CHAPTER 18
Graham
THE PRESENT…
It had been an entire week since I’d slept with Lauren.
And I was barely fucking surviving.
I’d had to hold myself back from answering her text. In fact, I’d come so close to begging her for forgiveness that I finally slammed my phone against the wall, breaking it so I wouldn’t use the damn thing to do something dangerous—like calling her just to see if she was okay.
I couldn’t see her. I couldn’t talk to her. I couldn’t explain what I’d done.
I’d gotten a new phone, but I couldn’t shake the emptiness that had been eating at me since the moment I’d stepped outside the cabin in Aspen to head for Denver.
“I’m a chicken shit son-of-a-bitch,” I cursed as I aimed and let go of the football, hitting my target just a little off-center.
I should have stayed and told Lauren in person that I couldn’t fuck her again, that I wanted to go back to being friends, but I hadn’t. Probably because I’d been afraid that I wouldn’t be able to say the words I needed to say.
Fucking Lauren was like a drug. She was addicting, and I knew if I saw her eyes open the morning I’d left, I wouldn’t have been able to walk away. Every instinct had been screaming at me to stay, but my rational mind knew I couldn’t be with her again.
I had to think about her well-being, something I hadn’t thought about once the whole time I’d been screwing her. But I was thinking pretty damn hard about it now.
Tyler “Ty” Miller, my new wide receiver, had needed to adjust quickly to catch the pass, but he’d pulled the ball in effortlessly.
It was probably just as well that Ty had called me to see if I wanted to get some practice in well before we started officially on the practice field. I needed to work off steam. I’d been so fucking restless that I’d actually been glad he called, even though I’d promised myself a break before I got back on the field again.
Tossing balls beat getting off with my hand every damn day. Yeah, I probably could have found a woman who would fuck me, but I was pretty sure Lauren had ruined me, at least for now.
I lifted another ball from the ground as I prepared to toss another long pass.
I tried not to think about what Lauren was doing.
And I failed fucking miserably.
She was safe. I knew that. I’d checked on her myself. There was no way I could keep from stalking her dad’s place to see if she got home okay. Her car had been in front of the house before nightfall the same day I’d left Aspen.
Lauren had left a voicemail earlier this morning. I hadn’t answered. I hadn’t replied to her in any way. It was the only way I could keep myself in check.
And even that wasn’t working out well for me.
How in the hell could I explain why I’d gone? I spent one fucking perfect night with her, and then walked out the door before she even woke up.
What kind of asshole did that shit?
Just. Me.
And I hated myself for it.
I’d woken up a little after sunrise, and the realization of what I’d allowed myself to do really sank in.
I’d screwed the woman who’d always been there for me, cared about me.
Lauren. My Peanut. What in the hell had I been thinking?
Honestly, I probably hadn’t been thinking anything. My dick had been totally in control.
Ty motioned to me that he was ready, and I forced myself to concentrate as I tossed the football.
It was still a little off, but I didn’t have to worry about Ty. He was the type of guy who was going to get the football into his hands regardless of how I was throwing.
Then again, Ty Miller was a first-round draft pick who’d scored a pretty decent contract for a guy who was just out of college. He should be good. The Cats had paid a lot of money to get him on their team.
My receiver trotted toward the sidelines, so I followed him.
“Jesus Christ, it’s cold,” Ty said with a grin.
“Get used to it,” I stated flatly. “You’re not in Florida anymore.”
The field was clear of snow, but the temperatures were pretty frigid. I had no doubt Tyler was feeling it. He’d grown up in Florida, and he’d played college ball there, too.
I watched as he threw back a bottle of water. He seemed like a decent guy, but I wasn’t exactly chatty. I pretty much minded my own business in a team setting unless the players were fucking up. It was safer that way. My best friend had just lost my trust, and I wasn’t willing to stick my neck out again.
Tyler didn’t know me, and I didn’t know him.
Just the way I liked it.
“You married?” he asked me innocently.
“I was engaged. We broke up.” I grabbed my water bottle and quenched my thirst.
“You cheat on her?”
God, the bastard was curious. Too curious.
I dropped the water bottle back onto the bench. “Nope. She screwed my best friend.”
Maybe I was counting on honesty shutting him up. I figured if I blurted out the truth, he’d stop asking questions.
