Balls: A Second Chance Sports Romance

by Lolita Lane

  NORFOLK KNIGHTS STAR HAS SECRET LOVE CHILD

  They knew. They knew that I was expecting and were correct blaming it on Bruce. Even though they'd failed to get any pictures of me with Bruce or any pictures of me anywhere near his estate, they had been running with this story for awhile now, even fabricating an interview with me where I apparently said that I was told to get rid of it and I instead decided to sue him for every penny.

  It hurt me, really. I don't know why. I knew Bruce would be aware of it, and I knew that I shouldn't care what he thought. Why did I care if he thought I was some money grubbing gold digger?

  When I got to Philadelphia, I'd be free of the nonsense. It was locally contained in an era where few things were. The people in Pennsylvania didn't care all that much about a football player three states over. I likely would have been fine if I'd only gone to Baltimore, or even D.C. The story only really had traction around here, since Bruce was the golden boy, the hometown hero for Norfolk, the one who was going to lead them to finally winning the league championship.

  There's no story people like more than something taking down someone people worship. If he's not worshiped? No one cares.

  I grabbed my jacket, a big winter coat, and wrapped myself up in it. It was icy out, and the last thing I needed was to get a nasty cold or something else. Chuck had been a big help in loading up my car and my trailer, and I'd taken care of all the other miscellaneous business I needed to in Norfolk.

  Heading down the stairs, I said my good byes to Chuck and started toward the front door of the firm. When I opened it though, my exit was suddenly delayed.

  "Noelle!"

  Bruce. He was standing right in front of me. I immediately turned away, thankful that my baggy coat was covering any suspicious bulges on my body. I was somehow terrified of him knowing that I was pregnant, that it was his. I didn't want him to have any right to enter my life, not even to see a child who was biologically his own. Sure, it was cruel of me depending on who you asked, but I couldn't dare have him here anymore. "Get out of my way, Bruce."

  "Noelle, why haven't you answered my calls?" He walked in, and placed his hands on my shoulders again. I shuddered, knowing that I absolutely didn't want his attention. I didn't want to be tricked again.

  I pushed his hands off and walked away from him. "I'm not going to be lied to anymore."

  "I've never lied to you, Noelle."

  I turned my head toward him. "Do you think I'm dumb? You took off for a date while I was still in your bed."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Sally? I saw the text message on your phone. I saw the tabloids."

  "When do you believe tabloids, Noelle?"

  "When there's enough truth in them, I will."

  I heard him grunt. "Sally Brunswick is a psycho. Ever since I started becoming a star player, she's been after me. I get 3 nude photos a day and it's been like that for a year."

  "Yet you went to meet her."

  "Noelle, I was trying to get her to stop. You were back in my life. I wanted her to understand that I couldn't afford to lose you again. She's my bosses daughter too, so it isn't as easy as telling her to fuck off in so many words. I have to be diplomatic."

  "You really expect me to believe that it's all just a misunderstanding, Bruce?"

  "I don't know, Noelle. I need you. I've called you for months. I had to hire people to track you down and figure out where you work. Yeah, that makes me seem obsessed and a bit of a stalker, but I don't care. I wanted to see you again, Noelle."

  Shaking. I was literally shaking. Was it rage? Need? Uncertainty? I was going with the last one. "You've inflicted unimaginable pain on me, Bruce. I can't trust anymore. Not you, not even myself. Let me pass. I'm done."

  I started to walk out the door. He stood in my path for a time, but finally, he let me pass. Before I could get too far though, he spoke up. "All the tabloids keep saying you're pregnant. Is that true, Noelle?"

  I stopped a moment. It was his. It was his right to know that a part of him was growing inside me. That, though, wouldn't accomplish what I wanted. I couldn't lie to him either. So I kept walking.

  "Noelle? Answer me."

  I heard him walking behind me as I descended the stairs and made my way to my car.

  "Don't do this to me. I love you, Noelle. I'm at a loss why you can't understand that. Why you can't believe what I tell you. Was all that time we spent together for nothing?"

