In the End Zone: A Sports Romance (12 page)

Brent was running fast,
streaking along the far side of the field and running the length of the Blue
Kraits bench. The field in front of him was free and clear and Morgan knew that
this was his perfect shot. From there, he could run it out, score another point
for the team, and effectively seal his record.

Out of nowhere, a giant, hulking
man with a bald head and angry red face appeared and he hurled himself on top
of Brent Larson. Erik Levitt had jumped from the sidelines and tackled the
Caimans' star running back, hitting him right in those sore, probably broken
ribs.

Levitt rose victorious. He
stared down at Larson’s crumpled figure and began laughing in such a way that
Morgan’s blood ran cold.

Larson was not moving.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chaos reigned as players from
both teams fought desperately to pull Erik Levitt away from his rival. Everyone
from the benches had poured onto the field and most of them looked as though
they could kill Erik Levitt where he stood. The coaches were all screaming, the
refs were blowing whistles, and the crowd was roaring with anger. Morgan
wondered if they would storm the field in protest.

And all the while, Brent Larson
laid on the ground, motionless.

Somewhere deep within her,
Morgan felt as though she was falling hard and fast. She had let out an
ear-piercing scream when Brent went down, and at some point, she had dropped to
her knees. Her security guard was there with her, but she barely heard the
soothing words that he spoke in her ear. In fact, most of the noise ran
together for her. All she knew was that her boyfriend, the love of her life,
was laying on the open, grassy field, still.

"It's okay, he will be
okay," Max said as he rubbed Morgan's back.

Morgan looked up at Max and she
regarded his beautiful, chocolate face. "How do you know?"

Max looked horrified at what had
happened. "Because he has to be."

Morgan looked back to the field
just in time to see Erik Levitt being lead off the field and back to the locker
rooms. "Good," a reporter near Morgan said, "He should be thrown
out for that. I've never in my life seen something so terrible from a
professional football player."

The camerawoman agreed. "I can’t
believe they let this game go on like this. This has been a bloodbath."

The medics were crowding around
Brent now, and Morgan could faintly see him stirring. As Coach Boss removed
Brent's helmet, Morgan saw his lips moving, and she knew that he was asking for
her.

Coach boss shook his head, then
he waved over two guys who helped Brent to his feet. The stadium erupted with a
thunderous applause as Brent made his way gingerly over to the bench, still
being propped up on his feet.

Brent looked over at her and he
clutched his side as he sat. "Morgan," he said, his eyes never
leaving hers.

Morgan made her way to him,
pushing past players that had gathered around Brent. He was clutching his side
and his face was twisted with a paid that Morgan had never seen on him before.

The medics fussed over Larson,
buzzing around him like bothersome gnats. "I cannot clear you to
play," one of them said sternly, "We warned you that you could aggravate
this. I think we need to get you to the hospital."

"No!" Larson protested
with gritted teeth. "I'm going back out there."

He tried to stand, but quickly
fell back on to the bench. Morgan caught his arm and helped to ease him back
down. "Brent, please!" she said, her voice full of worry, "You
could really hurt yourself if you go back out there!"

"Your ribs could be broken.
You may have a concussion. If you take another hard blow like that, you could
puncture your lung, or worse." The medics all looked on with concern.
"You could do serious, permanent damage to your body."

Brent looked up. His eyes looked
from Morgan to the medics, and finally over to Coach Boss who had silently
moved over to the group. "Coach... please..."

Coach Boss's eyes narrowed as he
looked Larson over. "Larson, there is 1:30 left in the game. We need a
touchdown to win this." Morgan could not believe what she was hearing.
"If I put you in, you get one shot at this. One shot, then I pull you and
send you to the hospital right afterward."

Brent nodded and he gingerly
rose to his feet. Morgan watched as he bared his teeth and clenched his jaw,
but none the less, he stood on his own two feet and stood up straight.

"I am going in."

Morgan cried out, begging Brent
not to risk it. The medics all protested and even some of his fellow players
tried to stand in his way. But Brent heard none of them. He pulled on his
helmet and began jogging out to the field to meet the rest of the team.

