by Lyssa Layne
Kicking my legs, making sure I’m good and loose, I reset my watch and take off. Despite being three-hundred-pounds, I’m light on my feet. A smile creeps over my lips as I know I’m going to beat my previous time and will finally cut myself a break for the day. I round the last turn and almost skid to a stop.
I slow to a jog, totally killing the record pace I was setting. When I reach the finish line, I breeze past Camila, pretending I don’t see her although it’s hard to miss her when she’s wearing a blouse that only has two buttons ending below her chestline. A lucky necklace hangs between her cleavage, drawing even more attention to her perfect breasts.
Surprisingly, I don’t hear her call after me and when I glance over my shoulder, she’s still standing in the same spot, a frown on her face. I sigh, stopping at the water fountain for a drink before walking to her. I inhale deeply, drawing my shoulders up purposely so I can loom over her even more. When I look down into her face, she doesn’t appear amused.
“Evan, I need to talk to you,” she says, her voice somber.
I roll my eyes. “What? You managed to piss off both teams and I don’t have any offers now?”
Camila averts her eyes, staring at the floor. I shake my head and scoff. Un-fucking-believable, she’s really out to screw me over. She’s got to be fucking my brother. I bet Blake put her up to all this. Get Evan to fall for you Cam, then crush him and send him to the freezefest of football. Other than turn down his offer to leave Mom, I’ve never done anything to him to be treated this way. I start to ball up my fists when Camila’s hand is on mine. A shiny ring on her index finger flashes in the sunlight and I look up at her.
Her hand tightens on mine and she speaks softly. “Evan…it’s your mom.”
The blood in my veins turns ice cold and I freeze, waiting for Camila to go on, but she doesn’t. A tear slips out of her eye and rolls down her cheek instead. Shaking my head, I begin to mutter, “No, no, no…”
My own weight is too much to handle and I drop to my knees. It’s slow motion as I feel myself in mid-air and the second my legs hit the ground, Camila’s arms are pulling me against her. My head rests on those two buttons of her blouse as she cradles me, rubbing my bald scalp. I can hear her telling me she talked to the police but I block out her words, focusing on the words of the music overhead. Closing my eyes, hoping this is just a dream and I’ll wake up any moment. I wrap my arms around her legs and feel her body against mine, confirming this isn’t a dream, but a nightmare.
CHAPTER 15
Evan
Blake and Camila stand at the front of the funeral home, the epitome of the perfect couple. They greet the people who have stood in line for hours, not to say goodbye to our mother, but to see the NFL brothers. Blake had to pull me off of Buddy Dunn, the high school quarterback whose beer belly is bigger than his wife’s pregnant one, after he asked me to sign a Seawolves hat for his kiddo in front of my mother’s casket.
Camila walked outside with me, but didn’t interrupt my tirade of my hatred for this town. My hometown, the place where our father left my mother, my brother left her, and then I went and did the same thing. Left her all by herself in a town of thousands who let her drink herself to her death and now, here they are acting like they give two shits about her when all they want is a glimpse at a couple professional athletes. Once I ran out of words, Camila walked me to the far corner of the room where no one could see me, gave me a kiss on the cheek, and took my spot next to Blake, thanking the posers for coming to say their goodbyes.
“Taking it pretty hard, huh?”
The pew creaks under the weight of someone sitting beside me. My mouth opens, ready to go off when I see my old high school coach sitting beside me. His combover is the exact same, not hiding anything and I’m shocked he’s not wearing the polyester Rawlings coaching shorts he wore every day on the football field when I played for him.
Nodding, I lean over and we give that awkward male hug/pat on the back. “Something like that, Coach.”
“It’s always tough to lose a parent, especially one as young and beautiful as your mother.”
Coach Greyson was the only father-figure that Blake and I ever had. He stayed after practice working extra with us, brought leftovers for lunch since our mom never cooked, and I’m pretty sure the Christmas presents under our tree weren’t from our mother, although she always took the credit. I stare blankly ahead at Camila and Blake where she pats his back and he nods at the person in front of him. Wow, they’re a great pair of actors.
