Inheritance Goals: A Sports Romance

by McKenna James

  Bryce's career was falling apart, and I was losing the respect of those in the Hurricane organization. Exactly what I told Bryce would happen if we started the relationship. It had to stop. And I had to regain the trust and respect of those around me. I’d heard other owners say once your staff lost respect you might as well replace the entire organization. I wasn’t ready to do that.

  I still had the sex video between Clarissa and RJ. Tony Martin had cooled his jets since he found out Jessica was working as one of my assistants. But I had nothing on Gus. I was still hurt by his backstabbing, especially since my father had treated him so well. I had planned to do the same, giving him most everything he wanted.

  “Mads?”

  Startled, I looked up at Bryce entering the office. “Damnit, you scared the shit outta me, Bryce. Don’t you know how to knock?”

  “Calm down,” he said and sat in the chair across from me. “What’s wrong?”

  I told him about the confrontation with Clarissa. Then I suddenly felt like we were sitting in that restaurant ten years ago. “We can’t do this, Bryce. Your game is falling apart. You've lost the respect of the players, and you haven’t shaved in days.”

  “Shit, Mads, what’s this really about? You?”

  “Don’t you even start,” I said. “I was trying to stay away from you and not even be in this situation.”

  “You didn’t answer my question,” he said and sat stoically. I felt like screaming.

  “Yes,” I said calmly. “It is about me. And William. And the Hurricanes. It’s about not losing this team to a bunch of assholes who think a woman’s place is in the home. I’ve worked my ass off for ten years to get to this place, and in just a few months, I've almost destroyed that. Every time I think I have this figured out, I don’t. And then I have to deal with Clarissa or RJ or Gus or some other greedy person who can’t seem to take care of themselves. So yeah, it is about me.” I sat back and struggled to control the anger boiling in the pit of my stomach. Damnit.

  “I can take care of Clarissa,” Bryce said.

  “Damnit, Bryce, you’ve said that before, and it’s not working,” I said. “Do you understand we can’t keep doing this.”

  “So what are you doing? Walking away from me again?”

  I placed my face in my hands and rubbed my temples where the headache was beginning. I wanted to tell him he was acting like a dumb football player, but I knew he was an academic all-American in college. He was charming, good-looking, hot, and to top it all off, smart. It was a no-win situation.

  “I’m just saying maybe we should cool it for a little while. We can’t be seen laughing and having a good time together. Last week one of the media reporters were talking about how cozy you and I were on the sidelines during pregame. It’s sending the wrong message.” I got up and went to the window where I could see the training facility and the players working out. Bryce came up behind me and rested his hands on my shoulders.

  “Okay,” he said. “We stop with the public affection. Keep seeing each other on the side.”

  I moved away from him, knowing as long as he was touching me, I couldn’t think straight. I had to stay away from the college girl mentality when it came to Bryce. I had to wear the hat of a professional businesswoman who had her career at stake. Even if Bryce had a bad season, he could still go to another team and play. He still had another five to ten years left in his career. Me? If I messed up ownership of the Hurricanes, I would never be allowed to run another organization, no matter how big or small. This was a one-shot deal.

  “No,” I said. “I’m saying we just pause everything. At least until we can come up with another alternative.” I finally looked up at him. “It’ll give you an opportunity to get your head in the game.”

  Bryce shook his head. “You know, you’re right. I need to focus on what’s happening on the field and not off the field. You made your point, Mads.” He left the office and closed the door.

  The door opened again, and May entered, the grim look on her face suggesting she knew what just happened. “You okay?” she asked.

  “Yeah,” I said. “Can you check Gus’ calendar and see if you can get him in here for a one-on-one this afternoon? Tell him we need to speak about management.”

  May nodded. “I’m always here to listen,” she said.

  “I appreciate that, May. I really do.”

  May left the office and closed the door. I needed a drink or a gallon of ice cream. Since it was still morning, I dialed Julie’s number and arranged to meet her for lunch. And ice cream.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Bryce

  I stepped off the plane, happy to be out of Florida and even happier to be in California. Coach said I would get to start tomorrow. He thought an away game would be a good time for me to get my mojo back. Hearing the boos from opposing fans was a lot different than hearing the boos from your own. The flight had sucked as I overheard players talk about replacing me with Kyle. If they wanted to miss the playoffs, then go right ahead.

  Madison decided to skip the away game in order to not be a distraction. But until she could totally wipe herself from my mind, she would always be a distraction. It was up to me to manage it in my own head.

  When we arrived at the hotel, Ollie asked if I wanted to head over to the pier for dinner with the offensive linemen. He told me it would be better than sulking in the room alone. I took him up on the offer. We spent two hours devouring a seafood buffet, the manager cringing when we entered his restaurant. We had good laughs and shared a lot of stories. None of them mentioned my possible relationship with Madison, though I knew they suspected something was up.

  We returned to the hotel around nine, and Ollie and I went to the bar.

  “You need to do that more often,” he said. “It’s been a while since I was single, but I remember the struggles.” The team didn’t think I was spending enough time bonding.

  “She’ll lose her job if, or when, people find out,” I said. “Then I'll really feel like shit.” We both ordered whiskey shots.

