Dirty Quarterback: A Secret Baby Sports Romance (Blitz Book 1)

by S. J. Bishop

I was so overcome with fear and anger that, for once, I was actually glad to see Myron. Instinctively I threw my arms around him, pulling him into a giant hug, clinging to him as my tears fell and fell.

  "Miss, are you coming?" one of the paramedics asked.

  "Yes. Can he come too?" I asked, feeling all of a sudden like I needed a friend and realizing that Myron was the closest thing I had to one right now.

  "Yeah, get in," the paramedic responded. We made it to the hospital in what was probably record time but felt like an eternity. I held Myron’s hand the whole way, grateful that I wasn’t alone or with Carter, that liar, or my judgmental mother.

  In the waiting room, Myron sat with me while my mom went to get us all some coffee. She couldn’t hide the look of surprise at discovering that I had a male friend who seemed so intent on staying by my side during this.

  I couldn’t stop crying into my hands until finally my body was drained of water. "I thought she was dead," I said to Myron. "I really did."

  Myron put a comforting hand on my back, running it up and down my spine. He began massaging my shoulders.

  "Myron..." I turned to him, not wanting to give him the wrong idea. But the look in his eyes was so pure, so filled with love and desire that I couldn’t find it in me to tell him to stop. Not now. Instead, before I knew what I was doing I leaned in and kissed him. His lips were warm and wet and filled with longing.

  "I’m sorry," I said quickly.

  "No!" Myron replied. "Don’t be."

  "It’s just that... I feel so alone so much of the time."

  "I know exactly what that’s like," he said.

  "I... I had a friend who recently came back into town. For a minute or two, I thought he might... that we might... but now I know that can never be."

  Myron wrapped his arms tightly around me and inhaled deeply, like he was drinking me in. "You’re talking about Carter Stone, aren’t you?"

  I pulled away, looking at him with shock.

  "I saw him drop you off," he said. "When I was out taking my walk. You looked upset."

  “Oh,” I relaxed. "Yeah, I was." The anger I had felt at Carter resurfaced with his memory. "I never want to see him again."

  "Don’t worry," Myron said, "you won’t have to."

  10

  Carter

  Hours had gone by since I dropped Ava off, but I still couldn’t keep my mind off of her smile or the way she’d lain against me during the night. Or the angry words she’d spoken when I’d dropped her off. I knew I deserved them.

  I swallowed the last of the champagne—Hannah had insisted I have some—and listened to Olivia and Hannah prattle on together about the wedding. Hannah had tried her dress on at least half a dozen times. Olivia had tried hers on even more. At one point, she’d attempted to get me to sneak away for a quickie, but I had dodged that bullet by telling her I wasn’t feeling well.

  My phone rang and I looked down at the number. I didn’t recognize it, but that didn’t mean much. It could have been some girl I’d given my number to one drunken night or maybe a reporter.

  I stood up and went into the hallway so as not to disturb Hannah’s dissertation to Olivia on proper wedding etiquette. "Hello?"

  "Is this Carter Stone?" a man asked. I didn’t recognize the caller.

  "It sure is," I put on my best interview voice.

  "Mr. Stone, I’m calling from Dover Medical."

  The hospital? That would have been my last guess.

  "Mr. Stone, I’m sorry to tell you that a friend of yours, Miss Ava Hart, has had a serious accident. She’s asking for you. I’d come right away if I were you."

  "Oh my god! Is she alright?"

  "I really can’t say at this time. But it isn’t good."

  "I’ll be right there."

  I hung up and grabbed my keys without bothering to stop and tell Hannah or Olivia where I was going. I had to get to Ava. I’d call Hannah later and let her know, but the last thing I needed was Olivia tagging along.

  I jumped in the car and took off towards Dover Medical, pushing the pedal down the floor. The road curved, so I eased up and started to brake, but nothing happened as my foot hit the pedal. I brought my foot up and pushed it down again, pumping the brakes but feeling no traction whatsoever.

