by Liz Lincoln
Most of the other players cleared the field, but Lem and two other guys hovered nearby as the medical staff—that’s who Carrie assumed the men in windbreakers were—knelt next to Seth. One offered a hand to help him sit up, and even from the far side of the field, Carrie could see him wince with the movement.
“That was a great sack he had,” Maddie murmured, pointing up at the Jumbotron. From the corner of her eye, Carrie could see the replay, but she didn’t take her eyes off the man sitting on the field, talking, each word appearing as if it were knives ripping from him.
It was possible Carrie was imagining it to be more dramatic than it really was.
Eons passed before the doctor/trainer/whoever guys stood. The two bigger ones squatted and got their shoulders under Seth’s so he could drape his arms over them. As one unit, they got to their feet.
Carrie didn’t breathe as they helped Seth to the side. He appeared to be putting a little weight on his left leg, but each step caused him to squeeze his eyes shut. Each step also had Maddie digging her nails into Carrie’s side, but Carrie didn’t say anything. Of course the girl was worried.
Finally the trainer guys eased Seth onto what looked like an extra-wide massage table, set up behind the metal benches the players sat on. It was probably Carrie’s imagination, but as the three guys started doing their thing, it seemed like Seth was looking up into the stands, his gaze scanning the crowd.
Almost like he was looking for her.
Or his daughter. Carrie mentally rolled her eyes at herself. Of course he was looking for Maddie, not her. Just because she could feel her heart pounding in not only her chest but her temples and her stomach didn’t mean Seth was thinking about her too.
*
—
The cold water felt good on her face, even though it was a chilly afternoon. Near the beginning of the fourth quarter, Seth had disappeared into the locker room with one of the medical guys. Which couldn’t be a good sign. If he hadn’t been hurt that badly, he’d have gotten some ibuprofen and gone back in the game.
To give herself something to do, Carrie wet her hands and ran them through her hair to tame a few strands that had gotten frizzy. But she’d really just come to the bathroom so she could be alone and freak out for a few minutes. Because, of course, she couldn’t let Maddie know exactly how panicked she felt.
Never mind what Carrie’s level of panic said about her involvement with Seth. She wouldn’t be this frantic about a man she was casually sleeping with. She had feelings for Seth, whether she liked it or not.
Her mind flashed back to a phone conversation she’d had with Amy earlier in the week. Even though Carrie and Seth had agreed to keep things discreet, she couldn’t keep it from her best friend.
“I’m begging you, don’t fall in love with him,” Amy had said.
“I’m not in love with him.”
She’d told her friend the truth. But she definitely felt more than attraction.
So when she turned away from the mirrors and pulled out her phone as she leaned back against the sink, she could tell herself she was texting Seth for Maddie. But she had to admit, at least to herself, that Maddie was only part of the reason.
Carrie: I know you probably won’t get this for a while. But please let me know you’re OK.
Even though she knew he wasn’t allowed to use his phone during games, she waited for a full minute, watching the phone for the gray bubble that meant he was responding. It never appeared, of course. He was probably getting his hip worked on. A painkiller injection, a massage, maybe an X-ray? What did they even do for that injury?
What if it was an entirely new injury? She’d seen the scars from the ligament repair surgeries he’d had on that hip, and knew he put heat on it almost every day. But what if this was something else entirely?
She huffed out a frustrated breath. She wanted to make some kind of growl or yell too, but there were other women in the bathroom and they didn’t need to hear that.
This was why she’d always dated men with boring jobs, like fellow teachers, or IT geeks, or graphic designers. Well, that and she’d never actually met a professional athlete before Seth.
“He’s so hot. I could tangle my hands in all that hair and yank on it. And I love when bearded guys go down on me.”
Two women stepped up to the sinks next to Carrie, examining their makeup. The brown-skinned woman who’d spoken pulled a tube of lipstick out of her purse.
“Twitter said he’s out the rest of the game with a hip injury,” the tall, willowy blonde said.
Were they talking about Seth? That was good to know, at least.