  “She’s an adult. Smart one at that. You both have careers to worry about. Just don’t tell her you want her to stay at home and have your babies.” He threw down a shot and then asked for a glass of water. He also noticed me smiling and looking away. “You seriously didn’t say that to her?”

  “I might have suggested it,” I said and took my shot.

  “Academic all-American?”

  I shrugged and changed the subject. “The line going to keep the defense off my ass tomorrow?”

  Ollie nodded. “You going to throw to your own team?” He laughed and patted me on the shoulder. “I’m going upstairs and give Sharon and the kids a call before I head off to bed. You’re a good guy, man. Have a great game tomorrow, and things will head in a different direction for you.”

  I ordered another whiskey shot and knocked it back as soon as the bartender sat it on the counter, still thinking about Ollie’s comment. Basically, we couldn’t be accountable for another person’s happiness. I’d have to beat California to get things back on track.

  ***

  Madison sent me a text two hours before game time, wishing me good luck. I responded with three hearts and left it at that, choosing to focus on the game.

  Ollie gave me another pep talk, and the first play from scrimmage I tossed a fifty-yard touchdown pass to RJ much to Kyle’s chagrin.

  “’Bout fucking time,” RJ said when we returned to the sidelines.

  “The ball hit you in the hands, and you almost dropped it,” I said and walked away.

  Ollie was right. Move on, and my game would approve. He reminded me at least a dozen times while we were huddling on the field to keep my mind on business. And it worked. I threw three more touchdown passes, and we won 42-14. We were back in the playoff picture.

  We won the following game, but I had a subpar performance. The game was back in Orlando, and I found myself surrounded by the same old issue. Madison and I saw each other only at the trai
ning facility or at the stadium, but others were still around and watching. And, to be honest, I wanted to see her. Wanted to touch her. Wanted to wake up in the mornings next to her.

  The following week the team headed to Texas, and Madison accompanied the team on the flight. She sat four rows up and on the other side of the aisle. I could hear her voice and practically every word she said to her assistant, Jessica. At one-point, Jessica asked Madison if she had a boyfriend. Madison said no.

  Hearing Madison’s answer sent my mind spiraling. No? She had not just walked away; she’d moved on.

  I took the field the next day and fumbled on our first possession and threw an interception on our second possession. Coach pulled me right away and put Kyle in the game. Kyle once again brought us back from defeat, leading us to a fourteen-point victory.

  I sat in the back of the plane on the flight home, headphones in my ears, my music too loud to hear the drum of the engines. I’d sealed my fate with the team. I’d fucked up my career because I couldn’t get Madison out of my head. Nobody to blame but myself.

  When we finally landed and exited the plane, I found Madison had gone on without saying a word. Somehow, she knew my performance was because of our strained relationship. It was time to sever the cord between us.

  “You understand?” Ollie asked. He walked to the parking lot with me.

  “Sure,” I said. “I get it. When my mind’s on her, my performance sucks.” I opened my trunk and dropped my suitcase inside. “I’m not throwing away my career, Ollie. I’ll talk to the team and make sure they know I have their backs.”

  “Really think you can cut ties with her?” he asked.

  “I don’t like looking inept,” I said. “Kyle thinks the team belongs to him, and the other players are ready for him to take over. Fuck that. I’ve worked too hard in my career to standby and lose a team. Playing football is all I’ve ever dreamed of. It’s part of me—what makes me the man I am.” I opened the car door but watched Ollie over the hood. “I’ll talk to her tonight.”

  On the way home, I received a text from Madison but didn’t bother replying. When I pulled into my driveway, she was sitting on my porch steps. Couldn’t let anything go. There were still some things that had not changed since college. Me? I’d taken up hiking to relax my mind. Get with nature. I had also learned to spend quality time with my parents. Good parents. Not the kind who were happy when you finally moved out of the house.

  “You not going to answer me?” she asked. “We have to talk about it sometime.”

  “It’s not like I'm your boyfriend or anything,” I said and moved by her. I unlocked the door, entered the house, and went upstairs. I had no doubt she would follow.

  “Don’t be an asshole, Bryce. I’m trying to talk to you.” She entered my bedroom and sat on the bed. She looked hot as hell, her shirt cut low, her hair pulled back, her delicious neck exposed. If I stood and watched her, I would fail miserably at staying away.

  In college, the guys called me pussy-whipped. But that really wasn’t the case. I was in love with the woman I was meant to spend the rest of my life with. We enjoyed each other's company. Wanted, no needed, to be near each other.

  “I’m trying to manage our relationship, or the lack thereof,” I said. I started the shower and undressed. Looking through the bathroom mirror, I could see Madison watching me from the bed. Neither of us smiled, but I figured both of us knew the end was near if it hadn’t come already.

  I stepped into the shower and turned to see Madison entering the bathroom. She wasn’t about to let the situation cool. She wanted answers when she wanted answers. I turned away and then began washing my hair, tightening my ass cheeks to tease her, knowing she loved it.

  “Can I come in?” she asked.