  It was enough to stop me in my tracks again. "I don't know. I don't know anything anymore. I just don't want to deal with any of this, okay? I'm leaving this state. I'm never coming back. I want to start over. Without you, or anyone else from my old life following me. Just let me move on. I can't trust myself to make the right decision anymore."

  When I made the next few steps, my feet were heavy. I reached my door, and opened it up, ready to slide in and be done with this.

  "Noelle, wait."

  I stopped again. Why did I do that?

  He was swift, right behind me, those powerful arms placed on my shoulders. I turned in place to face him. So close, I saw his eyes. There was a definite sadness to them.

  Bruce then kissed me. There was passion, need in it. It was powerful. His tongue entered my mouth, and against my will, my tongue followed his. They met, they entwined. Everything in my head was lighting up in my head. The want, the need for him. I wanted nothing more than him to bend me over my car and take me right at this moment.

  The kiss broke, and the doubts rushed back in. That's what he wanted of me. That's how he worked. He reminded me of all the good, so I'd forget the bad, if only for a little bit. The bad though, well, I didn't know if it was worth the good.

  I trembled, and pushed his hands away.

  I didn't say another word. I climbed into my car, and turned on the engine.

  "So you're just going to drive away from me. Even when you're carrying my child?"

  I froze again, realizing being that close to me, he had to have had felt my stomach, swollen with what he had done to me.

  I thawed myself quickly, realizing that wasn't enough. It doesn't take much to father a child, all things to considered. Just an ejaculation. It took a lot more to actually be a parent, a lover, a boyfriend, and a husband. If I let him be any of those things, he could hurt me again, and I would have none of that.

  Shifting the gears, I pulled away from him. I stared at him through my rear view mirror as he grew smaller and smaller. I tried to focus on the road, but total focus was always hard when tears were in your eyes.

  Chapter Eleven

  I walked into the convenience store. It was to be to fuel my car, and myself up for what was to be a long ride through Maryland and up to my new home. I needed a good deal of caffeine, so I grabbed a liter bottle of some diet soda. Seeing myself on one of the tabloids on the newsstand as I passed, I pulled a baseball cap out of my coat's pocket. I hated that it had come into so much use recently. It was the best way of hiding who I was since my local celebrity status had non-consensually been thrust upon me.

  Shooting a glance at the paper, I looked over the latest accusation. Apparently I was now the puppetmaster who was telling Bruce that he needs to hire an assassin to take out Mr. Brunswick so we could own the team together.

  There were so many logical problems with that plan, that it being false wasn't even the worst of my complaints.

  I placed the soda down, and handed over my card to pay for it and the gas. The clerk rung it up, and I did what I usually did – avoided making eye contact with the person I was dealing with. Someone made eye contact with me though, someone who looked familiar.

  An older gentleman. Carrying a camera. I glanced away from him, hoping he didn't realize it was me. "Thank you," I told the clerk, grabbing my soda and heading toward my car. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the old man making a move. I put a little spring in my step and got my car rolling again. I was done having random pictures taken of me. I wondered if it was even legal, because it wasn't like I wa
s actively seeking fame in any real capacity, barring wanting greater notoriety as a reporter.

  I hit the road, glad to be free of the scare. Or at least I thought I was. Looking in the mirror, I saw the old man following me in a tiny little coupe, clearly following me. I cringed, knowing that he didn't just happen to be going the same way I was. He wanted a payday, and some picture of me doing something that he could spew a narrative over was his ticket to it. I had to get creative.

  A ramp would lead me onto the highway, where I could drive a little faster. I could put some cars between me and lose him, without going ninety miles per hour through Norfolk proper and drawing police attention. Snapping a photo of me being stopped by police would be giving that vulture everything he wanted.

  Up onto the ramp, I accelerated faster, getting over into the fast lane, trying to weave in and out of traffic. I tried to stay focused on the road, but I had to check ever so often. The bastard was doing it damnedest to stay on my tail. Far more reckless than I was being, he was weaving in and out between cars, causing them to honk their horns at him.