“I’d be happy to help nurse him back to health.” The blonde gave a hearty laugh. “I bet he’s fantastic in bed.”
Carrie’s cheeks flamed. They weren’t just talking about Seth. They were talking about having sex with Seth.
For some reason, her heart pounded almost as hard as when he’d been lying on the field surrounded by medical staff. She shouldn’t be embarrassed. They were the ones talking about having sex with a man they didn’t know.
The man Carrie was having sex with.
“Not tonight, he’s not.” The dark-haired woman pouted at her reflection. “I love this color.”
Carrie snuck a glance at her. The maroon lipstick did look fantastic on the woman, who was gorgeous, with long hair that fell in perfect waves. She had a round butt shown off perfectly in tight jeans and a V-necked Dragons tee that showed off just the right amount of cleavage. Carrie could never achieve that look.
The blonde nodded her agreement about the lipstick, then held out her hand. Her friend handed over the tube.
“I bet he’d still be up for some good times, even hurt. And he’d make sure you got yours. More than once.”
The blonde wasn’t wrong. Even the one time Seth had needed to stop in the middle of sex because of his hip, when they returned to pleasure, he’d gotten her off twice.
Maybe she should blow their minds and tell them that.
Or she should keep her mouth shut and get back to Maddie. The poor girl had been stiff with worried tension, and Carrie had felt terrible leaving her. But besides needing a moment to freak out herself, they’d shared a giant soda in the first half and Carrie had been desperate to use the restroom.
“Yeah, you know this how?” The first woman took her lipstick back and slipped it back in her purse. “He could be one of those cocky assholes who’s only about his own pleasure.”
The blonde shrugged. “He seems like a decent guy. And decent guys make sure you enjoy it as much as they do.”
“Maybe you should hang around the player entrance after the game. Ask him if you can take him home and pamper him.” Sarcasm dripped from the dark-haired woman’s voice.
Carrie shoved her phone in her pocket and pushed off the sink. The jealousy in her chest was totally irrational. She and Seth had agreed to be exclusive as long as they were together.
But if she didn’t get out of there, Carrie would do something dumb, like tell that blonde to back the fuck off her man.
*
—
Seth sat at his locker and stared at the activity around him. It had a surreal I’m-on-a-shit-ton-of-painkillers quality, like he was watching it through a misshapen tunnel. He hated what pain meds did to his head.
On the other hand, he no longer wanted to claw his skin off, so that was a plus.
Somewhere in the distance, it occurred to him that he should check on Maddie. He stood, and immediately got skewered in the ass with burning hot spears.
With a groan, he sank back to his seat, his hip throbbing again, his pulse pounding so hard he could feel it in his temples; he could swear even his teeth pulsed.
“Jesus, man. What the hell are you doing?” Lem shot Seth a look like he was the dumbest guy on the planet. Which he was, trying to stand on this hip.
Fucking college injury.
On the plus side, the surge of pain had cleared some of the mental
fog. He could almost think again.
“Hand me my phone. I should text Maddie. Let her know I’m OK.” Seth pointed up at the shelf in his locker.
Lem ambled over to get the phone. “They at the game, or you need a ride home?”
Seth’s knee-jerk reaction was to insist he could drive home just fine. But he immediately swallowed that response. Not only was he too fucked in the head to be behind the wheel, but the injury was to his right hip. The simple act of pushing his foot on the accelerator would be excruciating.
“Carrie brought Maddie to the game. They can take me home.” He woke up his screen to find a message from Carrie. None from his daughter, but she’d likely been next to Carrie when she sent her message. And Carrie would update Maddie.
Still, it stung.
Carrie: I know you probably won’t get this for a while. But please let me know you’re OK.
Seth: I’m fine. Aggravated my hip again. Locked up like it did the other day.
He wanted to say more, but it was entirely possible Maddie was close enough to see Carrie’s phone. He couldn’t risk it. But this was vague enough that Maddie would assume something had happened at home and Carrie had been around to witness it. Which was technically true.
