Goal (Completion #6)

by Holly S. Roberts

  I laugh harder.

  “This isn’t my fault,” Jordan tries to explain.

  Bobby comes to her rescue. “It’s not her fault, it’s my dad’s. He thinks these will help you play better.”

  “Yeh, if the team sticks it up their ass,” I say as I laugh like crazy. “Who knows, they could be the luck we’ve needed.”

  “Ignore him, he’s off his meds,” Jordan tells the other guys. “Bobby, we need to take these down.”

  I stand up and intercept Jordan from reaching the far right locker. “No, if Rick Dove wants tampons hanging from the lockers, that’s what he gets.”

  She looks from me to Randy. Randy shrugs. “He’s right.” He sticks out his hand and flicks the tampon above his locker. “This brings a whole new meaning to leaving blood on the field.”

  “No,” Jordan stomps her foot in the cutest way and I crack up even more.

  Another group of players walks in. Grumbling, laughter, and outright teasing commences. Lane swings his arm around her shoulder. “Did anyone ever tell you that those things are the easiest way to clear a room full of men?”

  “I didn’t do it,” she argues. She’s about to lose her shit when Rick Dove strides into the room with the coaches.

  “All done, Dad,” Bobby says with a proud look on his face.

  “Good job, son.”

  Coach Mitchel steps forward. “Were having our meeting in here; gather ’round.”

  We form a large huddle as more players come in. It’s a few minutes before everyone is present. Coach holds his clipboard and goes over what’s expected.

  “Uh, Coach?” one of the newly arriving players asks. “Why are there, umm, feminine napkins hanging from our lockers?”

  Snickers sound from around the room.

  Coach Mitchel hides his face behind his clipboard and answers. “You might try studying up on your feminine hygiene products. Those are tampons, and Rick thinks they might help you play better. He says you can only take them down if you win.”

  I glance over at Jordan’s locker and she hasn’t been left out. I bite my lips to keep from laughing again.

  I turn back when Carter replies to the coach. “If they work, I’ll hang one from my fucking helmet.”

  The tension eases as laughter fills the room. I’m sorry Jordan is embarrassed but really, as a newbie, she’s gotten off lightly when it comes to practical jokes and initiation. Hell, I wish I would have thought of the tampons. This is what happens in the locker room. She’s here because of her hard work. It’s about time the guys starting appreciating it.

  She looks at me with a gleam in her eyes before she addresses the team. “If this doesn’t work, I vote for dildos next week.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Jordan

  My dad, Reg, and Laura walk from the terminal together. I hug my dad first, then Laura, and last Reg while holding back tears. Dwaine, the Pronghorns’ driver, brought me to the airport in a stretch limo. He’s waiting outside for me to call him after we collect the luggage. I know my dad and Reg will travel lightly but Laura brings everything but her bathroom sink. She’s a girly girl from beginning to end.

  I send a text to Dwaine after we have her luggage lined up. We head outside as he rounds the outside corner and pulls to a stop. My trip to the airport was uneventful other than signing a few autographs. I’m mostly accustomed to it now and even carry my own permanent marker at Aiden’s suggestion.

  We’re going out to dinner and Aiden is meeting us. I’ve spoken very little to Reg and Laura about my romantic life. They think I’m too busy. This thing with Aiden is moving along like a whirlwind. At least to my dad and friends we can come out of the closet. Hiding something as monumental as whatever it is between us is wearing me down. I’m not sure we’re fooling anyone when it comes to the team. It’s the media we’re worried about.

  Larry is flying in late tonight and I’m hoping to talk to him about the situation between me and Aiden. If anyone can swing things so they look good, it’s Larry.

  We settle ourselves in the limo and Laura, who is sitting across from me and my dad, goes straight for the jugular. “As soon as we can shake off the men I want to hear all about the guy who slaps your ass on national TV.”

  She has no idea. “You’ll meet Lane and you can ask him yourself.”

  She puts her arm around Reg and pulls him close. “It’s sexy when he does it, but big brother here doesn’t like it.”

  “No, I don’t,” Reg replies and pulls Laura in for a quick kiss. “He should keep his hands to himself.”

  “She needed a heads-up in case you go all alpha on him.”

  Reg isn’t exactly small but the team will wipe the floor with him and he knows it. “There’s nothing going on between me and Lane,” I assure him. “He’s been my rock since moving here and I don’t know if I could have gotten this far without him.”

  Reg looks at my father and I can see him choosing his words carefully. “You say friends, I say tomato.”

  We all laugh because Reg is really a big teddy bear. It gives me the warm fuzzies to know he cares. We make it to the restaurant where Aiden has reservations for a private room in the back. He’s not here yet, so I quickly give his name and we’re shown to a large table. I’m about to sit, when Aiden strolls in. I take a step toward him and he pulls me in for a brief kiss that I wasn’t expecting. The cat is out of the bag and Aiden loops his arm around me as I turn to make introductions.

  “Dad, this is Aiden, who I’ve been telling you about. Aiden, my father, Theodore. He goes by Ted.”

  Everyone stands and Aiden releases me. He steps to my father and shakes his hand. “Sir.”

  “Ted, please,” my father replies in his “I’m meeting the boyfriend for the first time” voice, which is rather stiff.

  I turn to Laura and Reg. Laura gives me a quick death/side-eye glare before she takes Aiden’s hand. “I’m her friend Laura. Jordan is much too good at keeping secrets and I may need to kick her ass later.” The stink eye comes my way again. “I hope that won’t put a damper on our friendship.” She turns back to Aiden and gives him a dreamy look.

  Reg places his hand possessively on her shoulder and shakes Aiden’s hand. “I was worried about this Lane guy but I guess that was a fake pass. I’m Reg. Jordan is like a sister to me,” he tells Aiden, making sure he knows how important I am to him.

  “That’s enough, Reg.” I turn to Laura. “I was planning to order wine and then make the announcement that Aiden and I are privately seeing each other. It’s a secret and can’t leave this room.”

  Laura doesn’t give in and I know her feelings are hurt. “A little warning would have been nice. I just spoke to you two days ago.”

  I lift my hands. “I wanted to tell you in person.”

  “Let’s be seated,” my father interjects.

  I move back to my chair and Aiden sits beside me. He leans in and whispers, “Sorry.” I give him a small grin and whisper, “She’s a handful.”

  “I heard that,” Laura says. “I bought a number nine jersey to wear tomorrow. I might need to go shopping in the morning and buy a new Steelers jersey to wear instead.”

  That was a low blow even for Laura.

  Aiden shakes his head. “Not in this town. If you do, they won’t let you into the skybox I have reserved tomorrow.”

  Laura holds her palm out. “Okay, the skybox is making this better.” She takes a drink of water. “When did the two of you hook up?”

  “Laura!”

  “Honey,” Reg says at the same time.

  “What? Everyone wants to know.”

  “Her father doesn’t,” my dad says as he coughs.

  I turn to Aiden. “Please tell me your parents are coming so I don’t need to hide under the table for the rest of the evening.”

  “Sorry, they had another engagement. Candice—” he glances around the table. “She’s my sixteen-year-old sister. She wasn’t happy to miss tonight’s dinner.”

  I give La
ura a quick glare for being such a bitch. “Candice will give you a run for your money in the complaint department.”

  “Good, then I’ll love her.”

  A waiter saves me from strangling Laura and begins taking orders. Things calm until I excuse myself and go to the restroom. Laura follows. “Aiden fucking Patrickson,” she shouts as soon as she checks to be sure the bathroom is clear. “You’re dating him and didn’t tell me?”

  I go all dreamy-eyed because I know just how to stop her grouching.

  She gives me a quick hug and pulls away. “You’ve got to tell me he’s great in bed. If not, lie.”

  I smile conspiratorially. “I don’t need to lie.”

  Her squeal hurts my eardrums. “Damn girl, he’s hotter in person than on TV. Don’t you dare tell Reg I said this but that man is a walking wet panty advertisement. Ugh,” she groans loudly.

  “What?”

  “Please tell me you’ve bought better underwear?”

  My face heats. “He loves my white panties. Now stop embarrassing me.”

  She shakes her head. “No man loves white panties. With your ass cheeks you need a thong.”

