THE HARDEST YARDS (A BAD BOY FOOTBALL ROMANCE)

by Andrea Rose

  “I’m tough?” I answered, swaying on my feet.

  “Not when it comes to those dogs.”

  Gazes collided. I scratched my brow and Tyler took a wider stance.

  “Ari!” Braydon yelled from up the steps. “Who is that?!”

  Tyler leaned to see who the voice belonged to.

  “I’m not too upset because…it’s not over,” I told him, snatching him back from behind seen. “Not yet.”

  “Oh?”

  I bounced on my heels. “I have a contingency plan.”

  “I’d say I’m shocked but…”

  “Tyler, I have somewhere else to be.”

  I angled by him toward the coffee shop in need of a fire place, a steaming mug and my latest self-help book— The nearest cure for loneliness.

  “What is it?”

  I flipped around to hold a hand to his chest. “Stop following me.”

  “Tell me what’s happening with Dino and Bentley. I grew to care for them too, you know that.”

  “I’m…” I turned my hand, hating I had to admit it to his face: “I’ve spoken with the lawyers you sent me.”

  “You did?”

  “They can help me appeal the decision. They said they have a precedent case to use that could work in my favor, whatever the result was today. As long as I have options, I’m happy.”

  From what I could tell, Tyler badly wanted to laugh and hold me.

  Then his eye caught sight of the devil beyond my shoulder.

  “That him?”

  I pressed my mittens to my mouth and nodded. He carefully brushed by me, two at a time up the court stairs to Braydon.

  “Tyler, no.”

  “Hey, bro,” he said over-excitedly into Braydon’s ear. I climbed up the stairs after him to tug him away, not liking any scenario involving these two within less than a block of each other.

  “Tyler King. And I thought this day couldn’t get better.”

  “You leave her alone after today.” Tyler’s tensed mouth spat poison. “Y’hear me?”

  “Ariana.”

  “I’m taking Mr. King here and leaving.”

  “Ya workin’ for him?”

  “Yes.”

  His hateful eyes grew wide.

  “Oh, no. Wait.” Braydon’s fingers snapped and he pointed right at Tyler. “You guys are totally fucking,” he exclaimed. “She gave you that look she gave me once. Mm, not really your type, Ari. Razor sharp girl like you, jock like him.”

  “You will be back in this court with me, mark my words. Except next time, you’ll be handing Ariana her dogs back and have your hands in cuffs, you wet fuck.”

  “Tyler…”

  Five-foot-eight Braydon stormed toward six-foot-huge Tyler with fists clenched and arms locked rigid behind him.

  They backed down the court steps to the sidewalk.

  “Braydon, relax,” I said noticing a vein protruding from his neck.

  My arms made a wall of defense.

  “You think you’re a big man, don’t you?” Tyler said. How does it feel right now, to feel five-foot-fuck-all and your eye-line barely meets my dick?”

  “Is Tyler King calling me out?” Braydon sneered. “I’ll drop you, pretty boy. I do muay thai.”

  “Leave her alone. That’s all I needed to say.” Tyler turned around and gestured me to leave.

  “No, Tyler.”

  “Yes.”

  “We’re in front of a fucking courthouse.”

  “There’s bushes to shelter us. C’mere,” Braydon said and motioned his prey toward him. “Add some more arrests to that record, bad boy. Hit me. Do it.”

  Tyler saw my anger. He fumed back at me silently, his face pink in anger like mine felt.

  “I’m leaving you two to figure this out on your own,” I groaned. Hands in the air, I walked toward the cafe.

  “Mm, how’s my dick taste, by the way, King?”

  I flinched expecting to hear the sound of a fist cracking a jaw.

  When I turned back Tyler had dropped his previous guard at his sides.

  Nostrils flared, they bucked horns three feet apart with fiery looks and deep throated grunts.

  “Come on. Do it.” Braydon snuffed and twitched his hand again.

  Tyler didn’t bite.

  “Braydon! Leave it!” I yelled.