“She was proud of you boys, told me just last week that Blake was dating a smart, successful woman.”
I guffaw. “Yeah, she’s a real jewel. Where did you see her?”
“The Mrs. and I dropped dinner off on Sunday.”
My jaw drops and I turn to him. Coach pats my leg. “Just because her boys are gone, doesn’t mean Ann wasn’t still family to us. Now, tell me what’s going on with you.”
I can’t believe Coach was still taking care of her, just like he did for our whole family. I shake my head, laughing at the disbelief. Assuming Coach wants the inside scoop on who I’ll be playing for next season, I tell him I haven’t got a clue.
“Not your career, Evan. You, what’s going on with you?”
I look up and see Camila staring at me. She raises her eyebrows and I realize that she’s wondering if I’m okay sitting next to this man beside me. I nod, letting her know it’s fine, but she doesn’t look away. Her brown eyes stay trained on me and a hollow feeling washes over me.
“I don’t know, Coach. I honestly don’t have a fuckin’ clue.”
“Language, boy,” he warns. “Now, what’s the problem? You’re a big shot in the NFL, got money, got fame, but something missing?”
Camila is talking to one of the fakes but she bounces her gaze off them to me, the woman in front of her not even realizing she doesn’t have Camila’s full attention.
“You could say that. I guess…I don’t know, I guess I’m just lonely.”
A big belly laugh escapes from Coach, catching the attention from everyone in the room. They stop what they’re doing, shocked to hear someone laughing at a wake. I shake my head, joining his laughter. When we both calm down, he looks at me. “No women to keep you company?”
“Oh, there’s plenty of women, Coach, just not from the one I want.” My eyes meet Camila’s and my heart aches even deeper. Honestly, I didn’t want to be anywhere else than in her arms when I got the news about my mother. Camila is my safe place and I hate it.
Coach turns his head and nods. “Ah, she interested in someone else?”
I shrug and lean back against the hard wood of the church bench. “Something like that.”
“Does she know how you feel? Have you told her?”
Coach reclines beside me and we both watch as Blake moves his hand to Cami’s waist, pulling her toward him. I sigh and shake my head. “No use.”
“No use? What kind of attitude is that? The Evan Purser I remember never just rolled over and gave up. No, he walked up to that line of scrimmage and growled at his opponent, daring him to cross the line.”
“Coach, football is different and it’s obvious there’s no use fighting for her.”
“You’re sitting here, pissed off at all these people who are here who never gave a rat’s ass about your mother. Am I right? You think they’re all phony?”
I nod. “Yeah, exactly.”
“Well, if you don’t use that same determination off the field as you do on the field then you’re a fake just like all of them.”
Wow, a punch in the gut. “Come on, Coach. This is diff—”
“Different? I don’t think so. You’re settling, just like Buddy Dunn. He could’ve played ball in college, maybe gotten drafted, but you know what? He didn’t put in the effort. He settled for a job at his dad’s shop and gave up. You have nothing to lose, Evan. Give your brother a run for his money and see who comes out the man on top.”
I nod, I don’t want to fuc
kin’ settle. That’s exactly what my mom did. She got knocked up with Blake, married our asshole father, and when he left, she drank herself into oblivion, never trying to rise above it. I’m not going to be mediocre. I’m going to push myself outside my limits. Fuck San Diego, Chicago here I come.
Camila
The hearse leads the processional from the funeral home to the cemetery. I sit between the Purser brothers, neither of them speaking. In fact, Evan hasn’t said a word since I broke the news to him back in San Diego and we’ve pretty much been together non-stop. Immediately, the two of us flew to Florida and I began planning the funeral on my own, Evan was by my side but wanted no part in making decisions and Blake couldn’t fly down until the next day.
