In the End Zone: A Sports Romance

by Nacole Mills

And with the next play, that's just what happened. The ball was snapped to Smythe, who launched it into the air, not at Larson, but at a different player, who ran it in for a touchdown! With the good kick from Mitchell, that made the score 21-14. Only one more and they would tie, two more and they would win.

  Levitt and his boys were up next, and sure enough, every time the ball was in play, it was going toward Levitt. The quarterback seemed too afraid to send it to anyone else, so when the Caimans crowded Levitt out, it was not long before the ball was back in Caiman hands. Morgan watched as Levitt screamed and shouted in anger, tossing helmets and even turning over a bench to vent his frustrations.

  The record was still tied. And Larson was up to play.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Morgan had never truly realized how much she loved to watch Brent Larson play football. She had watched him play many times, sometimes during a game, sometimes on television when he was out of town, and sometimes on the practice field. But no matter where it was, Morgan could get hypnotized watching him play.

  But now, more than ever, she knew the stakes that were involved. And so did he. Larson was running as though his life depended on it, and since they had played other players during the game, the Blue Kraits defense had given up on covering Larson the entire time. They seemed to scramble between him and a few others, which gave Larson the room to run as hard and as fast as he could.

  The Caimans had moved to the 20-yard line, close enough for Larson to bring it home one more time. Morgan clenched her jaw so hard that it ached as she watched Sam Smythe desperately try to launch the ball in Larson's direction. But the Blue Kraits seemed to read his mind and they covered Larson so heavily that the ball had no chance of getting to him. So, at the last moment, Smythe tucked the ball into his chest and darted toward the end zone.

  "Oh my god, GO SAM!" Morgan shouted, cheering on her quarterback.

  "Holy shit, he's going to do it," Max said behind her.

  The pair cheered together as Sam rushed the end zone, making a touchdown before the Blue Kraits even knew what hit them. and when Mitchell kicked another field goal, the score was officially tied up 21-21.

  The clock was winding down and Morgan knew that the Caimans had to get that ball back in order to win. And even more important, Brent Larson had to score another touchdown to beat Levitt. It seemed impossible as the Blue Kraits' offense caught the kickoff and began rushing toward their own end zone.

  Morgan watched helplessly as Levitt barreled through the field, until he was stopped by three defense players, all struggling to take him down. He was at the 60-yard line, which gave Morgan a sigh of relief. He was nowhere near his own end zone, nowhere near another record-breaking touchdown.

  Levitt sprung up and looked at Morgan. He laughed a horrible, jeering laugh and thrusted his hips at her. Morgan again tasted bile and she had to look away. Her eyes landed on her boyfriend, and Larson looked murderous.

  Four minutes left in the final quarter.

  Morgan felt a heavy hand on her shoulder. "If the Caimans lose," Max's docile tones rang in Morgan's ear, "You keep your head down and come with me. No questions. Do not leave with anyone else until we can get you secured."

  But Morgan only smiled. "Don’t worry, Max. They won’t lose."

  She watched as Levitt and his team worked themselves to the bone trying to run the ball, but they ended up going nowhere. The Caimans' defense was like a brick wall and Levitt could not tear it down no matter how hard he tried.

  The closer that the Blue Kraits grew toward their end zone, the more Morgan could feel herself tremble. She was suddenly very aware of her whole body. Her toes and fingertips were numb and shaking. Her arms left as though they were made of lead. And her gut felt twisted and bruised. Could he do it? Could Levitt actually win the bet? She made eye contact with the horrible man and he blew her a kiss, making Morgan's stomach seize up.

  The Blue Kraits set up their play, and soon the quarterback was launching the ball at full force toward Levitt. Morgan held her breath, but she could not tear her eyes away.

  Levitt reached out to catch the ball.

  But he dropped it.

  FUMBLE!

  Levitt stood there stupidly, looking at the ball as if he did not understand why it wasn’t in his hands. Meanwhile, the defense for the Caimans was springing into action, and one player dove for the ball, pulling it tight against his chest. It was a conversion! Caimans ball!

