Offside: A Bad Boy Sports Romance

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Offside: A Bad Boy Sports Romance Page 10

by Abbey Foxx


  Even if I wanted him I can’t, not yet anyway. Not until this mess of a relationship is sorted out. Not until I can lose myself without falling so far I can’t come out the other end. Not until I’m sure.

  Jasper holds his hands up in the air again. “I didn’t say you needed a new boyfriend.”

  “Just a new lover.”

  “Just a bit of fun.”

  “Is that all it is to you?”

  “It’s never just that, Penny. I’m just the kind of guy that doesn’t have luck with the girls.”

  “Is that what you call it? I think I’ve read at least five hundred stories that might go some way to disputing that.”

  “I’m never the one to leave first and I never cheat, did you read that too?”

  “Maybe your jokes aren’t good enough then.”

  “Maybe I just haven’t found the girl that appreciates them yet.”

  “You will.”

  “Maybe I already have.”

  “Not now, Jasper.”

  I’m already half way up. I need to leave before I know that I won’t.

  “Whenever you need me, Pen.”

  “I know. Thank you, again.”

  A handshake seems like a dumb way to say goodbye, a kiss too. I mean, I kissed him after he scored that touchdown and I immediately regretted it, but that was in the heat of an emotional sporting moment and this? This is a quiet Irish pub and I feel a little tipsy. Thankfully Jasper makes the moment easy for me. Just before I escape, he takes my arm, and pulls me in towards him for a deep, thoughtful hug. I press my head against his chest, allow him to gather me up, feel light kisses against the top of my head and hold on for as long as I can before it seems inappropriate, hoping all the time it will never end.

  When I finally pull away from him, he’s looking at me in that way that tells me he’s telling me something and as much as I’m trying to avoid it, he knows I’m telling him it too, loud and clear, as though I’m on fucking loud speaker.

  I shake my head but I’m smiling too. “Ass-hole.”

  “See you in training, Penny.”

  “Not if I see you first.”

  Seven.

  Jasper

  Topher’s black eye lasts just under a week. If Harrison could afford to kick him off the team as well as kick his ass, he would. I’d love to have a go too, but his bases are already covered. Penny didn’t quite cut his dick off, but the way Topher tells it, boastfully and without shame, she wasn’t far off. She confronted him, he denied it until he was blue in the face, begged for mercy like the snivelling shit he is and tried to convince her she was mistaken. When she showed him the text messages he begged for forgiveness. The following morning his clothes were strewn all over the lawn in front of his house.

  Topher doesn’t even give a shit. It’s an inconvenience for him more than anything else. Penny made his life easy, but it could have been anyone. In Topher’s own words,

  “Any hole is a fucking goal. I’ll just find some other dumb bitch.”

  I nearly banged his head for that in the locker room before practice, and then I sacked his ass as hard as I could out on the field when we got there.

  “Fuck man, take it easy.”

  He’s already said he’s going at the end of the year, whatever happens, and neither Harrison nor Penny are going to try and stop him. I haven’t seen Pen all week, but that’s not surprising, especially if she want’s to keep out of Topher’s way. Harrison is showing restraint in a situation that must be killing him. If my daughter just got trodden on, I’d find it a lot harder to restrain myself from just a single punch. I’ve got to say though, it had the desired effect. Topher was totally fucking humiliated, right in front of every single member of his team. Harrison just strode up to him, asked him to take off his helmet and socked the motherfucker right under his eye. After that, he told him to put his helmet on and head out to the field, his eye already closing up fast, the rest of us just standing there in complete and utter silence.

  Topher’s moved out to a hotel while he finds something a little bit more permanent although what he says is, “Until Penny takes me back.”

  The guys more arrogant than I am, and definitely way more fucking delusional if he actually believes that. I get the impression he’s just saying it to look like it’s not affecting him, but I wouldn’t be surprised if the meat head actually thought it were possible.

