The Hardest Play

by Teague, A. S.

  I chanced another step in his direction, and this time he didn’t move. “Then maybe it wouldn’t hurt to have someone on your team.” I rested my hand on his pecs, and he winced as though I’d slapped him.

  “You’re killing me,” he groaned.

  “Quinn, please just talk to me. Stop with the lies and just tell me the truth.”

  His gaze suddenly locked with mine. “They’re not lies. I do have a problem.”

  “Yeah, but it’s not with drugs, is it?”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. My problem has always been drugs. Eight years, I’ve been battling addiction.”

  My stomach sank as I considered that maybe I’d been wrong. Maybe this was the truth. Maybe I’d just been too blinded by love—yes, love—to see him for who he truly was. Addiction had cost me one of my best friends and brothers. I couldn’t go through that again, but if what he was saying was true, I’d have no other choice but to let him go. Tears welled in my eyes and my throat burned with regret. “I, uh…Shit. Okay, then.” I dropped my hands. The loss of his warmth sent a chill down my spine. “Maybe you were right. I can’t fix that. I’ll…um, go.”

  He mumbled a string of curse words under his breath, and then, before I knew it, he circled his arms around my hips and pulled me flush with his front. “Wait.”

  I peered up at him expectantly. After weeks of searching for the truth, I’d have given anything for a lie that would enable me to stay.

  “You wouldn’t understand.” His voice was shaky, defeated.

  “Try me,” I said as I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him close enough that I could feel the way his heart pounded against my chest.

  “How could you possibly understand?” It wasn’t spat at me, or a curse. It was like he was stating a sad fact. “You grew up a member of the Waltons. My childhood was more like a bad episode of Shameless.”

  I tipped my forehead to his chest. “You’re right. I have an amazing family. I grew up with every want and need met. So, no, I probably won’t understand. But that doesn’t mean that I won’t try.” I leaned back to meet his gaze, pleading with him, “But I can’t do any of that if you won’t let me. Please, Quinn. Talk to me. Help me understand.”

  His forehead dropped to mine, and he squeezed his eyes shut. I was going to lose him. I could feel his hesitation with every ragged breath that breezed across my face. I squeezed my arms even tighter, whispering one last plea. “Talk to me.”

  Finally, whatever wall that he’d erected between us seemed to crack. It wasn’t much, but I felt the shift, the fissure in the stones, and I pounced. “I want to be there for you, like you were there for me. I need to.” Pushing to my toes, I pressed my lips to his cheek, breathing in the heady scent of Quinn’s cologne.

  He sagged into my arms. “The first time she overdosed, I was in Las Vegas. The guys and I had just been drafted and were celebrating. I hadn’t wanted to leave her. I knew there was something going on with her, but I didn’t know what. She swore she’d be fine for a couple days without me around. So, I went. Some girl who she’d been partying with found her passed out and drowning in her own vomit.”

  My stomach lurched, the image of his beautiful sister lying somewhere alone dying threatening to make me sick. I didn’t dare loosen my grip on him as words continued to spill out.

  “That was eight years ago. After she recovered, I sent her to rehab. She came home a different person, and I thought that was it. She was healed.” He tipped his head back and finally met my gaze. “I was so fucking naïve. It was only three months before she relapsed.”

  I held my breath, afraid that if I let it out, whatever spell I’d managed to cast to get Quinn to talk would be broken. For several long seconds he didn’t speak, didn’t move, didn’t even so much as blink. Then he stepped out of my embrace, and I immediately felt the loss of his warmth. I wanted to pull him back to me, to grab on and never let go. The story he’d just told me was so bad and deep in my belly, I knew that it was only going to get worse.

  Quinn pulled me to the couch, and I settled in beside him, not nearly as close as I wanted to be.

