Taylor had nothing to worry about. Over the next few days, none of the pictures or videos that had been taken that night surfaced on any blogs. She kept acting all cool and distant during the day, but that was fine with me.

I caught her looking at me during practice when I was on the field. She didn’t think I noticed, but I couldn’t notice anything else.

I saw her standing there, arms folded. I saw her talking to a colleague, laughing at some joke. I saw her taking a drink of water.

It was distracting as fuck, thinking about that night. The days wore on, and the first game was coming up faster than anyone realized.

She continued working on my knees, but we also graduated to some back stretches. I had to admit, I was feeling pretty damn good, although I wasn’t sure if it was because of her exercises or if I was just excited to get on the field.

Things were moving on the right track. I was going to play backup to Raylon while they prepped me to take over the bulk of the running duties in the years to come. I was working hard at practice, keeping my fucking head down at night, and taking my therapy with Taylor seriously.

But of course, shit changes fast in life.

I’d never forget that day. I came in early for some damn reason, probably couldn’t sleep. But I found Taylor already working hard at her desk.

She looked up, surprised. “Owen,” she said.

“Nice place,” I said, looking around. I’d never been in the offices before.

“It’s okay.” She leaned back in her chair, her arms crossed—classic closed-off body language. “What can I do for you?”

“You can do a lot for me.”

She pursed her lips. “Not here.”

I looked around. “Nobody else can hear us. Might as well tell me how much you love stretching me out.”

She sighed. “My boss could hear you. Please, you’ll get me in trouble.”

“Okay, okay. Don’t want to get you in trouble.” I nodded back toward the door. “Mind getting our session done early?”

“Sure.” She stood up. “Get it over with.”

I laughed. “Please. It’s the highlight of your day.”

“You wish.”

We headed down to our usual spot and went through the routine. When I was finished, I headed out to the field to join the other guys for warm-ups.

My mind was on her that morning. Maybe it was because I had come in early and flirted with her right off the bat, or maybe it was because she was always on my mind. But either way, I was distracted as we started the drills.

It was just a normal hitting drill. Nothing special. Raylon and I had gone through it a hundred times already and would go through it a thousand more while we played together.

For some reason, though, things didn’t go right that morning. When we did our normal little burst and then slammed into each other, Raylon let out the kind of yelling scream you never wanted to hear on the football field.

He was instantly down on the ground, clutching his knee. I backed off, stunned, as the training staff piled onto the field. Taylor was there, and she gave me a surprised look as people hustled around Raylon.

“What the fuck happened?”

I looked over at Coach Ricky Kelly. “I don’t know,” I said. “Nothing happened. It was routine.”

“Doesn’t fucking look routine. Looks like you blew his knee out.”

“I didn’t, Coach. It was routine.”

He gave me an angry look for a moment. “I hope you’re ready to play, kid,” he said after a second, and then he walked away to check on Raylon.

I stood and watched as the training staff helped him off the field. I ran over that moment in my head over and over again, but from what I could tell it was just a normal drill. I hadn’t done anything wrong or differently.

Maybe it was because I was distracted. Maybe I had fucked Raylon’s leg up because I couldn’t stop thinking about Taylor. Or maybe freak shit happened in life all the damn time, and we just got unlucky as hell.

I’d never know, but my entire life changed in one afternoon.

Practice went on like it usually did. During the midday break, I was leaning up against the goalpost, drinking a cup of water, when Taylor came up to me.

“You okay?” she asked.

I nodded. “Yeah. Fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

“Coach thinks I fucked up Raylon’s knee.”

“I heard him.”

“I didn’t do shit.”

“I know,” she said. “I was watching. It was clean.”

I nodded slowly. “Thanks for saying that.”

“You’re going to start now, you know.”

I grinned at her. “Excited?”

“Nervous, actually.”

“What are you nervous about? I’m the one playing.”

“I’m the one trying to make sure you don’t wreck your body.”

“Please. I’m a well-oiled machine.”

“We’ll see about that.”

“I can show you just how well-oiled I am later on after practice.”

She cracked a small smile for the first time in days. “We’ll see.”

The coaches called us back to the huddle, and I nodded to her as I trotted back to the guys.

I liked that smile. I wanted to see more of that smile. But I was about to be the starting running back for the Philadelphia Eagles in my damn rookie year, and now I didn’t have time for distractions, at least no more distractions than I already had in my way-too-complicated life.

Even a distraction as sweet as Taylor.