  All I could do was try to go faster. Try to cut ahead.

  Despite my efforts, he stayed close. I was breathing harder, frustrated at the predicament. The last thing I wanted was for him to follow me all the way to Philadelphia. I had to think of something else, but outside driving in circles and going back into the city – which had the aforementioned problem of the police – I was out of ideas.

  I kept my eye on him, vaguely hoping that he would get lost, or at least think I was more trouble than I was worth. I had a double take moment when I was peering back too. A car I recognized. Shiny new and polished, was the sports car following the paparazzi?

  Shrugging, I figured all I could do was try harder to shake this guy. Going even faster, I cut across the lanes, yet he sped up to match me. He was flat out tailgating me now, not being responsible in the least. I glanced at my speedometer, realizing he was doing this to me at over eighty miles-per-hour. My car was nicer than his, so I had hopes I could lose him through speed alone. Shifting back into the fast lane with a clear stretch of road ahead of me, I slammed on the gas. My car roared forward – and his did too.

  Fear was hitting me. This wasn't a healthy way to drive, especially with the ice and frost around. I feared for my safety, for my life – and for the life of my child who was unfortunately forced to come with me everywhere I went.

  I started to slow down, realizing I wasn't a stunt driver and that all of this was actually incredibly foolish of me.

  That was my biggest mistake.

  Even as I tried to slow down gradually, my pursuer? He didn't. He slammed into the back of my car and that was enough to send me skidding as I panicked and struggled to get control of my vehicle again as it skidded through the road.

  This was how I was going to die wasn't it? Careening down the high way at ninety-miles-an-hour. They say in these situations we're never really properly trained to react. Training for combat and drills for emergencies are supposed to hone and prepare you for the worst.

  As my car rolled over to the lanes, I soon realized I wasn't on the road anymore, despite my best efforts to steer myself straight. The car spun out, hitting the mud, and I could hear my tires scream as I barreled toward a sign. I realized it was all out of my hands and I was at the complete mercy of physics now.

  Soon though, there was enough friction from the grass and earth below to drag me toward a stop, the passenger's side of my car tapping against a sign that said 'WASHINGTON D.C. 175'.

  My heart was pounding out of my chest, and I looked over to see what followed. The old man's coupe skidded into the ground too, but he wasn't as lucky as I was in lightly sideswiping a sign. Instead, he ran right into a tree that was off to the side of the road.

  Panting, I opened the door and climbed out of the car, just happy at that moment to not be dead. Or horribly maimed. Or missing limbs. I had a lot to be thankful for.

  I wasn't alone, though. The old man came out of his car too. He seemed more worse for wear. I was hit with a weird conflict of calling for help for him or letting him rot.

  After a brief moment of debate I went back into my car to grab my phone. Stupid morality.

  I dialed up 911 and gave them a rough estimate of where I was, and then stepped back out of the car.

  The old man, never missing an opportunity for profit, was limping toward me camera in hand, snapping pictures. "Wait, what the hell are you doing?" I tried to cover my face, but the flash kept going. What kind of insane story was he going to make due with this time?

  I heard a car skid in. It was the black sports car that I noticed earlier.

  "Back off, mister," I called out to paparazzi. It did nothing. He was used to not taking no for an answer I supposed.

  Out of the sports car though, came a strong, imposing figure. Bruce. He slid over the front of his car and sprinted toward the old man. In a flash, he took him down, knocking his camera out of his hand. Bruce got up, looking incredibly angry as he took the man down. He looked at the camera, and stomped on it, picked it up and tossed it into traffic where the cars flying by proceeded to run over it and break it into a thousand tiny little pieces. Bruce turned around and kicked the paparazzi in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him and keeping him down.

  Then, he finally turned to me. Just as fast as he tackled my photographer, he was on me. A big powerful hug. One like he used to give me whenever he went too long without seeing me. "What the hell were you doing Noelle?" He said, his tone having this weird combination of anger and concern.