I reach over and take Evan’s hand in mine. He doesn’t pull it away, but he doesn’t acknowledge it either. While he hasn’t said it, I know Evan blames himself because he wasn’t with her. Hell, I’m blaming myself because I didn’t push the brothers to follow-through on the idea to move her to California. I tighten my hand around his and rest my head on his shoulder.
The town car we’re riding in comes to a stop. Blake steps out of the vehicle, shaking hands and guiding guests under the tent that’s set up to block out the Florida sun. Evan is like a statue as he stares at the hearse in front of us and the pallbearers pull out the casket. A fat tear rolls down his cheek and I wipe it away with my thumb.
“How’re you holding up?” I obviously know the answer to the question but this will at least force him to speak to me.
“Don’t, Cami, I’m not in the fuckin’ mood,” Evan mutters, not taking his eyes off his mother’s burial box.
I brush my lips across his shoulder. “Evan, I’m here if you need anything.”
Evan roughly shrugs me off and I fall back into the space Blake was sitting. “See, Camila, you’re not. You’re not my fuckin’ girlfriend, you’re not my fuckin’ friend, all you are is my fuckin’ agent.”
I suck in my breath at his words while he leans forward, his elbows on his knees and his hands hiding his face. Taking a chance, I run my hand down the stiff material of his suit coat that we just bought two days prior. Evan wipes his hand across his face, trying to hide the tears coming hard and fast.
“She’s gone now, Cami, and I have no one. She might not have been the best mom in the world, but she’s the only woman who’s ever loved me.”
“Evan, you’re not alone. I may not be your girlfriend, but we’re still friends.”
Evan stares at the floorboard. “I’ve cared about two women in my life, one is dead and the other’s sitting right beside me but couldn’t be further away.” He looks up, staring into my eyes. “You don’t want me, that’s fine, but I’m not going to sit around and watch you and Blake flaunt your relationship. I’ll sign with Chicago.”
My heart sinks but before I can respond, Evan is out of the car. Desperate times call for desperate measures and I know exactly what I have to do.
CHAPTER 16
Camila
“Camila, if you wear a hole in the rug, you know the big boss will make you pay for it.” Kip speaks to me without looking up from his computer.
I smooth out the cream colored, mid-thigh pencil skirt I’m wearing and glance down at my green heels. “Why did I wear this? This outfit is all wrong,” I announce, turning to go back to my office.
Kip jumps up, blocking the exit and closing his door. He shakes my shoulders as he speaks to me in that authoritative tone usually reserved for negotiations. “Your outfit is fine, you’ve already changed three times since you got here. Besides, I really don’t think your outfit will be the thing that shocks him, so stop worrying about it.”
Taking a deep breath, I nod. “But, what if he tears up the contract?”
“Then he’s an idiot. You got the man a million dollar signing bonus, he should be more than happy with what he’s about to get.”
I frown, sticking my bottom lip out for emphasis. Kip’s worked with me long enough though and is immune to my pouty face. Laughing, he jostles me again. “Find your confidence, Lemos and get your gameface on.”
Swallowing the fear that’s creeping over me, I tilt my head up. “You’re right. This is just another business transaction. Why am I so worried?”
“When was the last time you talked to Evan?”
My shoulders drop because this is the real reason I’m worried about the contract signing about to take place. “Spoke to him? At his mother’s funeral. Saw him? At Blake’s celebratory dinner after he signed his contract.”
The Seawolves wouldn’t budge. They only wanted one Purser brother and it wasn’t Evan. Despite my best negotiation skills, which may have resorted to begging in this situation, they wouldn’t offer Evan anymore and Blake signed for much more than any of us could have dreamed. Blake is set to be a Californian for the next five years with no money worries to bother him.