  I walk into a stall and ignore her advice.

  “You know I think you’re gorgeous,” she continues. “But that’s Aiden fucking Patrickson. I thought he only dated supermodels and actresses?”

  I smile at the closed stall door. “What can I say? His taste has improved.”

  “He’s scrumptious.”

  “Poor Reg,” I tease.

  “Don’t worry about him. I’ll give him a wild ride as soon as we’re alone in the hotel room.”

  I cover my ears. “La la la, TMI.”

  “I’m eating dinner with Aiden fucking Patrickson,” she sing-songs.

  I walk out and wash my hands. “I need to ask him if ‘fucking’ is his middle name.”

  She gives me the evil eye. “Don’t think you’ve been forgiven. You gotta give me something to get back on my good side. Come on, just one little detail.”

  “Hmm. Best oral ever.”

  “Oh, God,” she says and fans herself. “I won’t be able to look at his mouth without blushing.”

  I wave her off. “You never blush.”

  She laughs. “Well, what do you want me to say…when I look at his mouth my panties go wet.”

  The girl has no filter. “You’re incorrigible. No wet panties with my man. You have your own to drool over.”

  “Panty drool is a good word for it.”

  “Come on.” I take her hand. “Someone needs to stuff a sock in your mouth.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Aiden

  Meeting Jordan’s father went better than expected. We began talking football when Jordan left for the ladies’ room and he came around quickly. Reg is another story. His mouth stayed in a firm line through most of dinner. The only person who had any luck lightening his demeanor was Laura. Now there’s a scary woman. She had no trouble batting her eyelashes in my direction and making me uncomfortable.

  I drove everyone to the hotel after dinner. The short kiss with Jordan wasn’t nearly enough but her father was watching. “Big game tomorrow, don’t stay up too late,” I whispered in her ear before shaking her dad’s hand. Reg and Laura are staying a few rooms down and will come over to Jordan’s room after they’re settled. I’m heading to my place for beauty sleep before the game. I’m affected by first game jitters as much as I was three years ago and I hope the feeling never leaves.

  I’m in my apartment ten minutes after leaving the hotel. I shoot off a text to Jordan as soon as I’m leaning back against the pillows of my bed.

  Me: *inhales* *exhales* I’m breathing hard because of… stretching.

  Thirty seconds later…

  Jordan: I thought orgasms were against the “night before a game” rules???

  Me: That’s an old wives’ tale.

  Jordan: Where’s your hand?

  Me: On my cock.

  Jordan: Pretend it’s mine and stop making me wet.

  Me: I want you so wet…

  Jordan: Thanks, I’m fidgeting and receiving strange looks from Dad and Reg.

  Me: Reg is jealous.

  Jordan: Reg is madly in love with Laura.

  Me: That girl is creepy.

  Jordan: How’s that stiffy now?

  Me: Gone.

  Jordan: Goodnight!

  Me: I love you

  Me: Goodnight!

  I almost sent the last line before deleting it and retyping it. I have it so fucking bad for this woman. I’ve also never been in love and the sappy feelings I expected just feel…right.

  I fall asleep with a huge smile on my face thinking about Jordan’s lips on my cock.

  ∞∞∞

  Game day.

  The nervous energy fills my gut as soon as I inhale the early morning air and head to the kitchen. I drink down a tall glass of water and start throwing vegetables in the blender for a smoothie. If a ball player tells you they don’t have game day rituals, they’re either lying or they don’t mind losing.

  The Pronghorns might have the worst record in football but my own personal worst came the day I skipped my morning smoothie. I threw three interceptions and we lost the game by our widest spread to date. All home games get a smoothie.

  After swallowing the green puke, I head down to the street for a slow run. The city is quiet at this time on a Sunday morning. I pace myself so I don’t strain anything or tire out. The run is to put my head in the proper zone. Each time thoughts of Jordan spring into my mind, I kick them to the back.

  Focus.

  I check my phone when I’m back in the apartment.

  Killian: Rebecca and I will be staying overnight. Late night dinner following the game?

  Me: Sounds great. I’ll have guests so I’ll make reservations.

  Killian: Sounds good. May the best team win.

