Getting the DOWN (A Bad Boy Sports Romance)

by Daphne Loveling

  Eventually, the three of them get tired of yelling and start winding down.

  “So,” I ask. “Am I getting dropped from the team?”

  Coach Porter blinks at me speechlessly for a moment. I guess he was expecting a different reaction. “No,” he barks. “You’re not getting dropped. But you’re not gonna be the starting quarterback this season. Holton’s starting in your place.”

  He peers at me with a challenge in his eye. I guess he’s waiting for me to protest. And I should. It’s a shitty move, and I know they expect me to be enraged. But it’s fine. I know Steve Holton’s not half the QB I am. I’ll be starting again in no time. I just have to keep my nose clean for a while.

  “Fine,” I shrug.

  Jill’s eyes widen as she steals a glance at Bull.

  “And,” Bull growls, “Once the dust has settled a bit, you’re gonna pull your head out of your ass and do an exclusive interview with the paper. Throw yourself on the sword. Make a public apology.”

  “Okay.” I don’t know what they’ll want me to say, but I’ll say it. I really don’t care.

  “And under the circumstances,” Jill says, folding her arms disapprovingly across her chest, “You probably won’t be surprised to learn that the Give A Wish Foundation is terminating its relationship with you.”

  I’m totally not surprised, but the reference to the foundation kind of stabs me in the heart a little all the same, because of Rinn. “Did Marinda tell you that?” I can’t resist asking. I just want to hear any piece of information about her, no matter what it is.

  “No,” Jill smirks. “Rose Fowler called me directly to tell me. And by the way, apparently your antics cost Marinda her position as interim director. Rose is pissed that you screwed up so badly so soon after the charity gala. She said it was Marinda’s idea to have you be the master of ceremonies.”

  Shit. Shit. It never occurred to me for a second that my stupid bullshit last night would end up affecting Rinn. I sure as hell never thought it would cost her her job. I know how hard she works, and how much she wanted to get the position as permanent director. I can’t fucking believe my bad decisions took that away from her.

  “That’s completely fucking unfair!” I blurt out. “She had nothing to do with this!”

  “Your decisions don’t just affect you, Ryland.” Coach spits out. “I don’t get how you can’t get that through your fucking skull. Jesus, I’m fucking sick of your shit.” He stands abruptly, sending the office chair he’s sitting in skating back to slam against the wall. “We’re done here. Get out of my sight until practice.”

  Then he storms out of his own office, leaving me there with Jill and Bull.

  Jill sighs and gets up. “I’ll get to work on a way to spin this, and call Brian at the Daily about setting up an interview in a week or two.”

  Bull doesn’t say a word. He just shakes his head at me and follows her out.

  Leaving me alone for the second time in two days, ready to jump out of my skin, and no company except the thought of how badly I’ve fucked this up.

  I almost skip practice, but in the end I go. Word has already gotten around that Coach is dropping me form the starting lineup. I expect my teammates to give me shit about it, but most of them just seem pretty shocked, and steer clear of me like they’re expecting me to blow up. I keep my head down, don’t talk to anyone more than necessary, and work myself ragged until I’m exhausted and soaked in sweat.

  When practice is over, I take a long, hot shower, then drive back to my place. Yesterday, being by myself was the last thing I wanted. Today, I need some time alone, to sort through all the clamoring voices in my head.

  Yesterday, I was trying to run away from everything bearing down on me. Today, it’s time to turn around and face it.

  When I get home, I crack a beer and go out back to stare at the lake and think. I sit there for hours, barely moving, until the sun starts to go down and the rumbling in my stomach gets so loud I have to go inside and eat. I think about how badly I’ve fucked up Rinn’s life. How badly I’ve fucked up things between us. How badly I fucked up with Caitlynn.

  How stupid I am that a ten year-old kid with cancer knew more about life than I do.

