After All These Years (One Pass Away #2)

by Mary J. Williams

  Gaige simply shrugged. He grabbed his helmet. Most of the team were already gathered at the far end of the room for Coach Coleman’s pre-game talk.

  “Gaige,” Sean stopped him before he could leave. He lowered his voice even though there was no one around them to hear. “Tell me she didn’t leave because of me.”

  “One day, Sean, you’re going to wake up and realize the world does not revolve around you. Riley left because it was time to move on with her life. Away from her parents. Away from the Preston name.”

  Sean felt a wave of relief. With a grin, he slapped Gaige on the back.

  “Good for her. I’m sure a year away will do her good.”

  Except it hadn’t been a year. Or two. It had been five. And now she was back.

  Sean hadn’t spent a lot of time thinking about her. Every now and then—for no reason—he would wonder how she was doing. He knew that Gaige was in regular contact, even visiting from time to time.

  Occasionally, someone like Sol or Pete would ask how Riley was doing. Gaige didn’t supply very much information. The basics, nothing more. She loved Harvard. She graduated near the top of her class. No, she wasn’t coming back to Seattle.

  Sean lived his life. Riley lived hers. Separate and happy. At least, Sean was happy. He had to assume she was the same. Again, he didn’t give it much thought.

  When had that changed? Sean wondered. He was still happy enough. However, there was a mildly unsettled feeling. A discontent with the status quo. He felt as if he were waiting for something big to happen. It was only a matter of what and when.

  Wondering about Riley on a regular basis had snuck up on him. That first mention of her return, almost six months ago, had started the ball rolling.

  “Did you see Riley Preston?” The comment had come from Bryce Anders. The weak side safety joined the team six years ago. Just before Riley had moved to Boston.

  “Preston? As in the owner?” Tony Long shoved a t-shirt into his bag. He had only been playing defensive tackle for the Knights for two years. “Is she a relative?”

  “Daughter. The last time I saw her, she was this skinny thing. Her hair was always pulled back into a ponytail and she wore no makeup.”

  “And now?”

  “Crazy good! Skinny no more. Great curves and an ass to be proud of.”

  “Wonder how she feels about sexy football players with tattoos?” Tony flexed his ink-covered bicep.

  “I saw her first,” Bryce said, giving his buddy a friendly shove.

  “Maybe we can tag-team her. That redhead from Hooters loved every minute.”

  “Let it go.” Gaige grabbed Sean’s arm when he would have followed the other men as they left the locker room.”

  “They shouldn’t talk about Riley that way. Hell, they shouldn’t talk about her at all.”

  “It doesn’t mean anything. How many times have you made comments about a random woman?”

  Sean opened his mouth to protest but nothing came out. He could argue that Riley was different. But was she? The women he spoke of were someone’s sister or friend or daughter. He hadn’t thought of that when he bragged up his many exploits. It wasn’t fair to expect his teammates to be any different. However, a little voice that he had never heard before made it clear.

  This was not a random woman. This was Riley.

  “You didn’t tell me she was back.”

  “Why would I?” Gaige grabbed his bag. “You didn’t show any interest while she was away. It didn’t occur to me that you would care what she was up to one way or the other.”

  “We talk about all kinds of shit.”

  “Not Riley.”

  “I know.” Sean walked out the door behind Gaige. “Why? I liked the kid. The only time you mention her is when one of the guys specifically asks.”

  “One of the guys. Not you. Nothing was stopping you, Sean. Unless it was guilt.”

  “Hey, you told me she didn’t leave town because of me.” Sean gave Gaige a sharp look. “Was that a lie?”

  “She left for the reasons I stated. This isn’t about her feelings. It’s about yours. Just because there is no reason to feel guilty, doesn’t mean the feeling isn’t there.”

  “It isn’t,” Sean stated firmly. And he meant it—mostly. “My conscience is clear.”

  “Fair enough.” Gaige disengaged the locks on his car. “Let’s stop at The Ridge. All I’ve been able to think about for the last hour is one of their thick, juicy steaks.”