  Realizing what had happened, Levitt grew furious. The defensive lineman who had recovered the ball attempted to celebrate, but Levitt came at him, cussing a blue streak and spitting mad.

  "Oh my," Max rumbled over the celebration from the crowd, "I have never seen that boy that mad before."

  Morgan looked up at Max, but before she could comment, he just shook his head. "Larson better watch out."

  The referee separated Levitt and the Caimans players quickly, though Levitt’s anger was just short of actually fighting with fists. He begrudged went back to his bench, but Morgan knew that he would not be kept down for long.

  Larson and the rest of the offense ran back out onto the field at full sprint. The game was winding down and Morgan knew that they needed every last second of playing time. Smythe set up the play and soon they were in action, driving the ball fast and hard toward their end zone. All they needed was one more touchdown, and they needed Larson to do it.

  3rd down and 5. Morgan held her breath as Sam Smythe launched the worn, brown football across the field into Larson's waiting arms. Brent clutched the ball tight and he ran as though his life depended on it.

  "Go go go!" Morgan screamed along with the rest of the crowd.

  Brent was running fast, streaking along the far side of the field and running the length of the Blue Kraits bench. The field in front of him was free and clear and Morgan knew that this was his perfect shot. From there, he could run it out, score another point for the team, and effectively seal his record.

  Out of nowhere, a giant, hulking man with a bald head and angry red face appeared and he hurled himself on top of Brent Larson. Erik Levitt had jumped from the sidelines and tackled the Caimans' star running back, hitting him right in those sore, probably broken ribs.

  Levitt rose victorious. He stared down at Larson’s crumpled figure and began laughing in such a way that Morgan’s blood ran cold.

  Larson was not moving.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chaos reigned as players from both teams fought desperately to pull Erik Levitt away from his rival. Everyone from the benches had poured onto the field and most of them looked as though they could kill Erik Levitt where he stood. The coaches were all screaming, the refs were blowing whistles, and the crowd was roaring with anger. Morgan wondered if they would storm the field in protest.

  And all the while, Brent Larson laid on the ground, motionless.

  Somewhere deep within her, Morgan felt as though she was falling hard and fast. She had let out an ear-piercing scream when Brent went down, and at some point, she had dropped to her knees. Her security guard was there with her, but she barely heard the soothing words that he spoke in her ear. In fact, most of the noise ran together for her. All she knew was that her boyfriend, the love of her life, was laying on the open, grassy field, still.

  "It's okay, he will be okay," Max said as he rubbed Morgan's back.

  Morgan looked up at Max and she regarded his beautiful, chocolate face. "How do you know?"

  Max looked horrified at what had happened. "Because he has to be."

  Morgan looked back to the field just in time to see Erik Levitt being lead off the field and back to the locker rooms. "Good," a reporter near Morgan said, "He should be thrown out for that. I've never in my life seen something so terrible from a professional football player."

  The camerawoman agreed. "I can’t believe they let this game go on like this. This has been a bloodbath."

  The medics were crowding around Brent now, and Morgan could faintly see him stirring. As C
oach Boss removed Brent's helmet, Morgan saw his lips moving, and she knew that he was asking for her.

  Coach boss shook his head, then he waved over two guys who helped Brent to his feet. The stadium erupted with a thunderous applause as Brent made his way gingerly over to the bench, still being propped up on his feet.

  Brent looked over at her and he clutched his side as he sat. "Morgan," he said, his eyes never leaving hers.

  Morgan made her way to him, pushing past players that had gathered around Brent. He was clutching his side and his face was twisted with a paid that Morgan had never seen on him before.

  The medics fussed over Larson, buzzing around him like bothersome gnats. "I cannot clear you to play," one of them said sternly, "We warned you that you could aggravate this. I think we need to get you to the hospital."

  "No!" Larson protested with gritted teeth. "I'm going back out there."

  He tried to stand, but quickly fell back on to the bench. Morgan caught his arm and helped to ease him back down. "Brent, please!" she said, her voice full of worry, "You could really hurt yourself if you go back out there!"

