The grass of Lambeau Field is kind of squishy after being trampled on for the last couple of hours. Staring at the gray sky above, while my teammates hover around me, I feel frozen. My QB and a couple linemen are frantically waving their arms at the sideline requesting our trainer to run out on the field.
The crowd starts chanting, “Rhodes are closed! Rhodes are closed!” Clap, clap, clap clap clap. It’s a play on the cheer that Vikings fans tagged me with, “Rhodes are open.” I’m a shifty running back that finds holes to run through even when the path appears closed. I actually really liked that chant, until now.
Packer fans are the worst.
After what feels like an eternity, but I’m sure was only a minute or two, our head trainer, Stuart, reaches me and begins an assessment. I block out the annoying chants and focus on my trainer, coach and teammates who are all trying to be positive, but I know what this is. This is a season ending injury. Possibly career ending.
I wonder if my family is watching. Of course, they’re not. Did you get a concussion too?
I switch my train of thought back to my future in the NFL. This is only my third season and after a record setting rookie year, followed by a stellar second season, this season was shaping up to be better than the last. To say I’m disappointed with my current situation is an understatement.
I was named to the All-Rookie team and last season I was invited to the Pro Bowl. But personal accolades aside, this team had a shot to make a run. Until now.
“It’ll be fine, Rhodes. It’ll be fine,” Trey keeps repeating. Maybe more for himself than me. He is in his second season and has been lighting it up after the old QB1 retired, but it’s my legs that open his passing lanes. Defenses are so worried about me breaking a run that they focus on me and leave our wide receivers open for Trey. As a result, our offense is ranked eighth in the entire NFL this season.
“These things bounce back quick these days, bro. You’ll be okay,” Sefon McGown, our best wide receiver, offers while taking a knee beside me.
“I know, Stef,” I force a smile inside my helmet.
“Hey,” Eric Millburn says as he kneels on the other side of me next to Stuart. Coach Millburn, or Millsy, is our running backs coach, my position coach.
“Hey, Millsy,” I smile.
“Give me that,” he says and reaches for my helmet. He pulls it off my head to reveal my green mohawk. Ever since college I’ve dyed my mohawk the color of our opponent’s team colors. This week is green for Green Bay.
“How does this feel?” Stuart asks as he shifts my knee into a different position.
“Not great.” I wince as he keeps twisting and asking me questions.
“Can you just get me off the field?” I ask Millsy.
He nods. Trey grabs one hand and Millsy the other as they pull me to standing. I put one arm around each of their shoulders and hobble off the field putting minimal pressure to my injured knee. Vikings fan cheer so loud it makes me smile. As I get to the sideline and Millsy flips the training tent over, I give the crowd a thumbs up as I duck inside.
I love Minnesota and I love these fans.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried this injury could be career ending. Even though ACLs are a dime a dozen and most players return quickly, I’m also worried I won’t be as good when I return. My position requires quick footwork, sudden sharp cuts and bursts of speed. That takes its toll on two good knees. So, yeah, I’m nervous.
I want to stay in Minnesota and have a career here. I want them to want me.
This state is so different than what I imagined. For one, “Minnesota Nice” is a real thing. These people wave hello as they pass, offer a smile even if they don’t know you, and make you feel like the most important person in the world on the daily.
They talk cool too. I’ve learned the meaning of lefse, youbetcha, and oh, for Pete’s sake (he’s not a real person). Don’t even get me started on the Ole and Lena jokes.
Outdoors, the landscape is beautiful, green and lush in the summer and sparkly in the winters with all the snow. There’s tons of outdoor activities to do even though the winters are harsh. Skiing, snowshoeing, snowmobiling, ice fishing. Next winter I promised myself I’d learned to skate. We’re the State of Hockey after all. Summers are magnificent. Perfect weather for fishing, boating, swimming, and paddle boarding and I live on a lake which makes doing all those things very convenient. This state is a year-round playground.
