by Layne Harper
He joins our conversation by standing between JT and me, forcing JT to remove his hand from my arm. “Good evening, Doctor Collins,” he says, shaking my father’s hand. My father smiles at Colin, knowing exactly what he is doing.
“Caroline, or should I say Doctor Collins, you wear that dress well, and by the way, that necklace is stunning,” he says, turning just enough towards me that he can compliment me and turn his back to JT without overt rudeness. Just the close proximity of our bodies is almost too much for me. I am vibrating for him. It takes every bit of willpower that I have not to reach out and grab his hand. I crave his touch in a primal way.
Although, I do hope that he doesn’t plan on crashing every conversation that I have tonight. I need distance from him if we are going to attempt to get through this night without alerting Sasha. I have to keep reminding myself that she did nothing wrong. She’s just a girl who also happened to fall for The Statement. It’s easy to do.
“Thank you, Colin. If you’ll excuse me,” I say to the group. “I need another glass of wine.”
As I turn to leave not bothering to wait for their response, Colin says from behind me, “I’ll join you.”
Well, so much for trying to avoid each other tonight.
“What are you doing?” I hiss when we are just out of earshot of JT and my father.
“Taking care of what’s mine,” he says as if it’s perfectly logical.
“JT just put his hand on my arm. He wasn’t trying to rape me. You are here with a date, Colin. I thought you were going to stay away from me,” I say with a smile on my face, feeling anything but happy.
I place my order at the bar, another glass of white wine. Then, to my complete surprise, Colin orders two fingers of scotch, on the rocks.
I look at him with complete shock. He grabs his drink and shoves a couple of dollars in the tip jar. He grabs my arm and leads me to a somewhat quiet corner. “I am having one, maybe two of these, to help get me through the night,” he says, holding up his glass. “I can’t fucking stand that every guy in the room watched you walk in and are hoping that they get to be the one to fuck you tonight. You look beyond hot in that dress. Did you try it on before you bought it? The slit is obscenely high. I’ll have to mention to Brad that I like you completely dressed in public,” he says while scanning me from head to toe. “Sasha is here, and I can’t touch you and that feels like not breathing. So, for my sanity, I would appreciate you not letting anyone else touch you because it makes me crazy.”
“Deal!” I agree. “But I would appreciate you not kissing her in front of me. Think that’s fair, Champ?”
“You know that I had to do that,” he seethes.
“All I know is that we have to stay away from each other for three more hours. Please, for the love of God, Colin, just go back to Sasha’s side and leave me alone. This is hard enough on me without your jealousy,” I plead.
He looks down at my chest and fingers the infinity necklace. “You are mine for infinity.”
“I love it, Colin. And I love your note even more,” I say, looking into his green lustful eyes. “I love you. I am yours for infinity,” I reassure him.
He smiles his statement half smile at me.
“Please go back to Sasha’s side and not make this night or the next few months any harder on her or me than it has to be,” I beg.
With that, he turns and walks away from me toward her. I walk the opposite direction begging my eyes to not find his for the rest of the night. I didn’t touch him for eight years. I can avoid him for three more hours.
I, fortunately, spot my dad visiting with a group of players. I recognize the majority of them. Two of the players I know are on Dad’s waiting list. I slide my business face on and walk over to the group.
All of a sudden, I am very greatly relieved that Brad went with the more conservative dress over the racy ivory one because the group of players stop talking and watch me with much appreciation in their eyes as I walk toward them.
My dad greets me, “Hey Caroline. Gentlemen! This is my daughter that I was telling you about. Doctor Caroline Collins. Her specialty is sports injuries also, and she graduated from Harvard Medical School.”
I smile politely at my admirers. The guys one by one introduce themselves. I then spend the rest of cocktail hour chatting with the group. I pass out my business card, and the two players that are on my dad’s waiting list tell me that they will be scheduling an appointment to see me. This really is great networking.
When the doors to the dining room open, everyone starts making their way to their assigned tables. My dad offers me his arm, and I gladly accept it. I mentally decide to slip my shoes off during dinner and give my aching feet a rest.
