Inheritance Goals: A Sports Romance

by McKenna James

  Love you, Mads.

  Bryce

  I shuffled through the other letters but didn’t have the stomach to open them again. I knew what they said. I knew what they wanted. I flipped through several pictures I’d put next to the letters. All the pictures were of Bryce and me, him usually without a shirt on. Luckily, my thoughts at the time of the pictures were not pictured.

  When the doorbell rang, I shoved the letter into its envelope and stuck it in the book. The bell rang again as I was opening the door.

  “Bryce?”

  “I know, I know, you were supposed to pick me up. But I was in the neighborhood.” He motioned toward his car. “Better get going,” he said.

  I grabbed my purse and followed Bryce to the car, letting him open my door.

  “You sure the place is still open?” I asked.

  Bryce nodded. He pulled away from the curb and placed his hand on my knee. “I’m glad you’ve changed your mind,” he said.

  “I’m not totally sold on the idea, Bryce. We’ve been apart for almost ten years. We still need to get to know each other. You really think you could love me again?” I cringed at what his answer might be.

  “Considering I never stopped loving you, it’s really no problem for me. But, I agree, we may be different people than we were back then.”

  “I read one of your letters right before you showed up,” I said. “I’m sorry for what happened.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  We rode in silence for several minutes. I kept opening an old wound. “Other than football, what’s been keeping you busy?” Lame. In other words, have you been seeing anyone else? If so, who? If so, how serious?

  “I’ve dated off and on. Nothing serious. When I was traded to the Hurricanes last year, I cut off a relationship with a pretty special woman.” He took the next left, and we headed out of the city. “She was pissed, but I thought it was unfair to her. Knowing what the situation could turn into.”

  “You still leave the bathroom door open when you’re taking a crap?” I asked and waited.

  Bryce shook his head and then nodded. “I can’t even believe you fucking remember that, Mads. Of all the things to remember.”

  “You still get gas from cheap beer?” I asked. “Seems like I remember you could play a tune or two after you had a couple of Coors.” He pinned me with a glare.

  “Okay, my bad,” she said. “But hopefully you’ll find out soon enough.”

  I reached up and rested my arm on his seat while I ran my fingers through his dark hair. He’d not shaven, and a five o’clock shadow lined his face. His biceps flexed as he held the steering wheel. His hairy legs were perfectly tan. His Rolling Stones tee fit tight and emphasized his muscles. Except for the thirty pounds of muscle he had added, Bryce was a spitting image of the man from ten years ago. He still spoke with charm, and his tone carried the amount of care a doctor might use with a patient. I believed in perfect men, Bryce at the top of the list.

  “What about you, Mads? I mean, I know what you’ve been up to: school, your little brother, running the family business. But what’s changed?”

  I shrugged. “I took a photography class a few years ago. As sad as it sounds, I spend a lot of time alone, taking pictures of things.”

  “Things?” he asked.

  “The beach. Animals. Plants. Those sorts of things.”

  He placed his hand on my knee. “So that thing you learned?”

  I looked at him and smiled. “What thing?” I asked. Some things about Bryce had not changed. His jaw moved back and forth, and I sensed him having trouble asking the question. “The way I licked your cock while sucking it?”

  Bryce’s eyebrow shot up. “You’re a potty mouth now?” he asked.

  “What’re you, two-years-old?” she asked.

  “Sometimes. Just not used to you talking like that.”

  This was true. I had always been the prim and proper girl whose father expected nothing but high morals and strong values. Although living under my father’s thumb had been rough at times, once he was gone, I felt the veil of oppression lift. I would still rather have him here, but his death did allow my wings to stretch. I shrugged. “There’s a lot of things you may need to get used to.”

  “Works both ways,” Bryce said. “And yeah, I do leave the bathroom door open when I take a crap.”

  “Yeah, me too,” I said. Bryce’s eyes widened. “I’m kidding.”

  He took the next left and down a dirt road.