"He's back, folks! Larson's
back in the game!" the announcer shouted. The crowd roared when they saw
the number 93 jogging out to meet the rest of the offensive line. His
replacement patted him on the back and ran off the field quickly.

Morgan and Max stood with the
rest of the Caimans and they watched silently. She glanced over at Coach Boss
and saw him standing nearby with narrow eyes and a thin mouth. He spoke to no
one and refused to look away from the play.

"Blue 72! 72! Hike!"

The ball was snapped back to
Smythe, who began lining up the most important pass of his life. Morgan's eyes
snapped on to the number 93 star running back for the Caimans. Brent Larson was
off like a shot, running fast and hard down the field. He turned to look just
as the ball left
Smythe's
hands.

Morgan could not breath as the
ball soared through the air. It seemed like time slowed down and every person
in the stadium was quiet as they waited for the ball to reach Larson.

The brown football curved
beautifully in the air, landing squarely, securely in the arms of Brent Larson.

A scream pierced the air, coming
from behind the parted lips of Morgan McMinn. "GO, BABY!" she said,
her voice cracking as she cheered on her love.

Everyone in the stadium was
cheering Larson on as he ran faster than he ever had in his life. Morgan's
heart raced right along with Larson's legs, and he ran and ran. His face was
pained, but Morgan saw the determination oozing out of his tanned skin. He
would get that last touchdown, or he would collapse while doing it.

But those hulking defensive linemen
for the Blue Kraits were not ready to back down easily. They rushed at Larson,
ready to take him down like an injured colt. Morgan's heart raced as she
watched two players in blue jerseys bearing down on her lover.

WHAM! Out of nowhere, one of the
players was taken down by a Caiman. The blue and orange tangled together and
fell to the soft green field. And just as the other was coming up to take
Larson out for good, two more Caimans rushed the Blue Krait, and he was
finished before he took another step.

"Go, Brent! Go baby!
Run!" Morgan's shouts rang along with everyone else's as she cheered hard
for Larson. Every person in the stadium was on their feet, watching history be
made.

Larson found a burst of speed
somewhere deep within him, and in seconds, he crossed into the end zone seconds
before the end of the game.

"TOUCHDOWN CAIMANS!"
The announcers screamed into their mics.

But the announcers were drowned
out by the cacophony of noise echoing through the stadium. Every fan was on
their feet, jumping, shouting, and cheering for the man who not only just set
the record for most touchdowns in a season, but the man who single-handedly won
the game for the Caimans against their arch rival.

Morgan looked around as the
players and coaches rushed the field, all ready to surround Larson with a
bubble of cheers. Her eyes landed on the away team's bench and she was happy to
see that every single player for the Blue Kraits were on their feet, clapping
for Brent Larson and his team. Erik Levitt, who had been thrown out of the game
long ago, was forgotten, and everyone was basking in Brent Larson's glory.

"He did it! He did it! He
did it!" Morgan squealed as she jumped up and down. She turned around and
jumped on Max, wrapping her arms around his thick neck.

Max laughed a deep, booming
laugh. "No doubts, huh?"

But Morgan said nothing back.
She just laughed along with her security guard for the day, giving him a tight
squeeze.

Morgan jumped off of Max and all
she wanted to do was find Brent. She looked out onto the field and all she saw
was a seat of orange and gold. The fans had stormed the field not long after
the players, and it seemed that everyone was celebrating as one big, happy
family. She walked out with Max at her heels and she waded through the people,
gently pushing through.

"I see him," Max
called out from high above her. He began guiding the way and both fans and
players alike seemed to part in front of them.
 

Morgan's heart began to race the
farther along they traveled. She was desperate to be by Brent's side, to kiss
him and wrap her arms around him and celebrate his amazing achievement. He did
exactly what he told her that he would do. He would win, and he would win her.

Max moved to the side and there,
standing in front of her and propped up by Sam Smythe, was Brent Larson. His
shaggy brown hair had fallen in his eyes, but he quickly pushed it away. A
lop-sided grin played on his face, the same one that he had given her when they
met for the first time in the locker room on her first day as an intern. His
blue eyes began to twinkle when he saw her, and she knew that he had been
looking for her, too.