I was wrong.
He scowled as he answered, “That’s fucked up, man.”
I shrugged. “She made her choice.”
“You’re okay with that?”
I lost my patience. “Hell, no, I’m not okay with it.” I was still hurting over what Jack had done. “I lost my best friend.”
“What about her?” he asked as he set his empty water bottle on the bench. “You sound more put out about your buddy than your fiancée.”
“Why in the hell would I be upset over a woman who wanted to fuck another guy?”
Ty shrugged. “If you were going to marry her, it had to hurt.”
“It didn’t,” I denied, knowing I was telling him the truth. I’d thought a lot about Hope. She’d probably done me a favor. My pride was more injured than my emotions.
He hesitated before he said carefully, “I’ve heard that you’re an asshole to work with. My buddy who plays left tackle for New England warned me about you. I’m not trying to be rude, but I just wanted to get that out there. I’m hoping we can have a better relationship than you had with your receivers on your last team.”
I’d been a dick to my last team. I let them know every damn time they’d made a mistake. I knew it, but I guess I didn’t like him saying it out loud. “I had to take my chance when our QB went out with an injury. Maybe I was a jerk, but I just wanted all of them to work as hard as I did. It’s too damn competitive not to give it everything you’ve got on the field.”
I sized Ty Miller up, trying to decide which one of us would win in a fight. I did that a lot with other members of the team. He was a little bit shorter than me, and probably leaner, but he had speed and agility on his side. I wasn’t fooled by his friendly mannerisms. He might look like an all-American surfer dude with his blond hair and blue eyes, but if he’d been a first-round draft pick, the guy was tough.
I’d watched his college career. He was nearly flawless.
“I get it,” he replied as he took a seat on the cold bench. “I don’t want to play football forever, but I need it right now.”
I sat my ass down on the other side of the bench. “It’s all I have,” I said defensively.
“So I guess we understand each other,” Ty answered. “I’ll catch the balls if you put them into my range.”
His statement was kind of like a promise. “I’ll put them in the right place,” I agreed.
He nodded. “So now that we have that out of the way, what else is on your mind?”
“Not a damn thing,” I lied.
“Bullshit,” he said.
“You don’t know anything about me,” I said angrily.
“Now seems like a good time to get to know you. My career is going to be partially dependent on how well you throw.”
“If I get the balls there, why in the hell do you care about anything else?”
“I’m curious,” he said calmly. “You’re a guy with a reputation. I want to know if you deserve it.”
“Everything is true. I was a dick in New England, and I haven’t changed much.”
“Changing is your choice,” he mentioned casually. “You can either be part of a team, or you can continue to be an asshole. I just want to know which one I’m getting before practice starts.”
His candidness threw me off-balance, but I respected a guy who spoke the truth.
I thought about what Lauren had said about this being a new start for me, but I wasn’t sure how to make things different with the Wildcats.
“I’m not a team player,” I admitted grudgingly. “I’ve learned not to count on anybody except myself. It’s safer.”
“You want to get to the playoffs?” he asked.
“I want more than that. I want a damn Super Bowl ring and the bonus that goes along with it.” My contract was going to include a seven figure bonus for winning the Super Bowl.
“No team gets there when they’re disconnected,” Ty observed. “I’m not saying you have to kiss anybody’s ass. But you need to think about the big picture. Super Bowl teams are organized. The guys get to know each other well enough to anticipate what another player is going to do. Plus, they have to outsmart the other team.”
“Mental toughness is just as important as communication,” I pointed out.
“Agreed. But we’re all going to have to get along to some extent. If you want the Super Bowl, everything has to gel.”
I frowned. “Then I’ll make it gel.”
“You can’t control the behavior of everybody else on the Cats. But you can start by being an example.”
Damned if he didn’t sound like Lauren. “What in the hell was your major in college?”
He hesitated for a moment before he answered, “Neuroscience. Once my football career is over, I’d like to be able to go back to school without worrying about money. I’m continuing my studies here, but I want a doctorate so I can do research. I get off on how the brain works.”
“Jesus. Just what I need is another Dr. Freud,” I grumbled.
“What?”
I shook my head. “Nothing. You just remind me of a friend.”
