Kickoff

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Kickoff Page 15

by Jami Davenport


  “You drive a hard bargain.” Derek swallowed and grinned.

  “I know.” Ryan rolled the ball around in his hands.

  Derek liked the kid. He had guts and a good attitude. As Ryan’s teammates and coaches stood back and watched, he ran a few routes for him and caught the kid’s wobbly passes.

  “I’m a little rusty,” Ryan apologized when Derek had to dive across the wet grass to catch a pass thrown short.

  Brushing grass from his shirt, Derek grinned and patted the kid on the back. “You’re doing just fine, buddy.”

  ~ ~ ~ ~

  That evening, Derek drove his big-assed, expensive truck to Rachel’s house. He jammed it in park and shut it off. Sitting in the dark, he stared at nothing. God, it hurt seeing a kid like that. Derek soaked it up like a sponge until the pain filled every crack and crevice, and he couldn’t breathe anymore.

  Lord, he couldn’t take this. Just because he had this gift of speed and good hands didn’t mean he could fix everything wrong with this world. Yet for some reason, he felt like he should. Pissed at his vulnerability and the unfairness of it all, he stared at Rachel’s dark house and attempted to make sense of it all. Shutting his eyes, he rested his forehead on the steering wheel. A lone tear escaped and ran down his cheek. He never cried. He swiped angrily at his face, pissed as hell at his weakness.

  Never.

  But the reality of it hit him hard in his gut. This kid, barely eighteen, would not see another birthday.

  Don’t get involved. Stay away. Getting close to people hurt too much. Too bad about Ryan, but he’d been a good guy and done his duty. Let someone else handle the really tough stuff.

  He heard a soft tap on his window. He stiffened. Forcing his face into an emotionless mask, he lifted his head and rolled down the window.

  “Dare, are you okay?” Rachel stood there in a bathrobe, worry lines etched on her sweet face.

  “I’m fine. I had to see you.”

  She touched a finger to his cheek, and it almost undid him. “Dare?”

  “I shouldn’t have come here.” Damn, his voice shook.

  She wrapped her hand around the back of his neck and brushed her lips across his. “You’re a good man, Derek Ramsey.”

  “Am I?” He didn’t feel like one. He felt helpless and ineffectual.

  “You are.”

  He turned his head away, unable to stomach the adoration in her eyes. He didn’t deserve it.

  “It’s about Ryan, isn’t it?”

  “How did you know?”

  “Mitch called. He mentioned you came by and spent a couple of hours with his team.”

  “Ryan’s a good kid.”

  “Come in the house, and we’ll talk.”

  Silently, he got out of the truck and followed her into the house. He sat at one of her kitchen counter stools. Rachel placed a glass of ice water in front of him, then took the stool next to him.

  “Did Mitch fill you in on his background? It’s so tragic.”

  He didn’t want to hear this, but he waited.

  “His dad’s in prison. They’ve never met. His mom works nights as a bartender. She’s not around much, not a very involved parent. Ever since Ryan got cancer, she’s really not been there for him. I guess you could say Mitch has been his father figure these past few years.”

  “He’s lucky to have a guy like Mitch looking out for him.”

  “I know. My brother is a great guy.”

  “He’s suspicious of us.”

  “Unfortunately, he is.”

  “He told me I owed your dad and to do the right thing. Is that how you feel too? Even after all that’s happened between us?”

  Rachel’s face turned fog gray. Shutters slammed down over her eyes, but not before he glimpsed what almost appeared to be panic. “I’m working on it.”

  “Rachel, I can’t explain my reasons. There are things you don’t know and are better off not knowing. You have to trust that I’d have defended him if I could’ve.” He knew his cryptic explanation only made her more anxious and confused, but he’d said all he was going to say on the subject. Her father’s involvement in point-shaving was one more nail in their relationship’s coffin.

  “Now’s not the time to discuss this anyway,” she conceded. “I’m more concerned about how you’re doing.”

  “I’m doing okay.”

  For a moment, they stared at each other. He needed her and wondered if his eyes conveyed his pain and confusion.