My team? These guys have become family the last three years. I’ve been in two weddings and have six adorable “nieces and nephews.” Although, I’m not their real uncle they all refer to me as Uncle Rhodes.
After a long, turbulent grind to get here, this is as close to content as I’ve ever been. Am I happy? Sure. Do I still feel like I’m missing something? Absolutely.
✽✽✽
Surgery on a torn ACL is not as bad as it used to be. I got hurt in late October and it’s early November now, but I’m already off to rehab.
I’m in phase two of my recovery. The first two weeks post-surgery were painful, but I worked with Stuart to get my range of motion back once the swelling went down so I could start my actual physical therapy. Today is my first day at Canopy Orthopedics and I’m jacked. This is the beginning of my way back.
While I’m done for the remainder of this season I should be back strong and ready by August for preseason, at least that’s what Stu told me. Stu made my appointments because he said they are the best of the best when it comes to physical therapy. They have an office in downtown Minneapolis, but they also have an office close to our stadium on the west side of the Twin Cities which is more convenient than driving downtown from my house in Bliss Lake.
Being off crutches is fucking amazing too by the way. Those fuckers hurt my armpits. I’m still moving slowly with my knee secured in a brace and ace wraps, but I’m moving without help.
I slide out of my Audi A8. It’s white with purple rims for the Vikings. That baby was my first big purchase with my signing bonus besides the $100,000 check I sent to my best friend, Donovan Blake. When we were in college I promised him I’d pay him back for all the shit he paid for once I made it. He didn’t believe me. The video he sent me of him tearing up check into tiny pieces and blowing it into the camera was classic Blake. He’s in the NFL too and besides that his family is loaded. He didn’t need the money, but it was the principle of it.
Gimping my way up the sidewalk I stare at the massive building. It’s a brick and mental façade with a huge windows. Canopy Orthopedics is written is bright yellow cursive letters over the door. This place certainly looks state-of-art as Stu promised.
“Hi, Jessup Rhodes,” I offer my name at the registration desk. “I start ACL rehab today.”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Rhodes. I know who you are,” a very attractive, young receptionist replies with a flirtatious smile. “It looks like Dr. Colletti and Dr. Sutton will be your physical therapists throughout this process.”
“They any good?” I ask with a wink. I’m partially serious, but partially flirting. I want the best doctors to make sure I’m back to being the best when this is over, but I didn’t earn the titles of “Most Eligible Bachelor in the NFL” and “NFL’s Biggest Playboy” for no reason.
“Dr. Colletti has been here for twenty years. He is the best of the best. Dr. Sutton is new. She is in her residency, but she was top of her class at the U of M,” she replies and pops her chest a little higher. Nice tits.
“So I got the old guy and the newb.”
She giggles, “Basically, but both are very good. I promise.”
“Well, I promise to have you screaming my name for dessert if you let me take you to dinner tonight.”
Her face blushes the brightest shade of pink and I know I’m in, literally and figuratively.
“Well, I get off at seven,” she whispers.
“Why are you whispering?”
“We’re not supposed to date the clients,” she puts a hand up to cup her mouth as if
someone could read her lips.
“Well we can skip the dinner part and just get to the fucking then. Is there a no fucking clause?”
The pink of her cheeks turns into a deep red and she smiles. She shakes her head.
“Good, I’ll stop back before I leave.” I flash her a brilliant smile and flick her name tag which reads Monique.
She squirms in her chair just as I hear my name being called. “See you in a bit, Monique,” I say with a wink her cheeks turn pink again as I hobble off toward to where I heard my name being called.
A rounder woman in her mid-fifties was the one who called my name. “Mr. Rhodes?”
“That’s me,” I reply as I gimp alongside of her while we make our way back to the rehabilitation area.
“I’m Amy, I’m the assistant for Doctors Colletti and Sutton. I’ll be keeping track of your progress and helping you with anything else you need during your time here. We have all of your appointments scheduled through Mr. Andring, but if you need to change one here and there, Monique, at the front desk, can assist you.”
Oh, she can assist me.
“Sounds all right.”