A response came through almost immediately.
Carrie: Can you play?
Seth: I won’t practice until Thu. Then take it day to day.
Carrie: That sounds like the company BS line.
Seth: I’m heavily medicated. Icing my ass. I’m not practicing. Doubt I’ll play next week.
Lem dropped onto the bench next to Seth. “What’s the verdict?”
Seth leaned his elbows on his knees and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Muscle spasms. I’ll get an MRI tomorrow. Go from there. Same old, same old.”
“We’re old.”
“Yep.”
The two men stared at the Dragons logo in the center of the room in silence.
“You think about what you’re gonna do when this is over?” Lem asked.
Not if he could help it. He felt like he couldn’t breathe when he did. When his contract in Houston ended, his agent and his manager had tried to get him to discuss life after football. But he wasn’t ready to give it up yet.
His body, on the other hand, seemed to be on Mike and Donny’s side.
“I try not to. But I guess we both need to do that soon, huh?”
Lem sighed, his massive shoulders sagging as he exhaled. “Sarah’s been on me about it lately. And she understands why I’m resistant, but she doesn’t get it. Ya know?”
Yeah, Seth knew.
His phone pinged with another message.
Carrie: Sorry. Wish I could help.
Seth: You can wait around and give me a ride home. I’m too drugged to drive.
Carrie: Sure thing. FWIW, Maddie’s worried about you. She’d die before she’d admit it, but she’s worried.
That admission warmed Seth more than he liked. He didn’t want his daughter worried about him. And he didn’t want to need an injury to get her to give a shit about him.
But hell, he was only human. He’d take what he could get.
Seth fired off another text telling Carrie where to meet him, then groped around for the fucking crutches he was going to need for at least a few days.
“You set?” Lem stood and moved back to his own locker, a few down from Seth’s.
“Yeah. Maddie and Carrie are meeting me.” Seth steadied the crutches and used them to leverage himself to his feet. Or his foot, anyway.
“I got this.” Lem reached into Seth’s locker and pulled out his bag. He slung it over his shoulder with his own. Together, they headed for the exit.
Fuck, even with the crutches, the minimal amount of weight Seth was putting on his leg hurt like a motherfucker. Fucking hell. Why couldn’t he get a morphine IV to knock him out until the damn thing was healed?
“You should come over this week,” Lem said as they moved down the corridor at Seth’s pathetically slow pace. “The girls have been asking about Maddie.”
“Yeah, maybe Friday.” For years, Friday had been his night with Maddie, but she’d clearly given up on that. The past two weeks, Friday had been all about sex with Carrie. But after multiple injuries to the same place, Seth knew how his recovery would go. He would not be doing any hip thrusting by Friday. Any sex would be him lying there while she did all the work. And as much as he loved any and all sex with Carrie, it wasn’t worth the risk that he might lose control and injure himself worse. Then he’d be out of commission from football and sex even longer.
So alternative entertainment for Friday would be not only pleasant but necessary to his recovery.
They reached the parking lot and Seth could see Carrie’s car parked next to his. The sight of her, even from a distance, eased something inside his chest. A little of the panic about his injury slipped away.
Maddie looked over and caught his eye, then waved. As Seth and Lem approached, Seth could see the worried expression on her face. “You OK, Dad?” She cast a glance at his crutches, then looked back to his face.
Seth balanced on one crutch, wrapped his free arm around her neck, and pulled her to him. Let her try to object. But she didn’t, and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
“Yeah. I’m good, baby girl.”
And he meant it.
Chapter 15
“Enjoy your turkey. And say hi to your parents for me.” Lem bumped fists with Seth as they walked out of the visiting team’s exit at NGR Stadium in Houston.
Because they’d been roommates in college and because Seth’s parents were local, Lem had known them back in the day. “Will do. Tell your family happy Thanksgiving.”
Lem nodded, then headed for the charter bus that would take the Dragons to the airport so they could fly back to Milwaukee.