  Fuck. Yeah, I wanted her in there with me. I wanted her up against the wall, to fuck her until I really knew she regretted walking away from me. I sighed and rinsed my hair. She opened the shower door and began removing her clothes.

  “I need my strength for the game,” I said. “You know once we start, we’ll go until we’re almost dead. I need my energy. Been playing too well to mess it up now.”

  She stood in the doorway naked, her beautiful smile and perfect body. She had a birthmark on her neck. Small but still there. She always claimed it was a gift from God to remind her of how special she was. That was why it was out there for everyone to see. I wouldn’t be so cliché to say a woman’s body was a temple, but Madison’s was definitely created to be worshipped. She’d told me the same thing about my body. Sprinkles of water splashed against her breasts, gathered and then created a stream down her stomach. I watched the water race between her legs, wanting once again to have her, devour her, make her never forget what she would be walking away from for a second time.

  “You know what happens if we do this?” I asked. “We take two steps back in trying to fix the problem.”

  “I want it to be like it used to be, Bryce. I really do.”

  “But you can’t.” I grabbed the bar of soap and began washing. “And we both know why I’ve played so shittily this year. Because you showed up back in my life.” I turned away and rinsed off. “So where does this leave us? The same fucking spot we were in years ago.”

  Madison stepped closer. “Bryce.”

  I shook my head. “I can’t, Mads. See ya on Sunday.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Madison

  “Hey, Gus,” I said when he entered the owner’s suite. He wore a Hurricanes polo and khakis, the same outfit he’d worn on gameday since my father bought the team.

  Gus removed his sunglasses. “Madison,” he said coldly. “Just getting some food from the buffet. Going to sit with the Jacobsons in their suite.”

  I stared at Gus, waiting. But he wouldn’t say anything here, especially not in front of other people. He’d wait until we were in front of the board members. Then they could all unleash hell on me at the same time. I’d fucked up by rekindling things with Bryce, and now I’d not only lost Bryce again but also Gus.

  “William Charles!” Gus said happily when William and his mother entered the suite.

  William wore khakis, a white shirt, and a sleeveless Hurricane’s vest. He smiled at me but was quickly swooped up by Gus. Gus walked him to the front of the suite, where we could see the field. William’s mother—Joan, although it tasted bitter against my tongue—stopped at the bar in the room and had the bartender fix her a drink.

  “One day, this is all going to belong to you,” Gus told William.

  “All the people?” William asked innocently.

  Gus gave him a deep belly laugh. “Sort of, champ. Who knows, you might be playing on your own field.” Gus pointed at the players warming up. “Which player you want to be?”

  William pointed as well. “Him. Bryce.”

  I moved next to William and Gus and looked down at Bryce throwing warm-up passes. He always made a football uniform look good. Damn good.

  “You remember Bryce?” I asked William.

  William nodded. “He’s your boyfriend.”

  Gus looked at me and then back at William’s mother. He then motioned to one of the waitresses. “Chicken nuggets and French fries,” he said. He sat next to William. “What else you want, champ?”

  William looked at me. “Sissy.” He held his hands out for me to pick him up. I did and hugged him, kissing him on the cheek. He wiped away the kiss and laughed.

  “He’ll make a great owner,” Gus said. “Teachers say he’s smarter than most kids twice his age.” Gus grabbed the Hurricane pompoms sitting on one of the chairs and waved them in front of William’s face. The waitress returned with a plate of chicken nuggets and French fries.

  “Gus,” I said, but he kept playing with William. “Gus?”

  I sat William at the table and let him snack on his chicken. I turned to Gus.

  “The board wants to meet with us Monday afternoon,” he said.

  The Star-Spangled Banner began playing, and we tu
rned toward the field. William’s mother continued drinking and flirting with the bartender.

  When the anthem finished, Bryce and the offense ran onto the field, the defense following.

  We’d not spoken or texted since the shower. He’d claimed that I was interfering with his play on the field, getting inside his head and fucking up his mentality. I didn’t know what to believe.

  On the very first play, Bryce dropped back to pass, looking downfield to the left, then he threw down the field to the right and hit RJ for an opening play touchdown. RJ danced in the endzone like a four-year-old and then spiked the ball. Bryce ran off the field to a chorus of cheers. He was back on top, and I was heading toward the bottom.

  William jumped up and down, cheering on Bryce. I took a seat and watched.

  The Apollos scored on their first possession, using up five minutes of clock and scoring on a sweep to the left. Bryce ran back onto the field after kickoff, riding the wave of a frenzied crowd who were still calling out his name. The boos from weeks ago had turned to yells of encouragement.

  The Hurricanes, led by Bryce, advanced down the field on a variety of running and passing plays. William cheered as if he’d been watching Bryce for years.

  Gus and the other staff, those who knew William was my father’s son, waited hand and foot on William, treating him as if he were already the owner of the team. It caused no hard feelings toward William. Joan was already using him as a pawn to get things she didn’t deserve. She was only nice to me when she needed a sitter, knowing I would never say no.

  As the game progressed and headed toward half-time, the room felt different. William was being treated as if he were Prince William, Bryce had had a kickass first half, and Gus and Joan were laughing it up. The staff watched me as if I were a lost stranger.