  At the weekend, and despite my performance in the previous match, I’m on the fucking bench again and Jackson goes out in the position I should be starting in. I wait patiently to get put on, and then when we end the first half 10-0 down, I become a little bit more vocal about my opinions. Harrison is busy chewing off Topher’s ear for what he says is another sub-par performance, but it doesn’t matter. I know that if they put me on I can change this up and I’m not going to let Harrison waste that opportunity because he fucking hates me. I mean, he’s playing Topher and the guy just cheated on his only daughter. That puts me way higher up on his Christmas card list.

  “Put me on.”

  Harrison growls at me.

  “Not yet, Jasper.”

  “What the fuck? With all due respect, Sir. You’re a fucking idiot.”

  “Put him in, Harrison. Jackson’s doing shit.”

  Harrison points his thick finger at Topher before it comes to me. “You don’t get to say anything to me. And you-.”

  “Fuck you, Topher”, Jackson adds.

  “Fuck me? How many yards have you run today? One, three?”

  “If I was given space to run in.”

  “So it’s my fucking fault now is it?”

  Hunter stands up to face him. He’s about a foot taller than Jackson and about a hundred pounds heavier. “Yeah. You look like you’re made of glass out there.”

  “You’re on your ass too quickly to see me stop them coming for you.”

  “Yeah right, when? Next game?”

  “Shut the fuck up, the pair of you. Jackson I’ve been watching you and you’ve done shit. You’ve all done shit. Topher you’re throwing the ball like a little girl from the second grade. Hunter, Jackson’s right. Twice I’ve watched you get folded over, twice more pull yourself out of a tackle. No one is doing what they should be.”

  When I’m not even halfway done speaking I’ve got six of the team stepping to me.

  “It’s a fucking embarrassment. You, all of you should be fucking embarrassed. None more so than you, Harrison.”

  “Excuse me? You don’t get to talk to me like that.”

  “Someone has to.”

  “I’m going to fine you, Jasper, see if I don’t.”

  “Then fucking fine me, do what the fuck you need to do. I can’t sit here any longer and do nothing. You are all capable, I’ve seen the way you play in training, I’ve seen you run, Jackson, you block, Hunter, you throw, Topher and you, Harrison, command. Where the fuck are your balls?”

  “Penny cut Topher’s off I reckon.”

  Jackson’s comment makes Harrison growl.

  “Fuck you, Jackson.”

  “Alright, Jasper. What do you suggest, seeing as you are suddenly a fucking expert.”

  “Put me on. They are weak on the right hand side, if you take out seventy-two and forty-eight.”

  “What fucking right hand side?”

  “I don’t know what the fuck you call it, the defensive line that’s been smashing Jackson into the ground. You take out seventy-two and forty-eight you can get through the gap straight up the fucking middle.”

  “You want to go straight up the middle?”

  Jackson is sniggering to himself.

  “Well why the fuck didn’t I think of that?”

  I ignore Harrison and turn to Topher. “If you release me, I can get up that field so quick nobody will be able to catch me. You know that-.” I turn back to the group. “-You all fucking do. I can score on running plays or you can release me and float the ball into my hands. I can catch and I can run you’ve all seen it in training. Fuck, you
saw it last week. Use me.”

  “Are you going to shut the fuck up if I put you on?”

  “No, not until you do it week in week out and I prove to you that we can start winning again.”

  Harrison spits into a bucket on the floor.

  “Jackson you’re off.”

  “What the fuck?”

  Harrison jabs his finger into my chest. For a guy that can’t be more than fifty, he looks like he’s been chewed up and spat out. I don’t know how something as beautiful as Penny has come from this, but I can tell she’s got his fight or at least the fight he used to have.

  “Don’t fuck this up, Jasper.”

  “Are you serious?” Jackson butts in.

  “Do I look like I’m joking? You’ve had a chance, Jackson. Too many fucking chances actually. Jasper’s been on the field less than a minute and with his first touch he scores a touchdown. Already those stats are better than yours.”

  “Beginner’s fucking luck.”