  Though the area had become overgrown with trees and other plants, I still remembered the times we came out to the cabin to sit and dream. None of us cared it was private property. Occasionally we came out and shot off fireworks. Other times we’d have bonfires. Since the owner never showed up, we figured he or she was okay with it as long as we cleaned up afterward.

  “You going to get us arrested?” I asked. I could see the headlines: Owner And Star Quarterback Arrested For Trespassing.

  “Nah. I bought the place about five years ago. It’s where I spend a lot of my free time, fixing the place up and making sure the snakes and alligators stay away. It’s my getaway from life home. Like that guy in the movie The Notebook.” He pulled around a grouping of trees, and we came to a stop in front of the small cabin we had visited in college. “What do you think?”

  “You did this?” I asked. The place looked like something out of a magazine. The wood siding appeared new. The windows actually had shades. The landscaping looked professionally done. “So you can do more than play football,” I said jokingly.

  We got out, and he walked me around to the front of the cabin where he’d built a small dock over the river that snaked for miles and emptied into the Atlantic. Two chairs sat at the end of the dock.

  “You really did all this?” I asked again. Bryce could throw a football eighty yards into a trashcan but could never build so much as a bookshelf. IKEA pissed him off more than a defensive line.

  “YouTube,” he said. “I’ll show you the inside later.”

  He led me to the end of the dock, and we sat. Love could be cruel sometimes. You could have the right person right in front of you, and you make a completely different decision than to be with them, thinking life would never give you a second chance. My second chance had come all wrapped up in a bow.

  “This could be our place, Madison,” he said softly, his voice swooning me. “The inside could use a woman’s touch.” He placed his hand on mine. “That’ll be your first job if you like.”

  “Don’t tell me you have one of those talking fish on the wall?”

  “Twins,” he said. “They talk to each other.” He turned his chair to face me. “There’s talk Coach will give us the next weekend off. Want to come back out and do a little hiking, mostly relaxing?”

  “I’d love to, Bryce.” If nothing else, the clandestine meetings would keep trouble away. And no matter how much I wanted to cross back over the line I had jumped, I couldn’t change the fact I'd slept with Bryce. My entire career had been placed in jeopardy.

  “Let’s take a look inside.” He held up his hands as if I were holding a gun. “I promise not to touch you.”

  “What if I want you to? I think we both know what happened was destined to happen again. And again.” I was spiraling out of control and wasn’t sure how to stop it. He had total control over me without even trying. Did that make me weak or make him strong?

  Bryce held my hand, and we entered the cabin.

  “You’re right,” I said. “It could use a woman’s touch.” I crossed the room and took the two talking fish off the wall. “I thought you were kidding.”

  “Nope. Gus gave those to me. Said they belonged in a man-cave.”

  “He know about this place?”

  “He helped me find the owner, but he doesn’t know I fixed it up. And really, since you started, Gus never speaks to me. I’m a fucking cancer to him.”

  If Gus knew, then Clarissa probably knew. And if Clarissa knew… “You don’t think Gus wo
uld sell you out?” I asked.

  Bryce chuckled and screwed up his face. “He’s not like that. He minds his own business.”

  “Except for me,” I said. “I’m sure he’s warned you to stay away.”

  “Yeah, so what?”

  “You’ve met his bunny-boiling secretary?” I asked.

  “Clarissa?”

  “The very one,” I said. “She’d loved for me to lose control of the team so she and Gus could have their jobs back. I wouldn’t doubt she’s out there somewhere in camouflage, watching us now, probably taking pictures to sell to the tabloids. She’s trouble.”

  Bryce waved his hand. “Don’t worry about her. All bark and no bite.”

  I moved closer to him and stared up into his eyes. “Did you fuck her, Bryce?”

  He stepped back and put his hands on his hips. “You gotta be fucking kidding me, Mads. Hell no, I’m not fucking her. Why would you say that?”

  “I’ve heard she gets around.”