Seth exchanged goodbyes with a few other teammates, wishing them a happy Thanksgiving, then headed in the opposite direction, to where his dad and two brothers waited by Logan’s F250. Seth’s agent, Mike, had arranged for them to get access to the reserved lot so Seth didn’t have to find them in general parking. He still had plenty of fans in Houston; he’d have been mobbed. Much though he usually enjoyed chatting with fans, today he just wanted to get to his parents’ house, catch up with family, gorge himself on his mom’s stuffing and his aunt Wendy’s pies, and maybe even coax a few smiles out of Maddie. Hopefully being back at her grandparents’ would help his daughter chill out a little.
And after dinner, once everyone else was gone, Maddie was asleep in her room, and he was alone in the guest room, he could call Carrie and fall asleep with her voice in his head.
All that, on top of a win where his fourth-quarter sack of his former teammate had moved Houston out of range for what would have been a game-tying field goal, made for a damn good Thanksgiving. It felt good to be back on the field after missing two games. As usual, he had a lot to be thankful for this year.
As he approached the truck, he knew something was wrong. Panic rippled through him. Where’s Mom? Maddie? Who’s hurt?
His dad held up a hand, palm toward Seth. “No need to panic. We’ve run into a little snag.”
Seth’s thoughts must have been showing on his face. “Is it Mom? Maddie?” His memory flashed to the year they’d spent Christmas Eve in the ER when he was eleven. Mom had fallen off the chair she was climbing on to get the roasting pan off a high shelf. She’d landed on her elbow and chipped the bone, plus broken her upper arm bone. She’d needed surgery two days later.
His dad and youngest brother, Beau, climbed into the backseat of the extended-cab truck, leaving shotgun for Seth. He tossed his bag and small suitcase into the covered bed of the truck, then swung up into the front.
“Someone gonna tell me what’s up?” he snapped as he pulled on his seatbelt.
“Maddie ain’t coming,” Beau said. “Weather.”
Seth glowered at his brother. “You wanna expand on that?” Beau looked how Se
th imagined he would if he didn’t work out for a living and kept his hair short. The two had the same blond hair, blue eyes, and facial features as their mom’s family. Slim with brown hair and brown eyes, Logan favored their dad.
“Ice storm in Chicago and Milwaukee,” Logan explained. “Airport’s shut down.”
Fuck. Hell fucking shit. “She can’t be stuck at home alone. It’s Thanksgiving.”
It also meant the Dragons weren’t getting home tonight, but that was a much lesser concern for him. Team management would take care of that.
“She’s not alone.” Dad reached forward and patted Seth’s shoulder. “Carrie took her to dinner at her parents’. Your mom said they were glad to have her.”
Sighing, Seth scrubbed his hand over his face, exhaustion rolling over him. It wasn’t the exertion of the game catching up with him. It was a mental exhaustion, the fatigue of feeling like he constantly came up short where Maddie was concerned.
“She’s in good hands,” Dad added.
“I know. I trust Carrie as much as you and Mom.” In ways he couldn’t begin to explain, and many he wasn’t ready to think about himself. “But it’s Thanksgiving. She should be here. With family.” His voice sounded both weary and wary.
“Hey, we miss her too. You’re the jackass who moved away,” Beau said.
The words rankled, even though Seth knew the idiot was joking. Someday Beau would grow up and develop a better sense of when to keep his mouth shut. Today was not that day.
“Really, dickhead?” Logan snapped. “You’re gonna give him shit for that now? Have some fucking decency.”
“Boys, let’s tone it down,” Dad said sternly. “Or I’ll have to whup every one of your pansy asses.”
Seth forced a smile he didn’t feel. He appreciated their attempt to lighten his mood. “I’d like to see you try, old man.”
By the time they reached the house, he almost felt normal, though he was acutely aware of the guilt lurking at the base of his skull. But there wasn’t time to indulge it, as he was greeted by hugs from his aunts Wendy and JoJo, a manly greeting from Uncle Tony, and a beer salute from his cousin Clint.
Finally he was able to make his way to the kitchen. “Hey, Mom.”