Lucky Catch: A Quick Snap Novella

by Lea Coll

  “You going to the locker room?” Bill asked.

  “Yes.” I wanted to make sure Gavin was okay. I had to remind myself I was there for post-game interviews, not as Gavin’s girlfriend.

  I tried to focus on interviewing Clay, Will, and Coach Phillips, but my mind was a mess. As soon as I was done, I headed to the trainer to hear how Gavin was. He indicated he was sore, and he had been taken to the hospital for an MRI to be safe. Was it appropriate for the sideline reporter to go to the hospital? Probably not.

  “We done here?” Bill asked.

  “Yeah,” I said, still debating the intelligence of showing up at the hospital.

  “Great. I’ll see you on the plane.” Bill packed his camera.

  “Right.” The plane. We were scheduled to head out tonight.

  I tried to think of who would be at the hospital—trainers, the Offensive Line Coach, and maybe Coach Phillips? Would they think it was odd if I went? Even if none of the prior sideline reporters had done something like this before, I was known for showing up everywhere. It was possible no one would question it.

  Before I could second-guess myself, I walked outside, waving my hand at a passing cab. I prepared an answer in case anyone asked why I was there. When I arrived at the hospital, I showed the nurse my press pass, asking where Gavin was. I followed her directions, my worry increasing with each step.

  I found Coach Phillips in the waiting room. “How is he?”

  Coach didn’t look surprised to see me. “He’s fine. We’re just waiting on the MRI results. We’re following concussion protocol.”

  “Of course.” I couldn’t stop the rush of air that flew out of me at his words. He was fine. Everything was going to be okay. “Can I see him?”

  I couldn’t stop those words from flying out of my mouth—words that could expose us and whatever was between us.

  He considered me for a few seconds. “Sure. He might miss a game but he’ll be okay.”

  “Sorry, I get close to the players. I worry when they get hurt.” It was the truth. I hoped he didn’t think I was any less of a professional for admitting that.

  “You’re good at your job, Lexie.” His expression was serious.

  “Thank you.” It felt good that Coach Phillips admired me, but I was still shaky from worry.

  “I’ll take you back to see him,” Coach said.

  I followed him to a private room where Gavin was propped up on pillows. Every muscle tensed, like he was ready to spring out of bed at any moment.

  “Lexie wanted to see how you were. I’ll be in the waiting room.” Coach nodded at me before leaving.

  Gavin’s eyes flicked from Coach’s back, then to me. “Come here.”

  I rushed to his side, then into his arms. “Are you okay?” My words muffled by his chest.

  “I think so.” His hands stroked my back, soothing me.

  I sunk into his body for a few seconds, relishing in the feel of being in his arms. I heard footsteps in the hallway, so I sat up in case someone walked in. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. The MRI is just a precaution.”

  “That’s what Coach Phillips said, but I’ve never been so worried.”

  “For your team?” His lips curled up, his eyes crinkled.

  “No. For you, of course.” Our hands had twined together on the bed between us. I felt calm for the first time since he’d gone down.

  “You saw the play?” His tone was cautious, and his eyes were concerned.

  “Of course. I was hoping you’d catch it so that it would be your big break.” I hadn’t even considered the possibility of him getting hurt.

  “Instead, I dropped it. It was in my hands. I dropped it.” His expression changed from soft to frustrated as he spoke.

  “Gavin, you were tackled by two guys coming from both sides. It was a bad hit.” I didn’t mention how his body twisted unnaturally or how awful it was to watch.

  Gavin shook his head. “That’s no excuse. We trained for this.”

  “First of all, you don’t tackle in training camp. It’s different than college ball. Even if you were used to being tackled, that was a hard hit.” It reminded me of how dangerous football was. It was exciting to watch, but serious injuries were possible. I hadn’t thought any of that through when he was in my hotel room last night.

  “I don’t make excuses.”