  “I guess I should be going. It’s late. We both have to be up early.”

  “You’re not staying alone tonight.” Rachel wrapped her fingers around his arm.

  “I’m not?” Easily swayed, he moved closer, putting his hands on her shoulders.

  “No, you’re not.”

  He almost smiled.

  Warmth spread throughout his body and took away the chill. She filled an emptiness he never knew existed. When he was with her, he actually believed a miracle would happen, and everything would work out just fine, even though he knew deep down miracles didn’t happen.

  Chapter 19—Rooting for the Underdog

  Derek and Rachel made wild and desperate love as if the world wouldn’t be there tomorrow. Rachel gave him everything she had, and Derek gave it right back. Once they were stripped of their defenses, raw emotions boiled to the surface and overwhelmed with their sheer power.

  Afterward, Derek clung to her with a need he rarely, if ever, revealed. Inside, Rachel bled for him and for the teenager who didn’t deserve his fate. And she teetered on the edge of falling way too far in love with the very wrong man. A man full of contradictions. This man gave so much to others and asked so little in return. Yet the same man had turned his back on her when she’d professed her love in college and had done the same to her dad when Dave McCormick needed him most.

  He was the man who could ruin her career, yet she couldn’t stay away from him. Lately, she’d had other disturbing doubts. She was so close to realizing her dream of being a pro coach, but she was mired in doubt as to whether or not coaching was the right choice for her. She could be in the scouting department and concentrate on the parts of the job she loved most, the actual coaching aspect being the part of the job she liked the least.

  Nothing made sense anymore. She’d live in denial a little while longer, but an inevitable end hovered on the horizon and moved closer every day.

  Rolling onto his back, Derek shut his eyes. For the longest time, Rachel listened to his steady breathing, yet she suspected he wasn’t asleep.

  “Dare?” She turned onto her side and stroked his bulging biceps.

  “Yeah?”

  “Are you okay?”

  He chuckled. “We just had mind-blowing sex. Of course I’m okay.”

  “Was it really?”

  “Really what?”

  “Mind-blowing?”

  He rolled onto his side and propped his head up with a hand. “You have to ask that question? You couldn’t tell?”

  She smiled. “I could tell. I just like to hear it.”

  He wound a lock of her auburn hair around one of those long fingers of his. “You have the most beautiful hair.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I like it all messed up like this.”

  “We worked hard to get my hair looking like this.”

  “We sure did.” His mouth quirked in one corner with his trademark lopsided grin. She swatted him.

  “Crawl out of that gutter, mister.”

  “I like the gutter. It feels like home.”

  Lately, Rachel could relate to that. Maybe she’d slide right back down into that gutter with him.

  Home, sweet home.

  Flipping to his back, Derek took Rachel with him, pulling her across his chest. She cuddled close. He ran his fingers up and down her spine as if gently taking inventory of each vertebra.

  “You know, Rae, I feel like I’m living the old adage: be careful what you wish for.”

  “How so?”

&nbs
p; “I thought once we started winning and I started playing well, all my problems would be solved. Instead, success created a whole different set of challenges I never anticipated.”

  “Like Ryan?”

  “Yeah. Kids like Ryan. They’re everywhere.” It broke his heart, she could tell. He couldn’t visit them all and couldn’t cure the ones he met. He was just one guy.

  “You do the best you can. All we can do is change the world one person at a time.”

  “Maybe, but inside I’m as screwed up as the next guy. What gives me the right to think I can help someone when I can’t help myself?”

  “You did help him. You gave him a little bit of joy; you showed him someone cares. He’ll cherish those memories.”

  He stared at her, his expression dark and haunted. What was he thinking? Was he wondering how long Ryan would have to cherish those memories? Or was he thinking of his own mistakes? Regrets? Or was he thinking of her? About when they should end this because they both knew it had to end? She wasn’t sure she wanted to know. Not yet.

  Rachel buried her face in his chest and held tight.

