Riley and I spent a miserable Thanksgiving morning at my mom’s for breakfast and listened to her bitch about her life and my dad, who was currently in Portland with his new girlfriend.
As much of a pain in the ass as Riley’s uncle was, I couldn’t wait to get out of my mom’s house and head to the Blacks’ home for Thanksgiving. The stress lines around Riley’s eyes disappeared once we pulled out of my driveway, but he was too polite to comment so I did.
“That was brutal.”
He grinned, keeping his eyes on the road. “I don’t think she appreciated Otto drooling all over her gleaming wood floors.”
Otto stuck his big head over the backseat and between us as if to agree.
I laughed. The look on my mom’s face when Otto strolled up to her and wiped his drool on her pristine black slacks had been priceless.
“She’s not much of an animal person. She hated that I came home smelling like a horse all the time. Dad is the animal lover.”
“You should’ve warned me. He could’ve stayed in the car.”
“That’s why I didn’t warn you.”
“You’re evil.” He smiled and reached over to pat Otto, then he grabbed my hand. “One down, one to go.”
“The day can only get better from here, despite your uncle’s feelings toward me.”
“You said it, I didn’t.”
“But you aren’t disputing my words.”
“Not on your life.” He chuckled as he pulled into Cooper and Izzy’s driveway, which was already packed with cars. I wasn’t surprised. Cooper probably invited the entire team to dinner, along with Izzy’s family.
Riley sobered, and his blue eyes searched mine. He squeezed my hand. “You okay, babe?”
“Absolutely. Cooper’s bark is worse than his bite.”
Riley threw back his head and laughed. “You got that right. He’s a softy at heart, but don’t ever let him know I said that.”
We got out, and Otto beat us up the sidewalk to the front door, just as Izzy opened it. He zipped past her and disappeared inside. She grinned at both of us as we joined her on the wide porch. She gave Riley a hug, then me.
“Come on in.” She stood back to let us inside and followed us. Seconds later, we were absorbed into the boisterous crowd taking over the large living room. Riley kept me tucked close to him, and I didn’t mind a bit. I leaned into his solid warmth and actually enjoyed myself.
Over an hour later, Izzy gestured to me. I extracted myself from the protection of Riley’s strong presence and approached her.
“Hey, could you help me with a few things in the kitchen?”
“Absolutely,” I said.
I followed her to the kitchen, knowing she didn’t need my help and wondering what the latest lecture would be.
Izzy checked the turkey in the oven, poured herself a glass of wine from one of the many bottles sitting on the counter, then poured me one. She handed it to me, her expression unreadable.
“I’ve never seen Riley so happy.” She might as well have been saying the sky was blue, for all the emotion that was in her voice, yet I knew her statement came from deep in the heart.
I didn’t say anything. I wasn’t going to take credit for Riley’s happiness or downplay the part I played in said happiness. Not to sound conceited, but I did contribute, just as he contributed to my happiness.
Izzy was taller than me by about seven inches, and she looked down at me; her penetrating gaze probably won stare-downs with her equally intense husband every time. I looked away. “He really loves you,” she said, surprising me.
Drawing a calming breath just as I was taught by multiple therapists, I met her gaze with a steady one of my own. “I love him, too.”
I couldn’t miss the astonishment skittering across her face. She blinked several times and stared harder at me. “That’s good to hear. We’ve been concerned. We consider Riley our son.”
“I know, and I consider Riley my forever love.” I’d never uttered those words or voiced that thought until now. Yet as I searched deep into my heart and my very being, I knew it to be true. I’d known it all along, but we’d had to find a way back to each other.
She backed up a few steps and refilled her wineglass, fingering the wine charm dangling from the stem. “We want Riley to be happy. If you’re the one, then we will love you like a daughter.” The power of the emotion in her tone set me back a few steps.
