Chapter Twenty-Four

Carson

“So what do you think of LA?” I asked Gwen, as we lazily walked down the street, taking in the sights and lapping up some much-needed sunshine.

“I think I’m finally starting to defrost,” she teased, holding her arms out for the sun.

I scrubbed a hand along my jaw, battling with myself on whether or not to take the question one step farther. We’d been in LA for four days and while I spent most of the time at practice, we’d sneak off every chance we got to explore the city and spend time together.

“What’s on your mind?” she asked, narrowing her eyes as she glanced up at me. “You have your thinking face on.”

I chuckled. “What would you think about moving out here?”

“Moving?”

I slid my hand into the back pocket of her denim shorts and tugged her hip toward me. “It’s not official yet, but the Pelicans have been chasing down my agent pretty hard to get a meeting once the Super Bowl is over.”

“And this is what you want to do?”

I shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Carson…”

“All right,” I said, taking in a deep breath. “I want to go where I can actually play. The Cannons won’t need me anymore once Vex and Peters are back. Even if Peters retires, which, after his injury, is highly possible. I won’t get that much time once Vex is back and he should be by the time fall rolls around. Out here, I could be the big fish.”

Gwen nodded slowly, her beautiful mind turning the options over in her mind.

“I’d keep my condo in Bitsburg and we could stay there during the off season, enjoy the summers with family and friends, and then be out here during the season. It’s not that long on a plane, three, four hours tops. You could go back and forth as much as you wanted to. With the contract numbers people are speculating about, money wouldn’t be an issue.”

“I’d have to take the bar all over again,” she said. “For California.”

I nodded, my heart sinking. She didn’t like it. I was about to drop it, ask her opinion on dinner, when she took my hand and rested her head against my chest. “If you’re in LA, then I want to be in LA too. Vinnie’s case is resolved and I feel good about moving on. Cassie and Langston have been asking me about joining the board of directors for their non-profit and providing legal advice as they branch out and grow. I would have a lot of pull and a lot of resources at my disposal. I wasn’t sure whether or not to take it…but maybe that’s what I’m supposed to do. My next step.” She paused and looked up at me. “That is if you and Langston can still be friends once you’re on opposing teams.”

I chuckled. “I’m sure we’ll manage just fine. Why didn’t you tell me about the job offer? That’s amazing!”

Gwen tilted her head up, soaking up the sun as we reached the end of the sidewalk and stopped to wait for the light to change. “Because I wasn’t sure whether or not to take it. I just got started at the public defender’s office and didn’t want to walk away until I was really sure what my next step was going to be. The whole time I was in law school, I was planning to get out and help Vinnie, but then to move on and help other people like Vinnie who needed someone to give them a chance.”

“I get that.”

“But with an organization like what Cassie and Langston have built, it feels like I could make an even bigger difference. They even talked about expanding at some point in the next five years, and arranging to have an in-house team of lawyers that could help people like Vinnie, people from the system and help them. I could do a lot of good and be a part of something big and moving and breathing.”

I traced my fingers down the side of her face. “Sounds like you’ve kind of made up your mind.”

Gwen met my eyes. “I guess I kind of have…”

“Well, assuming Cassie and Langston don’t have a problem with you telecommuting, it sounds like you could work from LA or Bitsburg or New York.”

“I guess that means you’re stuck with me stalking you for a while,” she teased.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

****

Super Bowl Sunday came all too quickly. After saying goodbye to Gwen, I met up with the team, and we bussed it over to the stadium. It was an odd kind of silence that followed up as we prepared for the game. Coach normally had to compete with all the different personalities to make himself heard, but on game day, sitting in the locker room, he could have whispered and we all would have heard every word.

“This is it, Stiles,” Langston said, taking his new-normal place beside me as we prepared to go out to the tunnel.

My jaw was tight but I offered my best attempt at a smile. Though, it felt more like a grimace. My stomach was in knots and every nerve and muscle was wound tight, ready to spring. I knew once my shoes hit the turf, I’d spring into action, but thinking ahead, all I felt was nauseous.

And for good reason…by the time we made it through the first two quarters and the hoopla spectacle of a halftime show, we were down six points and the nerves that had kept everyone quiet prior to the game were now all channeled into smart ass comments and frustrated glares at one another in the locker room.

Coach tried to rally us but when we hit the field for the third quarter, we were more disjointed than ever. The weight of it fell square on my shoulders. I was the quarterback. The leader. I was supposed to have my team’s shit together in the moments they were losing it the most. But the third quarter saw us slide even further and despair was palpable as we took a time out.

“Stiles, over here,” Coach said, jerking his chin toward me.

I jogged over as he pulled me aside. “Yes, Coach?”

“Son, we gotta get this ship back on course. The crowd’s turning on us and we need them back on our side. We need this next play to get them fired up again. They love you. You’re the underdog story of the year, hell, maybe the best one in NFL history. So, if anyone is going to get this crowd back on our side, and get the team in the right frame of mind to win this thing, it’s you. You got it, Son?”

