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The Play Maker (The Sideline Series Book 1)

Page 16

by L. M. Carr


  He pins me in the corner, then clutches my jaw painfully, slamming my back against the wall. I raise my hand to strike him, but that, too, is restrained.

  “No one walks away from me.”

  The hold on my face constricts as his mouth smashes against mine. The smell of alcohol permeates my nose, and the taste of whiskey burns my lips when he plunges his rough tongue into my mouth.

  I desperately move my head from side to side, causing his lips to slip from me. Disgusted, I fight harder. When he releases my wrist and reaches down between my legs, I shove the heel of my palm into the side of his head repeatedly until he pulls back.

  “So like it rough, do you?”

  “Get off me!” I bellow, still trying to get away from him

  Using a knee, he widens my stance as both hands reach down my body and lift the hem of my dress, exposing my thighs.

  My hands now free, I pummel his face repeatedly until he finally steps back. He lifts a hand and wipes his face, checking for blood.

  “You just made the biggest mistake of your life,” he growls.

  Panting, I struggle to calm my heart and my nerves. My eyes remained fixed on him. Despite having his gaze on me, it feels as though he’s looking beyond me, his eyes glazed over and distant.

  I drag my eyes away to look at the panel of numbered circles. The highest buttons are all illuminated, and I mentally curse the prepubescent children for their childish act. The elevator continues to ascend, the rising tension growing in the small space.

  The moment the doors open, I shove him away and swiftly move out of the elevator and down the hall. With a quick glance over my shoulder, I confirm that I am not being followed and release a sigh of relief, slowing my steps.

  The corridor is quiet as I walk toward the stairwell. Pushing the door open, I grab my phone from my bag and call Julian. Frustration rivals the agitation running rampant through my body when I reach his voicemail.

  Rushing to get to my brother, I run down the steps, freezing when the sound of labored breathing comes up the stairs. The blood in my veins turns to ice when I think Ed Asher may have gotten off the elevator and is searching for me, so I tap the screen and call Rence. I growl softly when his voicemail picks up.

  Debating, I find the courage to face the devil head-on and run down the stairs, intending to barrel right past him. I round the corner and continue down until the sound of panting draws closer.

  I grip the railing, swing myself around the corner and lead with my shoulder…

  BAM!

  “What the fuck?” an angry voice demands as he reaches out to grasp my arms, steadying me.

  I look up and into a familiar face, his caramel-colored skin coated in sweat. “Alonzo?”

  “AJ?” He tugs the earbuds from his ears. Searching my face, he furrows his brows. “You okay? Why are you in such a hurry?”

  Grateful for his presence, I throw my arms around his neck and squeeze, ignoring the sweat dripping down his shirtless torso.

  “Girl, what’s wrong with you? You’re shaking like crazy!”

  I swallow thickly. “I was—” I stop. For as well as I know Alonzo, sharing one night of passion with him, I’m not willing to provide the sordid details of my horrible encounter with Ed Asher.

  I blow out a breath. “I’m claustrophobic,” I fib. “I guess I panicked and needed to get out as quickly as I could.”

  Alonzo pulls me against his chest and rubs my back. “You’re all right, baby. I’ve got you.”

  I rest my head against his chest, his heart pounding under my ear, my fingers gripping his back.

  Several moments tick by as my adrenaline subsides and fear diminishes.

  I pull back and look up to find hazel eyes staring down at me. I smile and sigh a quiet, “Thank you.”

  After moistening his lips, Alonzo returns the smile. My eyes move to his mouth. I immediately repress the memory of his tongue on my body.

  He slowly inches toward me and presses his lips to mine, his tongue seeking entry, his hand lowering to the small of my back pulling me closer.

  Coming to my senses, remembering where we are, I pull back. I shake my head as confusion blurs my mind. He appears almost as surprised as I do.

  “What was that?” I chuckle nervously.

  Alonzo shakes his head in disbelief and takes a step down, putting us at eye level. “Girl, I don’t know! You looked like you wanted me to kiss you, so I did.”

