~ ~ ~ ~
Tyler slumped in the backseat and pouted. Derek ignored him. Rachel slid into the passenger seat and winked at Derek. He smiled down at her and wondered how the hell he ever got so lucky as to have her in his life, even if it was a temporary situation. He looked in the rearview mirror as he pulled onto the highway. Behind him were a half-dozen teammates in two trucks.
He’d invited Rachel along because he thought it might be weird if he didn’t. After all, he met Ryan through her brother, so it made sense she’d be present as representative of the coaching staff.
“Hey, none of that crap while I’m fucking stuck being celibate.” Tyler leaned between the seats and tapped Derek on the shoulder.
“If you’re being celibate, it’s your choice. How long has it been—twenty-four hours?” Derek laughed out loud.
Tyler growled and flopped back against the seat. “You don’t want to know.”
“You’re probably right. Your sex life isn’t a particular interest of mine.”
“How the fuck long is this going to fucking take?” Tyler kicked the back of Derek’s seat like an impatient little kid.
“However long it takes.”
“I don’t know why the fuck I let you talk me into this shit.”
“So you can impress me with your command of four-letter words?”
“Fuck off and go to hell. You know I don’t do this charity crap unless the press is there to record what a good guy I am.”
“Whoa. You’re losing your touch, Ty. You just said one sentence without the F-word.” Derek snorted and gave Rachel the side-eye. She shoved her knuckles in her mouth to keep from cracking up. Derek reached over and put his hand on her thigh.
“Fuck you,” Tyler grumbled.
“That’s more like it.”
Tyler muttered several choice four-letter words and stuffed earphones in his ears, cranked up his MP3 player, and ignored them.
Two hours later, they finished the wheelchair ramp, which actually looked much better than the ratty mobile home it serviced. Rachel, with a few players’ help, cleaned the small trailer.
Embarrassed by his living conditions, Ryan had been reluctant to have them there at first. But the group’s nonjudgmental attitude coaxed him out of his funk, and he had the time of his life, hosting an impromptu party. Whether he called his buddies or they happened to show up, pretty soon about two dozen kids, mostly teammates, milled around the porch.
Ryan’s eyes sparkled with excitement as he posed with his friends for pictures with the Steelheads players. Even Tyler roused himself from his grouchy slump. He didn’t do much work, but he did amuse Ryan and the group with outrageous stories of his heroic exploits on and off the field.
Afterward, they ate pizza and drank soft drinks, then cleaned up their mess.
It was close to midnight by the time Derek and Rachel fell into bed. Derek didn’t remember much after that until his alarm woke him at five thirty.
Chapter 20—Bringing in the Chains
Rachel was enjoying takeout with Derek at her house. This thing between them had grown into a full-blown relationship before either one knew what was happening. They had so many excuses to be together, no one appeared suspicious it was more than that. Rachel wasn’t sure how they’d pulled it off, but so far, so good.
She actually felt pretty transparent most of the time, certain the entire world knew exactly what was going on, and the joke was on them. Tyler appeared to know, of course, and Cass, but neither would voice their suspicions to anyone else.
They were playing a dangerous game building their house of cards to the ceiling and hoping it wouldn’t fall. Eventually, it had to fall. They couldn’t keep doing this indefinitely. The end of the season was their deadline. After that, something had to happen. Rachel thought she’d been clear on that something, but as time went on, the situation was clear as mud. She’d had it planned initially, make Derek a star, get kudos from the staff and a permanent job with the team. Now she knew her plan had a serious flaw. She couldn’t continue working long-term for the team while having a relationship with Derek. Nor could she see him every day and not want him.
One step at a time, she warned herself. Get through the season, get a job offer, and then deal with Derek. Where there was one job offer, there’d be others if things worked out. She’d miss HughJack and the other staff members, but a girl had to do what a girl had to do.
She glanced up from her Kung Pao chicken to find Derek regarding her thoughtfully as he chewed. He swallowed, opened his mouth to say something, snapped it shut, and opened it again.
“We can’t keep ignoring the elephant in the room.”
“By elephant, you mean my position with the team and our future?”
“Well, there is that elephant, but I was referring to a different, larger elephant.” Sadness darkened his brown eyes, and he looked down at his plate for a long while as if gathering his thoughts.
“What one would that be?” She regarded him warily as she gnawed on a piece of barbecue pork.
“What are we doing here, Rae?”
From her head to her toenails, Rachel’s body froze. Her tongue tied in a knot bigger than a Christmas bow, while her stomach churned like an angry sea in a storm. Rachel pressed her lips together, afraid of screwing things up by saying the wrong thing. Conflicting thoughts rioted in her head.