  Sean slid into the passenger side. His car was in the shop—as usual. It was time to give up on the vintage Jag and go with something new and shiny.

  “I’ve been trying to cut back on red meat.” Sean tried to eat healthily. Sometimes he succeeded. Sometimes he didn’t. “Hell, who am I kidding. Steak it is.”

  “There’s my man.”

  “About Riley.”

  “No.” Gaige smoothly pulled into traffic.

  “I—”

  “Don’t bother her, Sean. If Riley wants to see you, she will. You haven’t given her a second thought in five years. Now is not the time to change that.”

  As it turned out, that was easier said than done. The proverbial Genie was out of the bottle and there wasn’t any putting it back.

  Sean closed his eyes. He felt dead tired but his brain wouldn’t shut down. Rolling off the couch, he walked to where his phone was plugged. The illuminated dial read one thirty-five. Not too late to call up Simone. With a little charm and a properly worded apology, she might be willing to let him make a booty call.

  He waited for his body to respond. Nope. His dick lay as dormant as a bear in winter. Not even a twitch of interest. Sean pulled up a picture. His current favorite. One look and his dick sprang to attention.

  Riley.

  He had downloaded the shot from a gossip site. The article had hinted—in very broad strokes—that she was smiling at a certain cyber-billionaire who had made his money in his twenties and, in his thirties, retired to the good life. Sean recognized the name. Was that Riley’s type? Brains over brawn?

  Unconsciously, Sean rolled his head, the muscles in his back flexing. With one more look at Riley’s sparkling blue eyes and dark hair. Had it aways been shot with streaks of red?

  Sean entered his bathroom. Before he moved into the loft, he had the entire place gutted and redecorated to his specifications. That included a shower big enough to fit four adults. In his hedonistic imagination, he pictured himself and one, two, or three lovely ladies playing water games of the best kind. Lather, fuck, repeat.

  The reality had been more PG than triple-X. He had been living here for almost a year and the only action his shower had seen was Sean giving himself a helping hand.

  It didn’t take him long to weigh his options. Toss and turn all night or take care of his most immediate problem. Sean needed help. When he had to debate himself on the merits of masturbation, he knew he was in trouble.

  Leaning a hand against the marble tile, he hit the soap dispenser with the other. The lemon scent hit him as he closed his eyes and spread his legs. He groaned with relief, his strokes long and slow. He could picture another hand. Smaller. Softer. It made his breath quicken when he imagined another body close to his. The fantasy didn’t last. It never did. Just long enough for him to reach his peak and call out her name.

  Riley.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “HOW DO THEY look, Coach?”

  “You know me, Riley. I’m cautiously optimistic.”

  Harry Coleman smiled at her, his face lined from years of experience and exposure to the elements. The life of a head coach wasn’t easy on the skin—or the digestion—but it was his life. And he loved every second.

  “Which is exactly what you said at your press conference this morning. Tell me what you didn’t tell them.”

  “If Logan Price’s knee holds up, we’ll field the best team I’ve had with the Knights.”

  “Gaige’s pet project is working out?”

  When Logan Price hurt hi
s knee during his rookie year, it was a long shot he would ever play again. Watching him out on the field, running with ease—the joy of a little boy shining on his face—was a sight to see. She was happy for him. And thrilled for the team.

  “Don’t play coy,” Harry scoffed. “I don’t know what you said to put that in motion, but thank you. This could be our year.”

  That was what Riley wanted to hear. She knew they looked good. The talent was there—so was the dedication. They were hungry for a championship. As were the other thirty-one NFL teams. Between now and February, there would be plenty of ups and downs. Injuries. Arguments. A few flat out tantrums. It was Harry’s job to deal with the problems once the season started.

  Riley hoped that management had given him the tools to get them to the top of the mountain. They were champions. On paper. However, no one handed you a trophy in September. To be the last team standing, they had to pull it all together when it mattered most.

  Pulling a few strings from the other side of the country hadn’t been easy. Riley had encouraged the team to draft Mikhail Branch. He was a tough center with nerves of steel and could snap the ball with pinpoint accuracy. He protected Gaige like a favorite son. The two had made the Pro Bowl three years straight.