  Me: Not a chance in hell. We’re kicking your ass.

  Killian: Bring it.

  There’s nothing from Jordan, so I shoot off a quick message to make sure everyone can come to dinner. I laugh when her reply says she isn’t telling Laura about Killian until they get to the restaurant. I stretch my warm muscles and fight a hard-on because it makes me think of Jordan’s idea of stretching. I take a shower and rub one out, which also relieves some of the internal pressure I feel. It’s only been ninety minutes since I woke up. Late games are hard on the psyche.

  I arrive at the stadium two hours before game time. My locker is set up with a crisp clean number fifteen jersey. Just the sight of it does something to me. Yep, the tampon is still there and I find myself smiling. I take a seat on the bench in front of my locker and grab the game day program to flip through. This is all part of gearing up for what’s to come.

  Ten minutes later, I take another quick shower before putting on my pads, football pants, and jersey. I do all this in silence being sure each buckle and Velcro strap is perfectly tightened. I place my legs in the pants, pull them up and adjust the built-in pads, and lastly pull the strings in front tight, tie them in a bow, double knot the bow, and tuck it under at the waist. In bare feet, I head to the training room to have my ankles taped.

  I receive today’s first glimpse of Jordan. Harry, one of the better prep trainers, is working on her shoulder. Lane is standing beside them. I give Jordan a nod and watch her bite her bottom lip.

  She’s nervous. We all are.

  A kicker has an entirely different pregame ritual, so I leave her in Lane’s capable hands so I can keep my eye on the target and that target is kicking some Scorpions ass today. There’s not a lot of talk. The Pronghorns’ players stay focused. Even Bobby takes it down a level on game days. He walks silently around grabbing towels, checking the gear table, and humming a game day tune quietly.

  After the trainer tapes my ankles, I walk back into the main locker room and grab a new pair of socks from the gear table, as is my tradition. If we win today’s game, these socks will go home, be wash
ed by Carma, and be on my feet before each game of the season. I bypass the sweatbands and other gear ready for the taking. I have my own. I sit back down on my bench and pull on my left sock followed by my left my shoe. Always in this order.

  I sink further into game day mode.

  After walking around in a circle to check that everything is comfortable, I head outside to the green. I need to check the traction of my cleats and get the feel for the grass even when we’re playing at home. I run onto the field and do a few wind sprints before jumping up and down on my toes. A conditioning coach opens up and I head in his direction. I lay on the grass at the sideline while he lifts my right leg, stretches it, works my ankle, bends the leg at the knee, and then goes through the same process on the other side. I stretch my fingers, wrists, and arms while this is taking place.

  When finished, I begin the walk back to the locker room. Jordan is standing at the entrance of the stadium with a slightly green face. I look around. There’s too much of a chance we’ll be caught if I do what I want to do. It’s frustrating because if any lips on this planet need a kiss right now, it’s hers.

  “Can’t kiss you to take that look of terror out of your eyes,” I grumble.

  “Thank you,” Lane says as he walks up to us. “I don’t need to see you kissing another player down here.”

  Jordan ignores him and gives me a faint smile. “Kissing isn’t part of my game day tradition,” she sasses.

  “It was never mine either, but we could try and see if it works,” I tease.

  Her smile disappears. “I’m going to puke,” she says and rubs her stomach.

  Lane looks my way and smirks. “She’ll be okay after the first kickoff. You good?” he asks me.

  “Ready to get out on the field. Are you checking the turf before heading back into the locker room?”

  “Yep, got it covered.” He turns to Jordan. “Come on rookie, you need to stay busy.”

  Jordan gives me a half-assed smile before following Lane onto the field. I wish I could tell her it gets easier. It doesn’t.

  There’s always one teammate’s iPod hooked to the locker room’s sound system that holds the pregame music. For the Pronghorns, that player is Casey Libker our center. “Another Brick in the Wall” by Pink Floyd is playing. It winds down and “I’m Ready,” a rap song by The Diplomats, rocks the room. I’m not one of the players who has earbuds in, spacing everything out with my own music. I like the thumping walls of the locker room on game day and the same tunes in the same order. It’s my countdown to game time.