Kick (Completion Series)

by Holly S. Roberts

  Van’s hand landed on mine. I tried to pull back, but he squeezed my fingers and pressed them into the table. “I went back for you, Cami. It’s you who turned me down. Now you’re with my brother. What am I supposed to think?” Van didn’t stop there. “He comes after me, determined to rip my head off, almost succeeds, and all because you’re in his bed now. The last thing I think this is,” his hand finally released mine, “is a joke. So tell me, Miss Avesque, what am I supposed to think?”

  I slowly drew my trembling fingers into my lap. Shame filled me. What could I say? My head had lowered as he spoke, but now I looked up, peering into his eyes. Eyes that appeared sincere. An expression that actually looked hurt. “You didn’t wait twenty-four hours before you screwed another woman. I was a one-night stand.”

  The intensity in his eyes remained. “If I hadn’t slept with that woman would you still be with me, Cami?”

  It took a minute for me to answer, but I gave him honesty. “Yes, Van. I would. I fell a little in love with you that night. Stupid, but true.” I noticed Van’s eyes looking over my shoulder and without turning around—I knew Joel stood behind me. I glanced over. Van’s hurt expression a minute before didn’t compare to Joel’s. His eyes searched mine for a moment before he pivoted and walked away.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  What the hell had I done?

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  At my stricken look, Van stood up. “Stay here and eat. I’ll go talk to him,” he said with what sounded like frustration.

  I was too upset to answer. I should be the one going after Joel. What could I say? Nothing. I’d told Van the truth. It didn’t take away from my feelings for Joel, but there was no way to explain it. I knew both brothers intimately now. There was no comparison between the two. Joel was it for me and I’d completely fucked it up.

  My food arrived. My stomach was too upset to take more than a few bites. I was afraid I wouldn’t keep even that down. I paid the bill and walked across the street. I didn’t see Joel or Van, so I went to our room. Joel’s things were gone and the door between us was locked on his side. I knocked, but he didn’t answer. I had no idea if he was in there. I had fifteen minutes until the bus left. I packed my things and went downstairs.

  I could hear the shouts from outside before I got to the large lobby doors. Players were trying to hold both brothers apart without much success. I noticed Joel’s bloody face as he managed to tear free and attack Van. He got in a good punch before the guys could grab him again. Van was fighting back too.

  “Let me the fuck go,” he yelled, trying to get away from the arms holding him.

  Brothers.

  I’d done this to them.

  I went back into the hotel. “I need to book a room for another night, please.” The fact I hadn’t broken down was a miracle. I took out my credit card and handed it to the clerk.

  “Cami.” It was Mike.

  I turned. “I won’t be going back with the team.” I gave Mike a trembling smile.

  “Are you sure?”

  “It’s for the best. I’m sorry. When Joel will listen just tell him I’m sorry.” My voice quivered and I turned away to wipe a tear from my eye. When I looked back, Mike was walking through the front door. I watched as the guys pushed Van onto the bus and after a few other players got on, they forced Joel up the steps.

  I wasn’t going back. It would probably mean my job, but I could no longer handle my screw ups. The bus left and I walked dejectedly to my room. I hadn’t thought to ask for a different one, so I was back in the room I’d shared with Joel. I put the do not disturb sign on the door and crawled into the bed that still smelled like him.

  I broke down crying and replayed every minute of my time with Joel. Every touch, every kiss, every time I should have told him I loved him.

  Eventually, I fell asleep. I woke up with another headache, took more ibuprofen, and fell back to sleep. It was three in the afternoon before I crawled out from under the covers. I got online and looked for a plane ticket. I booked a flight out of Morgantown. It cost a small fortune because of the short notice. I called a cab to drop me at the airport and left West Virginia and Ohio behind.