"Hey baby." Morgan
could not believe how nonchalant he was.

She did not respond. She ran for
Brent and when she reached him, Sam stepped away. Morgan wrapped her arms
around him, pressing her body against his, wanting nothing more than to be near
him. He was hard and hot and dripping, but she did not care. She held him as
tight as she could and she tipped her head up and kissed him full on the mouth.

Their kiss was long and hard and
Morgan could feel herself growing weak at the knees when Brent's tongue began
playing with hers. The happiness and the primal need that they shared in that
moment was unlike anything that Morgan had ever known.

When they broke apart, Morgan
heard the cheers around her, but they all seemed to fade. She knew of nothing
but her and Brent and the way his body felt against hers.

"I told you I would do
it," Brent said with his classic lop-sided smile.

Morgan pressed her forehead
against his. "I never doubted you for a second."

Epilogue

Morgan stared at herself in the
mirror and she could not believe how beautiful she looked. True, she had looked
good before, but often she would get dressed in casual clothes, put on some lip
gloss, and tie her long, wavy hair in a messy bun high on her head. But
tonight, she looked radiant.

Hours before, Morgan had gotten
her hair styled at a boutique in town that Sam
Smythe's
girlfriend had recommended. She turned to look at her hair from all sides and it
took her breath away. Her long hair was piled high in an elaborate knot with
little tendrils of curl coming down to frame her face. The boutique also did
her makeup and nails, which made her face look like a work of art. Her eyes
were darkly shadowed with just a little hint of navy blue at the corners. Her
lips were painted a beautiful rose color. Her cheeks were contoured for the
first time in her life. And her fingernails were long and manicured, not
sporting a heavy, glossy coat of midnight blue.

But it was her dress that she
loved the most. Morgan's dress was a long, form-fitting black velvet gown that
hung to every curve in her body. The neck was high and she accented it with a
single necklace with a teardrop shaped diamond at the end. Her arms and shoulders
were bare. The dress moved down her body as though it was painted on, coming to
rest just above the floor. Underneath, she sported a pair of black heels, and
if she was to tell the truth, she had been wearing them for weeks, trying to
get comfortable walking in them.

When Morgan put everything
together, her reflection looked as though she had walked right off a page in a
magazine.

"Whoa, baby," Brent's
voice fell gently on her ears from behind her, "You look amazing."

Morgan turned to face Brent. He
stood in the doorway, leaning on the side with his hands in his pockets, and he
looked so good that it took Morgan's breath away. His hair that usually hung in
his eyes was slicked back away from his face. He was freshly shaven and Morgan
knew that if she touched his cheek, she would find it to be soft and smooth.
But what took Morgan's breath away the most was that Brent had dressed himself
in the sexiest black tux that Morgan had ever seen.

"Not so bad yourself,"
she teased, making her way over to him.

Brent walked over and wrapped an
arm around Morgan's waist. "
Mmm
," he said
as he curled one of her tendrils around his finger, "This is going to look
amazing in the floor tonight."

A little blush rose up on
Morgan's cheek, but she only smiled. "I was just thinking the same thing
about that tux."

Brent laughed and they shared a
kiss. "Ready to go?"

Morgan nodded and she felt a nervous flutter rise up in her
chest. They hopped on to the elevator that opened up in Brent's living room and
went downstairs. Waiting for them just outside was a limo that Brent had rented
just for that night.

They were headed to an elegant
"End of the Season" dinner that the Caimans threw every year. And
this year, Brent was receiving an award for breaking the "most touchdowns
in a season record."

The drive to the dinner was
mostly quiet. Brent knew that Morgan was nervous about the evening, so he chose
to not make her nerves worse by speaking. Instead, he scrolled around on his
phone while Morgan twisted a tissue in her lap.

"Whoa," Brent said
quietly. Morgan looked over and his eyes were wide with shock.

"What?"

"I just read that Levitt is
being forced to retire."