  ~ ~ ~ ~

  For a long moment, Derek sat in his truck and stared at the football field. The guys were going through their drills. Mitch and his coaches barked orders from the sidelines.

  Despite his intentions to stay away, here he was a week later.

  Panic set in as he scanned the field for Ryan and his wheelchair and couldn’t locate him. His heart dived through the floorboards of his truck. He clutched the steering wheel and leaned forward, dissecting every part of the field. He spotted Ryan half-hidden behind a group of players and coaches and breathed a sigh of relief.

  Thank God.

  This was crazy. What was he doing here? He needed to stay away. He had enough going on without taking on another responsibility, another worry. If he had thirty waking hours in his day, it wouldn’t be enough.

  Yet Ryan struck a need deep inside him. Perhaps he recognized a kindred spirit. Maybe he needed Ryan’s quiet strength and positive attitude more than Ryan needed him. Steeling himself for another confrontation with Rachel’s disapproving brother, he opened the truck door and hopped out.

  Walking across the field, he ignored the surprised stares of the coaches and team. Mitch approached him, not too welcoming, but then he hadn’t expected a red carpet. “Did you lose something?”

  Derek shook his head. “Nope, just had a few minutes, thought I’d stop by and check in. How’re things going?”

  He wasn’t fooling Mitch. His eyes flicked to Ryan and back again. “He’s had better days, but he’s hanging in there.”

  Derek nodded and rubbed his eyes. Damn, he was tired. “When’s your next home game?”

  “Friday night.” Mitch eyed him suspiciously, as if he suspected Derek had some selfish, ulterior motive.

  He hadn’t shown up with the press in tow, nor did he demand a favor in return. He’d come simply because he couldn’t stay away, couldn’t stop thinking of Ryan.

  “How many seniors are on your team?”

  “Eighteen, counting Ryan.” Mitch’s mouth pulled into a grim line as if he was trying to figure out what was in this for Derek.

  “Tell them to keep Sunday free. I’ll have tickets delivered to your office later this week.”

  “You don’t need to do that.”

  “No, I don’t, but I want to.”

  “You guys are the hottest thing in the Northwest right now. How are you going to get that many tickets?”

  Derek raised one eyebrow, almost smiled. “I have connections.”

  “I still don’t want you sniffing around my sister.” Mitch looked away, dug in his pocket for some gum, popped it in his mouth, and chewed furiously.

  “I can understand your concern,” Derek said unemotionally, and Mitch chose to leave it at that.

  Derek hung out for the rest of the practice, gave the team some tips, and shot the breeze with Ryan. He talked with the coaches afterward, then finally trudged out to the empty parking lot. Ryan sat in his wheelchair near his truck, talking on his cell. Derek concealed his surprise and approached the kid. He glanced over his shoulder. Mitch hadn’t come out of the building yet.

  “Need a ride?”

  Ryan glanced up at him. “I can get a ride from Coach. My mom can’t make it.”

  “I have time. I’ll give you a ride home.”

  Ryan hesitated. “I don’t know.”

  “Hey, I’m a decent driver. You’ll be safe with me. Let’s go.” Derek motioned toward the truck, not taking no for an answer.

  “Are you sure?” Ryan chewed on his lower lip and looked away.

  “I’m not only sure, but I insist.”

  ~ ~ ~ ~

  Ryan was torn. Torn between spending a little private time with his hero and letting him see the squalor and poverty that was part of Ryan’s life.

  In the end, Derek helped him into his truck and stowed the wheelchair in the truck bed.

  “Do your parents come to all your games?” Ryan tilted his head at Derek.

  “Never missed a game in high school or a home game in college. They’ve made it to a few Steelheads games. It’s hard for Dad to get away from the ranch.”

  “You have a ranch?”

  “Yeah, it’s been in my family for a couple of generations.”

  “So, are you a real cowboy?”

  Derek chuckled. “Actually, I am. My dad put me on a horse before I could walk. I did high school rodeo too.”

  “Wow. I’ve never been on a horse.”

  “Stop by sometime. I’ll put you on my old guy. He’s real safe.”

  “Really? You’d do that?”