“I—I want to earn your love.” I spoke sincerely, and her expression softened. She placed her wineglass on the counter and approached me. Before I could register what was happening, she wrapped me in her arms and gave me a long hug. I swallowed back the emotion welling in my throat like a flash flood pushing against a straining dam.
Izzy released me but held on to my shoulders. She gazed down at me, this time with a smile on her face. “You’ll fit in well, Tiff.”
I had a champion in Izzy. She was on my side, and together we’d turn Cooper. As long as I didn’t mess it up, I had a clear path to being a welcome member of this family.
And I so wanted to be a member of Riley’s family.
Wine in hand, I followed Izzy back to the noisy, crowded living room. Riley immediately attached himself to my side, his arm snaked protectively around my waist. His puzzled expression took in both Izzy and me.
“Everything’s good, isn’t it.” It was a statement, not a question.
“Yes, we’re good. Really, really good.” I took his big hand in mine and leaned into him, careful to not spill my wine on his dress shirt or my midnight-blue sweater dress.
His smile cast a million rays of sunshine on my heart. He touched his lips to mine. He tasted like beer, promises, and all the good things to come. He tasted like home.
I leaned back and gazed up at him, taking a sip of my wine. He kissed my forehead and smiled.
“I’m a lucky man.”
“Not as lucky as I am. We’ve got this, Riley. We’re going to make it for the long haul.” I meant every word I said, and he knew it. I was all in.
He nodded slowly, a smile still lighting up his handsome face. “Yes, we are.”
I leaned into him and sighed a happy sigh. I could do this. I could get beyond all the pain, and I could live again. For Riley.
And for myself.
* Riley *
After Thanksgiving, the team had one more game on Saturday unless we got a bowl game. Right now, that wasn’t looking so good. We played our cross-state archrivals, Washington State University. They were bowl-bound, and one more win would seal a better bowl bid. The winner of this game would play in the conference championship.
We were not favored to win. In fact, far from it. We were supposed to get our asses handed to us on an engraved silver platter. Tanner and I had worked our butts off all week, along with some of the Chinook wide receivers, trying to get my timing down and increase my accuracy. I was taking a crash course in how to be a quarterback. Most likely, too little, too late.
I mentally slapped myself for that kind of thinking. Tiff would be pissed at me. She’d prop her hands on her hips and glare up at me, a little dynamo who insisted I believe in myself. Uncle Coop would give me his steely-eyed glare and tell me to give everything I had because I could hold my head high regardless of the outcome.
I hadn’t seen nearly enough of Tiff, but I’d seen her every night and morning. Thanksgiving had gone far better than we’d predicted. Even Uncle Coop treated Tiff as if he actually liked her. Maybe she was finally winning him over. I think he’d half expected her to disappear after the shooting anniversary, which had been her MO in the past, but she’d held steady and survived that day incredibly well. She’d been a little jumpy, which she attributed to watching a true-crime serial killer marathon on TV.
I guess that would do it.
Saturday came, and I woke up with a knot in the pit of my stomach. What the fuck was I doing? I wasn’t a quarterback. I was a tight end. I’d be going up against one of the best defenses in the North Division of the Pa
cific Conference. I tried to tamp down the doubt. I had a great group of wide receivers, an incredible running back, and a good offensive line. I could scramble with the best of them. Sure, my ability to throw in tight coverage or accurately over a long distance might be subpar, but as Uncle Coop kept reminding me, I had the Black family athletic genes. I could do this.
Tanner came into the locker room before the game as I was lacing my cleats. He stared down at me, his face a blank mask. “You’re ready for this.” He spoke matter-of-factly, as if he were saying it was going to rain in Seattle today.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I said wryly.
“You are ready for this,” he repeated, his eyes drilling into mine.
I met his gaze, took a cleansing deep breath, and nodded. “Yes, you’re right. I am ready.”
Tanner almost grinned, but he was playing the tough-guy role so he didn’t. “Good. See you after the game.” He gave me a slap on the back and left the locker room.