  “Not with me, she doesn’t. Yeah, we’re friends, but that’s it.”

  If he were fucking her, he would have admitted to doing so. He was just that way. “Okay,” I finally said. “But I don’t trust that bitch for a minute. You and I both know she’d like to see me gone.”

  “It’s all good,” he said.

  “I still think she’s out there somewhere. Maybe a gator will get her.”

  Bryce looked at me but said nothing. The look on his face said guilt for something.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Bryce

  I entered the training facility and went straight to my locker. I'd had a couple of weeks to decide what to do with the pictures on my phone, the ones of Madison and I fucking in the hotel. Thankfully, I’d had a moment of sane body and mind and hung up before revealing anything to the tabloid reporter. Releasing the photos would have driven Madison away forever. I no longer wanted that.

  Why? Because I was hopeful. And it wasn’t something I wanted to be known for. Love made you do strange things, and revenge made you do even stranger things. I couldn’t let another person make me act out of character. Not even Madison. The community would have roasted me over a pit, and the Hurricanes would have traded me or ended my contract altogether.

  But I was still cautious. Though we’d grown closer over the last month, she was still the boss, me still the employee. Shockingly, we had also claimed our love for one another despite our past and in spite of our future. When we were together, all was right with the world. When apart, my mind wandered, doubting things would ever truly workout. How long could two people keep their relationship hidden? Especially if I love you had been spoken? Harder times were definitely ahead.

  When my mind wondered, it did so to a place that kept me on edge, fucking with me both on and off the field. My worry? Madison had walked away once; why couldn’t she do it again?

  “Hey, shithead.”

  I looked up from deleting the last picture to find Ollie Holtzclaw walking toward me. “Fuck,” I said. “I’m late.”

  “You are,” Ollie said. Ollie came over with me when the trade happened. He’d been my center for most of my short career. He and the other offensive linemen were my BFFs, because they kept me from getting hurt. “Fucktard RJ is in the weight room talking shit about you. He’s buddying up with the new QB.”

  “RJ’s an asshole,” I said. “He’ll be lucky if I throw his way this season.”

  “That’s why he’s kissing Kyle’s ass,” Ollie said. Kyle Harker, my backup, came in thinking he’d take my job. He was young and cocky and didn’t understand the way things worked. And he certainly didn’t mind talking shit to the other players. Said it made him look like a leader.

  I stuck the phone in my pocket and tried to pass Ollie, who stuck his hand out to stop me. “I know about you and Madison,” he said. “Don’t get caught, Bryce. She’ll be a great owner. And you still have another five to eight years in the league. Don’t fuck it up.”

  I didn’t bother to ask how he knew. I just nodded. “We fell in love again. What am I supposed to do?” We really had, and it was eating away at us; neither understood how to deal with it. Keeping things quiet was causing more harm than good. Madison couldn’t concentrate on the tasks at hand, and my last few practices had been shit.

  “Y’all need to get your shit together,” Ollie said. “You know what’s going to happen when others find out.” He slapped me on the upper back and squeezed my shoulder. “I’m on your side, Bryce. Come on.” He didn’t say how he found out or if he knew who else may have known. I was slacking.

  The weight room smelled of sweat and expensive cologne. RJ and Kyle, laughing, stood next to the squat rack. Both men had their shirts off, sweat dripping over lean abs. When RJ noticed me entering the room, he stopped talking and elbowed Kyle.

  Ollie moved in front of me, knowing something bad was about to happen. We stopped at the bench press machine. Ollie loaded the barbell up, and I laid on the bench. As soon as I lifted the weight, Kyle and RJ moved next to us.

  Neither Kyle nor RJ were large men, though their egos were unmatched. Nobody on the team ever challenged Ollie. The man would kick ass and not bother taking names later. Every player in the league feared being on the other side of the ball from him when game time came.

  “Damn, Bryce, I bet Madison could lift that shit,” RJ said. Kyle laughed, and for a moment, I thought maybe the two were lovers playing off each other.