  "Your ribs could be broken. You may have a concussion. If you take another hard blow like that, you could puncture your lung, or worse." The medics all looked on with concern. "You could do serious, permanent damage to your body."

  Brent looked up. His eyes looked from Morgan to the medics, and finally over to Coach Boss who had silently moved over to the group. "Coach... please..."

  Coach Boss's eyes narrowed as he looked Larson over. "Larson, there is 1:30 left in the game. We need a touchdown to win this." Morgan could not believe what she was hearing. "If I put you in, you get one shot at this. One shot, then I pull you and send you to the hospital right afterward."

  Brent nodded and he gingerly rose to his feet. Morgan watched as he bared his teeth and clenched his jaw, but none the less, he stood on his own two feet and stood up straight.

  "I am going in."

  Morgan cried out, begging Brent not to risk it. The medics all protested and even some of his fellow players tried to stand in his way. But Brent heard none of them. He pulled on his helmet and began jogging out to the field to meet the rest of the team.

  "He's back, folks! Larson's back in the game!" the announcer shouted. The crowd roared when they saw the number 93 jogging out to meet the rest of the offensive line. His replacement patted him on the back and ran off the field quickly.

  Morgan and Max stood with the rest of the Caimans and they watched silently. She glanced over at Coach Boss and saw him standing nearby with narrow eyes and a thin mouth. He spoke to no one and refused to look away from the play.

  "Blue 72! 72! Hike!"

  The ball was snapped back to Smythe, who began lining up the most important pass of his life. Morgan's eyes snapped on to the number 93 star running back for the Caimans. Brent Larson was off like a shot, running fast and hard down the field. He turned to look just as the ball left Smythe's hands.

  Morgan could not breath as the ball soared through the air. It seemed like time slowed down and every person in the stadium was quiet as they waited for the ball to reach Larson.

  The brown football curved beautifully in the air, landing squarely, securely in the arms of Brent Larson.

  A scream pierced the air, coming from behind the parted lips of Morgan McMinn. "GO, BABY!" she said, her voice cracking as she cheered on her love.

  Everyone in the stadium was cheering Larson on as he ran faster than he ever had in his life. Morgan's heart raced right along with Larson's legs, and he ran and ran. His face was pained, but Morgan saw the determination oozing out of his tanned skin. He would get that last touchdown, or he would collapse while doing it.

  But those hulking defensive linemen for the Blue Kraits were not ready to back down easily. They rushed at Larson, ready to take him down like an injured colt. Morgan's heart raced as she watched two players in blue jerseys bearing down on her lover.

  WHAM! Out of nowhere, one of the players was taken down by a Caiman. The blue and orange tangled together and fell to the soft green field. And just as the other was coming up to take Larson out for good, two more Caimans rushed the Blue Krait, and he was finished before he took another step.

  "Go, Brent! Go baby! Run!" Morgan's shouts rang along with everyone else's as she cheered hard for Larson. Every person in the stadium was on their feet, watching history be made.

  Larson found a burst of speed somewhere deep within him, and in seconds, he crossed into the end zone seconds before the end of the game.

  "TOUCHDOWN CAIMANS!" The announcers screamed into their mics.

  But the announcers were drowned out by the cacophony of noise echoing through the stadium. Every fan was on their feet, jumping, shouting, and cheering for the man who not only just set the record for most touchdowns in a season, but the man who single-handedly won the game for the Caimans against their arch rival.

  Morgan looked around as the players and coaches rushed the field, all ready to surround Larson with a bubble of cheers. Her eyes landed on the away team's bench and she was happy to see that every single player for the Blue Kraits were on their feet, clapping for Brent Larson and his team. Erik Levitt, who had been thrown out of the game long ago, was forgotten, and everyone was basking in Brent Larson's glory.

  "He did it! He did it! He did it!" Morgan squealed as she jumped up and down. She turned around and jumped on Max, wrapping her arms around his thick neck.