The game started with a bang, but it wasn’t our bang. The Cougars won the toss, elected to receive, and the return guy ran it all the way back for a touchdown. A collective groan rose up from the bench while our stands remained quiet and the Cougar faithful seated in the end zone erupted in triumph.
I took the team down to the Coug twenty with a series of passes and run plays. I lobbed a pass to Mason, who bobbled it just enough for a Coug defender to snatch it out of his hands and sprint to midfield before Eddie brought him down.
Sighing and trying not to get discouraged, I sat down on the bench next to the offensive coordinator and went over our next series of plays.
By the beginning of the fourth quarter, the score was twenty-eight to zero, and we had the zero. Through no fault of my own, my team was self-destructing. I played better than expected, but my receivers couldn’t catch a beach ball tossed from ten feet away. My running back had a bad case of fumble-itis, and the line was caving, leaving big holes. I’d been sacked six times already. My body hurt like hell. I was tired, grumpy, and feeling responsible for this disaster. The quarterback was the team leader, and I wasn’t leading. Nothing I did or said rallied the troops, try as I might. We hadn’t had a first down since three minutes into the first quarter.
As I limped off the field after another third-and-out, I looked into the weary eyes of our defense. They’d had too many minutes on the field. The rain had started to come down in sheets, adding to our misery.
We could still do this, but no one believed we could, and I couldn’t do it alone. The clock ticked mercilessly slow. The Cougars scored yet another touchdown. Our stands began to empty as dejected fans rushed to get out of the driving rain and away from this debacle.
Our punt return team had actually given us good field position on the fifty. I ran onto the field, gathered in the huddle, and gave each man as intense of a glare as I could muster. “We can’t give up.”
They stared back at me with a mixture of disbelief, defeat, and weary acceptance of their fate. No one bought it.
“We have to fight to the end,” I insisted. I saw gazes flicker to the scoreboard and back. “We’re going down fighting. I know it doesn’t look so good, and we’re fighting for nothing but fucking pride. But pride is lot, and we’ll know we never gave up.”
Skeptical gazes met mine. I wasn’t good at this pep talk crap, not like Gage. He could inspire every single member of that huddle to give 100 percent no matter how impossible the odds. I wasn’t doing so well.
We managed to get a first down, but that might’ve been because the Cougars put in their second-string defense, and Mason managed to hold on to the ball.
After the two-minute warning, I called a Hail Mary pass to the end zone. Every eligible receiver would be in that end zone and probably every defender. I threw the ball up in the air just before I was slammed to the ground yet again. I rolled to my feet slowly just as my pass was intercepted in the end zone. Mustering every bit of strength left in my battered and bruised body, I raced toward the guy and dived for him, bringing him down.
I watched the last seconds of the game run down from the sidelines. Our season was most certainly over. After this performance, no bowl committee would pick us. Who could blame them? We sucked.
All I wanted was a warm shower and a comforting hug from Tiff. I’d go home with my tail tucked between my legs and licking my wounds. Maybe Tiff would lick something else. That’d make me feel better. Tons better.
I dragged my weary body to the tunnel, bone-tired and emotionally drained.
I followed my teammates to the locker room with a tightness in my chest I couldn’t explain, unable to shake an odd feeling that losing this game wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to me tonight. A shiver ran down my spine, probably brought on by the freezing rain now pelting us.
Chapter 19—Secrets
* Tiff *
I accepted Cooper and Izzy’s invitation to join them in their suite, and I was glad I had. The rain was practically horizontal. If I’d been in the student section, I’d have been soaking wet before the end of the first quarter.
I felt awful for Riley and his teammates. Not only were they being annihilated, the weather wasn’t cutting them any slack, either. By the time the game mercilessly ended, they looked like drowned rats ready to escape their already-sunken ship.
Izzy, her sisters, and their significant others treated me like family. Cooper couldn’t quite bring himself to do that, but he was polite if a little chilly. He actually spoke a few words to me regarding being able to watch Riley’s game since the Sockeyes didn’t play until tomorrow night.