  I ignored the comment and pushed out another few reps before returning the bar to the cradle. When I stood, Kyle put another fifty-pounds on the barbell and then laid on the bench. He knocked out ten reps and gave RJ a high-five.

  “The fuck outta the way,” I said to Kyle and laid on the bench. “Thirty, Ollie.”

  Ollie crinkled his eyebrows at me, and I nodded. He put thirty more pounds on the barbell. “Bryce,” he said.

  “I got it,” I said with very little confidence.

  “You got that sweet piece of ass too?” RJ said. “Cause if you ain’t hitting it, I’m going to.”

  I laid on the bench for a minute or two, trying to decide my next move. It was always going to be like that. There would always be assholes like RJ, trying to stir the pot. And if the man ever found out that yes, I was hitting it, he would see to it personally that Madison lost her job. So therein stood the problem. I sure as hell couldn’t go back to Madison and tell her about my day at work. She’d want to fix the problem. Fixing the problem would mean the two of us splitting up again. I wasn't sure either of us could handle another breakup.

  I stood and found myself directly in front of RJ and Kyle. I had at least three inches on each man. If I didn’t get my shit together and start performing the way I had last year, I'd lose the locker room and eventually the respect of every man on the team. Same thing with taking shit from other players.

  “Madison and I were a thing,” I said. I moved closer to the two men.

  “Make your move, Bryce,” RJ said like a playground punk. Kyle took a step back, realizing he’d made friends with the wrong guy.

  I looked down at RJ. If I punched the man, we would both end up in Madison’s office like two high schoolers going to the principal’s office. Except I was sleeping with the principal. If I did nothing, other players would wonder who the team belonged to, me or RJ.

  Ollie stepped between us. “You two need to find some common ground,” he said. He turned to RJ. “Your ass is new to this team. We already did what you couldn’t with your last team.” He pointed at the back wall where a large mural stared back. The entire team stood around the championship trophy. “When you’re in that picture, then you can think you’re the man. Until then, shut your mouth.”

  RJ looked from Ollie to me and then back to Ollie. Kyle had quietly returned to the squat rack. “This ain’t over,” RJ said to me. He left the room by himself.

  I didn’t know if the incident would get back to Madison or not, but if it did, we’d have to have an unpleasant conversation. The dynam
ics of our relationship and employment were always going to be a problem. I couldn’t lead a football team while most of the team thought I was pussy-whipped.

  “Bryce, my office,” Gus called from the doorway. The others went back to training.

  “Don’t fuck it up, Bryce,” Ollie whispered.

  I nodded and grabbed a towel from the shelf, following Gus into his office. “What’s up, Gus?”

  “What’s going on, Bryce? Your practices haven’t been worth a damn, and now you’re fighting in the weight room. How the hell are we supposed to repeat if you continue to play like shit? Get your head in the game.” He sat in his chair and hit his pillbox.

  I nodded at the box. “You okay, Gus?”

  “No,” he said. “But that’s none of your concern. Keep your mind on the field.”

  The man would never tell me if something was wrong. Gus believed in keeping the personal separate from the game. He didn’t surprise me with what he said next. “I told you to stay away from Madison.”

  I shrugged, keeping my cards close. “I know you did. But you’re not her father no matter how hard you try to be.”

  “I know you two had dinner,” Gus said. “I don’t know what you did afterward, but I’m hoping she didn’t break any rules.”

  “You know our history, Gus. What do you expect to happen?”

  “I expect that you won’t fuck up the rest of her life. The trustees are looking for any reason to undo what they did by putting her in charge.” He slid his desk calendar toward me. “We’re a month away from opening day. We don’t need a scandal rocking our team.”

  My phone buzzed, and Madison’s image appeared on the screen. I quickly declined the call like a child not wanting to answer to a parent. “What’s the answer then?” I asked. “In the end, you know where all this is going.” My way of letting him know there was nothing he could do to change the inevitable. I stood and started to leave.