  “We’ll see.”

  Jackson’s sore, I get it, but fuck him. If he can’t do what he’s suppose to do, then he shouldn’t be out on the field. I square up to Hunter. He’s my height, my build, but fat like a walrus. I don’t get how these guys can call themselves athletes looking like this. I know they don’t move very far but that’s half the fucking problem.

  “Pull out of a tackle again and I’ll show you why you shouldn’t.”

  “You stepping to me, English?”

  “I don’t fight girls.”

  “Oh, you think that’s funny?”

  “What I think is funny is that you don’t put on a bra before you go out and play.”

  “Motherfucker.”

  Hunter comes for me then but he’s way too slow. He lurches, swings out, pushes through the rest of the players but only gets close when I let him. I push his arm behind his back, drop my knee into the back of his and put a choke hold on him when he smashes to the ground.

  “That rage, Hunter, you feel it inside you, right?”

  “Get off me you prick.”

  “That’s what I need you to do out there.”

  I let him wriggle away and cough back air into his lungs.

  “Faggot”, Topher calls out and Hunter is up on his feet so quickly Topher has to take a few steps back before he gets another black eye.

  “I’m going to fucking kill you, Jasper.”

  “Alright, just do it after the game if you’re going to do it at all. Besides which, you might want to kill their linebacker first. I heard him cussing your mother on the way into the locker room. I didn’t want to say anything, but-.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “Alright, it’s show time.”

  Harrison calls us into the huddle.

  “Jasper, Topher, all of the rest of you motherfuckers, stop flirting with each other and start playing football.”

  I see Penny in the crowd watching us from the stands, separated from the rest of the wives and partners, as though she were just another one of our diehard fans. She smiles at me when I wave, but she looks sad. A weight off her but still fucking sad. I want to tell her I’ll cheer her up but I know the words won’t reach.

  “You fucking her? Is that what this is?”

  The words are Topher’s and he looks like he wants to swing for me. I push him away.

  “No I'm not fucking her.”

  “You’re a fucking piece of shit, English.”

  “I’m not the one that cheated on her.”

  “Stay away from her.”

  “I don’t think that’s up to you.”

  “I mean it. Stay the fuck away from her.”

  I see Harrison storming over ready to bang our heads. “You don’t deserve her”, I say, just before he makes it to us.

  “That isn’t for you to decide.”

  “I think she already has.”

  “We’ll see.”

  “I got to deal with this now too, what the fuck is wrong with you two?”

  “Nothing. We’re talking plays.”

  “I call the fucking plays, Topher.”

  Harrison pushes us apart and forces us both back to the bench. Sat down, Topher turns to me again.

  “She’d never go for someone like you, you aren’t her type. You’re English for one. For two, you fuck around just as much as I do. For three, you don’t live here after the end of the year.”

  “Nor do you if you transfer out.”

  “I transfer out, who do you think comes with me?”

  “You don’t even care about her.”

  “I care enough not to want her to fuck her life up with you.”

  “Like I said, Topher. That decision has never been yours.”

  Topher pulls me towards him so our helmets bang together. “I’m warning you, Jasper. On the field we connect, we’ve got the game pulling us together, and I respect you as an athlete and I’ve got your back. Off the field, don’t cross me. I’ve warned you already about Penny. We’ve broken up right now but she’s gonna come back to me just like she did the last time. There are a few things Penny can’t resist-.” Topher grabs his cock. “-and a few more she knows only I can provide for her. You get me, English?”

  I hold my hands up. There’s no point in carrying this on right now. We both know Penny’s not going to go back to him so whatever I say right now, I’ll be wasting my breath. I want to concentrate on the game and I know out of the two of us, Penny’s going to be watching one of us much more closely than the other.

  “Whatever.”

  “I’m your Captain make sure you respect that.”

  Harrison smacks his hand down on the top of my helmet so hard it makes my ears ring.

  “Right you pieces of shit, let’s make this happen.”

