Sacking the Quarterback
Page 8
Jennings grumbled. “And that’s any different than the jumping, hollering, and screaming you do any day?”
Taylor punched his brother in the arm. She looked over at him and a question formed in her mind, one she didn’t know how to broach so she might as well just have at it. “Do you ever wonder what might have happened if your knee hadn’t blown out?”
Jennings stared at the screen and took a sip of beer. She sensed the answer wasn’t easy for him, and she wondered if she’d butted in where she didn’t belong.
“Of course I wonder. I was supposed to be out there with Rhett, snapping those balls for him. It was all I ever wanted to do. Make it to the big game.”
Taylor slipped a hand between the cushions of the couch and pulled out a file she’d brought along and hadn’t been sure she’d give it to him. She silently handed it to her brother.
“What’s this?” he asked as he took it from her.
“Now that Rhett helped me get a job with the Houston organization, I’m privy to new treatments to help sports injuries for the players. There’s a surgery out there that could potentially heal that knee of yours. And there’s also a physical therapist the team uses who they say is a miracle worker. She helped Dimano get back on the field in no time flat after his last injury, and it was twice as bad as what you did to your knee.”
Jennings opened the folder and peered inside. “But the knee works fine for me now. I might not be able to play football, but I can manage.”
“But what if you could play football again?” Taylor asked.
Jennings laughed. “I’m almost thirty and haven’t played in almost a decade. It’s too late for me.”
“You can do anything you set your mind to,” she said. “So it’s a long shot. You’re only twenty-eight. The Ravens’ center just retired at thirty-six. You still have time to live your dream, even if it’s only for a few years.”
Jennings looked over at her and back down at the folder. He closed it and smiled. “I love that you were thinking of me, but it’s just too late.”
Taylor nodded. She wouldn’t push him. Hopefully the seed she’d just planted would take root and he’d read about the surgery. And if he didn’t, she’d have to remember it was his life. Rhett had beaten that last bit into her head before he’d flown out for the game. Right after he’d loved her all night long to get her through the days without him. It wasn’t enough—her body was already screaming for his touch again. And she missed sleeping beside him in their bed. It had felt weird at first to have him there, but now it felt weird not to have him there.
The teams scrimmaged on the field and captured her attention away from her mind’s rambling. Excitement flowed through her. When the camera found Rhett, she smiled. After crossing every finger and toe, she wished him all the luck in the world. Her gridiron gladiator called the play, took the ball, and quickly threw a long pass at least sixty yards. Marshall, his intended receiver, snatched the ball out of the sky and pulled it in close to his body. As soon as his feet hit the turf, he spun and ran past three defenders to cross the line.
“Touchdown!” she screamed and jumped from the couch. Beer sloshed over her hand and wet her sleeve, but she didn’t care. She loved seeing her man in action. “Less than a minute into the game! He is amazing!”
“Yeah, you didn’t say that when he was playing on the other team.”
“He wasn’t mine when he was playing on the other team,” she shot back.
“You know, it looks good on you,” Jennings said.
“What’s that?”
“Love,” he said before taking a drink of his beer.
Taylor froze for a moment. Love? Was that what she felt? She thought about it for a moment, uncertainty swelling through her.
As soon as the camera found him again, he had his hand on his heart, which he patted twice before pointing to the camera. Her sign. She was smiling like an idiot at that point, so glad she’d sacked her quarterback.
Yeah, she loved him alright. And she planned to show him how much when he flew back home.
The End
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Alexandra recently turned the dreaded forty while her teenager legally became an adult—all in the same year. Those events have added more gray hairs into her head. She uses most of her writing income on bad dye jobs and wine. Mostly wine. (You should see her roots!)
Alex is a multi-published, bestselling erotic romance author, despite her bad hair. Or maybe because of it. When one doesn’t want to leave the house or wear a hat, one stays home and writes.
Published since 2009, Alex writes all over the genre map, be it Ménage, Paranormal, Historical, Contemporary, or Sci-Fi Erotic Romances.
You can find more about Alex at www.alexandraohurley.com.
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