Tough Tackle: A Second Chance Sports Romance (Wild Boys Sports Romance Book 3)

by Harper Lauren

  “Sure, uh…”

  “Tim,” he finished. “It’s Tim Patel. I work for Mr. Walton in the U.S. but I’m just here for a vacation.”

  “If you’re on vacation, why are you with me today?”

  He chuckled. “Actually, because of you, I’ll get to stay longer in my hometown. As long as you are here, I can do my job from here.”

  “Ahhh, that’s why you sound American already,” I figured out. “How long did you live in the U.S.?”

  We began walking toward the parked Jaguar that he had used to pick me up at the airport. It looked so classy and luxurious, and I felt like a princess with my very own bodyguard!

  While in the car, I was like a little girl who’d suddenly been given a free pass to a candy store. I drank in the scenery and enjoyed just observing the neighborhood. What’s more, Tim turned out to be a very entertaining pseudo-tour guide. Soon I found myself relaxing and simply looking forward to the wonderful things in store for my future.

  My apartment was medium-sized, but beautifully decorated. It was contemporary, but with an old English ambiance. Tim said goodbye, promising to accompany me the next day to the medical research center where I was going to be oriented about my scholarship grant.

  All alone with nothing to do, my mind drifted back to Drake. I tried to busy myself unpacking and then reading the grant materials I’d been given, but it wouldn’t work. I really, really missed him. Terribly.

  Upon connecting to the wifi, I sort of expected a message from him. But I got nothing. Nada. There were only messages from Mom, Dad, Lauren, and other well-wishers.

  Sighing, I decided to take a walk and check out the neighborhood where I was going to be spending a year in. It turned out to be a fascinating walk. I was, naturally, feeling like a tourist who’d immersed myself in another country and their culture.

  As the surroundings dimmed, I found myself going into a classic but quirky 18th century London tea room, extravagantly designed like in those English movie reruns I used to watch at home. There was a lot of options to choose from, which both confused and thrilled me.

  “What the heck!” I muttered to myself when I saw the menu prices. It’s my first day in London and I’m brokenhearted. I deserve to splurge a bit.

  I tried not to cringe as I ordered their famous afternoon tea set. I just realized I was starving, and honestly, I just wanted to forget all my problems for the meantime and just revel in the wonderful fact that I was in London.

  I took my time choosing among the various types of tea available. Finally I settled on Darjeeling. The gentle, floral aroma calmed me. I closed my eyes as I sipped it bit by bit from a beautiful teacup.

  When the set of tiny but mouthwatering sandwiches and pastries arrived on layers of platters, I could hardly contain myself. I gobbled up a lot of it in just a short period of time. When I was totally full and there wasn’t much left of it, it suddenly struck me that I was binge-eating. That wasn’t a good sign.

  No, it’s real bad, I thought, shaking my head. Whenever I was like this, it was a sign that I was beginning to feel depressed but was trying not to admit it.

  I paid the bill and went out for an evening stroll, deep in thought. The London magic suddenly felt very surreal. I wrapped my coat tighter around my body. It was getting so cold.

  Somehow, though I hated to admit it to myself, I was starting to regret my decision to come here.

  CHAPTER 19

  DRAKE

  Tick-tock, tick-tock. I could almost hear the clock ticking away as I stared at the wooden door in front of me. I’ve been standing there for several minutes already, losing grip on what I had rehearsed I was going to say.

  My mind was swimming with what-if scenarios, making my heart pound harder with anticipation of the unknown.

  Georgia is worth it, I said to myself silently. This was the conclusion I had come to after a few days of mulling over the situation, analyzing our differences and the pathways we were building for our individual futures. All that thinking had made me realize how much I wanted to be with her. What good would my new achievements be if she wasn’t there to celebrate with me?

  We haven’t actually broken up yet officially, so I’m assuming that she’s also just cooling off.

  But what if she doesn’t want you anymore? A nagging voice whispered in my head. That was something I haven’t thought of yet. I didn’t even want to consider it.

  I took a deep breath and whispered, “Well, here goes whatever…”

  I knocked several times on the door, not knowing who I expected to see. Then I rang the doorbell too and waited.

  A minute or so passed without anyone coming to the door. It rattled me a bit, making me want to back out and just call her first.

  I looked down at the thick bouquet of long-stemmed roses in my hand.

  Suddenly, the door opened, revealing a middle-aged lady who looked a lot like Georgia. Her brown hair was tied up in a messy bun and she was a little bit sweaty. She had glasses on, too, which reminded me of Geeky Georgie. I flinched at the memory simply because I still felt awful about what I had done on prom night.

  “Hi!” the woman before me greeted with an uneasy smile. “What can I do for you?”

  She didn’t seem to recognize me, which was fantastic. Nevertheless, I knew it was impossible not to let her know who I really was.

  “I’m looking for Dr. Georgia Hill,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant. “I’m a friend of hers.”

  “And your name is—?”

  Uh-oh. “I’m, uh, Drake Walton,” I blurted out.