  Max laughed a deep, booming laugh. "No doubts, huh?"

  But Morgan said nothing back. She just laughed along with her security guard for the day, giving him a tight squeeze.

  Morgan jumped off of Max and all she wanted to do was find Brent. She looked out onto the field and all she saw was a seat of orange and gold. The fans had stormed the field not long after the players, and it seemed that everyone was celebrating as one big, happy family. She walked out with Max at her heels and she waded through the people, gently pushing through.

  "I see him," Max called out from high above her. He began guiding the way and both fans and players alike seemed to part in front of them.

  Morgan's heart began to race the farther along they traveled. She was desperate to be by Brent's side, to kiss him and wrap her arms around him and celebrate his amazing achievement. He did exactly what he told her that he would do. He would win, and he would win her.

  Max moved to the side and there, standing in front of her and propped up by Sam Smythe, was Brent Larson. His shaggy brown hair had fallen in his eyes, but he quickly pushed it away. A lop-sided grin played on his face, the same one that he had given her when they met for the first time in the locker room on her first day as an intern. His blue eyes began to twinkle when he saw her, and she knew that he had been looking for her, too.

  "Hey baby." Morgan could not believe how nonchalant he was.

  She did not respond. She ran for Brent and when she reached him, Sam stepped away. Morgan wrapped her arms around him, pressing her body against his, wanting nothing more than to be near him. He was hard and hot and dripping, but she did not care. She held him as tight as she could and she tipped her head up and kissed him full on the mouth.

  Their kiss was long and hard and Morgan could feel herself growing weak at the knees when Brent's tongue began playing with hers. The happiness and the primal need that they shared in that moment was unlike anything that Morgan had ever known.

  When they broke apart, Morgan heard the cheers around her, but they all seemed to fade. She knew of nothing but her and Brent and the way his body felt against hers.

  "I told you I would do it," Brent said with his classic lop-sided smile.

  Morgan pressed her forehead against his. "I never doubted you for a second."

  Epilogue

  Morgan stared at herself in the mirror and she could not believe how beautiful she looked. True, she had looked good before, but often she would get dressed in casual clothes, put on some lip gloss, and tie her long, wavy hair in a
messy bun high on her head. But tonight, she looked radiant.

  Hours before, Morgan had gotten her hair styled at a boutique in town that Sam Smythe's girlfriend had recommended. She turned to look at her hair from all sides and it took her breath away. Her long hair was piled high in an elaborate knot with little tendrils of curl coming down to frame her face. The boutique also did her makeup and nails, which made her face look like a work of art. Her eyes were darkly shadowed with just a little hint of navy blue at the corners. Her lips were painted a beautiful rose color. Her cheeks were contoured for the first time in her life. And her fingernails were long and manicured, not sporting a heavy, glossy coat of midnight blue.

  But it was her dress that she loved the most. Morgan's dress was a long, form-fitting black velvet gown that hung to every curve in her body. The neck was high and she accented it with a single necklace with a teardrop shaped diamond at the end. Her arms and shoulders were bare. The dress moved down her body as though it was painted on, coming to rest just above the floor. Underneath, she sported a pair of black heels, and if she was to tell the truth, she had been wearing them for weeks, trying to get comfortable walking in them.

  When Morgan put everything together, her reflection looked as though she had walked right off a page in a magazine.

  "Whoa, baby," Brent's voice fell gently on her ears from behind her, "You look amazing."

  Morgan turned to face Brent. He stood in the doorway, leaning on the side with his hands in his pockets, and he looked so good that it took Morgan's breath away. His hair that usually hung in his eyes was slicked back away from his face. He was freshly shaven and Morgan knew that if she touched his cheek, she would find it to be soft and smooth. But what took Morgan's breath away the most was that Brent had dressed himself in the sexiest black tux that Morgan had ever seen.

  "Not so bad yourself," she teased, making her way over to him.

  Brent walked over and wrapped an arm around Morgan's waist. "Mmm," he said as he curled one of her tendrils around his finger, "This is going to look amazing in the floor tonight."