  I could feel my heart racing and I started to breathe faster. I tried to control the car as the road curved, but a tree suddenly there was a tree right in front of me. I heard a loud crash as my car hit it head on and then an image of Ava leaning into my shoulder swam before my eyes just as I slipped into a blackened void.

  Part II

  11

  Carter

  I opened my eyes and searched the space for something recognizable. There was a blurred white ceiling with hard yellow lights shining down on me. The lights merged into one long, bright light with a halo around it. I blinked rapidly and they slowly came into focus.

  There was a curtain around the bed, or maybe the lights were playing tricks with my eyes. I blinked again and the curtain disappeared. It felt like I was lying on concrete, and I tried to stretch my arm out, feeling for a sidewalk or driveway. I must have gotten drunk and fallen down outside some bar somewhere. But then my fingers touched something soft and unrecognizable.

  "Where am I?" I croaked.

  I hadn’t even realized that anyone else around until I heard a shout, "He’s awake!" A flash went off, sending me into a dizzying spin and my eyes tried to adjust once more to the new onslaught of lights coming at me from all directions.

  "Dammit!" someone shouted. "I thought I told you to get those reporters out of here!"

  "Sorry, Sergeant Wilkins," a voice said. There was the opening and closing of a door and the hum of a million voices in my ears.

  "Where am I?"

  Sergeant Wilkins stepped forward. "You’re at Dover Medical," he said.

  "Now, Sergeant," a new voice said. "I need to check him over before you start questioning him. I told you that already." I could tell the voice belonged to a man who spoke with authority. Probably not a good sign. I blinked hard and finally the faces before me solidified, and I could distinguish two men in the room with me. One wore a policeman’s uniform, the other a doctor’s.

  The doctor bent towards me now, shining a light in his eyes. "I’m Doctor Martin. I’m head of surgery here at Dover Medical. Can you tell me your name?" he asked.

  "Uh," I had to think a moment. It kind of scared me. This was like no hangover I’d ever had before. "Carter," I finally said. "Carter Stone."

  "And what team do you play for, Carter?" the doctor asked.

  "The 49ers."

  "And are they going to go all the way to the Super Bowl this year?"

  I grinned. "You bet we are."

  The doctor stepped back. He was an older man, probably in his early sixties, and he smiled warmly at me. "I’m gonna hold you to that," he said. "If the 49ers lose, I’ll take that steel plate back out of your head and keep it for ransom."

  Steel plate? Oh my God, was it that serious?

  "Sorry, sorry," said the doctor as he saw what must have been a look of terror on my face. "Doctor humor. You’re fine. No steel plate. Just some bumps and bruises."

  "What happened? Why am I here?"

  "That’s what we’d like to know," Sergeant Wilkins said. Dr. Martin silenced him with a wave of his hand.

  "You don’t remember what happened?" Dr. Martin asked.

  I scanned the room, reaching back into my mind, trying to come up with the last thing I could remember. My eyes landed on a figure asleep in the corner, Ava. Suddenly it all came back to me. I’d been with Olivia and Hannah when I’d gotten a call. Ava was at the hospital. She was asking for me. I was rushing to get here when... "I crashed."

  "Damn right you crashed," Sergeant Martin said. "Almost busted up the oldest tree in Dover Chase."

  "It was a suicide," I quipped. "That tree just jumped right out in front of me. It must’ve really wanted to die. I’m sorry it lived to tell the tale." I heard
a giggle from the corner and saw Ava’s eyes open. She was still curled on the chair but she was looking at me with concern and a hint of amusement.

  "I get it," Sergeant Wilkins said. "Well maybe you won’t think it’s so funny when I tell you that we’re pressing full charges against you. You tested positive for alcohol—"

  "Though under the legal limit," Dr. Martin said.

  "Still positive though. I’d have thought a guy like you, as big as you are, your tolerance would at least be high enough so that you wouldn’t hit a tree."

  "Alright, out," Dr. Martin said, shooing Sergeant Wilkins towards the door.

  "Hey, it wasn’t my fault," I remembered the feel of the brake pedal touching the floor and the panic I felt as nothing happened. "My brakes didn’t work."