  I ground my teeth together, then stood as the doctor walked in with the trainer and Coach. As a reporter, I wasn’t expected to stay for the reading of his MRI. I touched Gavin’s shoulder and said, “I hope you feel better.”

  Then I forced myself to walk away. Neither of us was prepared for our relationship to be outed. I had to decide if what I had with Gavin was worth hiding from everyone. Was that even what he wanted? Or was he so focused on football I was barely a blip on his radar?

  Chapter 11

  Gavin

  On Monday morning, I was home in my apartment near the stadium. I wasn’t expected at training camp until Wednesday. I had a few more tests before I could be cleared to play this Sunday’s game.

  Other than the few minutes Lexie was in my hospital room, I hadn’t stopped thinking about that dropped catch. The feel of the ball in my fingers, the impact when it popped out. I should have pulled it into my chest sooner. I had time, didn’t I? I couldn’t get past the overwhelming feeling I’d failed. I was given a golden opportunity—Will Montgomery throwing a Hail Mary to me in the end zone, but I’d dropped it.

  My team won the game with a field goal. I couldn’t stop the thought I’d gone up against my brother and come up short. The team shouldn’t rely on the kicker. I should have come through with a touchdown. I knew the coaches would be thinking about whether I’d come through in a clutch position again. There were so many receivers vying for a spot. I didn’t stand a chance if I couldn’t perform under pressure.

  My phone buzzed periodically from people making sure I was okay. I ignored it. I was obsessed with knowing what people thought about the dropped ball. The video of my hit played each time the game was reported. The shocked gasp of the crowd, the reporters’ worry about potential injury, didn’t register. Why weren’t they saying anything about me holding onto the ball? The tackle looked worse than it felt. I was tasked with a job and I screwed up. Even if the fans and commentators weren’t holding me accountable, my coaches would.

  I finally looked at my missed texts—one from my brother and dad and several from Lexie. She wanted to see me. When Lexie visited me in the hospital, everything fell away but the worry on her beautiful face, her relief when she’d discovered I was okay. We’d reached for each other’s hands instinctively, but then she’d jumped away when the trainers and Coach walked in. It was a reminder of what we couldn’t be.

  I messaged Lexie my address, asking if she’d come by after practice. She’d ease this pain inside my chest, so I’d forget my colossal screw-up. When my head was better, I’d worry about how I’d come to rely on her in such a short time. But for now, I’d take whatever I could get from her.

  Lexie

  Later that night, I picked up barbecue sandwiches and fries on my way to Gavin’s apartment. I knocked lightly on the door in case he was sleeping. I heard footsteps before the door opened. Gavin stood there, his chest bare, his sweatpants low on his hips.

  My gaze drifted down the hard ridges of his stomach to the trail of hair that disappeared under his pants. I wanted to push him inside his apartment, kick the door shut behind me, and tug his pants down. I wanted to lick and explore every inch of his skin I didn’t get to touch the other night, but he was injured. I lifted the brown bag. “I brought food.”

  “Perfect.” He opened the door more so I could step inside. He took the bag from me before leaning in. Was he going to kiss me? He scanned my face as if reading my reaction, then lowered his lips to mine. It was slow and sweet, easing some of the worries I’d felt since the hospital.

  He lifted his lips from mine. “I’m starving.” He moved to the couch and b
egan pulling food out of the bag, placing it on the coffee table.

  I smiled, satisfied I’d thought to bring food. I sat next to him, unwrapping the greasy sandwich.

  “How was practice?” He didn’t look at me, but his body tensed as if he was worried about my answer.

  “It was good.”

  “The coaches didn’t say anything about Sunday’s game?”

  “They talked about it, but all they said was that you were resting, so you could play this weekend.”

  He looked at me, his eyes wide with surprise. “They didn’t say anything about my screw-up?”

  “What screw-up?” My wrapped sandwich rested in my lap as I watched him. “You mean, that tackle in the end zone?”

  “Yeah. I dropped the ball. I cost us the game.”