  “Denver looks tough this year.” The Knights kicked the season off against the Broncos.

  “Every team is tough.” Harry shot her a look and laughed. “It’s the NFL.”

  “Any given Sunday,” Riley grinned. It was a cliché for a reason. No matter the record or the personnel, you had to play the game. Upsets happened all the time.

  “Any given Sunday,” Harry chimed back.

  It was Tuesday. Riley felt as though she was a little girl waiting for Christmas. It seemed like game day would never get here.

  Five years. It was a long time to go without something you loved so much. Riley could have gone to games on the East Coast, but it would have felt like cheating. She had watched the Knights on TV, determined that the next time she watched them live, it would be in Seattle.

  Now that the day drew close, she felt a stirring of nerves. If this kept up, come Sunday, she would be a mess.

  “I’ll see you tonight?”

  “I haven’t missed a kick-off party in twenty years,” Harry stated. “My wife buys a new dress every year.”

  “And what do you buy, Harry?”

  Harry Coleman was notorious for owning two suits. One for weddings, one for funerals. As far as he was concerned, if you were going to wear a tie, the moment better be a big one.

  “New underwear,” he quipped.

  “Okay.” Smiling, Riley shook her head. Lord, she had missed this man. “I’m sorry I asked. Some things should remain a mystery.”

  “Never look behind the curtain, little girl. The wizard is never what he seems.”

  With those prophetic words, Harry Coleman blew his whistle, officially calling an end to the practice.

  “Riley.”

  Gaige jogged over. His face was flushed and his blond hair matted with sweat. He was sexy as hell. Some would say she was an idiot for not falling for him. Riley would say she had nothing to do with it. She was happy to say that her heart, or whatever determined such things, was immune to the potent charms of Mr. Gaige Benson.

  Riley loved him unreservedly—as a friend. Gaige was a layer of bedrock she knew she could always count on for support. Romantic love fogged the brain and screwed things up. She knew that from bitter experience.

  “You look fresh as a daisy.”

  “And you look like you’ve been run ragged. Those new recruits too much for you?”

  “The day I can’t outmaneuver a few rookies is the day I hang up my cleats.” He winked, his green eyes twinkling with humor. “One more season.”

  “Don’t remind me.” Unconcerned about putting her clean blouse against his dirty jersey, Riley hugged him tight. “I want you to change your mind.”

  “Time passes, Riley.” Gaige gently kissed her brow. “The first time I threw a spiral, you couldn’t pronounce the word football.”

  “Don’t give me that I’m an old man routine. You made those twenty-somethings eat your dust today.”

  “Experience only trumps enthusiasm for so long. By the end of the season, those rookies will be mowing down rival QBs.”

  “Then we’ll be glad they’re on our side.”

  “Every side has them.”

  Gaige had been dodging them for years with varying degrees of success. The chances of one of those eager puppies causing him major damage increased every year. He planned on getting out while his body, and his mind, were still in decent working order.

  This year was it. Win or lose. The affable glint left his eyes, replaced by steel and determination. Losing wasn’t an option. Gaige Benson was going out a winner if it meant kicking every ass between him and the Super Bowl.

  “You’ve done your part to get me to the top of the mountain,” he said, squeezing her affectionately. “The rest is up to those fifty-two lunkheads and me to do the rest. And here comes lunkhead number one.”

  When she tried to pull away, Gaige tightened his hold. “Stay put,” he whispered. “It won’t hurt Sean to think you’re interested.”

  “In you?” Riley almost giggled—and she never giggled. After six months of playing peek-a-boo with Sean, she thought she was ready to meet him up close and personal. So why did she want to hide? Not today, she thought. Tomorrow. Next week. Next year. Anytime but now.

  “Watch the smartass comments or I’ll disappear. You want to be alone with Sean?”

  Riley zipped her lip. She needed a buffer. Gaige’s big, solidly built body would do nicely.

  “I was hoping to finally get a chance to say welcome back. Or should I say, welcome home, Riley.”