Riley finally came out of the locker room, freshly showered, dark hair still wet, and an ugly bruise on his left cheek. I held my hands up to my mouth and gasped. He walked as if he was in pain, and his smile was world-weary and beaten.
“Hey,” he said simply. His gaze rested on me, and I went to him and hugged him tight.
“You look a little battered.”
“A little?” He laughed and pulled me against his side as he made small talk with his family. I could tell by his monosyllabic answers, he was done for the night.
He begged off a late dinner and a few minutes later we were in his Mercedes heading for home.
I leaned across the console and rested my head on his shoulder. He felt strong and solid, despite the weary exhaustion written on every line on his face. I stroked his thigh, giving him what little comfort I could.
“I cringed every time they sacked you. Are you as bruised under your clothes as your face is?”
“Worse.” He placed a quick kiss on the top of my head, then returned his full attention to the road. “But I’ll have a long time to recover, assuming I ever play again.”
“Why wouldn’t you?”
“It’s a lot tougher to make the pros than college, and I wasn’t playing on a team that got a lot of media attention. I probably won’t get drafted.” He didn’t sound overly upset, just matter of fact.
“But you can walk on a team of your choice.”
“I could.”
“The Steelheads?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “Or maybe a team who desperately needs a tight end. If I made the team, would you move with me?”
I hesitated. I’d never considered Riley leaving this area. A few short months ago, Seattle was the last place I wanted to be; now I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. “What about being a quarterback?”
“Those days are over.” He met my gaze. “You know, I’m starving. Want to get a pizza?”
“Anything you want.”
He whipped the car around and drove several minutes to our favorite pizza place in downtown Seattle. We parked on the rain-slickened street a block or so from the restaurant. I hopped out and stood on the sidewalk before Riley could open my door. He frowned, and I grinned back. He liked to play the gentleman, and usually I let him.
“Sorry,” I said through lowered lashes.
“You should be.” He pulled me against a
building and kissed me as if kissing me were more vital than life itself. The way his mouth felt on mine, so right, so perfect, so everything I’d ever wanted, I decided his kisses were life itself.
I broke the kiss first. “Let’s get that pizza.”
“Yeah, but I get you later.”
“You get all of me,” I promised.
Hand in hand, we walked down the street. Riley stopped suddenly. I stumbled and clutched his arm to steady myself.
“Riley?”
He didn’t respond.
“Riley.” I shook his arm, tried to get his attention. He didn’t budge. He’d gone into hibernation right before my eyes. His gaze was riveted on a woman a few feet from us.
She had that hard look about her that women got when they’d lived a tough life. I suspected she wasn’t nearly as old as she looked. Despite her coal-black hair, I’d put her in her late fifties. Something about her was naggingly familiar.
“Come on, Ry.” I tugged his arm in an attempt to maneuver him around the woman, who appeared to be working Pike Street in downtown Seattle.
Riley’s face had turned chalky white, as if he’d seen a ghost. The woman, who’d been chatting it up with a younger version of herself, blew out a long stream of smoke from her cigarette and glanced in our direction. Her shrewd gaze landed on me first. She appraised me with a practiced eye, as if assessing whether or not I had anything she could readily grab. I clutched my purse to my chest and leaned into Riley. I knew we shouldn’t have come to this area of Seattle late at night. I didn’t feel safe despite the people milling around.
The streetwise woman turned her gaze on Riley, immediately dismissing him as a target. Then her face changed from weary to disbelief followed by outright shock. Her gaze snapped back to him, and she gaped at him open mouthed. He stared back. Neither of them moved. I was intimately aware of the seconds ticking by with torturous slowness. I had the distinct impression these two knew each other, yet I couldn’t fathom how or why. Riley’s uncle did work with the homeless, and Riley often helped. Perhaps he’d met her before. There couldn’t be another other explanation.
Sacked in Seattle: Game On in Seattle Rookies (Men of Tyee Book 1) Page 15