Winning Pass - A Football Romance (18 page)

I
f you would have told
me months ago that I’d be lying in bed next to Paige, my fiancée right now, I would have laughed. Marriage? Yeah, no. That wasn’t in the cards for me—only football and more football. With a side of football.

She giggles when I tickle her side after she makes some comment about me reading all the books in our library—excuse me—her library. I like reading, sure, but not as much as she does. There’s no way I can get through all the books. When I pull away from her, I see a stray piece of fuzz from who knows where in Paige’s hair, and I pick it out, catching a soft look on her face.

“Now that your dad’s out of the picture for good, what are you going to do about the team?”

This I’ve had to think about for a while. There was a reason that I didn’t call Paige straight away after I essentially broke everything off with my dad, and although part of the reason was because I wanted to set everything up here in anticipation for my proposal to her, another part was because I had to think long and hard about my future and what I wanted from it.

“Actually, I’m going to stay with the team. I mean, the contract is a good one, and I’m already looking for a new agent, which shouldn’t be a problem, considering all the big contacts Maine has to go through. But I’m hoping that maybe without my dad there, I’ll be able to enjoy the game for what it’s worth. I mean, I’ve always loved football, don’t get me wrong. When you’re stressed out with every damn thing about it as much as I’ve been my whole life, it can be a little bit of a hard pill to swallow. So maybe, without him hanging around here, it’ll be different. At least, that’s what I hope,” I reply to her, rolling over onto my back and looking straight up at the ceiling. “Plus, how else am I going to pay for the awesome life I have planned out for us? We’ll need a fat bankroll for all that, right?” I add a little grin at the end, knowing that she and I both couldn’t give a shit less about that part.

“Or you could help me open my new physical therapy office here in San Antonio. I might end up meeting a really hot patient with a football injury, though, so I’m not sure how you feel about that.”

I give Paige a little side-eye, smiling when she starts to laugh out loud at her own joke. “I don’t know if I should be horrified that you’d dismiss my love so quickly . . . or flattered that you think I’m really hot.”

C
oming
home from Texas is so different from last time that I laugh when I let myself in Stacey’s house. I guess I’m not technically home any more . . . not since I’m engaged to Elijah and moving in with him this week.

“Anyone here?” I call out, setting my purse down on her kitchen countertop. “I’m back!”

Stacey manages to sneak up on me, somehow, even though her burgeoning belly is poking out, making it a little harder for her to walk. Jesus, she’s actually pregnant.

“Hey! How are you?” she asks as she pulls me into a big hug. It’s kind of odd, considering this isn’t the question we usually ask each other. We see each other all the time enough to know better, but I guess that’s going to change. A little part of me crumbles up, because now, I realize what I’m having to give up by moving away and following my dreams. It doesn’t change anything, but it sure as hell makes it harder.

“Everything is good. How are you feeling?”

Stacey reaches down and rubs her belly without even noticing, a smile slowly growing on her face. “I’m finally over being sick. It only took me 4 ½ months, but still.”

4 ½ months? That can’t be right. “Wait a second. Have you been holding back on me? You’re 4 ½ months pregnant? I thought you had only just found out when you told me.”

She gives me a sheepish look and shakes her head. “No. I was actually already twelve weeks when I told you. I just didn’t want to tell anybody . . . you know? Just in case. I have another big surprise for you, though.”

I open my eyes wider, as if that’s going to make a difference. “Really? Are you having triplets?”

“Oh God, please don’t jinx me. No, but we’re having a boy,” she exclaims, doing a little dance along with me.

“Oh my God, a boy? That’s going to be so much fun for you. What does Rafael think? I bet he’s so over the moon right now.”

“Yeah, he’s pretty stoked, to say the least. But we both just want a healthy baby, so it doesn’t matter to either one of us. But you know what that means, right?”

“Baby clothes.” We both join in together, laughing as I pull her in for another big hug. It’s hard to believe that I will have to miss out on all of this when I move to Texas.

I can tell Stacey’s thinking the same thing. “There’s a thing called Skype, so learn to use it. Okay? I will see you like every fucking day, and I’m not even kidding here. You get all the gross details like about my hemorrhoids and if I tear or anything gross like that. Telling you all of it.”

I roll my eyes at my sister, laughing. “It’s not like I’m not going to be there for the birth. Of course I’m going to be here when you actually have him, but Skype it is. I’m definitely down for a little bit of video chatting if that means I get to keep up with your pleasantly puffy face. God, I can’t wait to see how big and veiny your boobs get. You’re going to be like a big, squishy marshmallow, just like I always dreamed. It’s about damn time.”

“Uh! So rude!”

–

“
I
miss
you so much already,” I say into the phone, closing my eyes as I picture Elijah’s face. “When are you going to be here, again?”

His deep laugh rumbles, and I bite my lip, suddenly wishing he really were here with me so I could take advantage of him. Again and again. “It’s only one more practice on the field, and then I’ll be out there with you. Coach T is adamant that I get through all three practices if I want to make it off the bench this season. And I don’t want to throw off my chances.”

“Hmph,” I pout. “If he insists. I’m already hating packing up all these stupid boxes. I don’t remember having this much shit to pack when I first moved into the place. I think this was your plan all along—make me come out here and pack all my stuff up while you get to go hang out with your boys and whatnot. I have to do the hard part.”

“Would you like to trade places? I can put a couple of pairs of shoulder pads on you, lace you up in those tight pants, and then stick a helmet on your head. I can’t guarantee how long you last, but we can absolutely trade places if you want. I have no qualms about boxing up a whole bunch of crap at your apartment.”

“Hey. My stuff isn’t crap. I appreciate the offer, but I’ll have to decline. I guess I’ll find a way to get through it somehow. Most likely booze. And pizza.”

He laughs at me again before telling me how much he loves me and hanging up. I look around the room at the half-filled boxes I packed so far, groaning to myself. And I still have to pack up my office in the next couple of days, too.

–

H
e squeezes
my hand tightly as we walk up the pathway beside the mausoleum. Maureen’s grave is a few rows down from it, right next to the tree line of the forest that borders the cemetery.

My face is still wet from crying after having seen my mom for the first time in months. She’s not doing any better, and in fact, she’s getting worse, from what I can tell, but Stacey promises me that she will visit her at least a few times a week and tell her about how I’m doing. There’s always the visits I plan on making, too, especially when Stacey finally gives birth to baby Brandon. It’s not enough, but it’s the best I can do in my situation. I try to not give into the guilt that’s wanting to smother me and think about my last goodbyes with my sister. She wanted to keep it short and sweet because I knew that she was pretty emotional anyway, given the circumstances, but then again, so was I.

I gave her one last gift—my favorite copy of
The Wizard of Oz
, with a little note to my nephew scrawled in the top corner, just like Elijah had done for me all those years ago.

And here we are, coming to say our last goodbye to his mother. Of course, Maureen hasn’t been around for a long time, but it still feels right to be here to say goodbye to her. After I place a new wreath of fresh flowers at her grave and he cracks a joke or two before those telltale tears start slipping down his face, we walk over to the tree. The very same tree Elijah climbed and told me how we should run away together. Maybe if he would’ve known then, things would be different now. But then . . . things are perfect the way they are for me, and I wouldn’t want to change anything that happened between then and now—not any more.

We sit at the base of the tree, Elijah patting my knee while we both look over the rest of the cemetery. It’s peaceful in this somber afternoon, the cold finally seeping in through the late November clouds above us. Back in Texas, it won’t be as chilly as it is here, so I try to soak it in as much as I can, closing my eyes and imagining being curled up under that favorite afghan of Mama’s on our front porch swing. She and I used to swing early in the morning, before Stacey woke up, still chilly in our pajamas, but covered up in that warm blanket, we felt so much better.

Elijah takes my hand, and I feel something cold and hard being slipped onto my finger. I look down and gasp because it’s the most beautiful ring I’ve ever laid my eyes on. I know it because I’ve seen it before, but I just can’t place it in my mind.

“It was hers. I found it in her jewelry box before my dad took me away, and I kind of had this crazy idea . . . you remember when you were here last time? And I asked you to run away with me?”

How could I forget? “Yes, I remember.”

He rubs his thumb over the ring on my finger, twisting it so that it’s sitting up perfectly. “So I had this whole master plan. I was going to run away with you, and we were to live somewhere in a big city and have some big, amazing life together. And I figured that by the time we were old enough—and at that the time, I thought when I turned fifteen—I’d ask you to marry me. We get married, we go on all these awesome adventures together, I would play in the bands, and you would watch me sing.”

“Oh my God,” I say, laughing because I can’t help myself. “Me watching you sing, huh? Man, you had a really interesting view of the world, didn’t you?”

He nudges me playfully. “Hey, I was twelve, okay? Even then, I knew I was in love with you, is what I’m saying. I knew that this was the ring I was going to eventually put on your finger, one way or the other. I gave up for a really long time, believe me, but when I heard that you were looking for me? Tell me why that was the first thing I thought of. Tell me why I went upstairs to my room as soon as Kevon left and searched for that ring. I found it, and I didn’t do anything with it, obviously, but I made sure I had it ready. You know,
just in case
.”

“Dammit, Elijah. Why do you have to go and say the most perfect things? Don’t you know how much harder you make it for me? It’s already hard enough to keep my hands off you.”

“Success.” He jokingly shouts, standing up and pulling me up on my feet. “It has been my plan all along.”

He’s come such a long way from his grief over his mother that it strikes me deep in my heart when I realize that maybe he’s finally moved on from the worst part of it. He will always mourn his mother in some way, I’m sure of it. But maybe now, I can help him move through the rest of his life without having to grieve for anything else ever again.

“Ready?” I ask him, holding my hand out for him to grab. His fingers are rough and warm, just the way they’ve always been.

“Let’s go,” he replies as we walk.

And we do . . . straight into our new, exciting lives.

K
errigan Grant is
a romance author with a huge heart, wide curves, and a solid imagination. She's been writing stories of her own since she was old enough to hold a pencil in her hand, and knows that no matter what, she will never stop. Before she was lucky enough to snag the opportunity to sit around in her pajamas and write all day, she did a wide variety of things that gave her a very interesting take on the world. She enjoys that small window in the South where it's not too hot but still warm, reading any book she can get her hands on, laughing with her friends, all things pizza-related, and a huge pitcher of her BFF's sweet tea. 

M
ost days
she's working hard on her writing and spending as much time with her family as she can. She and her husband are high-school sweethearts and the biggest goofballs when they're by themselves. She completely adores her son and daughter and hope that one day she can inspire them to live happy and do what they love, just like she gets to do every day. Kerrigan lives with her family in warm and sweet Charleston, South Carolina.

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T
his book was
a labor of love that came to me on a drive, so thanks to my Jeep for the peace and quiet that I sometimes need.  

Thank you to my author friends online who work so diligently to be the best for themselves and for their many readers (including me)! Thank you for always being there when I needed to rant about how many times Dragon messed up my dictation and I had to start over from scratch, and for the funny times it misheard my speaking. Apparently, it's a very sexual and violent piece of software. 

Thank you to my close circle of author friends (you know who you are) who have always supported me from my first time journeying into the self-publishing world and beyond. I will keep your secrets and love you to pieces. 

Many thanks to my amazing ARC team, who pushes me to do better and are the sweetest, lovelies around. You're all aces in my book- literally now!

I must also thank my puppy, Annie, for keeping my feet warm during the long, long nights of writing.

Thanks to my family- my parents, sisters, nephews & nieces who all support me in their own ways. 

Thank you to my best friends. T, for being the amazingly relate-able and reliable person you are. Without you I never would be where I am now with my writing. So thank you sooo much for that. B, for being my other half for so long. We need to make sure that at some point we buy that plot of land for us to build our house. You know- the one with the rocking chairs because we'll be old and it will only be us left. We will have those matching jazzies too.

My children, I love you to the moon and the stars and the ends of the universe and back. Sorry for all the times Mommy was cranky because she only had three hours of sleep. You are the absolute most important things in my life and I will try so very hard to be the best person I can be for you. So many kisses and hugs and big thank yous and high-fives.

And last but never, ever least- Dustin. You are the person who makes this whole thing happen. You worked so hard, so very hard, to make sure that our children and I can have the kind of life where I get to go sit at my desk every day and fulfill my dream one puzzle piece at a time. It was a hard and dedicated life you led to get us here, and I've never been more grateful for it than now. You're the bestest.

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