“What do you think we’re doing here?” she responded, volleying the ball back into his court.
“I think we’re playing with fire. This can’t continue as it is, but I don’t want to end it, nor do you.”
“That about sums it up.”
“If you get that coaching job…” He didn’t finish the sentence. They both knew the answer. They were through.
“I know. Whatever you want to call this ends when I’m hired. We should end it sooner, but I can’t.”
“Yeah.” His eyes filled with sorrow, as if the world was ending, and he had advance knowledge of its demise. His broad shoulders slumped under the weight of the burden he was carrying. She understood. She was carrying the same weight. They weren’t deceptive people.
“I pride myself on being honest, having integrity, being someone who keeps my word. This is so wrong yet feels so right. I’m conflicted, but I’m committed. You’re my girlfriend, Rae, in every sense of the word. I want to shout it to the mountaintops. I want to blow you kisses on the sidelines. I want to be at your side at charity events. We can’t do any of these things, and I feel cheated.”
“So do I,” she said glumly.
“Do you think there’s a chance we could find a way to work this out?”
“Not if I want a career in professional football. A coach cannot have a relationship with a player, no matter what team he’s on. It’s a violation of ethics and a conflict of interest.” But did she really want to coach?
“I get that. I keep trying to work things out in my head, but all roads lead back to the same conclusion.”
“And that is?”
“We don’t have a future, do we?”
“No, we don’t.”
Rachel should’ve stayed on the sidelines, but her heart had gotten into the game and kept fumbling the ball. Ignoring her head’s warnings, she called her own audibles.
She’d fallen for Derek again, if she’d ever fallen out of love with him. Now the ball was in play, and she wished her head had blown the whistle.
If ever a play needed to be blown dead, it was this one.
~ ~ ~ ~
A few hours later, Derek stared at a sleeping Rachel and tried to sort out his feelings. Right about now, he should feel the trap closing on him. He’d tied himself to her for the rest of the season in more ways than one.
And when the season ended, what if he had fallen in love with Rachel? Was he even capable of love? Love like his dad had with his stepmom? Love that overcame all odds, stood the test of time, and all that romantic crap he’d always blown off as nothing but bullshit? What if he was just flat-out fucking n
uts?
Somewhere buried under all his false confidence was a frightened, lonely little boy who swore he would never put himself in a position to be hurt by someone he loved.
It’d taken him years to let his guard down enough to allow his stepmother into his heart. She’d been persistent and relentless in her campaign to become a part of his life. His sister had embraced her from the moment his father started dating her. Not Derek. He’d been polite but distant, always holding a part of himself away. But then, he still did, from everyone. Even with his family, the people he trusted most in his life, he still kept something inside.
The only outcome for him would be another broken heart and a heavier dose of guilt. The only viable solution would be for one of them to leave their dreams behind. He couldn’t do that to her, and she couldn’t do that to him. She was on the verge of being one of the few female professional coaches in football. He couldn’t take that away from her. She’d worked her cute little ass off to get this far. But then again, so had he. They both deserved success.
If ever a couple was star-crossed, they were it. Not only did they have the insurmountable career issue, but they had the issue with her father too. Derek and Tyler knew stuff. Rachel did not. Her father was guilty, even more so than Rachel could ever imagine. Keeping the truth from her wore him down, yet the alternative would destroy her.
If he were smart, he’d walk out this door and keep her at arm’s length. He’d end this here and now for both of them. Stuff like this had a way of getting out no matter how careful they were. People noticed stuff, subtle things, like the way they looked at each other, or the extra softness in her voice when she spoke to him, or the way his face lit up when she saw her. They couldn’t control their reactions to each other no matter how hard they tried.
Even now, there could be suspicions he wasn’t aware of. His teammates or the coaches could already be speculating. Worrying about this was pointless. Either he took action or he continued the subterfuge.
He knew which one he would choose.
For now, nothing would change. He’d continue on.
He had football games to win and two hearts to protect—his and hers.
Chapter 21—Thrown for a Loss
Flipping fate the finger, Ryan gritted his teeth and wheeled his ride through his high school’s stadium gate and toward the sidelines. The guy who said life wasn’t fair knew what he was talking about. Life sucked at times, but death sucked worse.
Wiped and almost whipped, he’d refused Andre’s offer to push him. A guy had his pride even though it came with a price. He panted harder than the class nerd after bagging the homecoming queen. His shoulders ached, and his arms, once strong enough to bench-press his weight and more, shook from the effort.