"WHAT?"

Morgan scooted over to Brent's
side to read the article on his phone.

LEVITT
OUSTED AMONG TANTRUM RUMORS

Erik Levitt, famed
running back for the Blue Kraits, has announced today that he will be seeking
an early retirement, effectively ending his run with the pro football team.

Levitt, who many will
remember was ejected from this year's game against the Caimans, came under
heavy fire when he illegally tackled rival Brent Larson while Larson was
attempting to break the touchdown record for the season. As a result, the Blue
Kraits suspended Levitt from the next two games and ordered him into anger
management.

But there are rumors
among those in the know that Levitt refused to seek therapy. The coach for the
Blue Kraits was unavailable for comment earlier today, but the team's public
relations office released a statement, reading in part that "while we are
sad to see Mr. Levitt leave the game of football, we look forward to next
year's season."

Was Levitt forced out by
a team that refused to babysit him anymore? Or, does he really want to get back
to gardening and fishing, as he said in his press release earlier today?

"Holy shit," Larson
said as he read the article.

Morgan looked over at him.
"Did you know about any of this?"

"Yeah," Brent
admitted, "I had heard that he was refusing to do the anger management
thing. And one of the kickers said that he was really bad to trash locker rooms
and that he destroyed a lot of equipment after our game."

"Good lord," Morgan
said, sitting back in her seat.

"Oh well," Larson
said, shutting off his phone, "Now I won’t have to worry about him
reinjuring my ribs next year."

Morgan rubbed the back of
Larson's hand gently. After the game, they had learned that Brent had cracked
four of his ribs and he had a lot of deep tissue bruising. He had to sit out
for a game, but then muscled his way in for the rest of the season, adding to
his record. Levitt was never close to beating him again.

The limo soon pulled up in front
of the hall and Morgan gasped. It was a beautiful hall, complete with candles
lighting the walk way and two men dressed in formal wear, waiting to open their
door and escort them in.

Larson climbed out first, then
reached in for Morgan's hand. Once she was out, he never let go of her, and she
felt calm knowing that he was right by her side.

Together, the lovers made their
way into the hall and Morgan fell in love. The decor, which was orange and gold
for the team, also had notes of midnight black, which made the colors mix
together gently. Each table as adorned with little centerpieces featuring
footballs, orange and gold flags, and black marbles. Larson found their table
quickly, and Morgan was grateful to find Sam Smythe and his girlfriend, Nina,
sitting with them, along with two other players that she did not know well.

"Oh gosh, I am so glad to
see you!" Morgan whispered to Sam and Nina as she sank down into her
chair.

Nina smiled sweetly at Morgan.
"Isn’t this the best? It's my third year coming to the banquet and I think
that this year is the top of the three."

Morgan and Nina chatted through
the salad course of dinner, then the main course. Morgan found herself at ease
as she talked to the woman who had quickly became her friend over the past few
years. Once the main course was finished, Coach Boss approached the stage just
in front of Morgan. She looked on at the coach with pride as he began.

"Thank you all for coming
to this year's Caimans' banquet." He stopped for applause, then continued
on. "This year, we are honoring all of those who made this successful year
possible. From players, to coaches, to staff, you all have worked hard and
tirelessly, and this year, we reap the awards."

Morgan clapped hard and she
grinned big. She looked over at Brent, who clapped as well, but he had a
strange look on his face. Was he nervous?

Coach Boss beamed down at the
table where Morgan, Brent, and the others all sat. "This year's biggest story
comes from our very own Brent Larson. Larson, in only his third year playing
pro, successfully shattered the touchdown record for a season and is well on
his way to breaking the lifetime touchdowns record."

The applause in the room was
thunderous and Morgan looked over and beamed at her boyfriend. Coach went on to
talk about various plays throughout the year, including his big game-winning
touchdown against the Blue Kraits. Larson smiled humbly as it all went down,
and Morgan noticed that he pulled a small white slip of paper from his pocket.

"It is my pleasure to award
this year's MVP trophy, as well as this plaque representing the new touchdown
record, to the number 93, Mr. Brent Larson."

