge without a safety line, and it had scared her.

The act itself had been sexually
stimulating. But without knowing where his head was, or what he
might do to her, her trust had been shattered.

Did he care that she’d run from him?
It had been three days since she’d left, and she hadn’t heard a
peep. At first, she’d appreciated the quiet, allowing her to
reflect. Now, she felt the chasm between them grow even wider, the
tears in their relationship widening as well.

Sofia entered Marc’s name into the
search box and hit Enter. His handsome face, in his football
jersey, smiled back at her. Tingles of desire rushed through her
body at the memory of his hands on her. He knew every single inch
of her body, and the sight of his picture was enough to cause a
physical response. She sighed, wondering how long it would take to
get Marc Anders out of her system.

A little news story caught
her attention. She clicked on it and read the headline.
Anders Rumored to Meet Commissioner.

She briefly read the first few lines
of copy.

Baltimore Outside Tackle
and Defensive End Marc Anders is rumored to be returning to New
York today to meet with the commissioner of the NFL. The meeting,
alleged to be about his early return after his six-week suspension,
is a shock to no one as the fans have aggressively demanded their
favorite Baltimore player return to the field. Anders was slapped
with that suspension rather harshly, some say, as a signal to
others in the league that unsportsmanlike behavior would not be
tolerated. Fans won’t be discounted, many of them screaming their
support and demanding player Brian Brooks deserved the punishing
blow Anders gave him on the field.

Brooks sat out one game,
but has since returned to the field amongst boos from his own home
team fans.

Snapping the laptop closed, she sat it
on the lounger beside her and looked up to the sun trying to
penetrate the clouds. Marc was returning to his reality while she
was still clamoring trying to figure out what was going on in her
own life. He had probably already forgotten her, ready to head back
to Baltimore and his team.

“
I thought I saw you out
here,” a male voice called, drawing her out of her self-pitying.
Sofia looked at the French doors and saw her brother stagger out,
his futbol uniform a mess. He was muddy and grass stained, but a
wide smile stretched his handsome face as if he didn’t look a
sight. “Do you want to have dinner with me in the square tonight?
I’m meeting a few friends there later.”

She smiled. Her brother had been
trying to get her to come out of the house the last couple of days,
but she hadn’t let him. She needed the quiet to think. “Not
tonight, but I hope you have fun.”

Angelo sat down next to her laptop,
bits of dirt and grass falling off him. She cringed at the thought
of what the house looked like. Even now their housekeeper was more
than likely cursing him under her breath. “I’m worried about you.
You need to forget this man that’s twisted your head.”

Sofia frowned. How had Angelo known?
“I never said it was a man.”

“
There’s someone who’s
broken your heart. I can see it in your eyes. And when you’re ready
to tell me who it is, I’ll go break something of his for
you.”

Sofia chuckled. “Just leave him be.
He’s not worth your effort.”

Angelo frowned, his fists clenching.
“So I was right?”

There was no reason not to
share a little with Angelo. He’d been her shoulder too many times
not to unload some of the emotional baggage she now carried.
“You
were
right,
but there’s no reason to attack. I let things go too far and
started having feelings he didn’t return.”

“
Who wouldn’t have
feelings for a woman as beautiful and intelligent as you?” Angelo
asked. “The man’s an idiot.”

That last bit was an understatement,
but she’d been an idiot, too.

The housekeeper came to the edge of
the veranda. “Sofia, hay alguien en la puerta para
usted.”

Someone was at the door
for her? Who? No one knew she’d returned home.

She stood and slowly made her way to
the front door. Opening it, she sucked in a breath, her heart
beating rapidly in her chest.

“
Please let me talk,” Marc
said, his face ashen. “Ten minutes is all I ask.”

Sofia leaned into the doorframe, her
knees ready to give out. Wait, wasn’t he supposed to be somewhere
else? “I thought you were in New York, meeting with the
commissioner?”

His face was emotionless. “There was
something more important.”

More important than football? Sofia
knew he had to be kidding. He wanted back on that field more than
anything.

Yet here he was. At
her
door.

“
Can I come in?” he asked
impatiently.

She stepped back to let him pass and
saw her brother standing at the edge of the foyer, glaring at
Marc.

“
Is this the cabrón?”
Angelo asked.

Marc turned to look at Angelo, his
shoulders stiffening. “What did you call me?”

Angelo rushed closer, getting into
Marc’s face. Marc had her brother by a good inch or two, but Angelo
wouldn’t back down in the face of a fight, especially if he was
protecting his little sister. “I called you a cabrón. You know, a
bastard, asshole, shithead, whichever expletive you want to
use.”

“
I
know
what the word means.” Marc got
face to face with Angelo, his shoulders lifting as he glared at her
brother. Suddenly, before Sofia could get in the middle of the two,
Marc backed off and turned to look at Sofia. “Yeah, I am a
cabrón.”

Angelo frowned, apparently as shocked
as Sofia was to hear the comment.

“
I was a total asshole to
your sister, and I’m here to apologize to her. It’s the least I can
do.”

Angelo looked between Sofia and Marc.
His body relaxed a tiny bit, but Angelo was still on guard. “Do you
want to hear his apologies, Sofia, or do you want me to throw his
ass out of the house?”

Sofia loved her brother so much for
protecting her, but this was her battle. “I’ll listen to his
apologies. But stay close, I might want you to throw him out
after.”

Angelo nodded and then backed off,
glaring at Marc the entire time he left.

Marc spun to face Sofia and caught her
gaze. “I’m sorry.”

“
For?” she asked, needing
to know exactly what it was he was sorry for. There was no way she
was going to make this easy for him.

“
For using my feelings as
a weapon against you.”

Her eyes widened with that.
“What?”

“
The night you left, you
hurt me. When I overheard that phone call, it stung to hear you say
you were going to do the story after all. I believed you when you
said you weren’t going to write it, but the hurt lingered. I needed
to exert control, because the feelings I have for you were
spiraling out of control.”