  I was on the aisle, but I got lucky and the seat in the middle was empty. I pulled out my laptop and wrote. Not just taking information from my notes. I wrote about my feelings on sports in general, the change I’d gone through in such a short time since starting my series on rugby. I wrote about Stub’s pictures that she took and money she raised for youth rugby. I wrote about The Sentinel—how Charlie took pride in its small readership and wanted to give the community a twice-weekly print run. I tried to capture the essence of rugby fans and players. Their hearts that pumped the insane devotion through their veins.

  I didn’t notice the hours go by. I was lost in turning the vivid pictures in my head into a story. By the time I made it back to my small apartment, I had more than six-thousand words divided into four segments, a resignation letter, and a broken heart. I fell into bed knowing my dreams of a career in journalism would end the following day. That I could live with. Living without Joel was another story.

  If any morning required a latte, it was Monday. I dressed professionally, wearing a form-fitting lace bra that was hiding in the back of my underwear drawer. My shirt was frilly and lower cut than I’d ever worn to the office. I had decided to leave my job without hiding my body.

  After hastily drinking my coffee, I drove to the post office and shipped Stub her camera with a note of apology. I’d downloaded several pictures, including the one of Joel in the locker room. Whether Stub was able to get his permission to sell the photo or not, it was special to me and I was keeping a copy. I also mailed my rental car key to the agency which I’d called so they knew where to pick up the car in Colt.

  I drove to the newspaper and went straight to Miller’s office. “I don’t have an appointment, but could you ask Mr. Miller if he has a few minutes to speak with me?” I said to his receptionist. She showed me into his office a moment later. Miller’s eyes strayed to my chest, but I wasn’t cowering any longer. He could look his fill for the few minutes it would take to hand over my generic letter of resignation. He jerked his gaze back to my eyes, which I gave him credit for.

  I spoke to alleviate the awkward silence. “Thank you for seeing me this morning,” I said handing the envelope over. “I’ll make this short. I didn’t go into detail in my resignation letter, but I owe you the truth. I slept with one of the players and I’m no longer welcome to accompany the team. I behaved unprofessionally and I’m resigning in order to save the Cleveland News and Journal the hassle of firing me. I’ve emailed you my completed story, though I’m not sure if you’ll want to run it. You did pay for it and I believe it’s quite good.” I didn’t stop, though I knew I was rushing through this just wanting to get out. “Thank you for the opportunity to cover this story.” I didn’t put out my hand, just spun toward the door.

  “Cami.”

  “Yes, sir?” I barely glimpsed over my shoulder.

  “Please return to the second floor and your previous work. I’ll look over what you’ve written—the article and your resignation letter. I’ll get back to you by the end of the day. Can you do that?”

  I know he asked if I was capable of working because my eyes were pooling with tears. “Yes, sir.”

  “Simply Miller.”

  I left without saying another word.

  My heart thudded against my chest until I thought it would burst. Then I reminded myself a broken heart couldn’t suffer additional damage. Ted was unlucky enough to be the first person I saw when I walked onto the second floor.

  “Cami.” He sounded surprised. His eyes slowly scrutinized my body from head to toe and returned to my chest. “We weren’t expecting you back for another week or so.” From his expression, he wanted to bury his face between my boobs.

  “Are you speaking to me or my breasts?” You would think his head would snap up, but he just continued looking at my chest
for at least another minute.

  His voice went hoarse. “Cami, I missed you.”

  “Since you had the balls to tell everyone we were sleeping together, I’m sure you did. Since I know that’s a lie, I can truthfully admit I didn’t miss you at all.” His face went red, which only gave me additional courage. “Please refrain from retrieving my personal phone number from HR as you threatened in your email. I would hate to have someone in their department fired because of you. Now if you don’t mind, I have work to catch up on.”

  During my quiet tirade he looked up into my eyes for the first time. Yes, my eyes, which I refused to lower. He didn’t say another word before slithering away. I went straight to my desk and turned on my computer.

  “You go girl,” Kathy, the woman who had the desk next to me, whispered.

  I let a slight grin appear on my lips as I began looking through my email. I acted like what just happened was nothing out of the ordinary. A short message from Skylar waited.

