Sack: Eligible Receivers

by Sarah Curtis

  “This is me hanging on.” He opened his eyes again to look at her. “And this time I’m not letting go. I love you, Ivy.”

  He meant that. With the conviction she saw when she stared into his eyes, she knew without a doubt he meant that. So, it was the easiest thing in the world to say, “I love you, Colt.”

  And mean it, too.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Colt

  Colt stared at the painting on the easel. Ivy’s school was having an open house of sorts, and she’d invited him, wanting to share that part of her life.

  He’d wanted that too. But now, staring at the empty field with the harsh glow of painted lights illuminating it, and the sickness it brought to his stomach, he wasn’t so sure. He hadn’t thought he could feel worse about himself.

  He’d been wrong.

  “I really hurt you, didn’t I.”

  Ivy stood beside him. She pulled her eyes from the painting to look at him. “Yes.”

  “I think, all along, I subconsciously knew you were the one, but I was too stubbornly set on my mission and so stuck in my head, I didn’t see it. I blurred the lines with you—treated you like a girlfriend with one hand while pushing you away with the other. No wonder you left me.”

  She placed a hand on his arm. “You confused me. And for my well-being, I had to.”

  “I know.” He turned to her, cupping her neck, and running a thumb along her jaw. “I see it now.” He stared into her beautiful gray eyes. Eyes that he knew shed tears over him. “I’m so damn sorry. Not just for pushing you away but for hurting you. I never wanted that.” He dropped his forehead to hers and closed his eyes. Then in a gruff voice, he whispered, “The last thing I ever wanted was to hurt you.”

  Her fingers trailed up his neck to tangle with the short hairs at the back of his head. “We can’t change the past. And I wouldn’t want to. To give up the bad parts, I’d have to give up the good. And there’s not one minute of being with you that I want to forget. But the past is the past, and now it’s time to move forward. I love you, and you love me. That’s all that matters.”

  He kissed her tenderly on the forehead, wrapped an arm around her shoulders and turned them to once more look at her painting.

  Ivy might forgive him, but it would be a long time before he forgave himself.

  “Are you nervous?”

  Ivy looked at him raising her brows. “Why do you ask?”

  Colt reached over and took her hand. “You’re fidgeting.”

  She quirked her lips. “Maybe a little. It’s not every day a girl meets her boyfriend’s parents.”

  Colt turned off the engine and unclipped his belt, but he didn’t make a move to get out of the car.

  It had been a crazy couple of weeks but in a good way. The team had been practicing just as much if not more but instead of going home and calling Ivy, he got her in the flesh. He discovered he didn’t have to sacrifice one to have the other. She was his biggest cheerleader, and hell if that didn’t make him try all the harder.

  He’d been a fool in more ways than one.

  And now it was the night before the big game. The game he’d been trying to reach his entire career. But instead of being locked in his head, mad at the world, thinking that was the only mentality he needed to win, he was relaxed and focused, knowing that whatever happened he would still be a winner as long as he had Ivy at his side.

  He reached over the console and took her hand again, squeezing it. “They’re going to love you.”

  “What makes you so sure?” Her eyes were filled with concern.

  His Ivy was not one to care much about what others thought. He loved that about her. Being in the limelight, having to be mindful of everything he did and said, it was also something he envied. “Because they’ll see how much you mean to me and that will be reason enough.”

  Determination replaced the concern in her expression as she stared out the windshield at the Italian restaurant they’d chosen for dinner. “Okay, I’m ready. Let’s do this.”

  “Um, there’s something I need to tell you before we go in.”

  Her head whipped around. “There’s more? I just psyched myself up.”

  Colt raised a placating hand. “Nothing bad for you. I promise. You see,” he paused, taking a breath and bit the bullet. “My dad’s name is Percival.”

  It took her a second, but he saw when it clicked. “The P! You’re named after your father?”

  “And his father before him. I’m Percival Colton the third.”