  "I, I was trying to get away from him."

  "Driving faster in a half ton of steel isn't the answer. You do know what could have happened? What could have happened to you – and to our child."

  I froze, realizing his concern. "I'm sorry, okay. I just... The last few months have been very difficult for me, Bruce."

  "Why do you keep running away from me? I love you, Noelle. I always have. The way you keep pushing me away is destroying me."

  Shuddering in his arms, I realized his words were sincere. I was so afraid that I was wrong, that he was just conning me all over again. I hated the idea that all I was to him was just pussy.

  Then I realized what he had did. If I truly was just for sex, why would he have gone through all this? Hunting down where I lived, where I worked. Following my car. It dawned on me more that he was chasing the paparazzi chasing me.

  If I was just pussy, I was incredibly inconvenient pussy.

  "You pushed me away," I said. "You left me the day after I gave you my virginity. I haven't been able to trust anyone enough to sleep with them since."

  He stroked my hair. I could hear sirens from police cars and ambulances in the distance. "All I've ever wanted was you to be happy, Noelle. We were going to be apart for four years. I didn't deserve to keep you from finding love all that time."

  "Well you stopped me. You're my one and only, Bruce."

  "I don't know how to feel about that. You deserve everything. Everything. Even if I didn't mean to, I've only hurt you. I don't deserve you, Noelle. I want you so damn bad, but I don't deserve you."

  His heart was pounding. I could feel it through his shirt. Was it truly all in my head? His explanations made a degree of sense. We were going to college. Most people's time in college ends up being a multi-year orgy. Us being so far apart, determined to stay true to one another would have rendered us celibate, endlessly tempted by the world around us. He wanted to allow me to indulge. He underestimated just how much I loved him.

  Then as soon as I reappear, he wants me again. Since I freaked out at him the time before, he didn't want me to think that he was sleeping around on me, just as we started again. As a reporter, I was all too familiar with the craziness that rich people and their children often did, and how they got to write it off as being eccentric. Sally Brunswick didn't look much older than me yet had already gone through so many cosmetic surgeries. She had self-worth issues, like
ly. I suddenly wanted to write a story on her and somehow get her help in the process.

  One more loose end though dangled over my doubts with Bruce. "You left your... well one of your phones behind. Your contact book is filled with women, Bruce. Are you going to tell me you haven't been sleeping around as a man of your status?"

  "My phone?" He fished it out of his pocket, and slid his finger around. "I guess there are a lot of women on here."

  "So you have been..."

  "No!" He shot out. "No, Noelle. These women are contacts for the various companies that beg me to endorse things, or show up at their events. It's a modern world, Noelle, women hold a lot of jobs in today's work force, especially ones that require personnel skills."

  I let out a breath. "I'm your one and only?"

  He laughed. "I'm not going to lie, Noelle. You're not."

  Somehow this made my heart sink. We hadn't been officially together since our senior year. I shouldn't have cared, he was a free person, allowed to do whatever he wanted. "How many? Just tell me. I know I have no right to demean you for this, Bruce. I just want to know."

  "One. Just one other."

  "In six years you only slept with one other person?"

  "Noelle, when I slept with this woman, it felt empty. My heart was wracked with doubt. I didn't even finish, because it felt like I'd be betraying you. It didn't matter you were thousands of miles away. As far as I knew you could have been fucking entire football teams, but that didn't matter one bit to me. I realized that you, Noelle, were the only one for me."

  "I want you, Bruce. Please." Everything was lighter. Doubt was slowly fading. It wasn't completely gone, though. Maybe I needed to talk to a shrink to get rid of it all, but I couldn't shake this nagging feeling that this was all lies, no matter how silly that would be.

  Then, of course, he finished curing me of those doubts completely.

  He fell to one knee in front of me. The lights were flashing off in the distance. The first responders would soon be here, and they would questioning us both incessantly. The time for us to remain alone was growing short.