Sack: Eligible Receivers

by Sarah Curtis

  She didn’t end up needing to. A few minutes later, Emerson plopped into the vacant seat beside her, handing over a soda. “Sorry I’m late. The concession line was a killer.”

  “Thanks.” Ivy stuck the cup in the chair’s holder. “You should’ve waited until after the game started.”

  “I know, but call me lazy, I didn’t feel like walking back up a gazillion steps once I got down here.”

  Emerson was anything but lazy, but, looking over her shoulder at the long way up, she couldn’t help but agree.

  “You made it before kickoff. That’s all that matters. I was starting to worry Matt hadn’t made it in to cover for you and you wouldn’t show.”

  “I wouldn’t leave you hanging to watch the game all by your lonesome.”

  Lonesome. The story of Ivy’s life lately.

  “What was that look for?” Emerson was eyeing her, a concerned expression on her face.

  “I had a look?”

  “Yes. It was a sad look. Spill.”

  Ivy sighed. “I’m thinking of calling things off with Colt.”

  “What?” Emerson sounded shocked. “You guys have been together longer than Oz and me.”

  “That’s the problem. We’re not together. If I knew we had a future, I wouldn’t mind not seeing him for a week or even weeks at a time. If we were in a relationship, I’d know that it would eventually progress. We’d move in together, maybe even get married. Then I’d see him all the time. But we’re just friends who have sex, and with the way we’ve been bickering lately, I’m not sure we’re even friends anymore.”

  “So, you’d rather not see him at all?”

  “For my well-being, I think it’s something I need to do.”

  “I’m here if you need me. I might be busy as hell, but my shoulder is always available to cry on.”

  “I appreciate that. I care for Colt, but I walked into this knowing what I was getting. I knew it wouldn’t last forever. I’ll be okay.”

  And Ivy would keep telling herself that until she believed it was true.

  The noise from the crowd was deafening as Ivy watched Colt line up behind the center. It was the fourth quarter with only seven minutes left on the clock and the Phantoms were up by seventeen points, making Ivy breathe easy. It looked like the Phantoms would win unless by some miracle the opposing team scored two touchdowns and a field goal. And even then, they would only tie the game. They’d need a two-point conversion to win. And while she knew that must be possible, in all the weeks she’d been watching, she’d never seen one accomplished, so she still felt positive about the outcome of the game.

  A win today would make the Phantoms zero and eleven and Colt would keep his good mood.

  Ivy’s phone dinged, and she looked down to see a text from her mom wanting to finalize plans for Thanksgiving. She was just about to text back when she heard a collective gasp from the fans. Her head popped up, eyes flying to the field. “What did I miss?”

  “Colt just got sacked.”

  Ivy cringed as she watched the instant replay on the jumbotron. She hated seeing Colt at the bottom of a dogpile. It made her stomach feel sick every damn time.

  Ivy’s eyes never left the screen as three opposing players stood, revealing Colt, lying on the ground, not moving. A couple of coaches from the sideline ran onto the field.

  “Shit, I hope he’s okay.”

  Her heart in her throat, Ivy couldn’t respond to Emerson’s comment.

  The camera angle changed, and Ivy breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Colt sit up, but he still wasn’t getting up. The two coaches grabbed him under the arms and helped him stand. The crowd cheered as he was helped off the field, but Ivy wasn’t as gleeful. He was hopping, one leg bent at the knee to keep it from touching the ground. He might not be grievously injured but something was wrong.

  Her gaze stayed glued on Colt as he was loaded onto a cart and driven away.

  “I’m sure he’s fine,” Emerson said.

  But Ivy knew better. Something major had just happened if Colt was too injured to play.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Colt

  “The good news is it’s not broken.”

  Colt sat on a stainless-steel table in the medical office adjacent to the locker room, having just had his ankle x-rayed. He eyed the team’s orthopedist. “And the bad news?”