Larson stood and smiled as the
room filled with whoops and cheers, with Morgan's being the loudest. He walked
up to the stage and took the awards after smiling thank shaking his coach's
hand. Boss backed away and Larson centered himself in front of the microphone.

"Thank you," he said
as he unfolded the little scrap of paper. He began to read: "My journey
began when my father gave me my very own football for my seventh birthday. But
never in my life did I dream that I would accomplish so much. Football is my
dream, and it is my reality." Larson looked up and his eyes found
Morgan's. "I never could have done this without the support from my
coaches, my team mates, and the love of my life.

"Morgan," he spoke as
though she was the only one in the room, "My darling, my love. Thank you.
Thank you for standing by me, no matter what the cost. You never turned your
back on me, even in my darkest hours. I can never, ever repay you. But I will
spend the rest of my life trying."

Larson nodded and applause
filled the air. Morgan's heart soared, and when Larson dropped back into the
chair beside her, she leaned over and gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek.

The ceremony droned on after
that, with awards going to Sam Smythe, three defensive linemen, and one
third-stringer. Others were recognized too, but soon they all melded together and
Morgan found her attention wavering.

Larson seemed to know how she
felt. "Need some air?" he leaned over and whispered.

"Absolutely." The pair
slipped out of their chairs and out a glass side door which lead to a secluded,
empty balcony.

Morgan sighed as she leaned
against the railing, looking out on the city with twinkled in the darkness.
"Your speech was great," she said.

"But this one is going to
be better."

Morgan was confused, and she
raised an eyebrow as she turned to face him. Brent had a smile on his face, a
secretive one, and Morgan's chest suddenly felt as though she was housing many
butterflies. "... Brent?"

"No, let me speak,"
Brent said as he moved close to her. He took one of Morgan's hands in his while
his other trailed along the side of her face, brushing a curled tendril of hair
from it. "Darling, I meant every word I said up there."

"I know," Morgan said
softly.

"And I when I said that I
want to spend the rest of my life trying to repay you, I meant it."

"I know." Morgan could
barely breath. Was this really....

The hand that stroked Morgan's
cheek reached into his pocket and out came a small black box. Morgan could
hardly see it in the dim light, but her mind registered it immediately. She
gasped and put her free hand to her mouth.

Brent just chuckled. "I
love you, Morgan McMinn. I have loved you from the moment I saw you sitting on
the bleachers, watching me practice. I loved you when I teased you. I loved you
when I made that bet with you. I loved you every moment of every day."

Tears sprang up in Morgan's eyes
as Brent lowered himself to one knee before her. He cracked open the box with
one finger, a move that he most certainly had been practicing. There, nestled
inside the box among a bed of white satin, was a beautiful rose gold engagement
ring. The ring was topped with a large square diamond, with other little
diamonds running down either side of the band. Morgan gasped as she saw it, and
she knew that Brent must have had it specially made for her.

"Morgan," Brent's
voice shook as he held the diamond up, "Will you marry me?"

The answer was always there. Why
even ask the question?

"Yes! Of course I will
marry you!" The happy little tears that had sparkled in Morgan's eyes
spilled over and down her cheeks. She was no longer looking at the ring. She
was looking at the man who held it. The man who held her heart.

Brent jumped to his feet and
lifted Morgan from the ground, kissing her full on the mouth. She moaned
against his lips, and her mind whirled. She was sharing her first kiss with Brent
Larson, her fiancé!

The kiss lasted for ages, and
when they finally broke apart, Morgan touched the side of Larson's face.
"I love you," she whispered.

"I love you, baby."

Brent took the ring from the box
and slipped the cool metal onto Morgan's finger. She looked down at the little
band that sparkled and it took her breath away. Morgan had always feared that a
ring would make her feel heavy, but this one gave her wings.

They pressed their foreheads
together like they often did and Brent whispered, "Are you ready to go
back in?"

Morgan smiled and ran her
fingers through Larson's hair, messing up the slicked-back and making it
shaggy. It fell just above his eyes.