  I slap his chest lightly. “I did not. I was scared and you kissed me!”

  As if I were at an amusement park, my emotions swing around and around. I just want to get off the ride. From being assaulted by Ed Asher to being kissed by Alonzo Richie, I don’t know how much more I can take.

  The rumble of laughter radiating from his chest causes a smile to stretch across my face.

  “Why were you running up the stairs anyway?”

  “I just finished at the gym and wanted to get in a few more minutes of cardio.” He flexes his pecs, making me place my hands on my hips and pinch my lips together, perusing his body as if looking for flaws.

  “Like you need to do that.”

  “You know me. Always trying to improve my game. I’ll do whatever it takes to be the best.”

  “I think you’re as good as the rest of them put together.”

  His eyebrows shoot up, a smirk on his face.

  “On the field, Alonzo! I was talking about on the field.”

  His laughter echoing in the stairwell, my cell phone rings. I reach into my bag to retrieve it, extremely grateful when I see Julian’s name on the screen.

  “Julian MacIntyre?” Alonzo asks, looking at my phone and glancing at me curiously.

  My eyes flick to his. Unwilling to discuss my personal relationship with anyone, I shrug and decline the call. “Yeah. It’s no big deal. I’ll call him back.”

  “Are you close with him?” Alonzo asks, his posture one of interest as he smiles.

  I choose my words carefully, not wanting to reveal too much information. Despite my job in the spotlight, I relish my privacy. Unless someone digs deep, they won’t find out about Julian and me since we broke up before his career flourished.

  “I’ve known him for years. He and my brother used to be friends.”

  He nods slowly. “There’s been some talk he’s trying to get Rence to go with him to Houston. He wants to build a championship team.”

  “So I’ve heard.”

  Alonzo tilts his head, looking at me with hope in his eyes. He hesitates before saying, “Maybe… Maybe you can put in a good word for me.”

  A strained smile emerges at the idea of doing such a thing. I would never take advantage of my relationship with Julian to help someone further his or her career. “You don’t need my help,” I counter, touching his arm. I figure a bit of flattery might ease the blow of my rejection. “You’re Alonzo Richie. If they’re smart, they’ll snatch you up!”

  “You didn’t!” he says with a smirk.

  Unsure if there are feelings behind his words, I shrug casually. “Life’s all about timing. Ours came and went…no pun intended,” I chuckle, briefly remembering the night I ended up in his bed.

  “We should grab dinner next time you’re out west.”

  “I’ll call you,” I say, knowing even if I hadn’t just reconciled with Julian, hooking up with Alonzo is something I would never do again.

  Shifting to the side to skirt around me, he takes a step and gazes down at me, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “See you at the game tomorrow?”

  “Absolutely. I’m covering it.” I smile at him and slide my hand along the railing, making my way down the stairs.

  Alonzo leans over the railing and calls out, “Cool! Make sure you guys give me some airtime!” His light laughter conceals his confidence

  Chuckling, I glance up at him. “Make some big plays and maybe I’ll mention them.”

  I continue down the stairs until I reach the fifth floor. My hand freezes on the door handle, deb
ating whether now is the right time to confront Rence. The last fifteen minutes have been quite an emotional roller coaster, and I don’t know if I can handle another ride.

  I inhale a deep breath, yank the door open and step through, taking a quick left toward the elevator. I continue walking when I hear my brother’s unmistakable laughter. It’s a deep belly rumble that elicits laughter from those around him. As kids, one glance across the dinner table and we would explode with amusement, much to our mother’s chagrin. Our friends used to call it “Hamilton Happy”. Little did they know the laughter hid the pain we felt on a daily basis.

  “Rence?” I call out.

  Just as I reach the elevator, the doors start to slide shut. For a split second, I actually consider sticking my hand in to halt the closing of the doors when I see my brother standing there, eyes wide, his arm around the shoulders of a petite woman with flaming red hair.

  I grit my teeth and dig my phone out of my bag to call Rence. As expected, it goes to voicemail.

