The Tight End: A New Adult Sports Romance ~ Casper (The Rookies Book 2)

by Zoë Lane

  “You could’ve made your point without bringing up the car accident.” Landyn stood, a frown marring his chiseled features. “He blames himself for that accident. He wasn’t out partying that night, wasn’t drinking. He just...for a moment got distracted...and his wife died.”

  I gasped, my hands at my mouth. His wife! “What?” I sputtered.

  Landyn nodded. “High school sweethearts. Married six months. She was his first and...only.” He looked away sheepishly, like maybe he’d said too much. He paused at the door, turning to face me. “You’re the first woman I’ve ever seen him get stupid for. Take it for what it’s worth.”

  “Landyn—”

  “I’ll talk to him. If there’s something wrong with his shoulder...I’ll talk to him.”

  Landyn exited, and I stood in the same position, staring at empty space for longer than I knew. I questioned myself and my right to my indignant attitude, but my justification still rang loudly in my ears: I care about the players. I want them healthy. It was the whole reason why I had gotten into this profession.

  I knew what it was like to see the signs that something bad was going to happen and ignoring them. I’d seen what a lack of caution and overplaying had done to people’s bodies...their muscles and bones. However wonderful and fascinating the human body was, it wasn’t infallible.

  It was so easily broken.

  Nothing more so than the heart.

  But Casper’s heart? He blamed himself for his wife’s death. Had he gotten over that?

  You’re the first woman I’ve ever seen him get stupid for.

  Maybe his heart had healed since his wife’s death, but I wasn’t free. And after what I had said and what I’d done with his medical reports, he’d probably wised up by now.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CASPER

  “You were right. You’re always right.”

  Landyn patted me on my back twice and then handed me a plateful of nachos. Rose followed him into the den with a bowl of seven-layer dip. The chips were already on the coffee table in front of the couch, hot and ready for me to devour. “I’m so glad we’re hanging out again, Casper,” Rose said with a smile. “Sorry for keeping Landyn busy. He’s insatiable.” Her warm eyes went to Landyn.

  Ew.

  “I know I’m always right,” Landyn said. “About what, exactly?”

  “Casper, why do you encourage him? Because he’s not always right.”

  Landyn shot her a playfully narrowed look, and then swatted her rear when she came to sit next to him on the couch. She punched him in the shoulder. Hard.

  “Woman, I’m a quarterback!”

  “Man, you throw with your other arm!”

  “Still,” he grumbled.

  She wiggled close to him on the couch, and he planted a sweet kiss on her cheek. I remembered when I used to kiss Em’s cheek when we snuggled on our third-hand couch to watch the tiniest flat-screen television known to man, otherwise known as a laptop screen, and then fall asleep in each other’s arms. I hadn’t thought I’d be able to have that again.

  Until Siobhan.

  “I thought...I dunno.”

  “You thought your heart wanted to try again,” Rose said softly, a hopeful smile curving her round cheeks. “And maybe it does. Maybe it should.”

  “Siobhan probably isn’t the right one to try it with,” Landyn said.

  “Why not?” Rose’s gaze darted between Landyn and myself. “She seems...okay, I guess. I’ve never really interacted with her. Always looks professional, though.”

  “She takes her professionalism seriously,” Landyn said sarcastically. Rose looked to me for explanation.

  “She read my medical records without my permission.”

  Rose’s heart-shaped face hardened. “What? And you haven’t reported her?”

  “She’s lucky Casper is so biased,” Landyn said dryly with a roll of his eyes.

  Rose added, “She’s lucky she’s still employed.”

  They were both right. I liked her well enough, and because of that, she still had a job.

  “Sure wish she’d act like it,” Landyn muttered. “At least to Casper. Maybe give him a little bit extra during the massage. Ooph!” Rose elbowed him in the stomach. Did nothing for the wide grin on Landyn’s face.

  “Well, she told me,” I explained. “I felt bad about it.”

  “And?” Rose asked.

  “And I...I let it slide.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he’s an idiot,” Landyn said around a few nachos. The smacking continued. “He likes her. Really likes her. So she can do anything.”