  At one point, I take out my phone, and open it up to look at the picture I took of Rinn and me at the charity thing. We look happy together. Like a couple. The first time I looked at the photo, all I noticed was her, and how beautiful she was. But now, my eyes slide over to me, and for the first time, I notice the expression on my face.

  If I was someone else, looking at this picture, I’d know instantly that this guy is head over heels in love with this woman. Christ, it’s written all over his face. Instead of looking at the camera, he’s looking over at her, and there’s a tenderness in his eyes that is clearly just for her. That fucker is in awe of the woman next to him, and everything in his expression screams, “This woman is beautiful, and amazing, and I can’t get enough of her.”

  Which is goddamn true.

  And I can’t believe I didn’t see it until now.

  Eventually, I’m so hungry I get up and make myself a sandwich, and then come back outside to eat it and stare out at the water some more. It’s a beautiful night, and my thoughts drift to Caitlynn, who will never see another beautiful night again.

  “You should take pictures, and show me the next time you visit,” Caitlynn demands.

  “I will,” I nod.

  “Promise?”

  “You bet.”

  “You know,” she says softly. “You should tell her you like her. Because what if something happens, and you never got the chance to do it? And then you’d feel bad about it, like, forever.”

  Just like when she first said it, my throat tightens up at the memory, and before I know it I’m choking back a sob because I’ll never see Caitlynn again. I’ll always have to live with the fact that I broke my promise to show her the picture I took of Rinn and me. And I’ll never get to tell her she was right. She was right all along: If you don’t take the chance to do something when you can, you’ll feel bad about it forever.

  I’m sorry, Caitlynn, I think.

  And thank you.

  Chapter 27

  Marinda

  Late the next afternoon, just as I’m getting ready to leave work, Cara transfers a call to me from a number I don’t recognize. When I pick it up, a shaky male voice asks for Marinda Blake.

  “This is Marinda,” I answer.

  “Ms. Blake, this is Jeff Jacobson,” the voice says. “Caitlynn’s father.”

  “Oh! Hello, Mr. Jacobson.” My mind instantly calls up his face from the last time I saw him at Southshore Hospital. “What can I do for you?”

  “It’s…” His voice wavers. “I just, ah, wanted to tell you that Caitlynn passed away.”

  “Oh, Mr. Jacobson. I’m so, so sorry.” My stomach clenches. I didn’t know Caitlynn all that well, but I know the doctors were hoping she would beat the odds. “Please tell Mrs. Jacobson what a special little girl I thought Caitlynn was.”

  “Thank you,” he says, his voice cracking. “We thought so too.”

  I open my mouth to ask him if there’s anything the foundation can do to make things easier on them in the next few days, but he’s not finished talking. “Actually, the main reason I’m calling is that we wanted to tell Jake about Caitlynn, but we don’t have a number for him. He’s been so great about visiting her regularly, that we wanted to make sure he hears it from us, before he makes a trip to trip to the hospital and has to find out there.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say in confusion. “Jake’s been visiting Caitlynn regularly?”

  “Yes, at least once a week, usually more,” he replies. “They really got along well. His visits meant so much to her. I mean, I know he was doing it as part of Give A Wish, but he really went above and beyond for her.”

  “Mr. Jacobson,” I tell him, “I had no idea he was doing this. Believe me, beyond the first time he went to see Caitlynn, every other time was o
n his initiative alone.”

  “Oh. Oh, wow.” For a second, there’s silence on the line. When he starts speaking again, I can tell he’s crying. “That’s, ah. That really means a lot to hear.” His breathing hitches as he tries to control his sobs, but he’s not managing very well. “Can… can you please tell Jake for us? And tell him thank you, for… for everything?”

  “Yes,” I say, as tears fill my eyes. “I will. And again, I’m so sorry, Mr. Jacobson.”

  There’s a soft click as he ends the call. I put my head in my hands and just let myself cry. I’m still angry at Jake — furious, in fact. But on this one thing, I’m glad he’s proven me wrong. I’m glad to know that he genuinely cared about Caitlynn, that he wasn’t just visiting her because he had to. I think back to the gala, to the speech he gave, and how he went off script. How, in that moment, I knew that he was speaking from the heart.