  When I get on, we are 17-0 down. We’ve given a gift of a touchdown away in the very first minute of the third quarter, and we look like we are on the brink of a full on fucking collapse. Our home fans are still cheering us on, but the wall of noise coming from the opposition supporters is overwhelming. This is a team that got to the semi-finals of the superbowl last year. This is a team we’d struggle to beat, even at our peak. I don’t give a shit about that and I definitely don’t care for statistics. Records can be changed at any time, and history is there for the winners to write. Even if half this side don’t give a shit whether we win or lose, I do, and I know Topher does too, even if he doesn’t want to admit it, even if it’s just to give Harrison a fuck you and Penny a nostalgic come on.

  It’s Topher’s responsibility but I do it anyway. I pull the team together and I bang helmets like Harrison has just done to mine, punch arms and slap chests hard to animate them. I tell Hunter I’ve just seen his Mom getting gangbanged in the locker room by their whole offensive unit, and Sparks that his Mom was queueing up to be next. I tell every single one of them that if we win, I’ll take them all out for dinner and if we lose they’ll be joining me on a twenty mile run.

  Just before we are ready, I wrap my arm around Topher’s neck and pull him close.

  “A grand for every pass you throw that gets caught, by me or anyone else. Every time you get sacked or a play ends without a point you owe me the same. You can handle that, right?”

  “Fuck you.”

  “Come on Topher, don’t tell me you really are a pussy. I thought you had way more confidence than that.”

  Topher eyeballs me. “You drop the ball, you fucking owe me, English.”

  “Alright. Just don’t throw me a hooky ball.”

  “I’ve never thrown a hooky ball in my life.”

  “Then let’s fucking do this and make sure we do it right. Penny’s watching after all.”

  “Just get the fuck into position and concentrate on what you do best. Keeping your mouth shut and your limp dick in your pants.”

  “According to Penny, I’m not the one with the limp dick.”

  “Fuck you, English.”

  “You keep saying that, I’ll begin to think you mean it.”

&n
bsp; It takes a while, but eventually we manage it. Hunter stands up tall, Sparks takes number forty-eight out of the game for just long enough, Topher sidesteps a sack perfectly and passes the ball to me confidently enough and quickly enough that I’m already up to nearly full speed after half a dozen strides. The looks I get from their defensive line as I tear it into shreds are priceless.

  “Too slow”, I shout. “Far too fucking slow.”

  I’ve always been blessed with speed, even with the size of my frame, and once I get going, very little can stop me. I’m like that in other areas of my life too, if there’s something I want, there is very little that can stop me from getting it.

  There is one player between me and the end zone and there isn’t time to go around him. To be fair, he gives as good as he’s probably got, and to a lesser man it would be enough to stop them. He doesn’t stop me. He does little else than rebound off my chest and end up banging his head in the dirt. He’s still there, flat out, while I’m holding the ball up into the air, leaning against the goal post and waving to the one girl in the crowd who I know will appreciate it ten times more than anyone else. I can’t see her, but I know she’ll be looking.

  Harrison’s still working through a list of curse words when we join him again on the bench.

  “You took your fucking sweet time about that.”

  “Sorry, Harrison. Topher was fucking around.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “That’s a grand you owe me.”

  “I’ll pay you if you do it again enough times that we win.”

  “You keep pretending you know how to throw properly and that might be possible.”

  Guess what? By the end of the game, Topher owes me three grand. We fucking win. Nobody can believe it, least of all Harrison. He does a victory lap around the field and then fist pumps the air so hard I think he’s having a heart attack. I get two touchdowns in total, that catch and then a rushed play that nets me over sixty yards. Our wide reciever Benks gets the other, from a plumb pass out of nowhere by Topher who finally remembers how to play.

  Everyone’s fucking ecstatic. Nobody can fucking believe it. The game ends 27-24 in our favor with three touchdowns and two kicked field goals to three touchdowns and a single field goal. It was tense, nail-biting at the end but we fucking did it.

 

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