Skin in the Game

by Jackie Barbosa

  “Oh, definitely not,” she said earnestly. “I like Jesse Ventura.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Now I’m worried about your taste in men,” he teased.

  “Hey, he’s never boring. You have to give him that.”

  “He’s also a few fish short of a fry, but never mind that. I don’t believe you’re any more shy or retiring than I am. I remember what you were like in high school, you know.”

  She grimaced. “You mean dorky and plain?”

  “No, I mean smart and confident. You came right up to me after that first game of the season and told me exactly why we were going to lose in spite of the fact that I was the best high school quarterback in the state. Although, come to think of it, you were probably just flattering me when you said that last bit. You couldn’t have known I was the best; you hadn’t seen every high school quarterback in the state play.”

  Her cheeks colored. It hardly seemed possible, but he was fairly certain she was even more beautiful when she blushed.

  “God, I can’t believe you remember that. I really hoped you didn’t.”

  “Why? I thought you were brilliant.”

  “No, you didn’t. You thought I was a weird freshman girl with a horrible crush on you.

  And you were right.”

  “You had a crush on me?” He’d never had an inkling. The way she’d talked to him back then, it had never occurred to him that she was like other girls. She hadn’t acted like other girls, whose only interest in football seemed to be in the tight pants. That was probably why he remembered her, in fact. She’d been different.

  She looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “Of course I had a crush on you. Everyone did.

  Well, every girl, anyway.”

  “You’re exaggerating.”

  “No, I’m not. You were Homecoming King, you know. Or did you manage to forget that little detail?”

  “Of course not, but I was the quarterback of the football team. My only competition was the senior class president, and Matthew Thibodeaux was a douche. He only won the presidency because no one else was running.”

  “Well, you’re right about one thing,” Angie said with a wry laugh.

  Cade raised his eyebrows. “Only one?”

  “Yeah. Matthew Thibodeaux was a douche. And still is.”

  ***

  She hadn’t intended to tell him about Matthew Thibodeaux, but Cade’s unsolicited and accurate opinion of their former classmate’s character had reminded her of that very bad dating mistake in her past and loosened her tongue, Cade was adorably offended on her behalf and vowed to take Thibodeaux out behind a woodshed if it would make her feel better. The idea made Angie laugh, but as richly as the jerk deserved it, she wasn’t a bloodthirsty sort of person, despite her love of football.

  Later, she couldn’t remember what else they’d talked about over the course of the most delicious meal she’d ever eaten. All she knew was that she’d never enjoyed a “date” more. By the time they left the restaurant several hours later, she was beginning to imagine that maybe they might have a future beyond this weekend. New York was big and noisy and crowded, but it wasn’t quite as intimidating as she’d feared. Of course, she could never move here—not with both her job and her father back in Harper Falls—but she could fly up to visit Cade once every few weeks, and he could come to see her, especially during the off-season. How long that would work, she didn’t know, but if being with him made her feel like this, it would be worth the effort.

  And then, as they stepped out into the street, dozens of flash bulbs went off.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “I’m sorry about all that,” Cade said when they were safely back in the hotel suite. “I didn’t think anyone knew I was in town. I should have realized the press would find out and track me down.”

  He was going to give Jacques a piece of his mind the next time he saw him. He had no doubt the maître’d was the one who’d contacted the press. And under any other circumstances, Cade probably would have been grateful for the attention. As it was…

  Angie walked toward the bedroom, pulling pins out of her hair as she went. “It’s not your fault. I should have expected it, really. You are famous.”

  Something in her tone of voice worried him. He followed her into the bedroom. She stood with her back to him, shaking out her hair.

  “That doesn’t happen every time I go out, you know. It’s only because they’re speculating about whether or not I’m going to be playing for the Jets.”

  “I know.” She turned to face him. Her expression was more resigned than angry. “I can’t blame them, either. It was just…startling, that’s all.”

  Cade knew it was more than that. What was it she’d said? That she was the shy and retiring kind of Minnesotan. It was one thing to be recognized for her talent and skill as a football coach, but being a celebrity probably seemed to her like a form of torture. And that was what being with him would make her.

  Damn it, of all the times for the paparazzi to chase him down, why did they have to choose tonight? On the other hand, after more than a year of obscurity, he had to admit to being a tiny bit pleased to be back in the limelight.

  “Once I announce my decision, the media will settle down,” he said. To a point, anyway.

  Standing beside the bed, she gave him a sultry smile and kicked off her shoes. “I’m sure they will.” She crossed the space between them and wrapped her arms around his neck. “But maybe we should consider staying in for the rest of the weekend.”

  Cade loosened his tie. “I couldn’t agree more.”

  He’d convince her tomorrow that being famous wasn’t as terrible as she thought it would be. Right after he reminded her how fabulous they were together.

  ***

  Cade spent the better part of the following day showing Angie just how good they were together.

  In bed…and in the in-room Jacuzzi and on a chair in the dining room.

  Now, with less than an hour left before they had to leave for the airport to make their flight, they sat together on the couch, Cade clad in a pair of jeans and Angie wrapped in one of the hotel’s plush white robes, watching the Jets play the afternoon game on the widescreen TV.