The room is filled with fifty tables, each seating ten people. There is a stage at the head of the room with a podium and a very large screen. Each table has a floral centerpiece with black and silver accents – the team colors that Clay wore most of his career.
Table One is front and center. My dad and I are the first to arrive and find that our names are printed on cards indicating where we should sit. I notice that I will be seated next to Brandon Booth. Brandon played center, protecting Clay for the last years of his career. Then it dawns on me, if Brandon is sitting at our table, will Colin be also? I say a quick prayer that Colin and Sasha are at a different table.
Apparently, God does not like cheaters because Colin and Sasha find their chairs, which are directly across the table from ours.
Sasha gives us her million dollar smile when she sits down. She really is prettier in person than she is on TV, and I didn’t think that was possible. “Hi! I’m Sasha Stone,” she greets us.
I speak first. I decide to go ahead and introduce Dad also and drop our doctor titles. “Nice to meet you Sasha. I’m Caroline Collins, and this is my father Jack Collins.”
Colin has the blandest look on his face. I quickly wonder how many more two finger scotch on the rocks that he’s had.
“Oh, Colin said that we would be sitting with you.” She beams. “Doctor Collins, Colin,” she stops and laughs at the sound of both of the names together before she continues, “Colin said that you did the surgery on his ankle when he was in college.”
So Colin knew that we would be sitting together? How convenient that he forgot to mention it. Sasha also knows our specialty so Colin must have told her a little bit about us.
All my father says is, “Yes. That’s how I met Colin.” I mentally thank him for not elaborating on the two years that he spent at holiday dinners.
I quickly change the subject and start asking Sasha about her show business job. Just like everyone in the industry she likes to talk about herself. I am thankful that I can just listen to her ramble about herself and politely nod or throw an occasional question in to make her think that I am interested. I glance at Colin. He is still stone faced. I reach up and gently finger my necklace. When he sees me touch it, he gives me a wink.
As Sasha is winding down, the other couples join us at our table. Brandon introduces himself and his lovely wife Bree. Brandon and Colin obviously know each other well because Brandon starts giving Colin a hard time about missing the golf outing this morning. Sasha’s face momentarily looks shocked, but she quickly pastes the smile back on. Colin must have forgotten to tell her that “Something came up.” I think, I know that look well, Sasha. I am reminded of the first team party that I went to with Colin at Quinn and Jennifer’s home. Everyone knew me, and I knew no one. Colin does a great job of forgetting to mention things. I make a mental note to remind him to knock it off if we have chance of making this work again.
The other couple is Clay and Janis’s minister and his wife. They seem to be a little out of sorts. I can tell that they are relieved when Clay and Janis take their seats at the table.
At the table directly next to us are Clay and Janis’ parents and the four kids that I met last night. All three boys are in tuxedos and little Marley is in a silver party dress. She keeps lookin
g at Colin, trying her best to get his attention without getting in trouble. Just seeing their family interaction last night, I am sure that all four kids have been well lectured about their behavior tonight.
“Colin,” I say. He looks at me, very surprised that I am speaking to him. “There is a little girl at the next table that is dying for your attention.”
“Thank you Doctor Collins,” he says and turns toward Marley.
Janis is watching like a hawk ready to pounce on Marley if she is out of line. Fortunately, Colin is able to pacify her and keep her out of trouble.
He says to Janis when he joins us back at the table, “Apparently, I owe Miss Marley a dance, and she reminded me about the guitar.”
Janis smiles and shakes her head. “Colin, that girl is crazy over you.”
Then, he says, looking my way, “In her defense, who isn’t crazy about me?”
My lower stomach floods with warmth. Apparently, I am. As Sasha is talking to the minister and his wife, she reaches over and places a hand affectionately on Colin’s arm. It’s such an innocent gesture that one makes with someone that they are intimately comfortable with.