“Is that good or bad? Tell me it’s not the dude who just screwed your fiancée.”
“It’s a female friend. She’s gifted. Twenty-two years old and she has a doctorate in physics, and a degree in psychology.”
“Is she single?” he asked enthusiastically. “I have a thing for smart women. Hey, it’s not the woman who broke all the age records for college studies, is it? I’ve heard about her. Sounds like the same person. She lives here in Colorado. I’d love to meet her.”
My head turned sharply to give him a dirty look. “Don’t even think about it,” I warned.
It didn’t matter that I’d walked out on Lauren. She wasn’t fucking one of my teammates. It would destroy me.
Ty put a hand up as he said, “Hey, I didn’t mean anything by that. I do like smart women, but I don’t tread on a friend’s territory. I take it she’s more than a friend?”
I didn’t know how to answer his question, so I was silent for a minute before I said, “We’ve known each other since we were kids. Her brother slept with my fiancée.”
“Shit, man. That’s complicated.”
“You have no idea,” I responded.
Ty stood. “Let’s go get some lunch and talk about it. I’m starving.”
I was grateful for the reprieve, but I didn’t usually hang out with other guys on my team. And I wasn’t sure I wanted to start now.
Ty was too damn introspective, and I wasn’t the type of person to analyze myself when I didn’t have to. I was too afraid of what I’d discover.
“It’s just lunch, dude,” he said as he folded his arms in front of him. “It’s not like I’m asking for a lifelong friendship.”
Ty was right. “No talk about Lauren,” I insisted as I stood up. “She’s off-limits.”
“Fine,” he said with humor in his voice. “Then I’ll pick your brain about other stuff.”
“No brain picking,” I said irritably. “Can’t we just fucking eat?”
He grinned. “I’m talented. I can do both at the same time.”
Smart-ass!
We both grabbed our stuff and picked up our athletic bags. “Then you can tell me about your life,” I rumbled. “I don’t want to talk about mine.”
I turned around and started walking, letting him fall into step beside me.
We were almost to the parking lot before I stopped.
Ty halted beside me. “You know that guy coming toward us?” he asked, his tone wary.
I knew exactly who it was. I’d stopped because I didn’t really want to talk to him, but his determined stride didn’t falter, so he kept getting closer and closer.
It was Jack.
“Fuck! I don’t want to talk to that bastard,” I rasped.
“Then don’t,” Ty suggested calmly. “Is he cool?”
I knew he was asking if Jack was going to start any trouble.
“He’s not looking for a fight,” I answered. “He’s the one who slept with my fiancée.”
Jack obviously wanted to talk about what happened. He’d called me several times. More than likely, he wanted to explain—unless he’d found out that I’d screwed Lauren.
I found that highly unlikely.
“That’s him?” Ty asked, his voice rougher than I’d heard it since we’d met.
“Unfortunately,” I confirmed.
Jack stopped right in front of me. Shit, I didn’t want to hit him, but I knew I wasn’t going to be able to stop myself.
Just the sight of him had me in a rage that had nothing to do with him messing with Hope and everything to do with his betrayal.
Jack had been all I had, the only male friend I’d ever trusted for as long as I could remember, and the asshole had just thrown that friendship away for a blow job.
“I got this,” Ty said, his tone dangerous.
Turns out, I didn’t need to beat the shit out of Jack. Ty pushed me aside, drew his arm back, and then hit Jack with so much power that he laid him out on the ground with one punch.
“We’re done here,” Ty said calmly, like he hadn’t just punched a guy hard enough for his brains to scramble. “I’m starving. Let’s go.”
I looked at Jack, his face bleeding, but looking like he was about to recover. He was moving. He was breathing. I guess that was all I really needed to know.
Ty was already making his way to his truck when I finally started to walk again.
Son-of-a-bitch!
“Why in the hell did you do that?” I asked Ty as I caught up with him.
He shrugged. “You were hesitating. You were obviously conflicted. I wasn’t.” He hesitated before he added, “I want you healthy for the season, and I don’t want you landing in jail. Our backup quarterback sucks.”
I wasn’t used to anybody helping me out, so I wasn’t sure what to say.
“Thanks,” I answered simply.
He acknowledged my gratitude with a nod, and we didn’t talk about it again for the rest of the day.