  “I can’t be certain without an MRI, but with the amount of swelling, I’d guess it’s a grade two sprain with a partial ligament tear. You’ll be out for two to four weeks depending on how fast you heal.”

  Colt’s jaw locked. Fucking perfect. Though the outcome could have been worse if he’d broken something. But it could have been a hell of a lot better if he’d just twisted the damn thing.

  “Let me wrap it and get you a boot. You’ll need to stay off it and elevate and ice as much as possible if you want a fast recovery time.”

  Colt would keep his ass in bed twenty-four seven if that’s what it took to get him back out on the field sooner rather than later.

  He was just getting fitted for a boot when he heard hoots and hollers from the locker room.

  “Sounds like we won,” Dr. Pierce said, adjusting the last Velcro strap. He slapped Colt’s knee. “You’re still going to need crutches, but this will protect the ankle.”

  “What’s the prognosis, Doc?” Cress materialized in the doorway.

  “Two to four weeks,” Pierce said, knowing Coach didn’t want an injury but a recovery update.

  Colt saw Oz come up behind Cress, his size making it impossible for him to fit through the door with their Coach blocking half of it. “How are you feeling?”

  Colt swung his good foot to the floor and put all his weight on it, keeping hold of the table for support. “I’ll live.” He grabbed the crutches Pierce handed him. “I need to change.” He also needed to call Ivy. She hated seeing him tackled on the field and could only imagine how worried she’d been at seeing him carted off.

  He hobbled to his locker and retrieved his phone before carefully planting his ass on the bench.

  “Colt. Thank goodness you called. I’ve been worried sick.”

  “I’m fine. Just a sprain, but I’ll be out for a couple of weeks.” He’d be back on the field in two if it killed him.

  “I’ll grab my car and pull it around to take you home. You can’t drive in your condition.”

  “I don’t want you to go through the trouble. Oz can do it.”

  “And is Oz going to stay and take care of you?”

  He barked a laugh. “God, I hope not.”

  “Then it’s settled. I’ll meet you at the locker room gate.”

  Colt supposed he would need some help the first day or so. “Okay. Thanks. I’ll call the guardhouse and let them know to put you through.”

  “Okay.” He was getting ready to disconnect when he heard her say, “Oh, and Colt?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m relieved you’re okay.”

  Ivy was waiting at the gate by the time Colt managed to shower, dress, and hobble out there. As soon as she spotted him, she got out of the car and came around to meet him.

  “Let me get that.” She grabbed the strap of his duffel.

  “I’ve got it, just open the back door.”

  “I was only trying to help.”

  He hated the hurt he heard in her tone and softened his voice. “I know, and I appreciate that, but for you to take the bag, I’d need to let go of the crutch, and to do that, I’d need something else to hold on to.”

  She eyed the strap of his bag and then the crutch. “Oh, right. I guess I didn’t think that through.” She went over and opened the rear door.

  News crews came out of the woodwork. Cameramen snapped pictures and reporters started firing off questions.

  “Get in the car,” he demanded.

  He fielded questions until he saw Ivy was safely behind the wheel, her door closed. He raised a hand, stopping the next reporter from speaking. “No more comments.”


  He carefully climbed into the passenger seat, almost catching a microphone in the door as he slammed it. “Get us out of here.”

  They were silent as she navigated her way through the stadium and got onto the highway. Colt tipped his head back and closed his eyes.

  “You tired?”

  “Yeah.” It was a little past ten and after being up since five that morning, he was exhausted.

  “You scared me, you know.”

  He rolled his head on the headrest and opened an eye. Ivy was concentrating on the road, but her brow was pinched, and her lips were compressed. “I know.”

  Still not glancing at him, she continued, “Those seconds when you didn’t move felt like an eternity.”

  Reaching over, he pried one of her hands off the steering wheel and entwined their fingers. “It’s a contact sport, people get hurt, but if it makes you feel any better, only one NFL player has ever died on the field and that was due to a heart condition, not an injury.”

