The drive is uneventful. There’s hardly another soul on the road. I hit an easy 75 and keep going all the way into Philly. I don’t turn the radio on. On the side of the road, I can see the big old refineries looming up. They’re from a time when Philadelphia was a completely different type of city, when it was full of industry, and when the factories and foundries spewed thick clouds of pollution into the air every day.
The pollution is gone today, and the air is cleaner, but with the pollution the jobs vanished too. People are having a hard time economically. Sure, not everyone. There are still the people with cushy office jobs, but just walk around the city for a day and you can see that people are really hurting, that they’re struggling. They’re not living on much money at all, and for these people football is really one of their very few pleasures, one of their few escapes. People complain that the fans just live vicariously through us, the athletes, but I don’t. I understand it. If you don’t have anything else to look forward to in your week, then you really want your team to win. I understand why the fans are so crazy for us to win. In reality, I have an obligation to them.
I just wish I had an obligation to something else, to someone… to someone like Chloe.
If I had a daughter with her, instead of whoever she had the kid with, I’d always be there… I would have never left, not like that other guy, whoever he is, that asshole.
My mind wanders here and there on the drive, and I’ll admit it heads into some pretty dark places.
I don’t know what I’m going to do if Chloe doesn’t want me this time. I can’t go back to womanizing the way I was. I’m sick of it, sick to the depths of my stomach and my soul with it. There’s never any connection. The women only wanted me because I’m famous, I’m rich, and I’m a good football player. Oh, and because I’m on television, too.
There’s no traffic. No noise from other cars. Just the sound of my tires on the road, just the slight sound of the engine. The city is looming up ahead of me, the tall skyscrapers dominating the horizon.
I get back to my place early in the morning, when people are just starting to make their coffee, when they’re stumbling out in their bathrobes, shivering, to fetch the newspaper from out front.
I drive slowly through the suburbs and head to my house. Sure, I have an apartment in the city, too, but this is a little more relaxing out here. I throw my duffel bag down in the kitchen hallway and look out at the back yard for a moment. There’s really nothing here. Sure, the house has furniture, and it has a good view, but there’s nothing growing in the back yard, and the home doesn’t have that lived in feel that a real home would have. Really, I haven’t spent much time here. The place is like a shell of a house, an imitation of a real home. If I had someone like Chloe to share my life with, I’m sure it would be different. There’d be a small garden out back, and there’d be a little bit of a mess in the kitchen, not too much of course, but just enough to make it feel cozier. The place would feel used, lived in, rather than this cold, empty feeling that even the sun and the heating system can’t dissipate, no matter what.
There are a dozen messages from Coach on the home answering machine, and I check my cell phone’s voicemail and find another dozen.
I call him back.
“You’re finally back?” says Coach’s gruff voice. “Or you decided to abandon us for bumblefuck Pennsylvania?”
“It’s only a couple hours away,” I say. “And my mom needed my help. I had to take her to the physical therapist.”
“With what we’re paying you, you could have just paid someone to do that.”
“I’m doing that now,” I say. “But it needed the special touch, you know? It means a lot to her to have her son come home.”
“Yeah, yeah,” says Coach, sounding even more annoyed than usual. “No more excuses, Dan. You’ve got to get your ass in here. We’ve got a game coming up, remember?”
“Just one thing, Coach,” I say. “I’ll be in to practice today, but could I ask you a favor?”
“A favor?” says Coach, his voice sounding bitter and mean, rough and tough, like an industrial machine that hasn’t been oiled in decades.
“Yeah,” I say, unfazed by his tone. The idea has just come to me, so I might as well try it out while I’ve got Coach’s attention. “You think you could wrangle me some special tickets to the next game?”
“I’m not the guy to talk to about that,” says Coach.
“But it’s easier,” I say. “This is a last minute thing.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” says Coach, before hanging up.
Sure, of course I can get tickets for friends to the game, but if I go through Coach I can get the really good ones, make the whole thing more special. I’m thinking that I could invite Chloe and her daughter out to the game this week. Maybe Chloe was upset that I didn’t ask much about her daughter, but maybe if I can show that I’m more of a family oriented guy than she thought, well, maybe that way she’ll give me a chance this time. Just maybe.
I’m tired, but I’ve got to get to practice. I make myself some instant coffee, because I’m a bachelor and don’t even have a coffee pot here. I throw some things into another duffel bag, and get back into my car. It’ll be good to get to the field earlier than everyone else for practice. I’ll take a shower and it’ll give me some time to think.
On the way over in my car, with the cool morning air and the morning sun, I think of what I’m going to write to Chloe.
When I park in the lot, right in my reserved parking space like always, I kill the engine, and write my message to Chloe.
“Hey,” I write, unable to think of anything better to say. “Had a great time with you last night. Was hoping you and your daughter could come to my game this week. Special seats and everything.”
I look it over and don’t think it sounds too idiotic, so I hit send and hold my breath, hoping for the best. This better not be like last time, six years ago.