  Cami,

  Don’t worry about Ted the Turd. Save his email. If you have any additional problems with him, forward copies to HR. I’ll set the boss straight. I met my husband while working a story. I can attest to the physical attributes of athletes and how irresistible I find them.

  Lonely momma to be,

  S

  I gave my first full smile in almost twenty-four hours. A moment later, I buried myself in boring work. I tried to keep my mind focused and not think about my meeting at the end of the day with Miller and how much I would miss this place. I refused to allow even a spark of hope. I didn’t deserve my job.

  At lunch time, Kathy stood at my desk.

  “I’m not taking no for an answer. You’re joining me and my friends for lunch today.” She had a clique of women friends from assorted departments at the paper. I’d never wanted to be part of her group. Though shyness was the key reason, my lack of funds was also a problem. I hadn’t brought a lunch with me today because I hadn’t expected to remain at the office I needed to eat.

  “I’d love to,” I answered with a smile and met her eyes. We walked past Ted, who was hiding in his office with his eyes glued to his computer screen. We didn’t speak in the crowded elevator, but as soon as we were out on the sidewalk Kathy started laughing.

  “I’m so glad to hear you didn’t sleep with that weasel. I don’t think any of us believed it, but you never know. He strutted around the office the entire time you were gone.”

  I had no idea where we were going until she stepped into a small bistro and I saw several of her friends waiting. Kathy introduced me and then told her group about my confrontation with Ted.

  “I always thought Ted the Turd was a nice guy,” I said after Kathy finished with the story.

  This received a quiet round of applause mixed with laughter. I told Kathy’s friends why I was back early and about my resignation. I didn’t go into detail or mention Joel’s name, just that I behaved inappropriately.

  Paulette, a tall brunette with curly hair and a nice smile, was the first to put me at ease. “Well… I’ve seen pictures of rugby players and I can’t blame you. The abs on those men are lickably sweet.” She was a secretary for one of the upper managers and she went on to tell me she was a no-holds-barred, eye-candy aficionado.

  They peppered me with endless questions about the players and their bodies. It was exactly what I needed. Skylar was usually part of their lunch group and she kept them up on the AAA—Abs and Ass Alert. They were having a girls get together at Skylar’s home on Friday night and invited me even if I no longer worked for the paper. My foray into the world of socializing was a success.

  I spent my afternoon working and alternately staring at the bottom right-hand corner of my computer screen where the clock changed at a snail’s pace. At four-ten Miller’s secretary called and told me to head up. Kathy gave me a brief hug before I left the floor. I was shown immediately into Miller’s office.

  “Sit down and let’s talk,” he said as he waved me into a chair. I was barely seated when he tossed my resignation envelope in front of me. “You need to keep this. I’m pretending I never saw it.” He picked up a stack of papers. “I emailed a copy of your articles to Bob Shirley. I rarely do that, but, quite frankly, you’ve taken a sport I know nothing about and made me curious. You captured the passion, love, and downright craziness of the game and added a personal flare.”

  He set the papers down. “Editing has it in their hands now and there may be a change or two, but we’re running the entire series. There’s one catch.” He tapped his finger on my articles. “If this team makes it to the championship, you’re going back for the final game.” He held up his hand when I tried to speak. “There is a downside in all this. We don’t have a place for you in the sports department. We aren’t sure where to put you at the moment, but your talent is wasted in classifieds. Now you may say what’s on your mind.” He smiled. “If you dare.”

  There were so many thoughts spinning through my head. “The championship, I…”

  “You’re not getting out of this.” I could tell by his expression that it was a closed subject.

  “Thank you, Miller.”

  “That’s what I thought you would say. It might be a few days, but you will be reassigned. I’m sure you have items to finish up in your current projects, so get that done. Good job, Cami. I look forward to future work from you.”