  The smile faded from her lips and her eyes narrowed slightly. “Drake Walton, as in the son of Roger Walton of the pharmaceutical company?”

  “Yes, that’s the one,” I said casually.

  “My daughter Georgia is not around,” she said, seeming to examine me from head to toe. “Can I take a message? Is it important?”

  The way she talked meant that Georgia had not mentioned about our relationship yet to her mom. And I was hoping her mother wouldn’t remember me from high school prom night.

  “No, it’s fine,” I said politely. “I’ll just try to contact her again. Thank you for your time.”

  I was about to turn around when the next words that came out of her mouth shocked the hell out of me.

  “Oh, do you know how to reach her in London?” Mrs. Hill asked.

  I stopped short in my tracks, frozen on the spot, a dreadful mixture of warmth and cold washing over me. Slowly I was able to turn around. “Uh, did you just say London?” I croaked, my mouth running dry, my eyes probably bulging from their sockets.

  “Yes, London,” she confirmed. “Didn’t you know? She left yesterday on short notice. It’s for this huge healthcare and sports medicine research grant she landed. Isn’t that amazing?”

  My ears seemed to be on fire, my heart almost exploding. “Yes, amazing,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “You must be proud.”

  “Oh, I sure am!” she exclaimed, her eyes shining with pride and honor. “My daughter’s finally getting her breakthrough. She’s had these big dreams for so long, and she’s worked hard for them all her life.”

  “I’m sure she’ll get to where she wants to be,” I said quietly. “Thank you once again, Mrs. Hill.”

  I went on ahead, my every step feeling really heavy that it took a while for me to get to my car.

  Once inside, I turned on the engine and slammed on the gas pedal, my head clouded with muddled memories of Georgia. My heart constricted immensely, making me feel like I was running out of breath. It was a miracle I actually got home in one piece.

  I wanted to strangle my father. He had not even bothered telling me. But of course he had his reasons. I was starting to suspect that he was doing all this on purpose just to punish me.

  I got to my room and punched my pillow hard—over and over again. Tears began to form in my eyes, but I blinked them back.

  Suddenly, I began pacing back and forth, trying to clear my mind. “I
need to think, to plan,” I mumbled to myself as ideas started to take shape inside my head.

  Instead of crying or wallowing in misery and self-pity, I paid Dad’s executive assistant a personal visit at the office. It was a good thing Dad was out of town today. I left the office with a tiny spark of hope in my heart, and went straight home to start packing my bags.

  CHAPTER 20

  GEORGIA

  After an exhausting but exciting orientation day, I found Tim waiting for me at the lobby of the medical research building. He was busy reading the paper.

  As I approached him, I couldn’t help admiring his good looks and nice physique. But then, I silently reprimanded myself for even thinking such thoughts. I wasn’t even over Drake yet, and I surely didn’t want to get involved with someone else just yet. Maybe I was just lonely.

  He looked up and smiled at me. As he lowered the paper, my eyes caught something on it—a photo of football players in very familiar uniforms. I grabbed the paper without thinking, to Tim’s astonishment, and checked the picture. It was a small feature on the charity football game of the Windfield Warriors, and of all the players, it had to be Drake on that photo.

  I shook my head in disbelief, tears springing in my eyes. I held them back, of course, pretending that nothing was wrong. “Let’s go now, Tim. I want to go home.”

  He gave me a quizzical look, but said nothing. On the way home, he was as chatty and friendly as ever, delivering interesting anecdotes on the stores and landmarks we passed. It was definitely entertaining, but somehow I just could not shake off the memory of that last football game I’d gone to. Seeing Drake’s face even just on paper made me want to get into the next plane back home and just rush into his arms.

  That evening, I spent an hour chatting with Lauren. “Jordan hasn’t heard from him either,” she told me. “So I’m not really sure if he knows that you’re there, or perhaps—”

  “Perhaps he doesn’t care,” I cut in, feeling anxious and pathetic.

  “Of course not,” Lauren said.

  “It’s my fault,” I said. “I shouldn’t have left without at least giving us another chance to straighten things. I mean, now that we’re miles apart, even oceans apart, I’m realizing how much he means to me… that we had something great going there, you know…”

  “Well, I can’t say no to that,” Lauren answered. “I really thought you two were going along great. Of course, you have your differences, but hey, which couple doesn’t, right? To be honest, I feel you should’ve really talked first and given the relationship a fair chance to recover.”

  I sighed, feeling my heart constricting hard. “We had a pretty big fight, and it made me see how greatly different our worlds and visions are, so I figured that maybe we’re better off without each other. Besides, we had both said some awful things to each other, and I don’t know if he somehow meant it, you know.”

  “I am so sure he didn’t mean it. Maybe it occurred to him, yes, but he must know deep inside that it wasn’t your intention, that you truly cared for him those months you were dating… And yeah, for now your visions for the future may be different, but you didn’t give yourselves a chance yet to adjust to each other much. It always starts that way, but the best couples eventually meet halfway and most of the time develop new visions together.”