“What is your date of birth?”
“August nineteenth.”
“Address?”
“One-seven-six-eight-five Eagle View Lane, Bliss Lake.”
“Okay, you’re the right guy,” she confirms.
I motion to my leg, “This didn’t give it away?”
“Everyone has one of those here, sir.”
“Touché.”
We round the corner to an area with several blue tables that remind me of an athletic training room.
“This is our physiotherapy room for stretching exercises and any treatments you may require. Over there,” she motions toward a doorway, “is our aquatics facility. We have six pools with treadmills. I’m sure you will utilize those eventually. Through those doors,” she motions the other way, “is our weight room and rehab facilities. Zero gravity treadmills and state-of-the-art machines and free weights. Any questions?”
“Nope. Just ready to get started.”
“Okay, have a seat on the table and your doctors will be over soon.”
I smile and she shuffles off toward another door marked “Staff Only.”
I hop my ass up on the table, well more like slide and scoot, because jumping isn’t an option at this point. I lay back, put my hands behind my head, and stare at the ceiling. Thoughts about this journey are running through my head when a laugh pings in my ears then shoots straight to my heart and has my cock at full attention.
Stanzy. I sit straight up and grab the pendant hanging from the gold chain around my neck. My heart is beating so loud I can hear it in my ears. It can’t be her. How did I not realize she is the Dr. Sutton they were referring to? I knew she was living in Minneapolis. I’ve stalked her social media like a madman for the last seven years.
I watch as the first girl to ever love me and to ever break my heart weaves her way through several training tables toward me with an older gentleman who looks like a grown up version of Doogie Howser.
He’s touching her arm and she’s laughing at something he says. Motherfucker. I’m going to cut his hands off. This strange burst of jealousy catches me off guard. I haven’t felt jealous over a female in… well, since the last time I was jealous of Stanzy’s fiancé. I wanted to punch that dude in the face and throw him off his stupid ass boat.
I look at her left hand and there’s the infinity ring surrounding her middle finger, but a noticeably empty ring finger. Holy shit.
Suddenly, my palms start sweating. I’m nervous as hell.
“Mr. Rhodes?” the man asks, but I’m frozen. My eyes are locked on Stanzy and hers are looking anywhere but at me. “I’m Dr. Colletti and this is Dr. Sutton.” I can’t speak.
She is fucking stunning. Drop-dead, come in your pants like you’re a teenager gorgeous. The pictures I saw while Insta-stalking her don’t do her justice.
Blonde hair with honey swirls, pulled into a high ponytail accentuating that neck I’ve kissed before. Her hazel eyes are averted, but I can see gold and green flecks swirling with the light brown surrounded by long, black lashes. I’ll never forget those eyes.
She has delicate features which make her look younger than she is, small nose and perfect, pouty Cupid’s bow lips. Those lips. Fuck me. Those luscious lips that I’ve missed and craved ever since the first time I tasted them. It takes all of my willpower not to reach out and touch the satin skin of her cheek which is slightly pink as she blushes.
“Stanzy?” I ask, completely ignoring Dr. What’s-His-Nuts.
Her gaze finally meets mine and she blinks those hazel eyes at me.
“How’ve you been, Jess?” she asks casually.
It’s been too long since I’ve heard my name come out of her mouth.
Chapter 2: Stanzy
The sounds of birds chirping, cars driving by, and people exercising at the lake fill my ears as I sip my coffee on the balcony of our condo. I inhale the cold November air, but I welcome the sting to my lungs as I do because the sun is actually shining making it a warm day for a Minnesota winter.
“Ahh,” I say to myself and the sparrow that just landed on the railing of my balcony. “Beautiful day little buddy.” He flies off, not appreciating my moment in the slightest.
I walk back through the sliding glass door into the condo I share with my twin sister, Staley. After graduation, we rented a small, but comfortable two bedroom condo that overlooks Bliss Lake.