  “But what about paralysis?” Finally, she glanced his way, and he hated the worry and fear he saw etched on her face.

  He squeezed her fingers. “Only a handful of players have ever been paralyzed and only one never walked again and that was all from the last century. Safety has come a long way. Our equipment is too well-engineered, and the number and speed and ability of our medical staff is too great to allow it to happen.”

  She glanced at him again, this time giving him a small smile. “That only makes me feel marginally better.”

  He wished he could think of something more to say to waylay her fears but marginally was better than nothing. He grunted as he repositioned himself in his seat. Ivy’s car was not made for big football players.

  “Are you in pain?”

  Shit, the worry was back in her tone again. “I get a few twinges here and there. I’ll take some Advil and ice it when I get home. I’m supposed to keep it elevated to help with the swelling, but I haven’t had a chance to follow doctor’s orders yet.”

  “We’ll solve that problem as soon as we get you home.” And then she asked, “They’re sure it’s not broken?”

  “X-Ray showed no break, but I’ll have an MRI tomorrow to make sure no ligaments snapped.”

  From the corner of his eye, he saw her flinch. “When I think of a sprained ankle, what comes to mind is when I fell down the stairs a few years ago and twisted mine. It was sore for a few days, tops. You guys take sprains to a whole new level.”

  “I’m just glad it’s not broken.” He adjusted himself again, this time careful to hide his wince. His ankle was throbbing, and the cramped quarters were not doing him any favors. “With our bye the week after next, if I’m lucky, I’ll only miss one game.”

  “Don’t go back too soon and risk permanent injury.”

  “What I don’t want to risk is our standings. We have a bit of a cushion since we have no losses but if I’m gone too long that could get shot to hell.”

  “You don’t know the team will lose the next few games.”

  “You’re right, I don’t. Skalitzky, our second-string quarterback, is good, but he’s not used to playing under stressful situations. I also have to take into account that my winning streak may not last. We have a three-game lead in our division. We need to stay number one to guarantee a spot in the playoffs.”

  “Then we need to concentrate on getting you better.”

  “That’s the plan—following doctor’s orders and staying off my foot.”

  “Then it’s a good thing you’ve got me.” She threw him a grin before turning her eyes back on the road.

  He tipped his head back and closed his eyes again. “You’re better than Oz any day of the week.”

  Ivy

  Ivy pulled into Colt’s driveway, turned off the engine, and turned to her sleeping passenger. He looked so peaceful, she hated to wake him. His body, always a powerful force of energy, was relaxed in slumber as was his expression. His features were softened, giving him a boyish quality he never displayed while awake and the stress of his world weighed on his shoulders. She’d love to be able to take that stress away, but he was a man on a mission. And until he accomplished his goal, he would never find peace.

  She just wished she knew what drove him so hard. Maybe then she would understand. But as things stood, she knew he would never make room for her in his life. At least not the kind she was growing to need. A fact, as she’d told Emerson earlier that day, she’d come to terms with over the past few weeks.

  She was too attached and knew as the next couple of months went on, with games becoming more and more important, it would only get worse. And what about when the season ended? Would she get attentive Colt back for a brief time only to have him ripped away again once the next season started?

  Rinse and repeat.

  She didn’t think she was up for more of that and knew her heart definitely wasn’t. It’d been hard enough to keep fooling herself into believing she didn’t love distant Colt. It would be damn near impossible to keep fooling herself once attentive Colt rejoined the program.

  Her mind was made up. She’d help him over this latest hurdle, and when he didn’t need her anymore, she was calling it quits. Maybe after a time they could be friends again, but for now she needed a clean break. A chance for her broken heart to mend.

  Not wanting to startle him from sleep, she laid a hand on his forearm, to wake him. “Colt.”

  His eyes snapped open, and he glanced around, disorientated.

  “You’re home.”

  He sat up straighter, wincing.