  “After that, I sent her somewhere else. She came back, and this time, she really was better. She graduated from college, got a job, and moved in with me. For years, she was a fucking recovery rock star. She went to the meetings, showed up when she said she would, pulled her weight around the house. I thought finally things were good. Not only that, but my career was taking off. I was winning awards and breaking records and killin’ it on the field. After a childhood of misery, a couple years of worry, my life was good.” His voice cracked, and I reached for him, my hand landing on his thigh.

  It was strong, what had carried him on the field, but the steel of the muscles hid the truth. He was physically tough, but inside? He was just as fragile as any of us.

  “Missing practices and camp? It was because of Jamie?” The pieces were starting to click into place, a puzzle that I’d been working on for days finally coming together. But it wasn’t a pretty field of flowers that I was finally seeing for the first time.

  He nodded. “Yep. While everyone was calling me a sellout, a diva, arrogant, I was giving my baby sister CPR on the bathroom floor. While coaches were blowing my phone up, wanting to know why I wasn’t at the stadium for the game, I was driving my sister to her fifth rehab facility, her glassy eyes staring blankly out the window of my truck. When I dropped the ball game after game, it was because I couldn’t stop hearing my sister’s pleas to just let her die long enough to hear the play Coach had called.”

  I couldn’t stop the tears from spilling over and running rivers down my cheeks. The way my chest squeezed was no more than a pinprick compared to the pure anguish that lined Quinn’s face.

  “I had no idea,” I croaked. “I’m so sorry.”

  The corner of his mouth tipped up the tiniest bit, a flicker of the man who I’d fallen for shining through as he rubbed the pad of his thumb across my cheek, capturing the liquid that still seeped from my eyes. “I didn’t want you to know. I didn’t want anyone to know.”

  “The drugs in your truck?”

  He nodded and hung his head. “Hers. She was better, or so I thought. Turns out she was just better at hiding it from me.”

  He surged to his feet, my hand falling from his leg, and began to pace. “Six months she’d been clean. I’d been on her ass for so long, then I met you, and it just felt so good to just be me again. To focus on the way I felt, the way it felt to be with you. I started leaving her alone more. I could see the changes in her, but I ignored them. Then, when your dad announced he was the coach, it felt like a sign. Like the world was telling me I couldn’t have it all.” He stopped and pivoted to face me. “What was I doing? I was getting lost in you while Jamie was getting lost in her addiction. I had to make a choice, and I had to choose her and my career.”

  “I would have never asked you to choose,” I said as I stood before him.

  He pulled me into his arms, the muscles of his forearms flexing around my waist. “I know you wouldn’t have. It’s why I pulled away. I didn’t want to put you in the middle of my mess.”

  His lips brushed the top of my head, and I melted into him. “I don’t understand. Why would you take the blame for her, risk losing everything, your career and livelihood, millions of dollars?”

  “It isn’t about the money. After my first contract, the money was no longer an issue. I play the game because I love it. Because growing up, it was the only thing that was consistent. Football gave me a father in my coaches. It gave me a family, it taught me the value of hard work. Most of all, it taught me the importance of taking care of the people you care about.” He waved a hand around the sparsely decorated room. “It may not look like it, but I have plenty of money. Enough to pay for the best treatment facilities around, but all the money in the world can’t buy me the one thing I need more than anything.”

  “What’s that?”

  “A cure to fix my sister. I’ve faile
d her, time and time again. I’m spent, Georgia. I can’t pour anything into you because I’ve given every ounce of myself to trying, unsuccessfully, to save my sister.”

  It was as though saying the words aloud made everything a reality, because Quinn nearly hit his knees as he sagged to the floor, his self-imposed responsibilities weighing heavily on his shoulders.

  I followed him down, pulling him against me, and with a false bravado told him, “My cup is overflowing, Quinn. I don’t need you to pour anything into me, nothing more than you already have. I just need you to let me help fill you back up.”

  20

  Quinn

  I couldn’t put into words the feelings that coursed through my veins as I stared at the woman kneeling next to me.

  Relief.

  The anchor that had been tied around my neck for years was finally released, floating away, and for the first time since that night in the casino, I could breathe.