  “Oh, my gosh,” I breathed. “You are so right, and I am so wrong. But you can’t blame me! I haven’t been in a serious relationship for like… for like… forever!”

  I threw up my free hand in frustration and plopped down my bed while I held my phone in my ear.

  “The question is…” Lauren continued. “Do you think you’re going to be happy fulfilling your dreams without Drake in your life?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I mean, I never needed anyone else. I’ve always imagined myself meeting someone who’d support me all the way.”

  “He does support you, Georgia,” Lauren said. “He was just surprised about this whole London thing, and maybe even concerned about you being used by his dad or something. Plus of course, you can’t blame him too for not wanting you to go and be away from him for an entire year!”

  I sighed again, not knowing what to say. I didn’t know what to do.

  “Look,” Lauren started. “Just send him a chat message or email him or something. If he doesn’t contact you within the week or he doesn’t respond, then that’s it. He doesn’t deserve you at all.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  Talking to my best friend always lightened the load I carried. But this time, it wasn’t significant. I felt like there were tons of bricks weighing me down, even as I fell asleep.

  The following morning, I told Tim not to drive me to the research center. I decided to get up early and walk going there. The twentyminute walk would do me a lot of good.

  As I was sauntering down the street heading toward the building, someone across caught my attention. A man who looked a lot like Drake had just left the front door. He had the same color of hair and had the same built too. I didn’t quite see the face, but I could swear it was him. Or was I seeing things now?

  I hurried over, but was too late. He’d already rounded the corner.

  This is silly and stupid, Georgia, I told myself. And it’s downright pathetic, too.

  I straightened my shoulders as I rode the elevator, trying to clear my head and control my chaotic emotions.

  When I went to the temporary work station I’d been assigned, I was shocked to find a single rose on top of my desk. There was also a cup of coffee waiting—my favorite blend, too. There was no note, though.

  Maybe Tim sent it, I thought immediately. It couldn’t possibly be Drake. Or could it? He could certainly afford to come all the way here, but would he have enough reason to do so?

  I asked the receptionist on that floor if she had seen anyone sneak in or if I’d had any visitors.

  She shook her head. “Sorry, sweetheart. No visitors or handsome strangers so early this morning.”

  One of the scientists working there suddenly passed by and overheard us. “Oh, do you mean the one who put the coffee on your table?” he said.

  My eyes widened as I turned to him. “Yes! Did you see who it was?”

  “Oh, I was the one who placed the coffee there,” he told me. “You should taste it. My wife’s selling these organic coffee beans so she’d forced to give away samples today.”

  “Oh,” I said, feeling a little disappointed. “Including the rose?”

  “What rose?” he said.

  I felt my heart jump. He didn’t put the rose there. Who could it possibly be? I shook my head, not wanting to think about Drake anymore.

  The whole morning I had a hard time concentrating, but I managed to survive. Some of my new-found colleagues and friends invited me to join them for lunch. I figured it was time to mingle and focus on my new life here. Sooner or later, I’d forget about Drake. He’d be a mere whisper from the past.

  We were at the cafe out front, having fun and enjoying our lunch, when the waiter suddenly approached us. He was holding a long white box with a ribbon and a card. “Excuse me,” he said. “Is there anyone here named Dr. Georgia Hill?”

  They all turned to look at me. I smiled awkwardly. “Yes?” I asked.

  “This is for you,” the waiter said, handing me the box.

  I looked at the card but there was nothing written on it except my name in print. “Who is it from?” I asked.

  “We don’t know, Madam. It was left by the door with a note that said it was to be delivered to the person whose name appears on the card.”

  Everyone in the table began talking at once. Some started teasing me about this mysterious “secret admirer.” Others began questioning me on who I thought it could possibly be.

  By the end of the day, I was beginning to feel annoyed. If it was Drake, why couldn’t he just show himself and talk to me straight? I hated this game.

  I decided to walk home again. When I was nearing my apartment building, I
saw Tim handing something to the doorman.

  “Hey, Tim!” I called as I hurried toward him.

  He didn’t turn around. I don’t know if he just didn’t hear me or if he was avoiding me on purpose.

  As I went inside, the doorman handed me a white envelope. Inside was a piece of paper with a beautiful sketch of me, surrounded by roses. It definitely came from the same person who’d been giving me roses all day.

  “Tim,” I whispered. I didn’t know what to make of it. Was it really him who’d been sending me all this stuff?

  The next morning, I asked him to pick me up and drive for me. That was when I confronted him.

  “Tim, have you been sending me stuff?” I asked directly.

  He looked uneasy for a while. “What kind of stuff?” he asked.

  “Uh, flowers…” I said awkwardly, suddenly unsure.

  “Flowers,” he repeated with an odd look on his face. “I’m not the type, Dr. Hill. Nope, it wasn’t me. You must have a secret admirer. And to think you’ve only been here for a few days!”

  “Yeah,” I said, not knowing whether to believe him or not. I was bound to catch him one of these days.