  "Yeah, like I haven’t heard that one before," Sergeant Wilkins said.

  "Can’t you check the brakes?" I pleaded. "I’m telling you, they didn’t work right."I couldn’t tell whether the sergeant hated all football players, or just me but decided it didn’t matter. If I couldn’t get the cops to listen to me I was screwed. I had already begun to make a name for myself with the barroom brawl and now this.

  Dr. Martin shoved the sergeant back out the door. More flashes went off before the door closed again. Dr. Martin turned back to me and sighed. "You’re going to be alright physically, but this town takes a pretty tough stance on drinking and driving I’m afraid."

  "It wasn’t my fault." I sensed the doc knew I was telling the truth.

  "I believe you," Ava said, rising and coming to my side. I squeezed her hand, grateful to have her here with me.

  "Thanks."

  Dr. Martin looked at Ava and back at me. "I’ll be back a little later to check on you," he said. "We need to run a few more tests before I can release you. For now, just try to relax and buzz if you need anything."

  Dr. Martin left us alone, and I could hear him in the hallway, bearing the questions of the press that he was desperately trying to push out of the hospital. God, how had they all found out about the accident so quickly?

  There were so many reporters outside my room that I could hardly make out what they were saying. One reporter with a loud, booming voice managed to rise above the others. It was the only question I could make out clearly. "Will there be jail time?"

  12

  Ava

  "How long have you been here?" Carter asked. He was still holding my hand. The warmth from it felt good, and even though he was lying in that hospital bed, he looked healthy and strong.

  "Oh, I’ve been here all night." Lily was only two hallways down from Carter’s room. I’d spent the whole night bouncing back and forth between them, not falling asleep until a couple of hours ago, when I’d finally closed my eyes for a moment—thinking to rest them—only to be awoken just moments ago by that policeman yelling at Carter.

  I cried so many tears over Lily last night that I didn’t think I had any fresh ones left. Then I heard that Carter was being brought in. The nurses were all talking about it like it was a piece of juicy gossip. Carter had crashed his car while drunk, almost killing himself. No one had any more information than that just yet. It made me frantic. Was he alive or dead? I’d had no idea.

  I paced Lily’s room and kept pacing it until my parents had come in. Myron had left some time before, and I’d almost wished that he was here again to comfort me or bring news of how Carter was doing. Then my dad had come in, taken one look at me and insisted I go get some air. So I left Lily in their hands and went to find Carter.

  His face was bruised more than when I’d last seen it, but he’d already had several scrapes on his skin from the many fights he’d been in in the last few days. He didn’t look worse off, except that his hand was bandaged and he had tubes poking out of him.

  I knew that normally I probably wouldn’t have been allowed in Carter’s room. Given his status as a celebrity, his room was off limits to all but family and a few staff members. However, from all my recent trips to the hospital with Lily, Dr. Martin knew me pretty well. In fact, he was the same doctor who had saved Lily’s life the night she’d been brought in. When I told him that Carter was a close friend, he had arranged for me to come and go from his room as I pleased.

  "You’ve been here all night?" Carter asked, touched. "Just for me?"

  "Well—"

  I turned to look as I heard the door snap open, and Hannah and Olivia burst onto the scene. Carter pulled his hand free from mine and I tried not to wince. Oliva took one look at us and freaked out.

  "What the hell is going on here?" she screamed. "We get a call that you’re in the emergency room and we rush down here only to find you making out with this tramp?"

  "Olivia!" Carter shouted. I could feel my face reddening.

  "We didn’t really rush here," Hannah said. "I mean we tried," she added, looking at Carter, "but the nurse who called said you were stable and we were a little hung over—"

  Carter ignored his sister and turned to Olivia, "Ava came here to see me, just like you. She’s an old friend. I’ve already explained that to you." He paused. "And we weren’t making out."

  "And I’m not a tramp," I said, looking Olivia squarely in the eyes.

  "That’s not what I hear," Olivia said, smirking at me.

  My head started pounding as the blood rushed to my temples. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

  "It means that eighteen-year-old unmarried girls don’t knock themselves up," Oliva sneered.