  She knew the ugly truth. Not only did she know it, she was still right here, her soft hands rubbing my back, her warm eyes glowing at me, her pouty lips curved in a reassuring smile.

  Gratitude.

  Only my best friends knew that Jamie was an addict, and never once had they ever made her feel like anything less than a person in their eyes. But strangers, they couldn’t help but look at my sister like she was a leech on society. Georgia’s face wasn’t filled with disgust or contempt; it was the opposite, full of compassion and understanding.

  Longing.

  Her words lit me on fire, the way she’d taken everything I had to give her, the ugliest bits of me, and had still managed to look at me like she wanted me.

  The desire to kiss her, the need to feel her lips on mine, soft and sweet, was too much to ignore. I couldn’t stop myself as my fingertips reached for her, pulling her head to mine.

  She must have been psychic, or her need matched mine because before I had the chance to wrap her silky waves around my fingers, her mouth was crashing to mine.

  My mouth moved against hers with an intensity I’d never experienced before. I needed her. Her lips, her tongue, her kiss more than I needed blood in my veins. Georgia held nothing back, giving me all of her, pouring herself into me, filling my cup. All these years, I’d never known what it was that I needed. I thought that it was my sister, alive and healthy and not addicted to drugs. I thought that maybe having a career that I was proud of would fill the emptiness inside of me. I hoped that my friendships with the guys, our annual trips would ease the hollowness that ached in my chest.

  And maybe those things would have helped. Maybe they would have given me just enough that I would be able to look back at my life happily.

  But, with Georgia’s nails on my scalp, her tongue dancing with mine, her sweet smell wrapped around me, I realized that what I’d been missing all along was her.

  This fierce woman who believed in me, who didn’t take no for an answer, who pushed and pushed and pushed until I finally broke, not because she wanted to see me fall apart, but because she wanted to help me put myself back together.

  But what if I couldn’t be fixed?

  I tore my mouth from hers, my chest heaving. I couldn’t bear to open my eyes, to look at her beautiful face. “I can’t fix her. I can’t fix my sister, and without her, I have no one.”

  “You don’t have to fix her, Quinn. You just have to love her through it.” Soft palms cupped my cheeks. “Look at me.”

  I knew that the moment I opened my eyes, whatever it was that I saw shining back at me, there would be no turning back. Slowly, I pried my eyes open.

  Georgia’s green irises glittered in the bright light that was filtering through the blinds of my apartment. And what I saw beaming back at me was the woman I was in love with.

  “You have me. You don’t have to shoulder this burden alone ever again. I won’t let you go through this by yourself.” Her pink lips curved up into a smirk. “You’ll probably live to regret that decision later.”

  I didn’t think there was anything that I would regret when it came to Georgia Reed except almost walking away from her. “I don’t know how to depend on anyone but myself. I’ve never been able to.”

  “I promise that I’ll try to remember that, as long as you promise to never shut me out again.” She studied me intently, her gaze roaming my face.

  Could I promise that? I didn’t make promises I couldn’t keep. “I’ll never shut you out, Georgia.”

  “Good,” she purred in my ear as her hand traveled up my thigh. “Now, take me to bed.”

  I stilled her wandering hand and leaned away. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Stop thinking, then.” She brushed her mouth against mine, nipping my lower lip playfully.

  My breath caught in my throat. I should have known that Georgia wouldn’t accept my hesitation.

  “You said you wouldn’t shut me out. I want you.” Her hand found its way to my crotch and she breathed, “You want me too.”

  I did want her. God, I couldn’t stop the way my body trembled at the thought of being inside her.

  But I wanted every part of her.

  This time, when her hand brushed over my erection, I rolled my hips into her open palm, my mouth covering hers in one fluid motion.

  “I’m not taking you here.” I’d been waiting for this moment. I wasn’t about to feel Georgia, all of her, for the first time on the dingy carpet of my living room. I pushed to my feet and pulled her with me, gripping her ass and urging her legs up and around my waist. I carried her down the short hallway to my bedroom, depositing her on my king-sized bed.