  “She can’t do anything,” I argued. I shoved some nachos into my mouth, chewing angrily. Well, maybe she could.

  “She shouldn’t be blaming you for...” Landyn trailed off.

  I didn’t supply the rest of the sentence, and Rose, thankfully, said nothing and silently munched on chips and dip. I didn’t know if Landyn had told her about my accident or not, but at least I didn’t have to hear it again, nor mention it.

  I sighed loudly and fixed my eyes on the television, a horror movie playing since Halloween was a few weeks away. Some teenage girl screamed and started running. Any second, she would trip over air, fall down, and then get killed. So simple. So careless. “You think I’m being careless?”

  “Depends,” Landyn answered. “You said you know your own body. What do you think?”

  I think I’ve spent years trying to get over this fear that my body was permanently scarred and I was on borrowed time. In college, I’d made sure I was the fastest tight end on the field. I’d sprinted more than the track and field guys. If I could, I got out of bounds before being touched.

  This was the NFL.

  These guys were bigger, faster, stronger. Mike’s hit wasn’t as hard as it could’ve been, but maybe I had been hit one too many times. Maybe I had aggravated my shoulder and something was wrong. I’d always been able to sleep through the ache, and it would be better after a few days. I would avoid any tackles and hits for a few days afterwards and then be fine.

  But for almost every week for the next sixteen, I wouldn’t be able to easily run out of bounds to avoid the hits. I’d have to take them, or be benched.

  Rose put a hand on my upper arm. “Do you think you’ll want to get it looked at? If you do, let me know. We’ll make sure the appropriate statement gets to the press.”

  Landyn wrapped an arm around Rose’s shoulder. “You know what she can do.” He planted a kiss on her temple. “It’ll be fine.”

  “Yeah, I know what she can do,” I said dryly. “My bruise would be a walk in the park compared to cleaning up your mess.”

  Landyn shot me a pissed look. “I resent that. You haven’t seen me stumbling out of clubs, and I’ve been attending...a program. Talking to a therapist.”

  I smiled at him. Rose had incredible influence over him. And his eight-million-dollar contract. But mainly Rose. “I know. Proud of you.”

  Of both him and Lacey, who still chose to recover at the center Landyn had moved her into. Her pancreatitis had improved since the withdrawal period had ended, but she still had a long recovery ahead of her. “You going to see Lacey this week?”

  “Tomorrow,” Rose offered. “It’d be good to see how’s she doing and if she needs anything.”

  “Tell her I said get better, and to stop sending me memes over Insta at three thirty in the morning.”

  “Three thirty!” Landyn practically shouted. “What are you doing up texting my sister?”

  Landyn Gallagher, the ever-protective older brother. I firmly believed we wouldn’t be friends if I ever took an interest in his sister. He’d nearly beaten up Sean when he’d found them together in the club the night she drunk herself unconscious before our first game.

  “Landyn,” Rose began in a tired voice, “first Casper likes Siobhan and now he’s into your sister? Relax.” She patted him on the thigh. “Lacey is probably just bored. Maybe she’s got too much energy.”
>
  “At three thirty in the morning?” he asked sourly.

  “What else do they have her doing there all day? She goes to physical therapy and exercises. Sees a therapist. Group therapy. How’s all of that supposed to last a full day?”

  “She’s got journaling, and she can walk around outside and—”

  Rose laughed. “Give it up. Didn’t she just get her phone privileges? She’s got a lot of catching up to do.”

  Landyn sighed in defeat. “Cas, you should forget Siobhan, work on your shoulder if it needs it, and...meet some women. There’s a new app—”

  Rose snapped her head in his direction. “What new app?”

  He held up his hands. “I’m not on it! This was before you.”

  Rose inched away from him.

  “Don’t you dare.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and with a barbaric grunt, yanked her back against him. She giggled when he nuzzled her neck.

  “Stop! We’re being rude.”

  “Stay next to me, then.”