But I know there was something… something powerful between us. I know that she can’t stay away from me. I just know it, deep in my bones, and in the very center of my heart.
Just thinking about her has got my cock hard again, so I have to hold my duffel bag in front of me at an awkward angle as I get out of the car and start walking towards the locker room, the cool air nipping my skin, since I’m not in the habit of wearing a jacket, no matter what the weather. I was thinking that the cold would kill my erection, but I’ve got no such luck. Thoughts of last night with Chloe swirl through my head, sending blood rushing to my ever-growing hard cock.
Damn, I should have thought to take care of this before I left the house. Even though my body is exhausted without any sleep, my cock still wants Chloe, and is still raging hard for her.
I head into the locker room and I’m the first one here, and probably will be by at least an hour.
I strip down and my cock is as hard as ever. Heading into the shower, I turn the water on hot, and let the steam tumble up around me, making my body feel relaxed.
Chloe’s naked breasts are rushing across my mind’s eye. My hand falls down towards my cock and I grip it without really thinking about it. I let my fingers wrap around my hard shaft and my head tilts back towards the ceiling and my eyes close, giving me a better look at my memory of Chloe’s body. I remember what she looked like naked in the pool, getting out, with her hands on the pool deck, pulling her naked body out of the pool, the water falling off her in cascades.
I imagine that Chloe’s here in the shower with me, with the steam all around us, making us warm and comfortable. There’s no one like her, no one that can compare to her beauty.
I picture her long, shining legs and where they meet in the middle. In my imagination, her soft tight pussy clamps down around my cock, sliding onto it, taking the whole thick length inside her. She moans softly and tilts her hips, gyrating them up and down at an angle. Her hands reach around my back and hold onto my muscular, cut shoulders. I grunt and she moans. I thrust my hips into her,
pumping into her. There’s no condom, nothing to distract from the pleasure of naked flesh on naked flesh.
She feels so good. Of course, it’s just my imagination… but I can trick my body somewhat with my mind.
My fist is working along my cock in a fury now. I’m half in the water, the shower stream hitting my hard back and ricocheting off in a thousand little streams.
I thrust my cock forward, into my fist. My fist is a blur now. I open my eyes and watch my cock, my own fist, pretending now that it’s Chloe’s delicate little hand on my cock.
I’m about to come. The pressure is building up, like a rocket. I can feel my body tensing. I straighten my legs as I stand, clenching all my muscles at once.
I want her so badly… so badly.
I’ll do anything for her.
My cock explodes and I sigh as the orgasm bursts through me, waves of pleasure washing from my body.
It’s good, but not anything compared to Chloe, to the real thing. It’s nothing compared to last night, and the orgasm leaves me only briefly satisfied. My come washes away down the drain, the hot water still blasting from the showerhead.
Sighing, I grab my bottle of body wash and squirt some into my hand.
Got to get my head into the game.
I make suds from the wash in my hands, rubbing them together, and start lathering up my body.
“No fucking way!” comes a shout from someone. Sounds like some of my teammates have finally arrived. They burst into the locker room, making a ruckus, laughing and cursing at each other.
I’ve never felt more alone than right now, with my come washing down the drain, with the teammates arriving, and with Chloe so far away.
Chloe
A smile comes across my lips as I read the text message from Dan.
I’m just waking up, sleepily from the exertion from the night before. My entire body aches, since I haven’t had much time to be athletic, and Dan and I used our bodies in ways that I’m not used to.
The light is barely peeking in from behind the curtains, but other than that the room is dark and stuffy.
I’ve got to do something about this heating system, I think to myself. It always makes the air in here feel stale. Well, maybe when the business is doing better I’ll be able to afford something more.
I know that Scout will still be asleep in her room. Unlike other children and their parents, I’m always up before her. I need to wake her up every morning, no matter what. I imagine she’d sleep until noon like a teenager if I let her.
So Dan wants to invite the two of us to the game?
I’ll admit that last night I became very, very worried about the possibility… well, the necessity of Dan finding out that Scout is his daughter.
I feel horrible about this, and the sick, heavy feeling is still in my stomach. But it’s not going to go away until I tell him. Well, tell them both. They’ll be reunited, and if things work out, I can already picture the smiles on their faces as they finally really become dad and daughter.
But so much can go wrong.
My heart is starting to pound, beating quickly, as I think about everything that could happen. Dan could become furious with me, and Scout too, for that matter.
But I have to tell him. I simply have to.
I lay in bed for a few minutes, just gazing at Dan’s text, a flood of different emotions still flowing through me—anxiety, joy, expectation… everything under the sun.
Finally, it’s time to get up and make the coffee.
After a few minutes alone, I head over to Scout’s room to wake her up.
“Wake up, honey,” I say, gingerly patting her head.
“I don’t want to go to school today,” says Scout, frowning as soon as her eyes open.
“Why’s that, honey?” I say.
She shrugs her shoulders in an exaggerated way. She must have seen it on TV somewhere. It looks pretty funny, and I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing.