  I walked out with my resignation letter clutched in my hand and went straight to the second floor where I shredded it. Kathy gave me a large hug, and my fellow classified workers congratulated me.

  My dream was finally coming true and I was completely miserable.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  My assignment came on Thursday. I reported directly to Miller now and was one of three journalists working non-profit organization news. It was a huge step up, though not exactly my dream. On my own time, Miller said I could research stories that crumbled your heart and made you stand up and cheer. Through non-profit I had a greater chance of finding them. And I had a small office on the third floor.

  The new Cami charged forward and made friends with my two co-workers immediately. Trett and Julianne, who told me to call her JJ, were eager to get me into the fold. Saturday night I was attending a black tie dinner for the local hospital reporting on the guest speakers and fashion. Not exactly my cup of tea, but Trett was accompanying me to teach me the ropes. After work Friday, JJ accompanied me to an upscale secondhand shop for a dress.

  The third one I tried on was a charm. It displayed entirely too much boob, but JJ thought it was perfect.

  “I would give anything to have your chest. Surgery for me someday and I will.” I didn’t dare tell her I had a coin savings jar for future breast reduction.

  The black gown hugged my figure, leaving my shoulders and back bare. The halter neckline allowed for a bra in the same style. Looking into the mirror in the small dressing room made me feel like a mature woman, no longer a girl, or young woman. I pushed my shoulders back and promised myself the new Cami was here to stay.

  I had just enough time to get back to my apartment, change clothes, and drive to Skylar’s for our girl’s night in. Skylar barely had a baby bump. She looked really good and I told her so.

  “It’s frustrating because I feel great now that the nausea has backed off. Bed rest is not for me, but somehow I’ll survive. Miller forwarded your series. I’m surprised they didn’t give you my job.”

  That had me smiling. “I’m a liability when it comes to man muscle, so they cut their losses.”

  Everyone laughed, and Skylar shared her story about meeting her husband, a retired professional baseball player. “We actually had sex for the first time in the locker room where anyone could have walked in. I was quite naïve back then. Les scooped me up to protect me from the other big, bad ball players, or at least that’s what he said. He much prefers me working women’s sporting events. He has no idea how many good-looking men are involved in female sports and I’ll kee
p it that way.”

  The women all started talking about the naughtiest places they had sex. Even with continually pink cheeks, I had a blast. It wasn’t until I was home in bed that I thought about The Slam’s match the following day. How could I want them to win so badly when I needed them to lose? I missed Joel so badly, and it was hours before I fell asleep.

  The match wasn’t broadcast on any cable stations, but it was streamed live by a local television station in Ohio. If I enlarged the video on my laptop it was blurry, so I was stuck watching a small box where I could barely make out players’ faces. I stayed glued to my laptop throughout the entire match. The Slam won by seven and I was going to the championship.

  I decided not to think about it and slowly got ready for the charity dinner. I tried my hair in several styles, finally settling on an up-sweep that got it off my shoulders and exposed more skin. I was now the new Cami who didn’t hide her assets.

  Trett whistled and told me he’d do me if he wasn’t gay. I’d had no idea he was gay and heat rose to my cheeks, which only had him laughing.

  “I’ve been in a serious relationship for two years. Lars has no problem with me escorting ladies to these events because he hates them.” He showed me his engagement ring.

  I relaxed because Trett was gorgeous and had the build that usually made me lose my senses. Being able to enjoy his company with no fear of wild Cami coming out was a great feeling. “Is non-profit something you enjoy or do you have higher aspirations?” I asked during our ride to the venue.

  “I majored in meteorology and minored in journalism. I’ve been working on a weatherman gig for a few years now, but haven’t gotten a break. I won’t give up, and I know it could take years. So what’s your story?”

  I told him about my journalist dreams and we learned more about each other until we arrived. I had a recorder in my small clutch bag. Trett told me to turn it on voice activation before we joined the party. He led me through the evening as he spoke with the organizers and interviewed the guest speaker. We ate dinner while the man spoke at the podium.