  I rolled my eyes, but I was envious. Envious that Landyn had finally found someone he could spend more than one weekend with, who whipped him more than he would ever admit. I remembered being that enslaved.

  And I wanted it again.

  “You do not need to sow your oats or whatever,” Rose said with a shake of her head. “You’re great just the way you are, Casper. I think it’s romantic that you married your high school sweetheart and that your heart’s been true to her ever since. It’s sweet.”

  “It’s sick,” Landyn said in a flat tone. “You need to loosen up.”

  “No, he doesn’t!”

  “Or loosen Siobhan.” Landyn winked and made a clicking noise with his tongue. “But don’t stay with her. You’d have to deal with her boyfriend.”

  “Fiancé. And he won’t be in the picture if she’s with me.”

  “Ugh, the machismo,” Rose whined. “Are you really going to try and steal her away from her fiancé?”

  “You haven’t met Philip,” Landyn said. “He’s got a temper. It won’t be hard to steal her away from that.”

  “Tried to start fights both times I’ve seen him,” I added. “I think he’s the jealous type.”

  “Why do you say that?” Rose asked.

  “Because he seemed pretty wound up whenever I’ve been there.”

  Rose’s knowing smile had my neck hot. Given how fair-skinned I was, I was probably beet red. “Stop.”

  She giggled. “Maybe she likes you. Have you been parading your muscles around to make Phillip insecure?”

  “He doesn’t have muscles,” Landyn grumbled.

  “Oh, great, now you’re insecure.”

  “Not a chance.” Landyn redirected her focus to his face with a finger underneath her chin. He kissed her squarely on the mouth.

  And I’m out.

  I stood. “See you guys later.”

  “Where you are going?” Landyn asked with his arms stretched wide.

  “We’ve still got a half a pan of nachos here,” Rose added.

  “I’m kinda tired. I’m going to go sleep.”

  Landyn eyed me suspiciously. If I avoided his gaze, then he’d know it wasn’t about me being tired. It was them, Siobhan, my shoulder.

  I wanted to rotate my shoulder but refrained. I’d have to stretch it later on, with nobody around. I’d told everyone I was good to play.

  Can’t stop faking it now.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  LACEY

  He was the only man I could trust.

  Well, maybe Sean, but that... I didn’t have time to think about him right now.

  I watched Landyn and Rose enter my room and cross it to where I sat on my bed. Landyn had a giant grin on his face, and Rose a shy one.

  I still couldn’t believe he hadn’t dumped Rose. I’d never known Landyn to be with any girl longer than a week. He had always said they couldn’t be trusted; not really. The only women I’d ever known him to trust were me, Carmencita, and Casper’s mom.

  “Hey, sis!” Landyn landed heavily on the bed and scooped me into his muscular arms.

  I hugged him right back. His arms had been my safe harbor. I could always count on them.

  “Hey,” I said. “Thanks for coming. Hi, Rose.”

  Rose’s smile widened. “Hi, Lacey. You look really good.”

  “Better than I was in the hospital?” I snorted. “Of course I would. Why wouldn’t I?

  “What do you mean, ‘thanks for coming.’ Why the hell wouldn’t we?” Landyn leaned back and stared at me. “You think I’d leave you here?”

  I put an arm behind the back of my head and settled into the pillows. “Been watching a soap opera about some hospital, and people get put into this insane asylum and their families almost never visit.”

  Landyn sighed and shook his head. “You should be watching the telenovela Carmencita and I watch. Way more interesting.”

  “Way more over-the-top,” I replied dryly. Landyn didn’t contradict me, just stared at me. “What?” I asked somewhat forcefully.

  “Are you doing okay?” he asked softly. “How are the therapy sessions going?”

  Rose found a chair and sat. So this wasn’t going to be a short visit. Sure I wanted to see my brother—less so his girlfriend, but whatever, at least she was nice—but I didn’t want to talk about therapy. I talked enough in therapy, and out of it about therapy that the last thing I wanted to do was to be back on the subject of therapy.

  “Good.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “Uh, it means good.”