  “When you tell me relax, Ari…In fact when you tell me anything…man, there’s nothing worse in this world…”

  My chin twitched at the venom in his stare, the way he writes me off and I don’t fight back.

  Beat again.

  Ari: 0

  Braydon: …Everything, especially if Tyler’s put in cuffs days out from game day thanks to him.

  “You’re finished,” Tyler said and reached down to his pocket.

  Braydon panicked. He threw weight from his shoulder for the punch. Tyler caught it in his fist, the next in his eye and sent a blow back against Braydon’s face then twisted his arm behind.

  “Alright, alright, alright,” Braydon pleaded.

  The lover in me had no interest in staying to watch.

  I checked both directions and wandered across the street.

  A hand on my elbow. “Tyler, what’d I—“

  “We need a witness statement from you, ma’am,” a police officer said and released me.

  “I saw nothing.”

  “You don’t wanna help us, ma’am? We were told you saw who threw the first punch. Th—that’s Tyler King over there.”

  “I know exactly who he is.”

  “He’s the Lightning’s offensive quarterback, been a famous guy a few years…He’s got a big final in two days he can’t miss. Lotta people relying on him.”

  I looked skyward.

  “Ugh, fine. I’ll stay.”

  Braydon was detained by police for throwing the first punch. That didn’t mean him licking his lips at me didn’t give me the crawliest flavor of goosebumps. He struggled against the officer and Tyler stood nearby incase he tried anything.

  “We have plenty enough witness reports, sir. Please remain calm.”

  “This is bullshit!”

  My cheeks were wet with tears I’d cried in relief of Tyler not getting arrested for this. Happy tears were allowed in front of him, after all.

  “Watch out with her, pretty boy,” Braydon nudged his head to Tyler when the cops stood aside to talk.

  “Shut it,” Tyler said and leaned against the wall, blocking Braydon from view of me.

  “Far more spreadsheets than bedsheets. Not worth it once she finally puts out, either.”

  Tyler stepped a fake-out at Braydon. He cowered and threw his arms up in self-defense this time.

  An officer caught the commotion and backed Tyler away.

  I backed away too, toward my original plan.

  Why was I even waiting around for these idiots again? I gave my witness statement ten minutes ago.

  I pushed through a linger of Tyler’s cologne in the air.

  Other people shouldered by me, high schoolers racing to lie to officers they saw Braydon start a fight with their favorite Tyler King too. Lightning fans located their hero in the streets of New York and like hell they let him leave.

  I hung close a minute, in case any reporters showed up and got the wrong idea of the cause of this.

  “Does our king wanna press charges?” an officer asked.

  Tyler wanted my answer from the distance.

  I dragged my feet with a shake of my head.

  “Let the prick go,” he said.

  “Then we’ll be charging you for disturbing the peace, Mr. Thatcher. If you’ll follow Officer Cross. Please wait in the vehicle.”

  “Officer,” I called after him. “May I have a statement from you about Tyler not causing this?”

  “Of course. I’ll be right back and give it to you.”

  “Bullshit,” Braydon said, resisting the hold on his arms. “My lawyers are right down the street. Here, lemme call.”

  “You’re welcome to ca
ll them after we’ve checked out a few more things that’ve come up on the system.”

  I leaned against a tree behind the cop car, indulging in how long the officers were holding Braydon in cuffs. I saw the money Tyler’d slipped one of the cops and assume that had something to do with this taking so long.

  With them taking back Tyler’s attention for the moment with questions, I walked over to the payphone and lifted up the handset.

  “Everything OK, honey?” I tip-toped tall to see Braydon sat in the backseat of the cop car ahead of me.

  I stood there, thinking of who could keep me company tonight and dialed the only number I ever learned off by heart in case of emergencies— My parents’ home phone.

  It rang.

  My chest broke out in hives the longer it rang out. One year not speaking to them but this poor excuse for a human scraped her barrel of people to call.

  I massaged a hand along my neck.

  “Ariana,” Braydon said. “Who you calling?”

  Coins dropped when I set the phone back on the hook. I couldn’t do it.

