Matters to Me: A Football Romance (The Hart Series Book 4)

by M. E. Carter

  Well, what do you know? At least one thing stuck from all those years of laying on my therapist’s couch. She’d be so proud.

  Deciding it’s time to actually do something beyond just lay here, I bend my arms putting my hands next to my ears, and push up into a bridge. Using the only leg I’m allowed to put pressure on, I push myself as far as my shoulders will allow. Once I feel sufficiently stretched, I lay down and tuck my body. Rolling back and forth feels good enough but does nothing to alleviate my boredom. I might as well leave. Even studying business ethics sounds more fun than sitting around here.

  Of course, I didn’t put my plan to leave into motion five minutes ago. And for whatever reason, Con has decided now is a good time to come over and converse.

  “How’s the leg?” he asks, plopping down next to me and straddling his legs, stretching his own splits.

  I make a show of looking around before pointing to my chest. “Me?”

  He huffs whatever displeasure he’s feeling and reaches forward. “Don’t act like that, Lauren.”

  “Like what? Completely and totally uninterested in anything you have to say? Because it’s not an act. I truly don’t care.”

  “I liked you better before you got some hotshot football player boyfriend.”

  “You mean starry-eyed and naïve to the kind of person you really are? Yeah, she’s long gone.” I push off the floor and grab my crutches to hobble away. It would be a much more dramatic exit if I could stomp off, but this is what I’ve got to work with, so I try to make the best of it.

  Sadly for me, Con still has two working legs and is right behind me as I move. “Come on, Lauren. Don’t you remember how good we were together?”

  I look over my shoulder and furrow my brow. “Did you seriously forget how horrible of a person you were to me? What’s your angle here?”

  “There’s no angle. I just… I don’t know.” He steps in front of me and stops, effectively blocking me from getting away. “I just think you should give me another chance.”

  I don’t know what exactly is happening, but I take a deep breath before trying to make myself very clear. “Con, even if Heath and I weren’t together, there is no way in hell I would ever go out with you again. So, whatever it is you think you’re doing, just stop. You’re wasting your breath.”

  He opens his mouth to respond but is interrupted by our team’s unofficial Regina George. Her real name is Ally Chancellor, and she’s a huge bitch. I stay out of her way most of the time, not at all interested in engaging in the drama she leaves in her wake.

  “Conrad, I need to borrow your car.”

  Weird. I had no idea they were friends. Then again, I don’t pay attention to any of them anymore, content to stick to my own training.

  “Why would I do that?”

  She doesn’t look up from her phone, texting while she talks. It’s actually kind of impressive. “Because your mom gave me a gift card for Christmas, and in true Aunt Linda fashion, it has an expiration date on it.” Ally presses send on her phone and finally looks up. “It expires tomorrow, so I need to go spend it today.”

  The rest of their conversation fades into the background as I put some pieces of the gymnastics team drama puzzle together.

  Ally has always hated me. She wants an all-around spot badly but isn’t the best, so she could be knocked out if she can’t get her floor exercise pulled together.

  My specialty is floor exercise, and I’ve bumped up my points values this year.

  Con is her cousin.

  Con has spent the last few months trying to throw me off my game.

  All of it stopped the second I got injured, which effectively caused me to lose my spot and helped secure hers.

  Wait. There is no way the whole flirtation and sleeping with me only to humiliate me thing, was over Ally competing in the all-around. Was it?

  Holy shit.

  “What kind of Love Island bullshit did I accidentally wade into?” I grumble to myself, completely floored by this realization.

  “What?” Con asks after telling Ally where his car keys are.

  “Nothing. Nothing at all.” I crutch my way around him, ignoring him as he tries to engage me in conversation. I’ve got too many other things to do than sit here and listen to Con feed me more shit. To be perfectly honest, I’m not even interested to know if I’m right in my assumption about why I was his target in the first place.

  As I situate myself in my wheelchair, pulling on my favorite oversized Aerosmith sweatshirt and tie on my lone shoe, I think I about how little I care what anyone in this gym thinks of me. It’s almost startling how much my attitude has changed in the last few months. Maybe it’s because nothing shows you people’s true character like a major conflict or in my case, a conflict followed immediately by a major injury. Or maybe it’s because Heath’s dad having a heart attack put things in a different and more important perspective. Regardless, it’s odd knowing how little I care what these people think. Odd and a little freeing.

  Shooting off a quick text to Annika, I wheel my way out the door and down the sidewalk, not even bothering to say goodbye. The only person who cares that I’m leaving is Ellery anyway, and right now, she’s too busy focusing her googly eyes on Kevin.

  I laugh softly to myself as I think about how strange that relationship is. They’re cute together and all, but never in a million years would I have put them together. But more and more, I see them catching each other’s eye across the room or chatting quietly in a corner during break times. I only hope he doesn’t turn out to be a dick. I don’t think he is, but at this point, my trust doesn’t come easily anymore.

  The wheel across campus is flat but long, and I’m out of breath by the time I make it to the dorm steps where my roommate and her boyfriend are hanging out.

  “Hey guys. Thanks for waiting for me.”

  “You don’t have to thank us,” Annika says as she takes the crutches off my lap and balances them in front of me so I can stand up. “It’s kind of nice that you need me again.”

  “Aw. Were you feeling lonely without someone to care for?” I joke as I push out of my chair and hop around until I find my balance between the crutches. When I’m settled and out of the way, Jaxon folds up the chair behind me.

  “Hardly,” Annika says with a laugh. “That one right there might be feeling better, but now all he does is whine about all the labs he’s doing this semester.”

  Jaxon pulls the door into the dorm open for us as I carefully navigate my way up the short steps. “It’s not whining. It’s the realization that I may have bitten off more than I can chew. Advanced Chem is a given, but I had no idea the psychology class I’m required to take would mean extra research projects. What the hell does this have to do with being a doctor?”

  “It’s called bedside manner,” I answer quickly and gesture down to my leg. “Trust me. Not everyone has it, and the ones who didn’t were horrible. I don’t remember half of what they told me.”

  “See?” Annika points at me. “That’s exactly what I told you. And if you’re going to be a pediatric oncologist, you better learn the psychology of kids.”

  “I should have taken the child psychology class,” he grumbles as we clunk our way down the hall. I’m sure we’re an interesting sight to see—Annika leading the way, me huffing and puffing on my crutches, Jaxon pushing a perfectly good wheelchair behind me. At this point, I’d hope everyone on this floor is used to us.

  “Why didn’t you?” I lean against the wall, waiting for Annika to open the door and let us in.

  “I will. I have to take both of them, actually. This one fit into my schedule better. Or so I thought.”

  One by one, we follow Annika inside and I drop myself into the rolling chair that used to come in handy for sitting at a desk. Now, it’s used to give me mobility inside this small room.

  Jaxon leans the wheelchair against the wall by the door and flops down on my bed. Well, technically, it’s Annika’s bed, it’s just shoved up against mine
. “Somehow I missed the part about having double the number of labs when I set it up this way.”

  Annika pouts her lip in an exaggerated fashion, but I feel sympathetic. I crinkle my nose in disgust. “Sounds like torture.”

  “Yeah, it’s no picnic so far.”

  “You’ll be fine.” Annika pats his leg and turns to me. “I don’t have anywhere I have to be right now. Do you need help showering?”

  I drop my head back and make a face. “Ugh. Yes, I do. But it takes so much effort.”

  Annika smiles. “I know it’s not ideal, but it’s not terrible, is it?”

  “No,” I grumble. “I’m just tired of not doing things on my own.”

  “Oh really.” My best friend crosses her arms and smirks at me. “I don’t hear you complain when Heath is the one helping you shower.”

  “It’s way less boring when he showers with me.”

  “Hey!” Jaxon covers his ears. “I don’t need to hear this shit.”

  Annika grabs his arm and pulls it away from his head. “Oh please. Like you two don’t do all that locker room talk when we’re not around. I’m not stupid.”