Colin shoots me a panicked look. I know that he can’t brush her hand off, but it literally makes me sick to my stomach to see her touch him. I take a big chug of my wine and pray it will help calm me down. To my relief, she let’s go of him when the servers come to place our salads.
I barely eat mine. It’s not because it tastes bad. Actually, it is rather good for banquet food. Seeing Colin with someone else has ruined my appetite. When I couldn’t avoid seeing him play football or on a billboard, at least he wasn’t with another woman. I made sure to not click on any link that said, “See who Colin McKinney was dining with last night.” Here he was in front of me with someone who knows his body as well as I do. It’s killing me.
Fortunately, my salad plate is removed quickly so I don’t have to see the green lettuce for long. In synchronized service our dinner plates are set down in front of us. I talk myself into eating. I’ve had three glasses of wine. I know that I need something in my stomach so I can slow down the effects of the alcohol. I vow not to look up from my plate until I have taken two bites of everything.
Unfortunately, I look up as Sasha begins chatting privately with Colin and places her hand on his leg. He is interacting with her although I can tell that he only giving her enough of himself to not make a scene.
I stare at my plate of food. There is no way that I can eat. My appetite has been replaced by a dull ache in my stomach. My dad glances at me and whispers in a very low voice, “Is everything alright?”
“I suddenly don’t feel well,” I explain. “I am going to the restroom.”
His face betrays his obvious concern. “I’m okay. I just need a minute,” I reassure him.
He nods and stands up, pulling out my chair for me. I grab my purse and excuse myself from the table. I can feel Colin’s eyes bore into my back as I walk out of the ballroom. I don’t turn around, but I do reach up and gently touch my necklace. I hope he gets the message that I am okay.
I find an open balcony door and step outside in the cool Los Angeles night air. I lean against the railing and take deep cleansing breaths. I hate that I feel this way. Sasha is a nice person. Her body language says that she has strong feelings for Colin. I hate myself for being the other woman. I hate knowing that she is about to have her heart broken because of me, but my selfishness wants Colin more. A part of me wishes that he would have followed me out, but it would have been too obvious.
My phone indicates that I have a message. I grab it. I know that it’s from Colin, because he put his number in my phone as Statement.
Colin: Are you okay? I’m losing my mind in here.
Me: I needed some fresh air. I’ll be back in a minute.
Colin: I traded spots with Bree so Sasha and her could visit.
Me: Thank you.
I feel much better. I can do this. The evening is halfway over. I can deal with my guilty cheating conscience on the plane ride home tomorrow. Tonight, I get to have my cake and eat it too.
I walk back into the ballroom and take my seat. Thankfully, the dinner plates have been removed and my wine glass has been refilled.
“Everything okay?” my dad whispers.
“Yes. I am feeling much better,” I reassure him.
When dessert is served, the commissioner of the NFL stands up and approaches the podium. The room grows quiet in anticipation of his remarks. Brandon and Colin stop visiting and look ahead giving him their full attention.
“We are here tonight to honor the long and distinguished career of Clay South…” he begins. He goes through Clay’s impressive statistics, his awards, and accomplishments. I glance at Colin while the commissioner is speaking. Colin is so focused. I know that look. He only has the look when he’s playing football or trying to convince me that his way is the right way. I love the intensity of his eyes. I love when that intensity is directed at me.
“In conclusion,” he says, “we have put together a fifteen minute highlight reel of Clay’s career. Then there are a couple of people that I’ve asked to speak. Finally, the man of the hour will regale us with his own words.”
The room laughs. I just met Clay for a couple of hours yesterday, and I know that he is a real character.
Before the room darkens, Brandon asks Colin to swap seats because he wants to sit by Bree. Instead of Colin swapping with Bree, he swaps with Brandon. Over the course of a dinner, Colin has managed to play musical chairs around the table to get to the prize, which is me. He’s also managed to do it without raising any eyebrows.
When the lights go down, Colin’s hand is underneath the tablecloth and separating my dress at the slit so he can touch my bare skin, and well, everything else.