  “First of all, it’s a preseason game. Everyone makes mistakes, and secondly, everyone was worried about you.”

  “Veterans can afford to make mistakes in the preseason, not rookies.”

  “I’m going to be honest with you, Gavin. You’re not an undrafted rookie. Seattle drafted you—the coaches want you here.”

  “So, you're saying it’s my position to lose?” He seemed agitated.

  I glanced at the TV where national sports coverage played.

  Had he been watching the repeat of his tackle all day and berating himself? I had to be careful with my words. Gavin was clearly a type-A personality. Mistakes were unforgivable. “I don’t think a veteran would have caught that pass. You’re the tallest wide receiver on the team with the highest vertical leap. You were the only one who had a shot at catching that ball. And that tackle? God, Gavin, you’re lucky you weren’t more seriously hurt. No one blames you for the ball popping out.”

  He was quiet for a few seconds as he considered my words. “I didn’t have my hands around it. I didn’t bring it down and protect it.”

  “You didn’t have time for that,” I said gently. “Why don’t you eat? Maybe you’ll feel better on a full stomach.” I looked around the apartment, not seeing any evidence that he’d eaten earlier. No garbage was left out. Either he was neat, or he was so intent on his perceived mistake, he wasn’t taking care of himself.

  I took water bottles from the fridge before I switched the channel to a home improvement show. It wasn’t good for Gavin’s psyche or mine to watch the same play on repeat. When we’d finished eating, I cleaned up the food wrappers, throwing them out.

  Boxes were stacked by the door indicating he’d recently moved in. The counters and walls were bare.

  I sat next to him, wanting to soothe him somehow. His forehead was wrinkled, maybe from a lingering headache from the concussion or stress, I wasn’t sure. I wanted to take his mind off of everything.

  I stood, holding my hand out to him. “Come on. Let’s take a shower.”

  He placed his hand in mine as I led him back to his bathroom where I turned on the water. “I’m surprised you don’t have a larger apartment.”

  It was basic. Maybe two bedrooms and one bath, a small kitchen, and a living room. Clay had only played for a couple of years, but his place was massive. I’d expected Gavin would have a larger place.

  “This is all I need.” He stepped under the warm water, closing his eyes.

  I took off my clothes before I stepped into the shower behind him. I squeezed some soap onto my hands, tracing the hard planes of his back. I knelt to spread the soap down each leg. He widened his legs slightly to give me access. I stood, reaching around to his chest. It brought my nipples flush with his back. I traced his chest and his abs, but when my hands lowered further, he snagged my wrists and turned in my arms.

  “Lexie.” His voice strained with barely controlled lust. He lifted me in his arms as I instinctively wrapped my legs around him. I moaned as his cock nestled in my folds. His mouth slammed into mine. I wrapped my fingers in his hair, holding him to me. We were wet and slippery. His cock slid back and forth over my clit.

  I wanted him desperately. We’d gone from me soothing him, to a slow seduction, to him taking control. I liked it. I liked him. “Please, Gavin. I need you.”

  I’d give anything to take the stress and worry from his mind. It was only us in this moment. No football. No dropped balls.

  “I need to fuck you.” He pulled back as if he asking for permission.

  “Yes, please. I’m on birth control. I’m clean.”

  Then he thrust inside in one fluid motion pinning me to the wall. The tiles cooled my heated skin. I wrapped my arms tighter around his shoulders, holding on while he dipped his knees and slammed into me. I’d never been taken like this. I threw my head back against the tile and reveled in the hard muscles of his body and my soft pliable skin.

  A feeling overcame me—could I love him?

  No, we’d only just met. This was passion. The sex was raw, primal, but it wasn’t love. Gavin’s fingers tightened on my hips as he continued to thrust. The delicious friction as he ground against me with each stroke sent me over the edge. I cried out. The pleasure was so intense. So overwhelming. I’d never felt anything like it.

  Gavin thrust harder as if he was chasing his release or something else. He groaned on his last thrust, settling deep inside me as I sagged against him, suddenly depleted.