  "Olivia," Hannah said, putting a hand on her arm. "That’s way out of line." Hannah looked almost as upset as I felt. I was glad to see that at least Hannah still cared enough to stick up for me, though no one was exactly telling Olivia to get lost.

  "I didn’t come here just to see Carter," I said.

  Tears threatened to pool in my eyes but I fought them back. I was sure I already looked like a gigantic mess. With no makeup, no sleep, and having cried all night, I probably looked like an old, stained pillow.I could feel how puffy my eyes were and I knew that Olivia was probably critiquing everything about my appearance. Of course even hungover, she looked like she belonged on a runway

  "Oh really?" Olivia said. "Are you finally looking for a husband? Good choice, searching the hospital wards. I think all the old, rich guys are on the upper floors though."

  I couldn’t believe the cruelty of this woman. She glanced over at Hannah, who looked embarrassed. Carter looked upset but seemed content to let Olivia berate me. If this was the woman who he loved, then they could have each other.

  "Look," I said, finding new courage. I was too tired and too worried to put up with this snob any longer. "My daughter’s also on this floor. I’ve been with her all night. I only came in to Carter’s room when I found out he was here too. I thought a friendly face might cheer him up, but I guess I should’ve just left him to himself. He obviously prefers a total bitch to a friendly face."

  Olivia’s smile faltered and Hannah’s face went white. I could feel Carter looking at me.

  "Lily’s here?" he asked, concern etching deep lines across his face.

  "Yes," I snapped. "But none of you would ever know that, would you? You all seem to think the most important person in your life is yourself. I hope you get better fast, Carter, I really do. But I have to get back to my three-year-old daughter. She’s the most important person in my life."

  Hannah smacked Olivia’s arm.

  "Sorry," Olivia mumbled. But she didn’t sound particularly sorry to me.

  "Wait," Hannah said. I looked at my old best friend. Her own eyes seemed bright with tears now too. "My rehearsal dinner is coming up. Why don’t you come to it?"

  "I don’t think so, Hannah."

  "Please," Hannah replied. "I wish you would."

  "Yeah," Carter said. "Me too."

  Maybe I was judging them a little unfairly. Everyone except Olivia, that was. After all, they were probably dealing with their own shock at what had happened with Carter, and here I was expecting them to mak
e me feel wanted. "I can’t come," I said. "I have to work."

  "I haven’t told you when it is yet," Hannah replied.

  "It doesn’t matter. I’m always working. Or I’m with Lily." I couldn’t fight back the tears any longer. They spilled over as I opened the door. A flash went off in my face. "Wrong girl!" the photographer shouted. I closed the door behind me. The photographers made a path for me, not caring who I was or why I was there. I wasn’t significant enough for them to care about.

  13

  Carter

  Olivia pushed me out of my room and over to the nurse’s station, while I waited for someone to come and officially release me. The doctor had finally given his consent for my departure, and they had managed to get the reporters out of the hospital long enough for me to make my way out of the room without being accosted.

  I supposed in a way it was good, that so many people wanted my story. It meant that despite everything, my popularity had not waned. I knew it was egotistical, but I liked being the center of attention. Though I had to admit that now was not exactly the greatest timing. Olivia still seemed pretty pissed. She pushed me along the hall and "accidentally" bumped into things every few feet.

  I had never realized how jealous she could be. We’d each had our own affairs over the years. I knew all about hers, and she knew just as well about mine. She’d never expressed much concern for them before. Perhaps that was because she’d never sensed real competition before.

  Wait, was I admitting that Ava was competition? I cared for her, sure. But how much exactly?Enough to dump Olivia for good? She was a supermodel. I realized suddenly, how shallow that sounded. Was I only with Olivia because some part of me believed that there was no feat than dating a model? Had I always been so shallow, or had it grown like a fungus? If so, when did it start?

  I already knew the answer to that though. It had started the second I left Dover Chase. I hated to admit it, but the things you read about yourself in the press and online... they could go to your head if you weren’t careful. And I hadn’t been.