He shifts slightly in his chair giving him better access to his goal. He stares forward impassively at the screen while he rubs and massages my thigh working his way to my panties. This feels so wrong. His maybe girlfriend and my dad are mere inches from us as he begins to massage my clit through lace panties. I would love to squeeze my legs together and prevent his contact, but I am addicted to his touch. And, I frankly want him just as bad as he wants me.
I spread my legs open a little further allowing him to slide his fingers inside my panties. I feel how wet he is making me, and the fact that me being this wet for him drives me crazy. I am working hard at concentrating on the video and not throwing my head back and screaming his name. I glance up at him. He is focused on the screen with his poker face on. He speeds up his assault on my clit just as they show the picture of him, Clay, and baby Marley when she was born. Sasha turns and smiles at Colin. I bite the inside of my lip to keep my face from contorting as I come all over his hand. He slides two fingers inside me, allowing me to pulse on them. When I am done, he slides his fingers out, pulls my panties back into place and returns his hand to my thigh. I peek at his face. His mouth is turned up into his half smile.
I don’t want the video to end. I want his hand to stay right where it is for the rest of the evening, but alas, the screen goes dark and the lights come on and everyone begins to clap. He reluctantly removes his palm from my bare thigh and joins in the clapping.
He leans over close enough for me to hear him whisper, “Charlie, that was fucking hot.”
I smile at him.
The commissioner stands back up at the podium, and to my surprise, introduces Colin to speak. I know for a fact that Colin must be as hard as a rock. This is going to be interesting. I sit back and wait to see what he does. I notice him adjust himself and stand to walk up on stage. I don’t know how he does it, but he just looks like he has a big package not a raging hard on.
I look over at Sasha, and she is beaming at him. I feel like a guilty home wrecker for all of two seconds before he absentmindedly uses the two fingers that were just inside me to scratch his nose. The heat immediately returns to my lower stomach.
He begins, “Clay South and
I met many times on the football field. I respect him tremendously as player, but that’s not what I am here to speak to you about tonight. I am here to talk about Clay South the man, the father, and the husband. My coach in Dallas was friends with Clay from his previous coaching job. I had just suffered an extreme personal loss and couldn’t find my place in football anymore. My coach called Clay and told him that I needed my head set straight. Clay invited me to his lovely home, opened his guest bedroom to me and spent the next month helping me cope with my loss. It’s because of Clay South that I found my way back to football again and ultimately to what I want most in my life.”
He doesn’t elaborate on what that is, but I know that he is talking about me. Our eyes lock for just a moment, and it’s magical. The rest of Colin’s speech is about Clay’s relationship with his wife Janis and his four kids. He also tells the story of Marley’s birth and how they both got a little dust in their eyes. Everyone laughs. By the end of Colin’s talk, I am ready to crown Clay a saint.
“Now, I would like to introduce you to Doctor Jack Collins,” Colin says.
I pat my dad on the back as he stands up to take the podium. My dad walks up to the podium with the grace of an athlete. Even though he is not as big of a man as Colin, he still commands the stage.
Colin casually brushes his hand along my back as he takes Brandon’s still abandoned seat. I reach over under the tablecloth and rest my hand on his knee.
My dad begins to talk, “I’m Doctor Jack Collins. I have a practice in Houston that is dedicated to extending the professional life of athletes while focusing on their quality of life after their careers are over. Clay came to me with a neck injury that was preventing him from getting the kind of power that he needed to maintain his status as an elite quarterback. Every doctor had recommended surgery, but he was anxious. The first thing that he said to me was, ‘I’ve got to still be able to pick my kids up when I am done playing ball.’ Every decision that we made together after that went back to that goal. Ultimately, I recommended that we avoid surgery, he spent the off-season in my practice, under my watchful eye, and we rehabbed the injury like crazy. His family moved into an apartment near my practice, and every single day, I watched him work harder to get better than anyone else I have ever seen. He brought his family to watch every couple of days and cheer him on. Devotion is not a word that I throw around lightly, but devotion is what he showed to the game of football and to his family.”