  “What is going on with you?” I demand on his voicemail. “Where have you been? I’ve been trying to get in touch with you! And who’s that redhead? Please tell me you didn’t hook up with another cheerleader. Call me!”

  I end the call as several people stop in front of the elevator. I slap on a tight smile to the three men in blue-and-white apparel, then the newlyweds wearing matching t-shirts, one saying She said yes! and the other saying I said yes!

  “Congratulations,” I say as we wait for the elevator. “When’s the big day?”

  “We got married on the beach last night. It was incredible,” she recalls dreamily, tightening her arm around the groom.

  He smiles at her and kisses the top of her head.

  When the elevator doors open, I step in, the woman continuing. “We broke up for a while, but it seems true love found its way home.”

  The husband finally speaks, his voice smooth. “It took some time, but I eventually found my way back to her.”

  A smile emerges as I ponder the similarity between their story and mine. A warm feeling tugs at my heart knowing that Julian’s come back to me.

  When the doors open again, I wish them well as they walk off, then look at the three men whose eyes have been pinned on me the entire ride.

  “You guys have fun,” I say with a grin as we all step out of the elevator. “Let’s see how well your Cowboys fare against Houston next season.”

  “Are you kidding me?” the taller of the three asks with a shake of his head. “They don’t have a chance against our offense.”

  I shrug. “I hear MacIntyre’s building a great team. We’ll just have to wait and see.”

  “No way! We picked up a wide receiver and might be getting Hamilton on defense. That guy’s unstoppable.”

  His friend contests the statement. “I’m not so sure. Something’s not right with that guy.”

  Hearing someone badmouth my brother doesn’t sit well with me. They only see the football player. They don’t know Rence personally. But as much as I want to defend him, I don’t. There will always be people who spread half-truths and rumors.

  I start down the hall and look over my shoulder. “Guess we’ll have to wait and see. Bye, guys.”

  “By the way, that was a really nice spread in Maxim. Will we see you again?” the taller guy asks with a roguish grin, his eyes filling with lust.

  My life’s regret slaps me in the face as I quickly decide how to reply. Why I ever agreed to be featured half-naked in provocative positions is beyond me. It was a decision I made without considering the ramifications. At the time, my only thought was to show Julian what he was missing. I knew he would see the spread, along with everyone else in America, but I didn’t care. It was a time in my life when I was consumed with reckless abandon.

  Unable to produce a reasonable response, I ignore him and walk to the door, sliding in the keycard. Slamming it shut, I press my back against the door, blocking out the rest of the world for just a few minutes. I slide down to the floor and drop my head between my knees, taking deep, slow breaths.

  The sound of the shower running and music playing reveal Julian’s presence. I wage an internal battle. Should I tell him what happened with Ed Asher? Or Alonzo Richie? One a powerhouse in the industry, the other a potential player on his team. A million questions circulate around my brain, all leading to a terrible outcome.

  “Hey.”

  I snap my head up to find him standing there with a white towel wrapped around his waist, beads of water on his chest, a look of confusion on his face. “What are you doing on the floor?”

  My emotions rise and my chin quivers as I press the heel of my palms into my eyes, trying desperately not to cry.

  Julian rushes over and kneels in front of me, pulling my hands away from my face and gathering me in his arms, holding me against his wet torso. “Addison, talk to me,” he demands softly, concern lacing his voice as a gentle hand smooths over my hair. He places a kiss on the top of my head. “What happened?”

  “It’s my fault. I was so fucking stupid,” I blurt out, the tears springing from my eyes, blurring my vision. “If I hadn’t…”

  Julian pulls away and cups my chin, raising it. “If you hadn’t what?”

  “Been so stupid and irresponsible.”

  “Baby, what are you talking about?” His concern grows as his thumb wipes away tears falling down my cheek. “Whatever happened, we’ll deal with it…together.”

  My hand rises and coils around the nape of his neck, placing a soft kiss on his throat.

  With one swift scoop, Julian picks me up and cradles me against his body, carrying me to the bed. He sits down on the edge with me still in his lap.