  Jaxon gets a serious look on his face. “No. We don’t.”

  “You don’t?” I don’t believe him because what guys don’t talk about boobs and butts and getting off? That’s just weird.

  “No,” he responds with a shrug. “It’s kind of this unspoken rule. We just respect you guys more than that.”

  Annika makes an “awwwww!” sound while I mumble “Buncha pansies.” Jaxon rolls his eyes at both of us. Or maybe just me.

  “Speaking of,” Annika begins now that she’s done swooning over her boyfriend for the umpteenth time, “when is Heath coming back?”

  “I don’t know,” I admit, rolling myself to the dresser to gather my clothes. “I got one text last night that said he was hoping to hit the road tomorrow morning.”

  “Um… he’s actually on the road already.”

  “What?” I whip around to look at Jaxon. “When did he leave?”

  Jaxon suddenly looks sheepish, maybe because of the stunned expression I’m probably sporting. “About ten this morning.”

  “I thought he was waiting for his dad to be released from the hospital.”

  “He was discharged last night. He didn’t call you?”

  I shake my head and bite my bottom lip. I shouldn’t be surprised that Heath called Jaxon and not me to give him an update. They’ve been roommates and best friends for years. I’ve only been dating Heath for a couple of months. And yet, I can’t help but feel like I’ve been sucker-punched.

  Maybe he doesn’t like me as much as I thought he did. I mean, I assumed after we shared that night together and he made it clear it was about more than just sex, it meant our feelings for each other were deep. But maybe it wasn’t as mutual as I thought.

  Recognizing my thoughts are beginning to spiral, I reach back into my drawer and grab my meds. I usually take them after practice anyway, but it’s hard to forget when I’m doing my best to put a mask on as I fight down the tears of insecurity.

  “I’m sure he wasn’t thinking, Lauren,” Annika says quietly behind me.

  Turning my gaze to her I flash her a wide smile. It’s fake, but hopefully I’m the only one who can tell. “Oh, I know. He’s got a lot on his mind right now. As long as one of us knows what’s going on, it’s fine.” Grabbing my things off the top of the dresser, I know I can’t keep up this charade much longer. “Let’s go get this plastic sleeve on my leg, so I can clean up. I’m sure you guys have plans.”

  Carefully, yet quickly, I push myself to the bathroom, fighting the emotion bubbling up inside me until I can be alone behind that shower curtain.

  Suddenly, the words I spoke to Con come racing back to me. Even if Heath and I weren’t together, there is no way in hell I would ever go out with you again.

  I was speaking hypothetically, but now, I just hope I didn’t speak too soon.

  TWENTY-SIX

  Heath

  I trudge up the stairs, backpack flung over my shoulder as I head to my dorm room. I’m fucking exhausted, physically and mentally. I was only gone for four days, but it feels like weeks since I slept. Sitting in a hospital during a crisis, coupled with fourteen hours of driving will do that to a body.

  The good news is my dad looks to be out of the woods. The doctor has no reason to believe he won’t make a full recovery. In fact, Dad was doing so well, he was discharged earlier than normal. That’s my dad for you—stubborn as a mule in all things, including how long his body will need to stay in a hospital bed.

  Breathing a sigh of relief to finally be back at my home away from home, I open the door to my room and stop where I’m at. This is not what I was hoping to walk into.

  “I knew you guys missed me, but I wasn’t expecting a welcome home party.” The joke falls flat to my own ears, but I don’t have much energy left to care. Certainly not to this many people.

  Annika is sprawled out on my roommate’s bed with several textbooks open in front of her. Lauren is lounging on mine, only one textbook in her lap but with her phone in hand. Her face lights up when she sees me, and it hits me like a punch to the gut. How did she get so attached to me so fast?

  Jaxon is sitting at the desk. At the sound of my voice, he spins around in his desk chair and smiles. “Hey man, you’re back.” His face falls quickly. “And you look like shit.”

  I can’t disagree. “I feel like shit.” I toss my wallet onto the dresser and bag of dirty clothes into the closet and drop onto my bed, as far away from Lauren as I can get without making it look obvious that I’m keeping my distance. I ignore the look of confusion on her face at my lack of greeting. I’ve got too much on my mind to worry about how she’s feeling.

  Dick move? Yes. But under the circumstances, I think it’s justified.

  “So, what’s everyone doing in here anyway? Decide to have a party while I was gone?”

  “We went to eat and decided a change of scenery would be nice for a while,” Lauren says quietly. I don’t look at her, just nod at the information. “Was the drive okay?”

  “Same drive as always.” I know my answers are clipped and by the uncomfortable vibe in the room, everyone else is noticing it too. “I was looking forward to crashing for a while, but I guess that’ll have to wait.”

  Annika sits up quickly and begins gathering her things. “I’m sorry, Heath. We didn’t know you’d want to sleep here. We can go.”

  I run my hand down my face, frustrated by my own lack of manners. “Naw, stay. I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be rude. I have a meeting with Coach anyway.”

  Pushing myself up, I grab my wallet and shove it in my back pocket.

  “You have a meeting with Coach now?” Jaxon sounds confused, which comes as no surprise.

  “Yeah, I called him on my way back. He’s in the office working on some paperwork so he told me to pop in.”

  “Let me guess.” Jaxon leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “You want to talk to him about registering for the combine.”

  “Yeah. So?”

  He stares at me, unwavering. I can tell he’s not thrilled by my decision. “Things changed that quickly, huh?”

  I stare right back, not even a little moved by his obvious displeasure. “I have a family that needs me, Jaxon.”

  He nods once and turns back to his books, effectively dismissing me. Whatever. I don’t need his approval to plan my future. I never did.

  Looking up, my eyes catch Lauren’s. She looks hurt by my dismissive attitude. I can’t say I blame her. I’ve been almost non-existent by phone or text the last few days and now, I’m walking out without so much as a hello. I understand, but I can’t let it stop me and what I have to do.

  “I’ll, uh… I’ll call you later,” I say quietly, trying to push the guilt down, and pull the door open. She nods and does her best to smile, but I see the pain in her eyes. There’s just nothing I can do right now to stop it
. “Later.”

  I book it out of the room as fast as I can, ready to get out of such an awkward situation. Plus, I’m feeling an urgency to talk to Coach as soon as possible. I don’t need his approval to register for the combine, but I do feel like it’s common courtesy to let him know my plans.

  Despite my exhaustion, I have a restless energy that needs an outlet, so I jog across campus to the field house. Within minutes, I’m knocking on Coach’s open door.

  “Germaine.” He drops his feet off his desk and waves me in, tossing some files onto the mess of paperwork on his desk. “Come in. How’s your dad?”

  “He’s good, sir. Already home and being pampered by my mother.” The thought of how seamlessly they moved into that partnership when he came home brings a smile to my face. “He’ll be off work for a couple of weeks until he gets the all-clear from his cardiologist, but there’s no indication this will hinder him long term.”

  “Good, good,” Coach responds. I know better than to think he’s answering me absentmindedly. And he knows better than to think I’m here to talk about my dad’s health. “What’s so urgent that you need to talk to me tonight?”

  This is it. What I’ve been working towards and toying with for the last several years. Once these words are out of my mouth, there’s no going back. “I wanted you to know I’m registering for this year’s combine.”

  Coach pulls his glasses off and drops them on top of the growing mess, then leans back in his chair. “Is that so?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “You know you don’t need me to give my permission.”

  “I know. But I felt it was only right to give you a head’s up. You’re already planning for next year, so you need to know I probably won’t be here.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  “And I want your opinion about it.”

  I didn’t expect those words to come out of my mouth. Up until this moment, I never considered what Coach thought of my prospects. I’m leading the NCAA with most tackles per game and was barely edged out of all-season tackles by Abel Anders. I’m quick, I’ve got a good work ethic, and my grade point average shows I’m committed. All reasons why I’m a good candidate. Or so I think.