  I stared over at Braydon. “Who’re you calling, Ari?” he asked and tried to climb out the vehicle.

  The cop pressed his head back inside the car.

  He always hated when he didn’t know who was at the other end of my calls.

  I dug in my pocket and slipped more quarters into the phone.

  A bringing in my ear as my other picked up a low buzzing of a cell phone. Habitually, I reached for my own until a flashing screen ahead caught my eye.

  I craned my neck to see Braydon’s phone lighting up in his pocket.

  The coins dropped when I set the receiver back down.

  Braydon’s screen went blank.

  I dropped in more quarters and rang Mom again.

  Braydon angled his cuffed hands to click the ignore button on his phone…

  I slapped my head and hung up once more, coins chinking down the metal box.

  The new cellphones for Christmas I willingly accepted each year, the controlling me with a credit card, the apartment lease…He led a wide-eyed girl astray, controlling my life like a sick puppeteer.

  Romance. Ha.

  “Do you not see, Ari? They stress you out,” he said two summers ago after another fight with my dad about me needing to revaluate things.. “You don’t need anymore of that in your life, honey,”

  “I know.”

  “Dr. Shanti says we should cut the vampires from our lives, even the ones we love the most. I’ve done it myself and it was a journey but I do feel so free for it. Lighter, even, physically.”

  He’d planted a seed that led me on a downward spiral. I’d always resented my parents for never letting just me be enough. Any bad memory of them watered the bad seed until a year went by I hadn’t spoken to them…

  Because they stopped answering their phone.

  I rang the number another time, for peace of mind, muttering:

  “Please, please, please no…”

  Braydon’s phone screen lit up again.

  …The bastard rerouted their number to keep me from them.

  I stumbled on the crub, tripped and smacked flat, hard onto the damp tarmac.

  “Ari, where are you going?!” Braydon yelled but the officers held his shoulder in the car. “They don’t love you, Ari! Remember how they treated you.”

  The souls of my hands burned.

  Scratched and bleeding, I stood to my knees and wiped off the gravel.

  A forearm for me to hold, a cologne I hated…

  Tyler King, acting the Hero, lifted me up and made sure his damsel was OK only further impressing his overexcited, squeeling bystanders. His arm wrapped around me briefly, like you would do a fellow citizen not the fucking love of your life.

  Camera phones were out snapping. I felt dizzy.

  I should’ve told him the truth:

  Braydon had been pretending to be my parents for a year. But then Braydon wouldn’t have the head to hang out the car like he was doing at me.

  Trapped in my own fauxmance, I ignored the fact I’d been tortured far longer than I thought.

  “Ariana. Let me explain. It’s a misunderstanding.”

  I backed away toward home…?

  …My apartment…?

  …My parents’…?

  Why the fuck would they talk to a daughter who invited a clinical sociopath into their lives? Hell, I didn’t even know their phone number to get in touch.

  Wherever I was headed, I begged the blue sky to swallow me up on the way.

  “Hi, Mom. Sorry but my ex-fiancee might be the American Psycho.”

  Right.

  “Wait,” Tyler whispered beside me, beyond earshot of the crowd controlled by more police. One of Braydon’s lawyers walked our way. Tyler backed up, hand on his heart. “Please have faith in me that I have everything under control and this pain won’t be forever for you. Just keep being strong.”

  I stood watching his honest eyes. He knew how to break my heart with words. I hated him for it. I hated him.

  That’s the only way I could move on from him.

  I hated Tyler King. Because if I didn’t, this pain would be forever.

  “I have other priorities right now,” I said. “Go back to Baltimore. Good luck with your final.”

  “You’re not coming? I—I have interviews and press shit that—”

  “I don’t care. You’ve been doing fine with the field girls in the meantime.”

  “Ari, I need to say it before you walk away for what could be a last time— I’m a changed man because of you. I wanted to thank you for that by being here for you now too.”

  “You’ve changed?”

  “Yes.”

  “That why you were photographed at Brommer House this morning? No Tyler!” I threw my hand up to keep him from talking his way back into my head. “Getting in a car with the whore who left you for dead? You are a pig.”