  I don’t know how to reconcile that Jake Ryland with the other ones I know. It’s like there’s a missing piece of the puzzle, some part of the picture that could make sense of how all the other pieces fit together: the cocky football star, the kind-hearted champion of sick children, and the man who wanted to meet my family but got angry when I asked about his. As I sit there, waiting for my tears to stop falling, I tell myself that I’m sick of trying to understand him. And anyway, it’s all over. Rose has told me that the foundation is severing its relationship with Jake, and that she’s already told the team this. After I do this last thing and tell him Caitlynn’s gone, I’ll never have to see or talk to him again.

  By the time I leave my office, everyone else has gone home for the day, so thankfully I don’t have to explain my red nose or my puffy eyes. I haven’t called Jake yet to tell him about Caitlynn, but I tell myself I’ll figure out how to do that once I get home and have some time to think.

  The sky has grown overcast, and it’s looking like it might rain later. I’m still feeling shaky, so instead of taking the freeway, I decide to drive home through the city. I pass through neighborhood after neighborhood, watching people as they get home from work, and children as they play in the streets. Somehow, I’m comforted by seeing life go on, in spite of everything.

  Just as I turn onto my street, the first large plops of rain begin to hit my windshield. Instead of turning on the wipers, I let them run down the glass, and peer between them as I drive. I pull into my driveway and cut the engine. The drops are starting to hit faster now, and I know if I don’t make a dash for it I’ll get soaked. So I grab my purse, hold it over my head, and fling the car door open, then make a beeline for the house.

  And almost run over Jake, who’s sitting on my stoop.

  Chapter 28

  Jake

  I think the fact that we’re both starting to get soaked is the only reason Rinn decides to let me inside.

  “What are you doing here?” she asks flatly once we’re standing inside her entryway. Judging by her clothes, she’s just getting home from work. Her face looks swollen and kind of red, like maybe she’s been crying.

  “I was hoping I could talk to you for a minute,” I tell her. I wonder what’s happened to make her so upset, and have to resist the urge to reach up and touch her face.

  “You could have just called,” she mutters angrily.

  She doesn’t want me here. Everything about her body language says it, from the stiffness in her arms to the way her eyes won’t meet mine.

  I can’t blame her.

  “I’m sorry,” I say gently. “I wanted to do this in person.”

  “Do what?” She frowns, still not looking at me.

  “Can we sit down?” I ask her. “Please?”

  “I heard you got the director position taken away from you,” I tell her. “And I know it’s my fault.”

  We’re sitting on her living room couch. Hostility is fairly radiating off her, but I can’t think about that now.

  “Yes,” she nods. “You’re right. It is your fault.” Her arms are crossed defensively in front of her.

  “I’m sorry, Rinn. I’m so, so sorry. I know I can never make that right.” I sigh. “But I owe you more than an apology. I owe you an explanation.”

  She snorts. “It’s no use, Jake. There’s nothing you can say that will excuse what you did.”

  “I don’t want to give you an excuse, Rinn.” I say quietly. “I know there’s no excuse. But I do owe you the reason. Because it’s the same reason I was such a jackass coming home from your parents’ house last weekend.”

  Finally, her eyes flick briefly to mine. With a deep sigh, she shakes her head in resignation. “Fine. Tell me what you want to tell me.”

  Thank God. At least she’ll listen. At least I have a shot now.

  “Caitlynn Jacobson,” I begin. “She died three days ago.”

  Rinn looks at me for real now. She frowns, surprised. “You know?”

  “Yeah.” I look down at my hands. “I went to the hospital to see her and they’d cleared her room. They told me at the nursing station that she was gone.”

  “Caitlynn’s dad called to tell me this afternoon,” she says softly. “He said they wanted to let you know themselves, so you wouldn’t find out like that.”

  “Oh.” My lungs feel tight, like I can’t breathe for a second. It means a hell of a lot to me that Caitlynn’s parents would think to do that, especially with all the pain they must be in right now.

  “I didn’t know you were visiting Caitlynn regularly.” She’s still guarded, but her eyes are filled with unanswered questions.

  I shrug. “I guess… I dunno, I guess it never occurred to me to say anything about it. I didn’t really plan to do it. I just started going over there a couple times a week, whenever I had some time after a practice.”

  “That was really nice of you, Jake,” she murmurs. “You didn’t have to do that. I know it meant a lot to the family. I could hear it in Jeff’s voice.”

  “There was just something about that kid,” I reply, and chuckle sadly. “She was really something else. I ended up getting way more attached than I thought I was. And then, when I went to the hospital that day, and they told me she was gone… I guess I just lost it, a little.”

  Rinn’s eyes widen in sudden comprehension. “Is that what made you go out with your friends that night and get in that fight?”

  “Yeah,” I admit. “It was stupid as hell, I know. But I just couldn’t deal with it when I heard about Caitlynn. I dunno… I just sort of went off the deep end.”

  Then, I take a deep breath and let it out. It’s time to tell her everything.

  “See, I had a little brother. Jamie. Well, you know that,” I say, glancing at her ruefully. “I already told you he died when we were kids. But what I didn’t tell you is how he died.”

  So, I tell her. I tell her about what a shitty older brother I was, and how Jamie used to worship me. I tell her about the day I made him chase after a ball I threw way too high on purpose, and how he ran out into the street to get it, and got hit by a car. I tell her about visiting him in the hospital and watching him as he got worse instead of better. How quiet it was in the house without him in it. How the grief and pain never left my parents’ faces after he died. And how it was only after he was dead that I realized how much I loved him and missed him. And that it would always be my fault that he was gone.

  My hands are shaking, but I get through it, and when I’m finished, Rinn’s looking at me with tears streaming down her face.

  “That’s why I didn’t want to do the Give A Wish thing at first,” I explain. “The thought of having to be around sick kids every day, to know they were probably dying… I was afraid it would be like living through Jamie’s death all over again. That’s why I choked that first day, when we went to see Jacob. He reminded me of my little brother. I just… all of a sudden, I just couldn’t be in the room anymore.”

  “Jake,” Rinn breathes, and puts a hand on my arm. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

  “So yeah,” I laugh raggedly. “An
d then, Caitlynn kind of snuck up on me.” I shake my head and swear softly. “I really liked that kid, you know? She kept me on my toes. And now she’s gone. And I never got to say goodbye.”

  “That’s part of the responsibility of helping sick kids,” Rinn sighs. She squeezes my forearm. “Part of what we owe to them is to stay strong for them. Even when we know it’s going to tear us apart, we stay with them.” Her eyes are shining as she looks at me. “It’s okay that you never got to say goodbye, Jake. The important thing is how much you did for her when she was still here. How much you enriched her life. How much joy you brought her.”

  I take out my phone, then, and pull up the picture of Rinn and me that I took at the gala.

  “I took this for Caitlynn,” I tell her. “She asked me to take a picture of the two of us, so I could show it to her the next time I saw her.”

  Rinn, looks at the picture with a sad smile, and then up at me with a frown. “Why did she want to see a picture of us?”

  My voice starts to rasp, and I clear my throat. “She wanted to see the woman I’m in love with.”

  Chapter 29

  Marinda

  “In…”

  I can’t go any further. I try to repeat what he just said — what I think he just said — but the words get stuck in my throat.

  “Yes. In love. I’m in love with you, Rinn.” His hand comes up to cup my chin, his thumb gently stroking my jaw. “And if it wasn’t for a ten year-old girl who was smarter than any kid that age has a right to be, I might not ever have figured it out.”

  Then, impossibly soft and slow, his lips brush against mine. I’m so stunned that it all feels like a dream I’m having, so much so that I actually consider pinching myself to see if I’ll wake up. I never believed anyone actually did that, but now I can see why.