“Come on,” I say. “Let’s get you some breakfast. And, I’ll tell you what, if you go to school all week, there’s a special surprise on Friday for you.”
“What’s that?” says Scout, her eyes already wide at the possibilities.
“A friend invited the two of us to one of his football games,” I say. “An old friend…”
The rest of the morning, Scout won’t stop peppering me with questions, the way young children do. She wants to know all about this friend, and what he does. She’s fascinated by the idea that he’s on TV, and that we might be on TV if we go to one of his games.
“It’s good to get you out of here,” I say. “It’ll be good for you to go somewhere new with me. You’ve never been to Philadelphia before.”
“I haven’t?”
I laugh. “You’d remember it, I think,” I say. “It’s a big city, with a lot of people. There are going to be a lot of people at the game with us.”
“Everyone in Philadelphia?”
“Not everyone,” I say, chuckling a little. “They wouldn’t all fit in the stadium.”
I drop Scout off at school and head over to the pool to get started on the workday. I try to push Dan out of my mind in order to prepare for the work day ahead, but I really don’t see the point of this mental exercise. As of yesterday, there wasn’t anyone on the schedule for today, so upon pulling up to the parking lot, I just expect a day of cleaning the pool to keep busy.
But as soon as I enter, Dan’s mother is waiting for me, looking impatiently at her watch.
“You took your time, didn’t you, dear?” she says, a somewhat nasty look on her face.
“This is my normal time,” I say, trying to sound professional. “After all, I had to drop my daughter off at school.”
“Oh, what a shame,” says Mrs. Cambridge.
“Excuse me?” I say.
“Oh, it’s just that I was hoping Dan and you might get married.”
I don’t know what to say, but fortunately a very real choking fit (it feels like something is caught in my throat) saves me from having to respond. Little does Mrs. Cambridge know that I was dropping her granddaughter off at school.
“Well,” I say, finally recovering. “Why don’t you get changed and we can get started? How’s everything feeling today?”
“Quite a bit better, actually,” says Mrs. Cambridge.
I know this is the most I’m going to get in terms of a thank you. She’s not one to sing the praises of anyone, that’s for sure.
I get changed myself, after she’s done, and then I help her into the pool. We do many of the same drills and exercises as yesterday, with a couple minor variations that I think will help her regain mobility. Her hired helper waits patiently in the waiting room, flipping through old magazines and watching football videos on his smartphone.
“So Dan left this morning for Philadelphia?” I say, when the session is finally over, and I’m helping Mrs. Cambridge out of the pool.
“He left last night, dear,” says Mrs. Cambridge.
“Last night?”
“It shocked me too,” she says. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about it, would you?”
“No…” I say.
“I don’t want to know about the personal business between you two,” says Mrs. Cambridge. “Let’s just leave it at where it is now, shall we?”
I appreciate her more old fashioned take on this sort of thing. This is exactly the thing you don’t want to get stuck having to explain to your lover’s mother.
Is he my lover, though?
I think back to the text. Sounds like Scout and I will visit him in Philadelphia, as long as he’s still up for it, and hasn’t forgotten about me already, now that he’s back in the big city.
But I know there was something there, something powerful that binds us together. I could feel it in his body last night, on his lips when he kissed me, and in his eyes when he gazed into mine.
The rest of the day passes uneventfully, without any more clients, so I spend my time cleaning the p
ool, and trying not to think about Dan too much. But in the end I spend all my time day dreaming about him, about last night, about his body…
I spend plenty of time worrying too, about what will happen when I finally get up the nerve to tell him about Scout. Who knows when that will be though, since the more I think about it the more it seems silly and even foolish to break the news so early to him. Maybe I should wait until later, when things are going really well between us. That way he won’t be able to get mad, to be upset…
But he would have every right to be furious with me. If the tables were turned, and somehow I had a child without knowing it (hard to imagine from a woman’s perspective, I know, but bear with me), I’d be devastated and beyond distraught if I were to find out later. I can’t imagine how he’d feel if I told him…
Maybe it’d be better not to tell him. Maybe he’ll just meet Scout and like her so much that he’ll adopt her, the two of us marrying and living happily ever after, with Dan never knowing the truth.
I go back and forth on this issue so many times in my head that by the end of the day I feel sick to my stomach, and it’s not just the smell of the pool cleaning products that’s doing it to me.
I pick Scout up from school, fix her dinner, and the two of us watch about a half hour of TV before I put her to bed.
“You’ve got to rest up,” I tell her. “We’ve got our big trip coming up.”
“I’m not sleepy at all, though,” says Scout, but it’s not to my surprise at all when she falls fast asleep less than five minutes later, her little child snores coming up from her pillow and filling the room.
In the kitchen, I pour myself a small glass of wine and continue to watch the TV for another few minutes in an effort to distract myself, before turning it off in boredom.
I’m only sitting in silence for a couple minutes when my phone rings.
“Hello?” I say, smiling to myself because I already know it’s Dan on the other end of the line.
Her Boss: A Billionaire and Virgin Romance Page 27