Derek sits up straighter in his chair, eyes alight with excitement. “That would be amazing.”
“Okay then, man, I’ll hook you up.”
A noxious smell fills the room, and I look down at Beau, who’s lying on the floor.
“I think that’s my cue to leave.” I stand and look at Derek. “Where would you like the tickets sent?”
Derek rises and holds out his hand, and I grip it in mine. “If you could get them sent here, that would be great. Blaise! Colt has to go,” yells Derek.
Blaise runs back into the room, his face screws up as he smells the gas leaking from Beau’s butt.
“Ewww! Who did that?” shrieks Blaise.
“I told you Beau can’t eat pizza.”
SKYE
Today’s the day for my official hearing at the school. I’m sitting in a hallway, and I feel like I’m on trial for murder. The door to the office opens, I look up, and Derek Geyser is there.
“Hello, Skye.”
“Hello, Derek, come to wave me off?” I ask caustically.
Derek flinches and has the decency to look embarrassed and then down at the floor. “I, ahh…” his hand goes to the back of his neck, and he continues, “… I came to tell them I was in pretty bad shape when I sent the email, and I wish I hadn’t done it.” Derek lets his hand drop and meets my gaze. “I am sorry, Skye. About everything.”
I’m annoyed with him, and forgiveness isn’t going to come easily. “Thank you.”
I want to rage at him, tell him he ruined everything, but I don’t. Instead, I give him a tight-lipped smile and say nothing.
“Will we see you at the game?” asks Derek.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, Colt got Blaise and me fifty-yard tickets, so I thought…” he trails off, obviously by the look on my face, he knows not to continue.
I stand, square my shoulders, and look him in the eye. “Colt hasn’t rung me in weeks. My guess is he’s moved on. I suppose I have you to thank for that as well?” Derek blanches and takes a step back. “I do hope you and Blaise have a lovely time, though. Perhaps you could tell Colt I said hello? Now, if you don’t mind, Mr. Geyser, I’d like to be alone.”
Derek nods and practically runs from the building. I must say I feel a certain amount of satisfaction at seeing his discomfort.
The door to the office opens again, and I see Tony Wilson, the principal, staring at me.
“Skye, if you’d like to come in?”
“Certainly, Mr. Wilson,” I reply.
In the room are eight members of the board, all of who I know by name. Not one of them can look me in the eye, so I’m guessing they’ve come to a conclusion. I clear my throat and look at each of them in turn. Projecting my voice, so each and every one of them can hear what I say.
“It has been my pleasure to work at this school. I’ve enjoyed every moment I’ve been here. The faculty, students, and parents have all made this a memorable and soul-satisfying employment. I understand why you’ve called me here today, but my personal life has not been a detriment to the school, but more a beneficial one. After all, if Mr. Anders had not entered my life, then the school wouldn’t be getting a new drama wing—”
“That’s not why we are here, Skye.”
“Excuse me, Mr. Wilson, I would appreciate it if you address me correctly, and is it not the very reason we are here?”
“Miss Hadley…” Tony pauses and looks down the line at the board members, all of whom to me look like they want the ground to open up and swallow them whole. “The matter we are here to discuss is your conduct. The way in which we conduct ourselves is a reflection on the school. You, yourself, admitted to me that it was you in the newspaper with Mr. Anders who was wearing nothing but a… smile.” I feel my face heat at the mention of the article. “You did sign an agreement with us when you began your employment as did all of the staff here. What makes you think you are any better than the rest of us?”
Dammit. As much as I feel like I’m the brunt of a witch hunt, he’s right, but it doesn’t mean I have to like it.
“Does that mean, Mr. Wilson, that you and the board are not going to accept Mr. Anders’ generous gift?”
“As I have already stated, Miss Hadley, that isn’t why we are here.”
In a last-ditch effort to keep my job, I ignore Tony completely and address the board. “All of you know me. You know I’m dedicated, and I love my position here. All I ask is you remember that before you make any decision. I am willing to take a leave of absence and go abroad for a time if it will help keep my position here.”
My throat closes, and I fear the tears which are gathering may fall.
The oldest member of the board, Mrs. White, stands. She’s always been a formidable figure with her steel-gray hair which is pulled up into a tight chignon. Today her suit is charcoal with a red silk shirt underneath. “Miss Hadley, no decision has yet been made. We will take what you’ve said into consideration, and thank you for your time.” Mrs. White offers me the barest of smiles and with a head tilt, indicating I should proceed to the door.
Not wanting to embarrass myself further, I nod and leave.
The privacy of my car allows me to let the tears I was holding in overflow. A knock at my door causes me to look up, and standing next to my car is the last person I thought would be here, Colton Anders. Humiliated, I dry my tears and wind down the window.
“The meeting didn’t go well?” asks Colt as he kneels beside the driver’s door.
I stare straight ahead and nod.
“Skye, I’m so sorry. I wish things had turned out differently.”
“Me, too.” I force myself to smile and look over at him. “I-I haven’t heard from you.” To my own ears, I sound pathetic. Colt winces, and I instantly wish I could take it back. To cover up his obvious discomfort, I babble on, “Well, must be going, lots to do. Have an awesome game. Derek said he and Blaise will be at the game this weekend. I hope—”
“You spoke to Derek?”
“Ahh… yes. He came to talk to the board for me.”
Colt smiles, and my heart melts. “Damn! He said he would. I’m glad.”
“You and Derek had a conversation about me?”
“He apologized and said he wanted to make amends, he’s been different since he got out of rehab. Derek’s even managed to get himself a job. He is trying hard to prove he’s changed.”
It’s then I take in Colt’s appearance. Dark suit, white shirt, and a red tie with black and white stripes going through it. He, of course, looks to die for, and I realize he’s here for me too.
“You’re here to talk to the board?” I ask incredulously.
Colt grins at me which sets my heart fluttering and my core throbbing. “Yes, sugar, I’m here for you, too.”
My father taught me to be a strong, independent woman, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to lean on someone who hasn’t been there for me.
“Well, that’s very nice of you…” I start my car, put it in reverse, and look at him, “… finally.” With that, I back it out of the parking spot.
“Skye, come on! Don’t leave it like this.”
I stop and look at him. “The ball’s been in your hands for far too long. You fumbled it when you should have been holding on tight.”
“A football metaphor, really?”
“Seems to me it’s the only thing you understand. ‘Cause, Colt, you sure as hell don’t understand me.”
I put the car in drive and floor it kicking up pebbles. Glancing back in the rearview mirror, I see his form reflected there, arms up in the air, asking me something I can’t hear.
Colt has left a dozen messages on my phone and texts pleading with me to call him back.
He misses me.
He’s sorry.
He wishes he’d handled things better.
As much as I miss him, I need him to suffer for a while, but my heart is lighter knowing he does care.
After a day, I call him back, and he answer
s on the first ring.
“Skye?”
“Hey, Colt.”
“Tell me I haven’t screwed this completely. Tell me we can work this out, sugar?”
He sounds so sincere, I feel the ice I’ve put around my heart melt.
“I’d like that, Colt.”
“Great. Great! Can I come over?”
And as quickly as it melted, it freezes back over. “You want to come over, now?”
“I’ve missed you.”
Not the three little words I was looking for.
I’ve missed you equals booty call.
I know at the beginning it may have started like that, but I sure as hell thought it was more than that.
“Colt Anders, if you think for one minute you can tell me you miss me, then invite your ass over to my bed, and I’ll let you, then you’ve got another think coming!”
“Sugar, that’s not what I meant. Calm down. I thought we could talk. That’s all. If it’ll make you happy, we can do that right now… on the phone.”
With doubt still in my voice, I say, “What do you want to talk about?”
“I spoke to the board. I told them I wouldn’t pull my funding for the new wing at the school, but I hoped they’d reconsider your position. Although I couldn’t stop it now if I tried, the whole project has become larger than life. The league is involved, contractors, honestly… the kids are going to love it.”
“It was nice of you to talk to the board. Not that I think it will do much good. I think they have pretty much made up their minds.”
“I don’t know about that. I spoke to Mrs. White afterward, and she seemed to be on the fence. She was grateful I’d gotten everyone together to help with the funding. Apparently, she’s been trying to organize a fundraiser for a long time but with little success. I told her if it wasn’t for you, it wouldn’t have happened at all.”
“But that’s a lie, Colt. I never had anything to do with all of that.”
“In part, it’s true, sugar… because if I hadn’t have met you, I wouldn’t have met Blaise, and it would never have happened.”
The ice melts again, and I find myself saying, “I’ve missed you, too.”
Colt’s familiar chuckle filters down the line. “I’m glad. How about I come see you after the weekend? How does Tuesday sound? We could go out to dinner?”
There’s a hint of desperation in his voice, and I like it.
“I’d like that. See you then.”
Deciding I can’t wait until Tuesday, I buy myself a ticket to Sunday night’s game. The only ones left are high in the stands, so I don’t have a great view. I wanted to surprise Colt, so I didn’t tell him I was coming, but Gray knows. Gray has arranged for me to get close to the locker room at the end of the game with a press pass. I’m excited, and the atmosphere in the stands is electric. The fans are dressed in their favorite team’s colors. Of course, I’m wearing a Warriors jersey and a pair of blue jeans.
I’m so far up in the stands, there aren’t that many people around me. Gray offered to get me better tickets, but it didn’t seem right after he had already gotten me the press pass. The teams run out of the field, and I look for Colt’s number. The crowd roars to life as they run out. Thankfully, they have huge screens which make it easier for fans to see what’s going on. The camera pauses on Colt, who looks determined, his mouth is set in a hard line.
Over the speakers, the booming voice of a local artist sings the national anthem, and the camera catches the different players singing along. My hair is annoying me, so I put it into a ponytail, securing it out of the way, so I can get a good view of the field and the screens.
Another family sits near me—mom, dad, a boy, and a girl—all dressed like me except they have their faces painted in the colors of the Warriors—yellow and blue. I smile broadly at them, and they all smile back.
The enthusiasm of the family as they cheer on the Warriors rubs off on me, and I find myself cheering with them. Unfortunately, the other team is ahead by two points. As the game goes on, it looks like the Warriors are going to lose as they can’t seem to best the other team no matter what they do.
There are five minutes left in the game, the Warriors have the ball. Nervous energy is building within the crowd. If they make this pass, they will win the game. My hair is annoying me, so I pull on the rubber band which secures my hair and shake it out.
The family in front of me laugh and point at the big screen, my face is staring back at me as I shake out my hair. It looks kind of like one of those shampoo commercials when the model is trying to appear sexy.
I’m slightly embarrassed.
When the camera goes back to Colt, he looks angry, and then the final whistle blows, ending the game.
COLT
There are five minutes left in the game. I’m waiting for the ball to be passed to me from Jones, the center. If I make this, we will win, so I can’t fuck it up. I hear the plays being yelled out, I look up and see Skye’s face on the big screen as she shakes her hair around her shoulders. Momentarily confused and distracted by her, I miss the pass, it flies right by me, then I’m tackled hitting the ground hard.
What the fuck?
Was that Skye?
I’m still on the ground. I can hear the crowd either cheering or booing. Gray’s helmet-clad face fills my vision as the horn signals the end of the game.
Fuck! I missed the pass! We’ve lost.
Gray moves over me and holds out his hand, pulling me to my feet. I look at the other players, some are staring at me with total disgust and others are avoiding my gaze altogether. I glance at Gray who shakes his head, lightly punches my shoulder, and jogs off the field.
I trail behind my teammates. I’m the last off the field, and my agent, Tom, is there to greet me.
“Shake it off! You’ll do better next time.”
I shake my head, undo the chin strap, and pull my helmet off. I’ve let everyone down, and as we round the corner, it feels like a million lights flash in my face as question after question is fired at me. I look above the crowd and see Skye at the back. She looks worried, nervous, concerned, and I realize she’s the reason I missed the pass.
“Colt! Wasn’t that your latest love interest on the big screen? Are you so in love you missed the ball?” yells out a reporter from CNN.
The crowd laughs, and Tom grabs the mic. “Colt, here, is a dedicated member of the New England Warriors, he has no interest in some would-be fangirl he met in a bar. I can assure you she means little to him, and it did not affect his game on the field. It was just one of those things.”
My head whips to the side, and I glare at Tom. If I could fire lasers out of my eyes, he’d be dead. I look up to where Skye was sitting, and she’s gone.
Tom waves at the media and pushes me toward the locker room and away from prying eyes.
As soon as we get through the doors, I explode, “What the fuck was that?”
“That is what you pay me for. That is keeping you a favorite for the media, fans, and your fucking teammates. You are a professional fucking football player, and I need you to act like it! Clearly, this woman is no good for you. You’re playing like shit.”
I blanch at his words, they cut more deeply than they should. All my anger seeps out of me, and I’m nodding as I let what he’s said settle into my bones.
You’re playing like shit.
And I know it’s true.
Ever since Skye and I hit a rocky patch, I’ve been off my game. I can feel myself nodding, I’m in my head, ignoring everyone around me. I can see Tom’s lips moving, I can see my teammates looking at me with disappointment, and when Coach Stevens walks into the room, it’s more than I can bear. I thrust my helmet into Tom’s hands, open my locker, slam it shut and stalk out.
When I hit the parking lot, I’m greeted with yells and disparaging comments. I don’t let anyone stop me. I get in my car and head for home. I need time to process what the fuck just happened, and I need to get myself right for the next gam
e.
That’s all that matters.
SKYE
With Colt’s agent’s words ringing in my ears, I ran from the stadium. In my haste to get to my car, I fell and scraped my knee through my jeans and took the skin off both palms, but the pain of that is nothing compared to my shattered heart. The angry look on Colt’s face, and the fact he didn’t say anything to deny the comments, crushed me.
I have no idea how I have gotten home. The whole drive was done on autopilot.
When I pull into my driveway, I wake up as though I was in a trance. Stumbling out of the car and into my home, I close the door and lean against it. Glancing down at my jeans, my left leg feels wet, and the material has a darker patch there.
It’s then the physical pain begins to throb. Limping into the bathroom, I strip off, only leaving my underwear on and take stock of my injuries. The skin on my knee has been pulled back, and blood is running down my leg. With tentative fingers, I push the skin back down, wincing at the pain. I lean heavily on the vanity, waiting for the pain to subside a little. My phone begins to ring. It’s in my jeans pocket, so I bend over and pull it out, the number not being one I recognize, but I answer it anyway.
“Hello?” My voice sounds alien to me, husky and full of pain.
“Skye?”
“Yes,” I reply as more tears run down my face.
“Skye, it’s Grayson Moore.”
“Now is not a good time, Gray.”
“Where are you?”
I look at my hand and see I have something embedded in the heel of my palm. My voice comes out strangled as I think of a way to remove it. “I… I’m at h-home.”
“Okay, I’m nearly there.”
Absently, I wonder how he even knows where I live. I nod into the phone and realize he can’t see me. “It’s okay, Gray, y-you don’t have to c-come over.”
“Skye, I’m here. Come… open your door.”
“I, ahh… I can’t right now. But I don’t think I locked the door.”
I hear the front door open, then Gray yells out, “Skye?”
Tackling Love: A Sports Romance (Tackling Romance Series Book 1) Page 10