  Derek smiled. “Absolutely. So, Ryan, where’s home?”

  Ryan’s home was a single-wide in a trailer park a few miles from the school. He gave Derek directions, and they were there in no time.

  “This is it.” Ryan waited for the pity or repulsion that accompanied a visitor’s first visit to the dump.

  Derek didn’t blink or do a double take. Instead, he got out of the truck, grabbed Ryan’s wheelchair, and helped him into it.

  “I, uh, Derek, I need help getting into the house. We don’t have a ramp.”

  “You don’t have a ramp?” Derek’s gaze slid to the front door.

  “No.” Ryan ducked his head, embarrassed. “My mom can’t afford to pay anyone to do it.”

  “So, once you’re in there, you’re stuck?”

  “Yeah, pretty much.” Ryan chewed on his lower lip. He hated this feeling of helplessness. Only a few short months ago, he ran laps with the guys, threw passes, took hits, and bounced right back. Not anymore. This shit invading his body made it damn fucking hard for a guy not to wallow in self-pity, but Ryan refused to succumb. He was a fighter, not a quitter like his mom and dad.

  Derek helped him into the trailer. He glanced around. His face betrayed nothing, no reaction to the dishes piled in the sink, littering the counters, stuff scattered on the floor, laundry slung across the couch, and the numerous cigarettes falling out of various bowls and ashtrays onto the soiled thirty-year-old shag carpet. Turning back to Ryan, he scratched something on a piece of paper, handing it to him.

  “What’s this?”

  “My numbers. You need me, you call me. I don’t care what time it is.”

  “Thanks.”

  “It’s my pleasure. You need anything else, buddy?”

  “No, I’m fine.”

  “You got dinner?”

  “I’ll find something. My mom’s working tonight.” He made excuses for his mother because he didn’t know what else to do. No one needed to know he rarely saw his mother. They wouldn’t understand. They’d blame her for being a bad mother. He didn’t know if she was any better or worse than any other mother. She was the only mother he had.

  He looked up to find Derek studying him. “Tell you what, Ryan. I’m free tonight. How about I order us a pizza, and we catch a football game on TV?”

  Ry
an tamped down the hope rising inside him. How cool to not spend another lonely night at home and to hang with Derek Ramsey. Not that his buddies didn’t come by pretty often and hang with him, but they had their girlfriends and their own families.

  He swallowed his pride and cleared his throat. “That’d be cool.”

  ~ ~ ~ ~

  Rachel pushed Derek’s hand away from her crotch. “Not tonight, big boy.” His puzzled expression said it all.

  “What?”

  “No, you’re dead on your feet.”

  “If I’m not buried six feet under, I’m not that dead.”

  “Derek.” She put her hands on both sides of his face and forced him to look her in the eyes. He avoided the subject with sex. Not tonight. She refused to play into it. He wanted to play the invincible macho man. Not happening.

  “Come on, Rae.” He reached for her again, but halfheartedly.

  “Dare, stop. I know how tired you are, the hours you’re keeping. You can’t say no to anyone.” It was as if he felt guilty because his life had turned out so well. Or was he making up for past transgressions?

  “Saying no doesn’t work for me. I won’t disappoint people or let them down.”

  Derek went out of his way to make people like him, always had. Even as a teenager, he’d liked everyone, been kind to the nerdiest geek, and defended the weak kids from harassment. He couldn’t handle rejection from anyone. It didn’t take a psychologist to know Derek’s mother played a large role in this particular insecurity.

  “I thought you were having an early night tonight?”

  “I was. I stopped by your brother’s football practice to check on Ryan. I ended up driving him home and ordering pizza and watching a football game with him.”

  “Oh, Derek.” No wonder he’d seemed so drained and lost when he’d shown up on her doorstep at eleven.

  “Do you know he lives in a dump of a trailer? He doesn’t even have a wheelchair ramp, so once he’s in the house, he can’t get out. I’m going to get a couple of the guys together, and we’ll head over there after practice and build one. It shouldn’t take too long.”

 

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