Evan told me he’d sign with Chicago and no more work was needed on my end. Whatever happened between us is in the past and he’s still a client so I did for him what I’d do for any of my athletes. I managed to get the Lancers to put in writing a deal that included a million dollar signing bonus, five million dollars for five years with the option to extend for another two. Plus, I already have Evan a penthouse apartment on Grand Plaza set up and ready for him to move in. Of course, the stubborn younger Purser hasn’t returned any voicemails and the only confirmation I had that he’ll be here to sign today is a text message that said, “Sure.”
Kip lets out a low whistle. “Wow, so he doesn’t know anything? What about Blake?”
Almost giving myself whiplash, I shake my head quickly. “It’ll be a surprise for both of them.”
Kip steps aside, giving me access to the door. Looking over his shoulder, we both see Evan Purser standing at the receptionist desk. My heartbeat works triple time as I take him in, he’s wearing a pair of tan cargo shorts, a skin-tight, white V-neck t-shirt and a pair of flip-flops. If any other of my clients showed up to a contract signing wearing that, I would tell them to march back outside and change clothes. As it is, I just want to get this over with before my nerves eat away at my stomach.
Kip turns back to me. “Last chance. You sure about this?”
Taking one step past him, I strut out of his office. “I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.”
Evan
The blonde behind the desk at Netsports is cute, a little flat chested for my liking, but I’m sure she’d be willing to go out and “celebrate” with me after my signing. Not that there’s really anything to celebrate. As always, Blake got exactly what he wanted and gets to stay in San Diego while I’m getting shipped off to Siberia, or so it seems to me.
Worse than football in snow, Blake got the girl. Not that there was really ever any competition. Camila is a saleswoman and that’s exactly what she was doing to me. She got me to trust and lust after her, but her plan was foiled when I refused to be her puppy on a leash. Except in the end, that’s exactly what I am. Fuck it, I don’t care, I’m going to be two-thousand miles away so I’ll rarely see her. Out of sight, out of mind… or so they say. No matter the amount of distance I’ve put between us since the NFL draft, she’s been front and center in my mind.
A woman clears her throat behind the blonde receptionist and I look up to see Camila looking sexy as ever. Her short skirt makes her long legs look even longer and the lace of her bra peeks out underneath her white button-up blouse. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from licking my lips. Thank God I won’t see her too often.
“Ready, Evan?” she asks. Her self-assured voice pissing me off even more than my body’s reaction to the sight of her.
I follow her down a hallway, watching her tight ass sway back and forth. The urge to grab her and shove her against the wall is strong. I cram my hands deep in my pockets to keep from doing so. Camila opens a door and stands in front of it. I have to turn sideways to step into the conference room, her breasts brushing against my ches
t. I fight the groan wanting to escape and take a seat at the table. Geez, I’ve gotten head or been laid almost every other day, so I’m slightly irritated at how much I want her.
Camila closes the door and steps inside. I look around the room, realizing it’s just the two of us. “Where’s everyone else? I thought the Lancers’ staff would be here?”
“Oh, is that why you dressed up?” she says boldly, lifting her eyebrow in an accusatory way.
“Like it fuckin’ matters? The contract’s done so who cares what I wear?”
Camila moves the empty chair beside me and leans against the table, her legs going on forever and tempting me to run my hands between my thighs. She drops a set of papers in front of me. “Thought you might want to read through it before the Lancers get here, you know, since you haven’t returned any of my phone calls.”
Yeah, because I’m trying to avoid you, which is really hard when her and Blake are constantly together. Looking away from her, and her legs, I skim the legalese part of the contract, skipping to the monetary agreement. Five million—yeah, I already knew that. Possible contract extension—ha, like I’ll really want to stay there after five years. One million signing bonus.
I glance up and see Camila chewing on her bottom lip nervously, something rare for her. “One mil signing bonus? Seriously?”
She moves her head up and down. “Keep reading,” she mutters, barely audible.
Definitely wasn’t expecting that, it’s a perk, although I’m not sure what the hell I need all that money for. I’ve never been in this game for greed, only for the sport. I would’ve accepted the Seawolves offer, lowball and all, but I needed away from the constant reminder of Camila.