  A slow smile transformed her lips. “So, can I call you Percy?”

  “Not if you want me to answer.”

  “Fair enough.” She paused, and then said, “You know, if it makes you feel any better, if we ever got married—”

  “When.”

  “What?”

  “When, not if.” That was a clarification he wanted out in the open.

  “That’s still up for debate.”

  He placed a hand to his heart. “You wound me.”

  Ivy rolled her eyes. “If we ever got married, your secret would’ve been revealed anyway.”

  “Just promise we can stop the madness. When we have a son—”

  “If.”

  “When.”

  “What if we have all girls?”

  The image of a gaggle of blond-haired, gray-eyed girls running around the house, quoting trivia, and sassing him had him smiling. The image did not suck. “Okay, I’ll give you that one. If we have a boy, he will not be Percival Colton the fourth.”

  “This is a very weird conversation even for me.”

  “I fucking love this conversation.”

  She tilted her head to the side. “Why?”

  “Because the fact we’re even having it means you’re thinking about marrying me and having my babies.”

  “Hmmm.”

  “Is that a good hmmm or a bad hmmm?” Because though Ivy may think they were joking, the seed had been planted, and he was going to water the shit out of it until it became a reality.

  “It means, you made a good point, and I’m not sure I like it.”

  He grinned and kissed the top of her hand.

  He spotted his parents walking into the restaurant and opened the car door. “Ready?”

  “As I’ll ever be.”

  Colt had not lied. By the end of their dinner, his parents loved her.

  “Feels like old times,” Colt said into the phone. It was killing him, being alone in his bed, knowing Ivy was just a few floors down in hers. But it was the rules. He was just happy he didn’t have a roommate. Even with the team having their own floor, with the hundred-and-fifty-plus people they traveled with—including players, coaches, executives, trainers, managers, video staff, and medical staff—not everyone was as lucky.

  “Is it crazy I miss you even though I was just with you less than an hour ago?”

  He knew the feeling. Though they hadn’t been back together long, it was long enough for him to grow accustomed to having her wrapped in his arms all night. He stared at the cold, empty space beside him. “If it’s crazy then you have a partner in insanity to join you in the loony bin.”

  Her raspy chuckle filled his ear, and he closed his eyes, sinking back into his pillow, savoring it. “Well, I better let you go. You need your beauty sleep for all those pictures they’ll be taking when you’re a Super Bowl champ.”

  “No. Don’t hang up. If I can’t have you beside me, this is the next best thing. I want to fall asleep to your breathing.”

  “That’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me. Slightly creepy, but romantic.”

  He rolled to his side, tucking his phone between the pillow and his ear. “Go to sleep, Ivy.” But he’d said it with a smile.

  “Sweet dreams.”

  “With you in my life, nothing but.”

  “I’ve changed my mind, that’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said.”

  “Well get ready because I have the next fifty-plus years to top myse
lf.”

  She was silent so long, he’d thought she’d fallen asleep. But then in the darkness with the silence of the room surrounding him, she whispered, “Colt?”

  “Yeah, baby?”

  “I’ve changed my mind again.”

  He fell asleep with a smile on his face and dreamed of Ivy.

  Ivy

  Heart pounding, clutching Colt’s mom’s hand on one side and Emerson’s on the other, Ivy didn’t move her gaze from the field. More specifically, from Colt as he lined up behind the center. There was less than a minute left in the game and the Phantoms were down by three. They just needed to get close enough to kick a field goal to tie the game. She’d seriously never been more nervous in her life. Her heart was pounding so hard she expected it to burst from her chest at any moment, and she was feeling a little nauseous. She could only imagine how Colt was feeling at the moment.

  She didn’t get a chance to see Colt that morning—the team had been up and out of the hotel before she’d even woken up—but she did text him good luck. She’d just wished she’d thought to say it the night before.

  And she might also feel the tiniest bit guilty she’d spent the day exploring the city with Emerson while he was stuck doing who knew what to prepare for the game but made herself feel better by rationalizing that he probably would’ve hated all the shopping they’d done.

  With the black sky as a backdrop and the stadium lights shining on the field, she was reminded of the picture she’d painted. She’d been wrong. A field was happiest with players running across its turf and spectators in the stands cheering them on. She wouldn’t change her painting. Colt had loved it and had given it the spot above the fireplace. But she would paint another—its counterpart—and she’d paint exactly what she saw now. Two teams locked in battle each determined to win.

  Football in all its beauty.

  The ball was snapped, and Ivy didn’t take her eyes off Colt. It was third down, but they only needed a few more yards to be in field goal range. If Colt could just keep from getting sacked, she knew they could do it.

  She watched as he maneuvered around the pocket, dodging the defense until his offensive line could come to the rescue. He let the ball fly. Ivy got to her feet, Emerson plastered to her side, clutching her hand so tight she was sure to lose circulation. But who needed a hand when she figured she’d die from a heart attack anyway.

  Because Colt didn’t just throw the ball to one of his close teammates to gain a few yards. No, he had aimed for the end zone.

  Breath held. Heart beating a hole through her chest. Ivy didn’t dare take her eyes off the ball as it sailed. It arced high into the air, spinning as it made its dive.

  Falling.

  Falling.

  To land perfectly into the hands of Lincoln Scott.

  The crowd went wild. Emerson screamed in her ear. Ivy’s eyes flew back to Colt.

  And she grinned.

  Because even surrounded by his team, getting slaps on the back, she could see he grinned, too.

  His head tilted as he searched the spot in the stands where he knew she was sitting and by some miracle, their eyes locked. She blew him a kiss. He made a production of catching it and bringing his closed fist to pound into his chest.

  Lame?

  Not even close. That had just made the top of her Colt being romantic list.

  And when he stood on the podium, holding the trophy aloft, he outdid himself one more time.

  “This is for my Ivy. With her by my side, I’ve learned that anything is possible.”

  Ivy wasn’t sure how he would top himself in the next fifty years…

  But she couldn’t wait to find out.

  Epilogue

  Colt

  “We did it.” Colt knelt by the grave and dusted off the brass plaque that lay flush with the ground. “Wish you would’ve been there to see it.”

  He dug two fingers into the earth, creating a hole, and pulled the ring from his pocket. He fingered the diamond-encrusted football at its center and then the words World Champions before dropping the ring into the hole and filling it back up.

  Laying a splayed hand back over the plaque, he bowed his head. “Rest in peace.”

  A hand landed on his shoulder and he looked up into Ivy’s beautiful grays. “You’ll finally find some now, too.”

  Ivy

  “I can’t believe you bought a ticket just to see me off at the gate.” Ivy plopped her carry-on on an empty seat. She was on her way to Comic-Con, and for the first time since she’d started going, she wasn’t over-the-moon, dancing-in-place, can’t-wait-to-get-there excited. She was just plain-old excited.

  “I had two reasons for that.” Colt took the seat next to her and grabbed her hand.

  She raised her brows. “Two?”

  “First, I didn’t want you waiting for your flight by yourself.”

  “I brought a book.” Ivy pulled a paperback out of the side pocket of her bag. “The Dresden Files. Harry Dresden is a super-hot wizard.”

  Colt snorted, “A pale substitute for me.”

  “Oh? Can you do magic all while wearing a sexy duster?”

  He leaned in close and growled, “I’ll show you magic.”

  Ivy laughed and pushed at his shoulder. “And reason number two?”

  “It guarantees the seat next to you on the plane will remain empty.”

  “You’re shameless.”

  He grinned. “Completely.”

  “Flight 165 to San Diego is now boarding at gate 9.”

  “That’s me.” Ivy stood, picking up her carry-on and slinging it over her shoulder.