  “That was—holy fuck,” he said into my shoulder

  I giggled. “It was.”

  He slowly lowered me to the ground, looking down at me with wonder. “I’ve never felt anything like that.”

  Sensing his sincerity, I said, “Me neither.”

  I didn’t know what it meant other than blowing my rule against dating players out of the water. I caressed his cheek, stepping closer to him, allowing our bodies to touch. I went up on tiptoes to kiss him. I’d seen Gavin focused, intense, and now hurt. He was amazing. He was worth whatever was going to happen.

  Chapter 12

  Lexie

  The week after Gavin’s injury, Adam wanted me to submit my planned questions for the on-air interview. His request was reasonable. It was rare for a sideline reporter to get a featured interview like this one. I didn’t want to screw it up.

  I’d sent the questions I would ask if no one was looking over my shoulder. Adam would most likely have a problem with it, but this thing with Gavin wasn’t a one-night stand or casual, it had potential. I wouldn’t screw things up.

  Friday afternoon, Adam walked into my office, shutting the door. “What’s this?” He threw my printed questions on the desk in front of me.

  “My proposed questions.” I folded my hands on the desk in front of me.

  “I thought we talked about this.”

  “We did. I don’t agree with your take. I think the positive spin will rally the fans behind him more than tearing him down.”

  Adam faltered at my words. “We have to go with what will get the most attention.”

  “Are you sure the front office is okay with this?” Usually, I would never take this approach, but at the end of the day, I was conducting the interview. What happened would come down on me.

  “That’s my job to consider that. I want your assurance you’ll ask these questions.” He placed the questions in front of me. “I want your agreement before Sunday.”

  When he left without waiting for a response, I read through the questions, the words blurring in front of me. He wanted me to ask if Gavin resented his brother. If his father favored his brother and on and on. The questions were horrible. I dropped my head into my hands. What was I going to do?

  Gavin

  On Friday, I was cleared for practice so I rejoined the team at training camp. No one mentioned the dropped ball. Instead, Coach Phillips told me he wanted me to work with Will. We practiced throwing balls into coverage. He wanted Will to get used to my vertical leap and what I was capable of.

  I’d spent Friday and Saturday night with Lexie in her hotel room she stayed in near our training facility, but she’d been distant. I wasn’t sure if she was just worried about the interview, or it was somethin
g else. After this next game, we wouldn’t be returning to the dorms or the training facility. Would things change between Lexie and me once the season started? Would she be reminded of her status as the sideline reporter and mine as a player, and back away? I hoped not because I needed her now more than ever.

  When I was stressed or upset about something that happened in practice, she grounded me. She acknowledged my strive for perfection and tempered it with reason. No one expected perfection. The coaches were impressed with my hard work and positive attitude. Lexi reminded me that if I beat myself up about a mistake, it would linger and affect my future performance. That stuck with me more than anything.

  On Sunday morning, we ran through the proposed questions, so there wouldn’t be any surprises. Other media outlets had found out about it, so it was going to be aired nationally before kick-off.

  “Are you ready?” Lexie asked as she sat on a chair across from me.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be.” I could handle game pressure, but I’d never gotten used to the cameras.

  “You’ll do fine. There’s no one here but you and me. We’re having a friendly conversation. Like that time in the car.” She meant to comfort me, but she looked nervous. Her usual confidence was absent.

  Her words brought me to the time we’d driven to the high school when we’d gotten to know each other. I let the familiar comfort I experienced in her presence wash over me. I tuned out the cameras, the assistants holding the lights, and the make-up people.

  “Alexandra Austin, sports anchor and sideline reporter for Seattle. I’m here with our very own Gavin Keller.” She turned her attention to me. “Gavin, thank you so much for being here.”

  I smiled, even though my presence was mandatory. “It’s good to be here.”

  “Seattle and the world want to know who you are when the pads come off. Do you play video games? Do you like to read?”