  “Come on, let’s get you inside and put that foot up.”

  Ivy got out of the car and around to his side first opening the rear door to grab his stuff before opening his to help him out. He was slow and a little awkward, but he managed to get out and situate himself on his crutches.

  “Are the keys to the house in your bag?”

  “Yeah. In the side pocket.”

  It was slow going into the house, but she soon got him set up on the couch, his foot resting on the coffee table.

  “Let me get you some ice.”

  He leaned his head against the back of the sofa. “I’m sorry to put you through so much trouble.”

  “Don’t worry about that. Just concentrate on getting better. Besides, the more I do for you now, the less time I’ll have to do it for.”

  He chuckled as she intended. “True.”

  “Plus,” she raised her voice as she made her way to the kitchen. “I finally have you right where I want you, at my complete and total mercy.”

  “Where every woman wants a man to be?” He shouted.

  “Exactly.” She returned, holding out an ice pack she’d found in the freezer.

  “Are you hungry? Can I make you something to eat?”

  He shook his head. “If you can just grab me some Advil and help me up to bed, I’ll be set for the night.”

  Ivy grabbed the bottle of pain reliever from the cupboard and water from the fridge. “I’m going to run these upstairs then come back down for you.”

  Colt was struggling to stand by the time she returned.

  “Here, let me help.” She took his arm and threw it over her shoulders then helped him keep balance as he hopped toward the stairs. “You can give me more of your weight. I’m stronger than I look.” They were taking the steps one hop at a time, his left hand gripping the banister, his other arm still wrapped around Ivy. “Your left leg is getting quite the workout. It’ll be stronger than your right once your ankle is healed.”

  Ivy was feeling the strain once they reached the top of the stairs. Colt was an athlete who spent a lot of time making his body what it was—pure muscle—and Ivy was feeling every heavy ounce of it.

  Colt sat on the edge of the bed and helped himself to the pain meds she’d set on the nightstand, swallowing them down with the water.

  Ivy glanced around the room. “Do you have any extra pillows?”

  “Just what’s on the bed.” />
  “I’ll get one from the couch.”

  Colt had the boot off by the time she got back. He’d also taken off his shirt. Even after all the times she’d seen him shirtless, it was hard not to stare. His sweats were riding low, showing off the cut, V-shape lines where his obliques met his transversalis muscles, and it was hard to pull her eyes away from such beauty.

  “You keep looking at me like that and my dick isn’t going to care that I’m injured.”

  “Sorry.” She mentally shook herself and moved her eyes to his ankle.

  There wasn’t much to see with the elastic bandage wrapped as it was, but the ankle did look swollen and the part of his foot that showed was black and blue.

  Holding one of the puffy cushions from the back of the couch, she walked over and placed it on the bed. “Here, put your foot on this.” She waited for him to tuck a few pillows behind his head and shoulders before asking, “Can I get you anything else?”

  “No. This is perfect, thank you.”

  “Okay, then I’m going to run home and grab some stuff. I’ll try not to be too long.”

  His eyes flew open. “No. Go in the morning. I don’t like you driving so late by yourself.”

  She could argue, but it was an easy enough concession. It was late and they were both tired and she did have a toothbrush in his bathroom. It was all she needed until morning.

  “Fine, but only because you asked so nicely.” She raised a brow, pursing her lips, letting him know she was giving in but doing so reluctantly.

  Colt smiled. “Thank you. I’m not in any condition to chase after you, so I appreciate it.”

  Ivy pulled one of Colt’s tees from the dresser drawer and slipped into the bathroom. She heard the TV click on while she was brushing her teeth. She expected to come out and find him watching one of the gazillion sports stations he subscribed to but was surprised to see he’d turned on a sitcom. She flicked the light switch off and climbed into bed, being careful not to jiggle him when she pulled the covers.

  “No game highlights?” She knew that’s all he ever watched anymore—sizing up the competition.