  Sean’s voice sent a shiver up her spine. She wasn’t looking at him and her reaction was everything she hoped it wouldn’t be. Breathing deeply, Riley shifted, leaving Gaige’s arm around her shoulders.

  One look was all it took to realize it was easier to lie to herself at a distance. She could tell herself that a man was out of her blood. However, when that blood heated at the sound of her name on his lips, it was time for some hardball honesty.

  Three thousand miles and five years hadn’t changed her feelings. Her ability to hide it was another matter. Relaxing her grip on Gaige’s waist, Riley greeted Sean with a friendly smile. Warm. Impersonal.

  And fake as a three-dollar bill.

  “Thank you, Sean.”

  Riley’s smile widened. Careful. Too wide looks forced. Tone it down a bit.

  “I would have said something sooner but we always seem to miss each other.”

  “Busy lives. Neither of us has very much free time.” Riley shrugged.

  “Ships that pass in the night,” Gaige said with seeming innocence.

  Surreptitiously, Riley pinched his leg. Now who was being the smartass?

  “Can you hang around until I grab a shower?” Sean knew something was going on. Riley was twitchy and Gaige looked like he wanted to burst out laughing. “I’ll buy you a cup of coffee and we can catch up.”

  “That sounds great, Sean. Really.”

  “Really?”

  This time, Gaige’s comment earned him a harder pinch. On the ass.

  “Okay.” Gaige’s voice rose an octave. He dropped his arm, moving out of Riley’s range. “If we’re going to hit that party, we need to get a move on.”

  “The party?”

  It had slipped Sean’s mind. When Riley arrived toward the end of practice, he became entirely focused on her. He missed the last pass Gaige sent his way, the ball sailing through his fingers. It had earned him a dirty look from his QB and a few catcalls from the guys.

  One would have thought, with so long to think about it, Sean would have known what he wanted to say. As he approached Riley, he couldn’t think of a single thing. She looked fresh and sweet. A sharp contrast to the man she had her arms around.

  Gaige was swea
ty, dirty, and the way Riley plastered herself to him, it didn’t bother her one bit. Were they more than friends? Sean had never thought so before now.

  As he jogged over, he tried to look at them objectively. A man. A woman. Hugging. Innocent. Then Gaige kissed Riley’s forehead and Sean couldn’t help himself.

  What other parts of Riley’s body had his old friend kissed?

  “I don’t want to hold you up.” Riley smiled at him. She reached over and briefly clasped his arm. “We’ll catch up later.”

  “At the party?” Sean almost grabbed her hand, forcing her to maintain contact. “I can dazzle you with my dance moves.”

  “Sure. Why not.”

  “Don’t forget.”

  Sean felt awkward. Like a teenager with his first crush. He had never felt this way—not even when he was a teenager.

  “Jesus,” Gaige muttered under his breath.

  Sean noticed Gaige’s you have to be shitting me look. If he were prone to blushing, now would have been the time.

  Sean cleared his throat. “See you later, Riley.”

  “Did you know?” Riley asked Gaige when Sean was out of earshot.

  “What?”

  Gaige sighed. Now he was supposed to be a mind reader. All he wanted was a shower, some downtime with his teammates and a glass or two of top shelf whiskey. Was that too much to ask?

  “That I’m still in love with Sean.”

  “I suspected. It was up to you to decide. Nothing I said would have mattered.”

  “You could have mentioned it.”

  “Would you have wanted to hear it?”

  “No.”

  “Then…”

  “I’ve been living in a dream world.” Riley knocked the heel of her hand against her forehead. “So much for older and wiser. Maybe it’s just sex.”

  “Maybe.” Gaige almost laughed at the comically hopeful expression on her face.

  “Should I sleep with him? Get it out of my system?”

  “If you do? Don’t tell me about it.”

  Gaige didn’t want to know about Riley’s sex life—especially when he knew so much about Sean’s. He had known, when she decided to leave Boston for Seattle, there was a strong possibility Sean’s perspective regarding Riley would change. Time and distance had a way of doing that.