  They were god awful.

  Angie winced as the Jets’ current quarterback was sacked for the sixth time. “Are you sure you want to play for this team?” she asked dubiously. “Their o-line couldn’t block a blitzing linebacker with a barn door.”

  “It’s not entirely their fault,” Cade pointed out, sliding his fingers through her hair.

  “Maddox is holding onto the ball way too long. They can’t block the defense forever.”

  “That’s because none of the receivers are getting open or coming back to the ball.” She looked at him, worry twisting her stomach. “You’d be way safer if you went with the Vikings.”

  “You know I can’t do that. I won’t take Warren’s job the way mine was taken from me.”

  “Who’s to say he wouldn’t want you to? From what I saw in the paper the other day, his injuries are serious. He’s going to be out at least a season, maybe longer.” Maybe forever.

  “Which is exactly what happened to me. Out one season and out of the starting position for good. I don’t blame anyone for it—it’s the game and the business—but I can’t do that to one of my best friends. However long it takes Warren to get back in the game, someone may be standing between him and his job, but it won’t be me. Besides, the Jets are a better career move for me. I’ll be the starter there, not just filling Warren’s shoes until he gets back.”

  Angie fell silent. She knew he was right. The Jets needed a solid, experienced quarterback. As bad as they’d looked so far this season, their biggest problem was lack of a solid performer at the helm. A good quarterback who could read and respond to defensive schemes improved the play of everyone else on the team, and Cade was as skilled in that department as any of the big-name quarterbacks in the league. This season was probably a lost cause, given
the Jets’ current record, but with all their young talent, she could see them in the playoffs next season and possibly even in the Super Bowl down the line. The Vikings might get him to a Super Bowl this season, but then what?

  She ought to be pleased for him. But selfishly, she was thinking only of herself and how much she would hate being subjected on a regular basis to the kind of attention they’d drawn last night. Despite what he’d said, she knew the paparazzi wouldn’t leave him alone once he accepted the Jets’ offer. She’d seen the tabloids; until his injury in the middle of last season, Cade had a staple in their pages, his exploits both on and off the field a source of endless fascination. A lot of that interest had been due to the models and actresses he’d dated, although it didn’t hurt that he looked like a movie star himself. But once he was with the Jets, he’d become a major celebrity in his own right, and the press attention would certainly not go away just because he was dating a nobody like her.

  “We should pack and get dressed,” Cade said softly against her hair. “Our flight’s in two hours.”

  She nodded. Not that she had much to pack. Just a gorgeous dress she’d never wear again and the shoes to go with it.

  “Maybe we should take a shower first, though,” he added, feathering his lips across her temple and down her cheek to her mouth.

  Angie found she couldn’t disagree with that suggestion, either.

  ###

  Hot water pounded Angie’s back as she clasped her legs around Cade’s hips. He braced himself against the tiled wall, his hands cradling her ass, holding her steady as he drove his cock inside her. Their mouths met in desperate, hungry kisses. Angie wanted to savor the moment, to commit every nuance of this final coupling to memory, but there was too much to take in at once—the slippery smoothness of his skin, the tangy-sweet taste of his tongue, the relentless cadence of his thrusts. It couldn’t last long enough, and it didn’t. She climaxed before she was ready, fast and hard, shivering despite the steamy heat of the shower. With a groan of surrender, Cade came seconds later.

  “Jesus, Ange,” he muttered against her lips when the shudders of his orgasm had subsided enough to permit speech, “what is it about you that I can’t go slow?”

  “I didn’t think slow was an option,” she said, her respiration still rapid and uneven. “We have a plane to catch, you know.” She kept her tone light despite her heavy heart.

  His head dropped back against the tiles, and he closed his eyes. “Ugh. Don’t remind me.”

  She tried to unwrap her legs from around his hips, but he held her steady. “Um, Cade…?”

  He opened his eyes, and the intensity of the expression in them made her shiver again.

  “I’m not ready for this to be over, Angie.”

  She knew he didn’t just mean the weekend. “I’m not, either,” she admitted.

  “Then we’ll make it work. I’m not sure how, but there has to be a way.”

  He bent his head to kiss her, and she turned her face up to meet him. There was no way to make it work—not in the long run, anyway—but she wasn’t going to argue that point now.

  Instead, she was just going to let him kiss her and pretend it would never end.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The first hint of trouble came on Monday morning. Angie started to put her cell phone in her purse before leaving for work, then realized she’d never turned it on again after getting off the plane. When she powered it up, she was greeted by a breathless—and ominous—voice mail message from Rachel.

  “Oh my God, Angie, you and Cade were on Entertainment Tonight and the local news.

  You’re famous! And by the way, you looked awesome. Where did you get that dress you were wearing? It’s fabulous. Call me a-sap.”

  Of course Rachel would think this was fabulous news; most people probably would. Most people wanted their fifteen minutes of fame and would take it any way they could get it. But most people weren’t high school teachers in a small town with a decidedly archaic sense of morality.

  Angie closed her eyes and pressed the cool screen of the phone against her forehead. Of all the disasters she’d imagined, this was the last one she’d anticipated.

  With a heavy sigh, she deleted the message and pushed the end button on her cell. If she was lucky, the principal and the school board hadn’t seen the news last night. If she were even luckier, people who had seen it wouldn’t mention the fact that she’d clearly been in another city late at night with a man who was both her boss—at least on paper—and, more damning, not her husband.

  Except, of course, she wasn’t lucky. As soon as her first student walked through the classroom door, Angie knew she was doomed.

  “Oh, Miss Peterson,” Jenna Donnelly squealed, “I saw you on TV last night. You’re so lucky. Cade Reynolds is soooo hot!”

  Before Angie could think of a suitable way to respond to this, Trevor Marten, who was not only in her class but played cornerback for the football team, came into the room and gave her a wide grin. “Way to go, Coach Pete!”

  Crap, crap, crap.

  It took ten minutes longer than usual to get the class settled down because all the students wanted to talk about was her trip to New York and the fact that she’d been on TV. Her second period class was no less interested in discussing the story, and by third period, it was apparent that everyone in the school had either seen the clip or heard about it from someone else. This meant it was no surprise when, in the break between third and fourth period, the school secretary delivered a note from the principal requesting Angie’s presence in his office during lunch.

  When fourth period ended, Angie made her way straight to Jim Calhoun’s office. She saw no point in delaying the inevitable. When she arrived, the principal was sitting at his desk, cradling the phone against his shoulder as he shuffled through a stack of papers. He motioned for her to come in and sit down while he continued talking.

  “Yes, I know it’s unprecedented.” Pause. “No, I don’t think that’s an accurate assessment of the situation.” Pause. “She’s sitting right here. Let me call you back.”

  Oh, great.

  The principal set the phone back in the cradle and looked up at her. In his mid-fifties and balding, Calhoun usually projected the aura of a kindly uncle but was quite capable of turning into a drill sergeant when necessary. These qualities made him an effective administrator because no one, from the staff to the students, wanted to disappoint the uncle and turn him into the drill sergeant.

  “That was Anton Rodgers’s mother,” he said. “She’s concerned about the example you’re setting for her son. I’ve been fielding calls like that all morning.”

  Angie willed herself to remain calm. She’d been expecting this. The fact that it was medieval, sexist, and unfair didn’t matter. “I’m sorry. I had no idea that Cade and I would be photographed or that we’d wind up on TV.”

  The principal nodded sympathetically. “I’m on your side here. You’re far and away the best math teacher I’ve ever known, and you’ve done a heck of a job with the football team. I don’t want to lose you, either as a teacher or a coach. Unfortunately, that decision isn’t up to me, but to the board.”

  “The board is involved? Already?”

  “For every phone call I’ve gotten today from a concerned parent, the school board has gotten three. They’ve called an emergency meeting for tonight at six. And they want you and your union rep to be there to answer the charges.”

  Angie stared at her boss in disbelief. She’d known this would be bad; she just hadn’t though it would be this bad. “All this over a picture of Cade Reynolds and me outside a restaurant in New York?”

  “It’s more than that, I’m afraid.” Calhoun closed his eyes and pressed his thumb and index finger over them before continuing. “Chuck Donnelly has made some rather disturbing allegations. He claims to have caught you and Reynolds in…well, in flagrante. Several times and in public places. Places where you might easily have been seen by students.”

&n
bsp; Oh God. She was an idiot not to have seen that Donnelly would find a way to use this against her. And he didn’t even have to tell an outright lie to make his charges stick.

  “Is it true?” the principal asked gently.

  Angie grimaced. “He caught us kissing. Once in the school parking lot and once outside the hospital.”

  Mention of the hospital made her think of Jake Hanssen, and guilt assailed her. She hadn’t thought of him once that whole weekend. All she’d thought about was herself.

  “Just kissing?”

  Kissing like we couldn’t wait to get into each other’s pants. “Yes.”

  “Well, he made it sound considerably more lurid than that when he told me this morning he was going to report you, but if you’re telling the truth, that may help you with the board. Your personal life really shouldn’t be anyone’s business but your own.”

  But it was everyone’s business in a small town, and the worst part of the whole thing was she knew it. This entire situation was perfectly predictable, utterly preventable. Foolish as she’d been to embark on what she’d imagined would be a one-night stand with Cade Reynolds, she’d been orders of magnitude more foolish to agree to spending a weekend with him. Even if they hadn’t gone to New York, what were the chances that they could keep their relationship a secret for any length of time? The answer was slim, fat, and none. And since there was absolutely no likelihood of their affair leading to marriage, which was the only acceptable outcome of an acknowledged sexual liaison for a high school teacher, she should never have allowed any of this to happen.

  “Maybe it shouldn’t be, but it is,” she said. “So, am I suspended until the board makes its decision?”

  Calhoun frowned unhappily. “I’m afraid so. But I think you have a good chance of being reinstated if you tell the board what you’ve told me. I’ve already registered my objection to the morality clause being used this way and expressed my support for you personally, so that might count for something.”