  I slapped away Tyler’s hand as it reached for my tears.

  “Ari, no. You need to listen. That’s nothing to do with—”

  “Me. Good. You’ve helped enough now I have somewhere I need to be.”

  I ran down the street to find my home in fire, a sofa and chamomile tea.

  37

  “Quick, get the fuck up.”

  “Wh-where am I?”

  “Baltimore, as you’ve been for the past two days.”

  Chrissy disrupted my welcomed sleep by yanking my bedsheets from me.

  The curtains zipped open. The achy glare of morning sun aroused my hangover from its cave. Croaky and dazed, I shaded my eyes with the covers and tried to get back to sleep.

  Thump-thump-thump…

  “My fucking heeead.”

  “You want Gavin to catch you in this state?”

  Chrissy busied herself around my hotel suite, collecting glass remnants of the minibar. I writhed my head in my palms to piece together why I got so wrecked.

  I wasn’t that guy anymore who drank to deal with his problems. I could fight it lately.

  Hell, yesterday I’d decided that I’d take today planning a way to get Ari back into my fucking arms.

  The pulse of my headache increased with any thought of her. I had to forget her for a second, if I could. I had yet to figure out how to do that though.

  I held my hand on my forehead. My head hurt.

  Must’ve been a big celebration last night. That or I was fucking sad as shit about something, one guess whom.

  “Did you hear what I said, Ty?” A scruffy Chrissy stopped to watch me.

  “Yeah. Gimme a minute.”

  “Gavin is on the way here, Tyler.”

  “Gavin can fucking wait.”

  I needed to check my phone for where I’d lost control last night.

  A call happened at 02:15.

  “I called Ariana,” I said and showed Chrissy the phone. “She answered for the first time in two days, I can’t even fucking remember what I said!”

  “Tyler!” C
hrissy handed me a water and Tylenol.

  “What?”

  “Gavin is on his way up here right now. If you want this plan to go smoothly, you need to wake up and pretend to not be fucked right now.”

  Plan?

  Glass bottles clinked. Chrissy hid a trash bag inside her backpack.

  “Screw him,” I said.

  “He’s got news, something about Ariana.”

  I caught Chrissy’s arm. “What about her? Is she OK? Why is he talking about her? ”

  My hotel room door swung open.

  A phone launched towards my head and narrowly missed my throat.

  “Gavin!” Chrissy pushed Gavin away from me, cartoon temper levels at comical so much I smirked.

  “Back the fuck up,” he said and shoved my assistant aside.

  I left the bed, mind too fogged to figure any shit out. I got in his face. “You don’t fucking touch her,” I said. With his sweaty face that close to my fist, I half considered dealing my second black eye in a week.

  “She doesn’t fucking touch me,” he said, slapping my hands away. “Some fucking PA. Leave us in peace, Chrissy. Go to Wendy’s. The usual, ice tea.”

  Chrissy leered to me, fighting tears as she signaled me to put my fists down. I couldn’t help her. Better her to be out the room so she wouldn’t have to witness this.

  “What d’you want?” I said, giving an apologetic squeeze to Chrissy as she left the room, her bag rattling with my built.

  “Get dressed, you fuck head.” Gavin tossed some pants my way. “You got an urgent meeting with Yuri Kissinger.”

  “Why?”

  “Ya lost Ariana. She’s quit on you too, just like fucking Jacquie, just like Margot, just like the rest of ‘em.”

  I had to stay cool about this, play nonchalant just like the old Tyler would at the news of his old PR girl’s resignations. I flexed out both my hands.

  “That all you came to tell me? I lost another one?”

  We headed into the corridor toward the elevators. Gavin thought he had me on his leash again, keeping me close enough to verbally shit on me.

  Little did he know I’d be gapping this place once I had an out.

  I needed to find out where the fuck Ari went after the courthouse yesterday. Time meant I couldn’t stay in the city and needed to be back in Baltimore. I had to find her to make sure, above all else, she was safe and she wasn’t alone.