“Understood, sir.”

He laid out the play and we hit the field, ready to get back on top. The Ospreys were a top team, one that was counted on to win, and their arrogance poured off of them as they got into position. I channeled Coach’s voice inside my head and followed the play he’d passed down. It went off perfectly and we scored a touchdown.

The crowd rallied and we stopped the Ospreys from gaining ground before the end of the quarter. We went into the fourth on level ground but thanks to a fumble, we wound up back where we started. By the middle of the fourth, we were down 21-17 and the Ospreys had the ball. Their play was obvious, move the ball down the field and eat up as much time as they could to kick it and leave us with no choice but to get a touchdown or go home.

I watched from the sidelines, bouncing from one foot to the other, and was stunned when Langston caught an interception and stopped the Ospreys reign of terror. We had two minutes left and even before Coach pulled me aside, I saw what we needed to do.

We needed a touchdown and damn it, I was going to make it happen.

For me. For the Cannons. For my teammates Vex and Peters who were waiting on the bench and praying all their hard work from the regular season wouldn’t come undone. For Gwen and our future.

It all came down to one moment.

Time was suspended in some kind of slow motion action scene and I was left with a familiar choice—tuck and run.

So that was what I did. I faked a pass, tucked the ball as tight as I could against my side, and ran like hell for the end zone.

The stadium took a collective gasp as the Ospreys realized the play and reassembled, everyone making a mad dash for me. I could hear them, feel them coming for me, but I zigged, zagged, and jumped.

And landed right in the end zone.

A twenty-five-yard touchdown was mine and the crowd lost their shit.

The Cannons raced onto the field and piled on top of me before I could even process what had happened. We took the kick but it was just for show, there was no way for the Ospreys to take the title from us. We’d done it. We’d won the Super Bowl.

Confetti was still raining down, the gold and silver speckles glittering in the late day sun. I stared up at it, trying to keep from breaking down into tears right there on the fifty-yard line with millions of people watching me.

“Carson Stiles, I’m not sure we’ve ever seen anything like this! What a season!”

I nodded and swiped at my eyes. “God, yeah, I don’t even—I can’t get my head together right now. This is just—”

“Carson!”

I turned at the call and spotted Gwen bolting toward me, full speed, the widest grin on her face. She crashed into my arms, nearly taking us both out, and planted a huge kiss on my lips, oblivious to the cameras or the thousands of people in the stands watching us.

I laughed as we broke apart. She squeezed me tight. “You did it! You were amazing!” She turned to the cameras, still beaming, and pointed at my chest. “He’s amazing!”

The reporter laughed softly and nodded. “You’ve gone from a third-string, career bench rider, to the star quarterback of not just the season, or your league, but the Super Bowl! And what a finish! What are you thinking? How does it feel?”

“I just—I’m so grateful—” I clung tightly to Gwen and searched for words powerful enough to express the joy and gratitude radiating through me. I shook my head, too overcome with emotion to find my voice. “This win isn’t just about these last few games. It’s about the work put in all season, from every single player on this team. I know, even for myself, as some player no one even knew about, I was still there, putting in the work and I think that’s the lesson here. You know? Put in the work and be ready for your name to get called up.”

The reporter fired off her next questions. “What are you going to do next? Where do you go from here?”

I grinned down at Gwen before glancing back up at the reporter. “It looks like I’m getting a ring, but I think it’s high time I go ring shopping for this sexy woman right here.”

“Carson!” Gwen slapped a hand across her mouth.

“Oh, and then we’ll go to Disneyland.”

Gwen laughed with the reporter as she stared up at me, shaking her head. “You’re crazy.”

“Maybe.” I grinned down at her and tucked her hair behind her ear. “What do you say?”

“To which? The ring, or Disneyland?”

“Here, this oughtta clear it up,” I said, dropping to one knee. “Gwen Bristol, you’re the most beautiful woman in the world and most of the time I wander around wondering how the hell I got so lucky to catch your eye. I couldn’t do any of this without you. Please, do this poor sap a favor and agree to be my wife.”

Gwen laughed even as tears splashed down her cheeks. I held my breath, waiting for that all important answer, and when she nodded, something burst inside of me, like fireworks, cannons, and a dam all going loose at once.

“Yes! Carson, oh my gosh!” she shouted, loud enough for everyone on the field to hear before collapsing into my arms.

The next year was shaping up to be the best one yet. A wedding, a new life in a new city, with a new team, oh, yeah, and a Super Bowl ring. I’d never thought that winning the biggest game of any football player’s career could somehow feel like a secondary prize, but when compared to thinking about my future with Gwen as my wife, it didn’t even come close to being the best thing that ever happened to me.

~THE END~

Thank you so much for reading Carson and Gwen’s story! Have you read Turn the page for more sinfully sexy hotness from KB Winters!