It’s trendy, a bit hipster, but amazingly beautiful. Our condo is situated between the lake and a strip mall that includes a Whole Foods grocery store and my favorite little Italian restaurant, Luna Blu. Across the large lake are the million dollar mansions, but we can’t see them due to all the trees protecting the privacy of their occupants.
Our apartment is decorated in shades of gray, navy and white, thanks mainly to my sister and her artist chic décor.
Staley and I decided to stay in Minnesota after graduation because we grew to love it here and I was accepted into the Doctor of Physical Therapy program at the University of Minnesota. I never would have guessed that this would be our home once we left Peachberry Park. Yet, here we are.
“You heading in soon?” Staley asks as she strolls into the kitchen, hair wrapped in a towel from her shower, yoga pants and an oversized sweatshirt are her “work clothes” today. She is a freelance graphic designer and works from home unless she has a client meeting. Her work is amazing and over the last few years her business has really boomed.
“Yup, just finishing my coffee before I hop in the shower.”
“Any big names today?” she asks as she wiggles her eyebrows at me.
After I passed my exam to become a certified physical therapist, I was offered residency at Canopy Orthopedics. They are the largest clinic in the Twin Cities and work with some of the biggest names in Minnesota sports.
“Why couldn’t I have been assigned to the Lynx?” I ask, exasperation dripping off my voice intentionally.
“Oh stop it. You love getting hit on by hot football players.”
I glare at her.
“Okay, fine. I retract my previous statement. But seriously, any hotties today?”
“I won’t know until I get in,” I reply with a shrug. Staley is always hoping I’ll hook her up with one of the professional athletes I’m working with.
“Still say you should have gone out with that one guy,” she says and takes a sip out of her coffee mug.
“Brad or…”
“Brad, yes, Brad!” Staley claims. Brad Laverne was a backup quarterback for the Vikings. He asked me out a few times when he was in rehabbing his shoulder.
“He was traded shortly after they drafted Trey Kopp. I’d say I dodged a bullet.”
“To the Raiders. He was hot here, now he’s California hot. You fucked that one up.”
The one awkward part of this job is being hit on by the male clientele. I’
ve repeatedly turned down any offers of dinner, drinks or to sit on their faces. Athletes aren’t my thing anymore.
“He was, but just no, Stay. You know my policy.”
“Yeah, yeah, no athletes. Such bullshit.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m going to get ready for work. Enjoy your sweatpants, lazy ass!”
“You’re just jealous!” she shouts back.
I am. I miss college for that exact reason.
✽✽✽
When I arrived at Canopy Orthopedics this morning I was mentally prepared for a normal day. A day of helping our clients who are working hard to return to their normal active lives.
For my residency, I was assigned to Dr. Anthony Colletti and his team. Our clients are all football athletes, mainly from the Minnesota Vikings and the University of Minnesota Golden Gophers, but we also see football players from area high schools and smaller colleges if we have openings. I really, really love my job.
My arrival today was anything but ordinary. Our assistant Amy handed me my stack of client portfolios and it was not my intention to forcefully spit my coffee all over her face as I read through the names.
Jessup Rhodes.
“Oh my God! Amy, I’m sorry,” I proclaim. I set the stack of folders down and begin furiously patting her down with napkins.
“Just. Stop,” she says while holding up her hand. Amy, the ever calm, yet ever pissed off assistant from hell, who is fucking dynamite at her job.
Jessup Rhodes will be here soon. Fuck my life. Maybe I can fake a migraine. But that would get me out of today, not the next year of his rehab. ARGH! Just want to scream.
I know the man I’m about to see for the first time since our senior year of college isn’t the same man I was in love with in high school. I’m not naïve, I have the internet. Although I’m not proud of it, I’ve stalked him on Instagram, and TMZ, and ESPN… okay, the list is long, stop judging.
He’s transitioned from the boy who was my first love to the NFL’s sexiest man and biggest slut. He’s been photographed with models, actresses, and too many Jane Doe’s for me to count. Oh yeah and in college? Not much better. Jersey chasers invaded his feed daily.
Completion (Cambria University Series Book 3) Page 2