  Colt snatched her hand. “Don’t forget to text me as soon as you land.”

  “I won’t.”

  “I’m going to miss you.”

  She stepped in close, wrapping her arms around his waist. “I’m going to miss you, more.”

  “Impossible.”

  “Whatever will you do with yourself while I’m gone?”

  His hand cupped her neck, his thumb tracing her jaw. “Mope around the house until you come home.”

  She tipped her head back and laughed. “Good answer.”

  He leaned down and kissed her smiling lips.

  Ivy looked over her shoulder and saw the line was almost at an end. “I better go.”

  He gave her one last kiss before stepping back. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  She got into line, and after handing her boarding pass to the attendant, looked back. Colt was still in the same spot, watching her. She gave him a wave before turning to make the long walk down the passenger boarding bridge.

  “If one of us doesn’t win this year, I’m filing a formal complaint.” Crystal eyed them each in the mirror.

  “Agreed.” That came from Jessica.

  Ivy fastened the hammered-tin choker around her neck that went with the award ceremony dress she had on that Leia wore at the end of A New Hope. “I triple agree.”

  “Hey,” Tina said, craning her head around Jessica to look at Ivy. “Why aren’t you wearing the bikini outfit? You always wear it for the costume contest.”

  Ivy felt her cheeks heat and hid it by reaching for the blusher. “And I never win, do I?” She swiped the blush brush across her cheek. “I thought I’d switch it up.” She didn’t want to tell her friends that Colt had forbidden her from wearing it. She’d tried to argue but lost when he’d pointed out he was her boyfriend and therefore had the right.

  Crystal smirked at her through the mirror. “Colt told you you couldn’t wear it, didn’t he?”

  Ivy grimaced. “Pretty much.”

  “Well, I for one think what you have on now is much better,” Tina said.

  Ivy grabbed the skirt of the dress and swished it. “Thanks.” She did feel pretty in it.

  “And it’s perfect,” Jessica said.

  Ivy frowned at her through the mirror. “Why is it perfect?”

  Her eyes got big, and she glanced at her other two friends.


  Ivy’s frown deepened.

  “Oh, no reason really. Just white looks good on you, so you’re sure to win.”

  “Speaking of which,” Crystal said maybe a little too loudly. “We better go so we’re not late.”

  Ivy forgot about the bizarre conversation by the time they reached the convention center and was swept away by the festivities.

  Tina came up to her side and hugged her arm. “Look!” she said, pointing. “There’s a Han Solo for you to take a picture with.”

  There were a lot of people dressed in Star Wars costumes. Ivy wasn’t sure why Tina was singling that one guy out. “I don’t want to take—” Wait. Hang on. She recognized the back of that head.

  And then the guy turned around and Ivy caught her breath. Like the Red Sea parting, people fell back as he made his way to her. He stopped when he reached her, holding out his hand.

  In a daze, she placed her hand in his. “I can’t believe you’re here. And dressed,” she waved a hand at him, “as Han Solo.”

  And then still gripping her hand, he got down on one knee. “Princess Leia, AKA Ivy Clark, will you marry me?”

  Her hand flew to her mouth as tears filled her eyes. Too choked up to speak, she nodded vigorously.

  Colt smirked. “Is that a yes?”

  Uncovering her mouth, she swallowed the lump and got out a warbled, “Yes.” Then a more powerful, “Yes. Yes!”

  Amid the crowd cheering—Jessica, Tina, and Crystal the loudest of all—Colt pulled out a ring and slipped it on her finger. Then he stood and pulled her into his arms.

  She beamed up at him. “I love you.”

  He smiled back. “I know.”

  Coincidence or Fate?

  I’m a lover of romance. I read it, write it, live it. And because of that, I tend to believe in fate.

  This is no joke or exaggeration. I had just written the last line of Sack. I even still had a smile on my face—which all you Star Wars lovers I hope had one too—when I got this text from my daughter.