  “Ed Asher assaulted me in the elevator.”

  His body tenses. “What?” His voice lowers as he growls menacingly, “I’ll kill that son of a bitch.”

  I tell him about what happened in the lobby, then Ed rushing into the elevator after me.

  “I tried to call you, but it went to voicemail.” I don’t know why I feel the need to point that out. Perhaps I want him to know I needed him and he wasn’t there.

  Anger radiates from every pore and dominates every curse he spits.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  I shake my head. “This isn’t your fault. It’s mine.”

  His eyes narrow. “Asher attacks you, but somehow you think it’s your fault?” The disbelief is clear in his question. “Are you out of your mind?”

  I clear my throat and wiggle out of his hold, standing. “Julian, I did some stupid things when we were apart. Really stupid. I made bad choices and engaged in risky behavior. Maybe men think because they’ve seen my body, they think it gives them the right to touch me.” I shrug. “I don’t know.”

  “That’s fucking bullshit and you know it!” Julian jumps to his feet, grasping my shoulders and bending to look into my eyes. “Listen to me…” His nostrils flare when he inhales, trying to calm himself. “I don’t give a shit what you did when we were apart. No one has the right to put their hands on you.”

  “But my reputation—”

  “What about it? You think people pay attention to what happened yesterday? Everybody who matters lives in the present, not the past.”

  Moving his hands to my face, he caresses it with his thumbs. “You are an award-winning sports reporter. You’re one of the best at what you do…and happen to look incredibly gorgeous standing on the sidelines.” His smile reaches his eyes.

  I release a heavy sigh and lean in. “Thank you.”

  “Let me get dressed, then I’ll go with you.”

  “With me? Where?”

  “To file a police report.”

  I know how these things go. A report will be filed, there will be an investigation, and Ed Asher will deny my claim. It’ll be my word against his. The last thing I want is my personal life back in the spotlight.

  “I’m not going to the police, Julian. You and I both know nothing will ever come out of it.”


  His jaw clenches. “You are going to the police!”

  “No, I’m not!”

  His eyes darken and he steps back, throwing his hands in the air. “This is fucking insane! This asshole attacks you and you’re not going to do anything about it?”

  “What am I supposed to do? He’s a giant in this industry!”

  “Doesn’t matter!”

  I reach for him and grab his arm. “Julian, please. Let me do this my way.”

  He wraps his arms around me on a sigh. “Baby, when you change your mind, I’ll be right here.”

  I exhale sharply and nod, murmuring, “Okay.”

  He kisses my forehead.

  “I’m going to shower. What time is dinner?”

  He blinks at me. “You still want to go?”

  “Of course. It sounds like fun. Besides, I’m not going to let that bastard ruin my night.” I strip out of the polo dress that has my network logo embroidered just above the left breast.

  “Are you sure? I could cancel or reschedule for when we get back to Houston,” he suggests.

  I love his consideration, but this is a great opportunity to recruit some good players. I don’t want to jeopardize that.

  “Absolutely not.” I smile. “I may need a martini or two, but I’ll be fine.” My face falls and my hand flies to my mouth. “Shit, Julian. I’m sorry.”

  “Addison, I’m not against alcohol,” he states quietly. “It’s more about hating the person I was when I drank. I don’t ever want to put myself in that position again. Like you, I also have regrets, but I don’t let them define me.”

  I stride back to him, throw my arms around his neck and kiss his lips, hard. “You’re pretty amazing.”

  His smiles and murmurs, “I know.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Julian’s catcall catches me off guard when I emerge from the bathroom wearing a short, strapless pink dress and peep-toe pumps.

  “You look amazing,” he breathes out.

  I twirl playfully and run my fingers through my hair, fluffing my long locks. I shrug nonchalantly, smiling coyly. “This ol’ thing?”

  With a few long strides, he stands before me and slides his arms around my waist, splaying his hands across my ass and giving it a little squeeze. “You make me want to bite this again.”

 

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