  “Kiss me, Quinn.”

  She wouldn’t have to persuade me again.

  I angled forward, watching as her lashes fluttered shut, and pressed my lips to the curve of her neck, tasting and teasing my way until I reached her soft lips. I licked at the seam and groaned when her lips parted, her tongue touching mine. She tasted like hope.

  Her tongue rolled with mine as she thrust her hands into my hair, her hips rocking and rolling, desperate to connect with mine. Her kisses were needy, her moans echoing my own desire. I matched her rhythm, the ache in my chest easing with every brush of my hard cock with her core.

  She released my mouth. “We’re wearing too many clothes.”

  Her fingers fumbled with the hem of my shirt, and I stood, pulling it over my head before discarding it on the floor. Georgia lay on my bed before me, the single most beautiful sight I’d ever seen. I moved to resume our kiss when she arched a brow and shook her head. “Still too many clothes.”

  I smirked as my fingers curled into the elastic band of my gym shorts. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

  “Deal.” Less than a heartbeat later, we were both completely naked.

  “God, you’re gorgeous,” I groaned as I drank her in from head to toe. Her smooth skin was golden from weekends spent in the sun, her breasts high and full, and those legs that had just been locked around my hips seemed to go on for miles. My mouth practically watered as I dipped my head to pull a peaked nipple between my lips, sucking and swirling, her moans fueling my desire.

  “God,” she cried out as I licked my way along the curve of her breast into her cleavage.

  I’d wanted to take my time, to taste her everywhere, leaving no inch of her skin untouched, but the sultry mews and seductive urgency of her moans pushed me to move faster. Every roll of her hips sent sparks shooting down my spine, my entire body on fire.

  I had to have her, but first I needed to taste her. With painstaking control, I inched my way down her gorgeous body, peppering every curve, every dip with long, hot, open-mouthed kisses. Next time, I’d take the time to learn all the lines of her body. When my head dipped between her thighs, I groaned at the sight. She was wet, so ready for me. I leaned forward, breathing her in before taking a long lick from her entrance to her sweet bud. Her back arched off the bed, her cry of pleasure causing my own moan to rip from deep inside.

  Fuck,
I was desperate for her. I sucked her clit into my mouth and hummed, savoring how fucking good she tasted.

  “I want to be inside you,” I said against her center as her hips rocked, the wet heat of her core against my mouth. “Jesus, I need to feel you.”

  Hands cupped my face as she brought me up and her mouth to mine. “Then feel me.”

  I tipped my head back and looked into her emerald eyes. They glittered in the brightly lit room, hooded with lust, and with one fluid thrust, I planted myself deep within her, never losing her gaze.

  Her breasts pillowed against my chest as I anchored her head in place, my hands thrust deep in the silky strands of her fiery-auburn hair.

  Georgia had given me the greatest gift of all.

  Acceptance.

  I could have stayed like that, completely connected forever.

  But she had other thoughts, and when she nipped at my earlobe, it was all the encouragement I needed to move. I pushed into her hard, giving her what she wanted and what I needed. Our bodies rolled together, each moan of pleasure pushing the pace.

  Her fingers bit into my biceps, holding on as though I were her only lifeline in a turbulent sea. But she didn’t need to worry about me ever letting go. I’d ride the waves with her, never going under, until she was there with me.

  Our bodies continued to move as one, every nerve alive for what felt like the first time in my life, and it wasn’t long until she was saying my name again.

  “Quinn,” she moaned, the single syllable more erotic than any moan. As her release pulsed around my cock, my pace grew frenzied, my own release barreling down.

  I buried my face in her neck, her name a strangled cry that ripped from my lips as the most intense orgasm of my life slammed through me, my body shuddering with every slap of flesh on flesh.

  As my body stilled, I was careful not to give her all my weight as I pressed gentle kisses onto her temple, the room quiet except for the thundering of our hearts.