  Landyn’s lips drooped to one side, as did his head. “Lace, come on. Learning anything? Come to grips about...”

  He didn’t want to mention our father and what that man had said on television a couple of weeks ago.

  At first I...I couldn’t believe what he had said. I had cried so hard and then gotten really drunk. Ended up in the hospital.

  Now I was just mad. Really mad.

  “He came to visit.”

  “What the fu—”

  “I didn’t let him in!” I said quickly. “I refused the visit. But he came. I was told he wanted to see how I was doing.”

  “You believe him?” Landyn’s eyes went wide. I read fear there.

  He had a right to be afraid. I was the one who’d wanted a relationship with Carter Gallagher, until he’d gone on national television and basically called me a drug-addicted prostitute.

  That still stung.

  I had friends texting me because they’d seen the video on YouTube before Rose had her firm remove it. Hadn’t seen him on tv since, and Landyn hinted Rose had something to do with it, but wouldn’t say. That was one reason I should like Landyn’s girlfriend; she was good at her job, even if she was only doing it for Landyn.

  A drug-addicted prostitute. I laughed.

  “What’s so funny?” Landyn asked.

  “Carter.”

  “What?”

  “What he said...about me.”

  Landyn’s tanned face darkened. “That was not funny. At. All.”

  I shrugged. “Kinda was. He was playing to the media. Giving them a story.”

  “A salacious one,” Rose said.

  “Still, a story.” I gripped my brother’s hand. “You were right about not trusting him.”

  He nodded vigorously, squeezing my hand back. “You...remember what he did?”

  I shook my head. “Well, it comes in pieces. Like a dream. I’m not sure it’s real or not.”

  “It’s real,” he said gruffly.

  Then it was absolutely plausible that I could be a drug-addicted prostitute. What else would I be with a father who’d abused me and my brother? And we’d been too terrified to do anything about it, only finally getting out once Landyn had gotten a full ride to school. I had moved into my best friend’s home, our father too drunk all the time to even care.

  “Well...the therapist said my memories might come back, or they might not. When they do, I s
hould face them.”

  “Not gonna lie, Lace, I wish they wouldn’t.”

  I bit my lip. “There’s one memory I wish would come back.” I cautiously looked at my brother. His eyes narrowed. He wasn’t going to like this. “I...I want to know my mother.”

  He shot up from the bed and began pacing my room.

  Called it.

  “Lace...” He rubbed a hand through his dark hair, the other on his hip. “Why? Why would you want to remember her? She left. She left! And she never did anything...never called, never wrote. Hell, she didn’t even think to come get us. Who the hell does that? What kind of a mother leaves her children to her abusive husband while she escapes and lives her life?”

  Maybe he should be in therapy.

  “We don’t know what life she’s lived,” I argued. “’Cause like you said, we haven’t heard from her.”

  He stopped pacing and stared me down. “So you want to, what? Ask her how’s she’s been? See what she’s been up to all these years? Find out if she’s had a good life? Because she’s sure as hell didn’t care if we had one.”

  I slammed my fists against my bed. “I want to know why she left!”

  “We know why!” he shouted back. “Because she didn’t have the guts to stay, that’s why. She wasn’t helpless like we were. She saw an opportunity and she took it. She’s a survivor.”

  “Then we have that in common,” I spat back.

  My brother could be irritatingly stubborn. His opinion was the only one that mattered; the only one that held any weight to it, like it was a damn fact. And that was what made all of this worse. How could I convince him that this was what I needed to heal? He didn’t need to know who his mother was, because he remembered her.

  I didn’t.

  I didn’t have the luxury of choosing to hate her in order to become a more well-adjusted member of society. I didn’t know her enough to come to any sort of conclusion. Going off of my brother’s opinion...he was too biased.

  “I want to see her,” I said quietly.

  My brother turned away.

  “You’ve thought about this?” Rose asked. “Your therapist...what does he or she say?”

  “She says it’ll probably be good for me.” Landyn snorted. I ignored him. “She said talking to her might give me some sort of closure. Help me understand things more.”