Mara, a former girlfriend, fell into step beside him and chattered about nonsense. He said nothing and stared straight ahead. She didn’t notice. Her familiar scent wafted toward him, reminding him of wild times and late nights in his beat-up truck. Mara had a hot body and knew how to use it, but she didn’t use it on him anymore. As soon as cancer destroyed his team status, she’d dumped him for a hotshot quarterback from a neighboring school.
Not that it mattered; he couldn’t perform anyway, on or off the field. His days as a jock were long gone, not that he’d ever been a typical jock. Even during the best of times, he’d prided himself on being a nice guy. Everyone liked him, even his ex-girlfriends, which said a lot.
Derek Ramsey wore the same nice-guy suit, which explained why Ryan felt an affinity for him.
Mara tossed her blonde hair and stared down at him as if waiting for a response. He faked a smile, hoping he wasn’t agreeing to her hair looking like crap or some other trivial bullshit.
Duty fulfilled and conscience eased, she waved good-bye and bounced off to join her girlfriends. She couldn’t wait to get away from him, almost as if he were contagious.
He tried not to let it hurt. But it did. The sicker he got, the more people avoided him, even his mother. And he was sick. Really sick. The cancer in his body was winning. It was third and goal, no time-outs left, and the clock was running out.
Tonight, the disease slammed him down hard, but he fought it. He was here for his team, his buddies, his coaches. Winning this playoff game would put them in the state finals and one win from the state championship. He might be sidelined, but he still had a few trick plays left in him. Cancer had sacked his dreams, but it damn well wouldn’t cheat him out of living vicariously through his team and being there every step of the way. It wasn’t over till it was over.
“Hey, buddy, how’s it goin’?” A strong hand gripped his shoulder.
“Hey, Derek, you came.” He twisted his neck, looking up to smile at Derek standing beside his wheelchair.
“I said I would.” Derek’s dark eyes assessed him and clouded with concern. “How’s the battle?”
I’m losing. Big-time. And you can see it as clearly as Tyler can read a blitz.
“I’m still in the game.” He shrugged; no use stating the fucking obvious. “Hey, Rachel.”
“Hey, Ryan.” Coach’s sister flanked Derek, as usual. She leaned down and squeezed his cold hand. She was a looker—clumsy as hell but wicked hot. Derek hovered near her, ready to catch her when she stumbled, and she stumbled a lot. Derek found it entertaining. Rachel didn’t.
He grinned and felt better for some reason. Watching those two pretend they weren’t hooked up amused him. Like they fooled anyone, especially Coach, who got a stick up his ass whenever he saw them together. Some bad history there.
“Great game last week.”
“Yeah, we liked it.” Derek grinned. “Seven straight wins. Who woulda predicted that?”
“I would have.” A note of smugness crept into Ryan’s voice.
“Ah, of course.” Derek winked at him. “We play next on Thanksgiving.”
“I know.”
“So, do you have Thanksgiving plans?” Derek pried. It made Ryan uncomfortable.
“Family stuff. You know.” Ryan forced his face into a calm mask. He’d be spending the day alone with stale cornflakes.
“Good. You have a big family?”
“Uh, yeah, big enough.”
Derek frowned and scratched his chin but didn’t press for more information.
Ryan hung with them for the entire game. Derek held Rachel’s hand. Coach noticed, and he looked ready to take on the Dallas Outlaws D-line.
Tyler swaggered into the stadium for the second half. Everything about his demeanor screamed I’m the guy and don’t fucking mess with me. I got this.
While Derek flew under the radar, Tyler flew above and beyond it. He devoured attention faster than the Steelheads’ running back had racked up the yards last week. Slumming with Ryan’s team, Tyler stood on the sidelines and shouted orders to the offense, much to Coach’s irritation.
Tyler lived to irritate people, and Coach’s annoyance only encouraged him.
Both teams fought hard, but Ryan’s team squeaked out the win to advance to the state finals. Derek stayed at his side the entire game, listening to Ryan’s opinions on certain plays, defensive formations, and offering his own. Ryan forgot about his troubles for a while. Derek made it easy because he treated him like a normal guy.
Afterward, Derek and Tyler treated the entire team, their families, and the coaches to pizza. They sang, separately and together, as the karaoke DJ played all sorts of tunes. Ryan wheeled his chair to the front of the room a few times and sang with the guys. He’d pay for this late night, but who gave a shit. He wasn’t sure how many late nights he had left in him.
Still high from the victory, Ryan put off going home as long as possible. He hated his dreary, cold trailer. Unfortunately, all things come to an end. A buddy drove him home and helped him up the ramp to his front door. No way in hell would Ryan invite him inside.
He hated pity. Cancer was bad enough, but his living conditions were even worse. