Blitz: A Secret Baby Sports Romance Series (Books 1-5)

by S. J. Bishop

  "You did take care of Ash's memory and that scumbag Nose, and I'm forever grateful to you for that. But Angelo...this is different."

  "Why?"

  "Because I'm different."

  And there it was. The final statement on the subject. A declaration there was no way that Angelo could deny. He clasped his hands together in front of him. "That you are," he said, his voice cracking ever so slightly.

  "Now, please. If you really cared for me like a son, then leave me be."

  "Nothing I can say will change your mind?"

  "No."

  Angelo shook his head and started back down the path toward the parking lot. A black sedan pulled up to meet him. He walked past me looking solemn, and I knew I hadn't heard the last of him.

  Out of nowhere, a woman's voice shouted shrilly through the air. "There you are!"

  I turned to see a woman with long, straight black hair and a lime green face painted on her. She was wearing a black cape that billowed out around her as she walked, like she was flying through the air instead of walking on cement. She sneezed every few feet, pausing just long enough to wipe carefully at her nostrils without actually touching her makeup. It seemed an impossible task.

  "Madeline?" I asked, confused. "Is that you?" Would this morning never end? I'd almost put her out of my mind completely. "Why are you dressed like a witch?"

  "Because that's the only part I can get, thanks to Clarissa." I heard the bitterness in her voice and didn't feel sorry for her one bit.

  "Well, I don't have time for this. Get the hell out of here. I don't have anything to say to you."

  "Yeah? Well, I've got something to say to you. After spending the last eight hours with this poison on my face making me sneeze every other minute..." As if on cue, she sneezed. Her face contorted and her eyes watered. Each sneeze sounded like a baby chipmunk squeaking as it called out for its mother. It would have been cute if I wasn't so mad at her. "...and this wig cemented down so that it's never gonna come off, I had some time to think. I deserve better than this."

  I rolled my eyes. She was such a petulant child. "If you were ever really Clarissa's friend, then you'll stop whatever this is and go home."

  "I can't go home," she said, her white teeth looking especially brilliant against the glowing green of her skin. "I have to get back to set. Why do you think I'm still dressed like this? We're on break. I had to sneak off set to come find you. You know how long it took me to get into this makeup? And I'm only in the scene for ten fucking minutes! AND it's not even union!" She was screaming at the top of her lungs and drawing a lot of stares from passersby.

  Angelo had stopped walking. He stood beside the sedan, watching us with interest. I moved further up the path, anxious to get away from him.

  "Get lost, Madeline."

  "How do you know you don't want to hear what I've got to say until you hear it?"

  There was a crazy logic to that I couldn't deny, but I didn't give a shit. I could feel Angelo's eyes on us. "Not now," I told her, turning my back to her.

  She put her hand on my shoulder and spun me back around. "Clarissa's pregnant. It's yours."

  Every ounce of blood drained from my face. "Bullshit."

  She shook her head fervently. "It's true."

  "How would you know?"

  "She told me, before...before she..."

  "Before she realized what a scum-sucking liar you are? Why should I believe anything you tell me?"

  "You don't have to. Ask her. She was planning to get an abortion and not even tell you."

  My head was spinning. No way could what Madeline was saying be real. She had to be making it up. I saw her watching me, a strange smile on her face. "Say it's true. Why the hell would you tell me? What do you care?"

  A shadow passed across her wide, round eyes. "She has things...parts...I mean, I've done things that she hasn't. It's not fair." Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes.

  "I have no fucking clue what you're talking about." It didn't matter, though. Nothing mattered now except getting to Clarissa. I knew that everything Madeline was saying had to be bullshit. Clarissa and I had only known each other a couple weeks. That was way too quick for her to be pregnant, wasn't it? I did some fast calculations in my head back to the first time I'd fucked her outside the bar. I'd been so drunk and horny that I hadn't used a condom. I never used condoms, though. They were death for hard-ons. I'd always assumed that if a chick didn't say something, she must be on the pill.

  I breezed past Angelo without a word and had my car door open when I suddenly realized something. She'd been trying to tell me something this morning. Something important. I don't really know how to say this...Lars...

  "Shit," I screamed, almost slamming my hand in the door as I shut it. This was bad.

  37

  Clarissa

  I looked up just in time to see Lars running in through the sliding hospital doors. "What's wrong?" I asked. "Didn't you get my message? He's okay. They stabilized him."

  Lars was shaking his head. "I know. I listened to your voicemail in the car. That's not why I'm here."

  His limbs were shaking. "Did something happen at practice?" We were standing in the middle of the waiting room. I'd been here so much lately that it was beginning to feel like a home away from home. A few of the people in the hospital foyer watched us, mostly out of boredom. One man sat in the back corner, his head buried in his hands. He had dark hair and light brown skin, and when he lifted his face in our direction, he had the saddest eyes I'd ever seen.

  "Are you pregnant?" Lars blurted, his face a mix of confusion and anger.

  My jaw dropped open. I'd thought that after everything that had happened to me in the last two weeks, including my father's accident, I was prepared for anything that life had to throw at me. But I hadn't been prepared for this.

  "I...what makes you think that?"

  It was the wrong answer to his question. Anything other than a flat-out denial would have been wrong because anything other than a flat-out denial was a yes. I could see his eyes change. They grew dark and cumbersome, like he was suddenly carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

  "It's mine?" he whispered.

  "I...I..." I wanted to tell him that I wasn't pregnant. That it was all a big misunderstanding. I had no idea how he could have found out. The only other person I'd told was Madeline. I kicked myself for being so stupid. Madeline. Of course. She'd been playing me all along, hadn't she?

  "Clarissa, answer me!" Lars had never raised his voice to me like this once during our whirlwind romance. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. I couldn't find my voice. "Is it mine?!" he demanded.

  I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. So I nodded my head instead. Lars blinked several times, as if he couldn't see what was in front of him. I reached out for him, wanting to comfort him...wanting him to comfort me. I needed to know that this wasn't it between us. That he wasn't about to freak out and leave me like I'd feared he would.

  He shook my hand off as I pressed it to his shoulder.

  "No," he said simply. His eyes were red and wet. "How could you keep this from me?"

  Finally, my voice began to work. "I didn't know how to tell you."

  "Is it true you were planning to get an abortion?"

  I couldn't look at him. Goddammit, Madeline! Why had I ever listened to her?

  "Oh God, you were," he said, his face cringing as he leaned away from me like I was a piece of yesterday's trash. "And you weren't gonna say anything? I feel like I don't even know you. And after I've told you everything about myself..." His voice trailed off, and his eyes wandered from mine to the wall behind me.

  "Lars, please; listen to me. I was confused. I was gonna get rid of it, yes, but I changed my mind. I didn't go through with it because I knew I had to talk to you first."

  It was like he couldn't even hear me. I saw in his eyes that everything between us had changed. With one lie, I had ruined everything. He stepped away from me, his face red, his ch
eeks wet. Then he walked out of the hospital, and I was alone. Forever alone. I sunk into a chair and began to sob uncontrollably.

  "There now," a man's deep voice said from behind me. I looked up to see the man who'd been sitting in the corner of the room. The man with the saddest eyes I'd ever seen. He was about forty and reminded me a little of my father with his concerned look and his worried brow. He put one hand gently on my shoulder.

  "This too shall pass," he said. I nodded, not sure how much comfort it was to hear the words, but I appreciated having a friendly face to talk to, even if it was the friendly face of a stranger.

  "May I sit?" he asked, motioning to the chair beside me.

  "Sure," I said, wiping the tears from my eyes.

  "You have a loved one here?"

  I nodded. "My father. You?"

  "My daughter, Theresa. She's about your age." He buried his head in his hands as he said her name, his chest heaving. I forgot my own grief for a moment as I reached for his hand, patting it gently.

  "It's okay," I said. "She'll be okay. As a wise man once said, this too shall pass." He looked up from his hands and offered me a small smile.

  "Who said I was a wise man?"

  "I did. Just now." His smile widened. "I'm Clarissa. Clarissa Walker." I extended my hand. He took it in his, shaking it.

  "Clarissa, it's nice to meet you. I'm Marco Rossi."

  38

  Lars

  My phone buzzed in my pocket for the umpteenth time today. I pulled it out and read yet another text from Clarissa. Two days. It had only been two days. Was that really so long? Couldn't she give me a little bit of breathing room so that I could wrap my head around the idea of being a father?

  Please call me. Let's talk about this.

  I put my phone back in my pocket without sending a reply.

  A second later, it buzzed again. "Goddammit, Clarissa!" I screamed, double- checking that I'd locked my car doors before taking my phone back out.

  I miss you. I'm sorry. Good luck today.

  I sighed and tried to put myself in her shoes. I hadn't exactly been receptive to the news of her pregnancy. She'd called me a dozen times in the last two days and texted me a dozen more, and I hadn't returned one of them. It wasn't just her being pregnant, though. It was the fact that she'd hidden it from me.

  I walked toward the stadium with my head wrapped more around her than it was around the game. I tried to snap myself out of it any way that I could. I pictured Coach walking alongside me, talking to me as if he weren't lying in a hospital bed in a coma. My head ached and my body ached with it. The last two days of practice had been rough.

  Tom Miller had run us ragged trying to prepare us for today's game. He'd told us to win it for Coach Walker. As if we weren't already thinking that. Coach's absence had affected everyone on the team differently, but in general, it had brought us closer together. Even Matt Barton and I had been getting along better since Coach's accident. Yesterday, after practice, he'd told me he was sorry for ratting me out about showing up to practice drunk that time.

  The stadium loomed heavily in front of me. My phone buzzed again, and I ignored it. Clarissa was gonna drive me batshit crazy if she didn't knock it off. There were a series of buzzes in my pocket that seemed linked together in one never-ending loop. Finally, I pulled my phone out and typed back: The Super Bowl is in TWO HOURS. Leave me alone!

  I waited with my breath held to see if she would respond with anything. Gratefully, she didn't.

  I was almost at the player's entrance when I spotted Angelo out of the corner of my eye, hovering outside the door. When he saw me, he did that smile-sneer he was famous for. He started toward me and I stopped walking, not wanting anyone to hear whatever it was he had to say to me.

  "Angelo," I said, jumping right in. "What are you doing here?"

  "I came to see my favorite quarterback," he said. "And to wish him luck."

  "Thanks. Now, if you'll excuse me."

  "What? So fast? You can't spare a moment for your old friend?"

  "What do you want, Angelo?"

  He narrowed his eyes at me. "You know what I want. This is your last chance. I'm getting my money from you one way or another."

  "Well then, I guess it will have to be the other, because I'm not throwing the game for any reason, under any circumstances." I continued past him, not bothering to look back. I walked right through the player's gate and down to the locker room.

  My phone buzzed again just as I was opening my locker.

  I'm sorry. I'm just scared. Good luck today. I love you.

  A sudden swarm of butterflies filled my stomach. My heart raced as I reread her words. She loved me? How many people had said that to me in my life? My mom...and Ash. And now Clarissa. My finger hovered over the keyboard, wondering if maybe I'd been a little harsh on her. Maybe...maybe it wasn't too late for us.

  39

  Clarissa

  "Want some more coffee?" my sister asked.

  "No. Thanks. I think if I drink any more coffee, I'll be up peeing all night long."

  "You've already been peeing like a pregnant lady. Maybe you need some vitamins."

  I turned my head quickly so Treena couldn't see the blush creep into my cheeks. I hadn't told her I was pregnant yet.

  "Hey," she said, sounding serious. "I'm sorry it took me so long to get down here. It's harder than I thought it would be to set aside time off when you're a cop."

  "It's fine," I told her. "Lots of people have been by to see Dad. I've had company."

  I kept checking my phone, hoping Lars would text. I knew I was probably driving him nuts, but I couldn't seem to stop myself. I needed to see him. To talk to him. To feel his hot body press against mine just one more time. Who are you kidding? Once more would never be enough.

  "So, what do you think? Should we turn the game on? Think he can hear it?" I asked Treena, trying to get my mind off of everything. She held our father's hand as she sat beside him. I was curled up in a chair. I'd slept here with Treena last night. Neither of us liked the idea of leaving my father alone. The only time I'd done so since Lars' outburst two days ago was to pick her up at the airport. When I'd gotten back to his room, I'd noticed fresh flowers in Dad's vase and could smell Lars's aftershave lingering in the air.

  "Of course we should turn it on," Treena squealed. "This is just what we need to snap him out of this."

  "You really believe that?"

  "I do."

  I sighed. "So does Lars."

  Treena squinted. "You mean the quarterback?"

  "Yeah."

  I felt her eyes on me, watching me with her trained cop's perception. "Aha, something going on between you two?"

  I spun my head in her direction, blushing, looking at my father as if he were about to wake up and flip out, hearing the insinuation in Treena's voice. "He's come by the hospital a few times, that's all. He and Dad were pretty close." I turned the game on. Treena watched me a moment longer as I tried desperately to keep my big mouth shut and my eyes fixated on the television. Finally, I felt her back off.

  "So, what about that big Broadway show you're starring in?" Treena had always been supportive of me in Colorado. She'd been almost as excited as I was when I'd called to tell her about my new part.

  "I think I might be getting fired."

  "What? Already? How many rehearsals have you been to?"

  "One."

  "And they're ready to fire you?" She screwed up her face, puffing out her cheeks, and in a chipmunk's voice said, "Jeez, Clarissa, you must really suck."

  I burst into giggles.

  "Really, though, can't you talk to them?"

  "I tried."

  "And?"

  I sighed. "The main director, Phil, likes me. He's the only reason I'm even in the show to begin with. The other guy—"

  "You mean the scumbag—"

  "That's right, the scumbag. I think he's been boning some other actress who wants my part. He's ready to give it to her, too."

&
nbsp; "Sick bitch," Treena said.

  "I know. Jerry's ugly and mean, too. I feel sorry for whoever's crawling under him like that, even if she does get my part."

  My phone vibrated on the table. I grabbed it and looked at the text I'd just received. It was from Lars.

  Meet me after the game. I want to see you.

  I couldn't hide the smile that was splayed across my face.

  "Who was that?" Treena asked suspiciously.

  "No one." She opened her mouth, ready to interrogate me. I had to cut her off at the pass. "You know, I think I will get some more coffee after all. Be right back."

  I jumped up before she could say another word and headed toward the vending machine, grinning from ear to ear. As I stepped into the hallway, a figure came up to me.

  "Clarissa?"

  "Madeline!" I exclaimed, shocked to see her.

  "Hi," she said, looking everywhere but in my eyes. "How are you?"

  "How am I?" I yelled, anger boiling inside me.

  Madeline finally raised her eyes to mine. "I'm sorry," she said.

  "Sorry? You're sorry? For what, exactly? For the lies you told me? For pretending to be my friend?"

  Tears brimmed in her eyes, but I didn't feel bad for her. "I just…I found out your dad was here and I wanted to…I mean…I wasn't pretending to be your friend. I just…"

  "Piss off, Madeline." I continued walking past her, toward the coffee machine.

  "Clarissa!" she called out. "I fucked up. I know that. But I wasn't pretending to be your friend. I swear it!"

  "Go away, Madeline. I've got nothing to say to you." I made my way to the coffee machine, and when I turned back, Madeline was gone. I blinked back the tears, wishing she had just stayed away. I pushed my quarters into the slot and tried to forget she was ever here. That I'd even known her in the first place.

  "Clarissa," a man said as my coffee spilled out of the machine and into the cup.

  "Marco," I said, trying to smile.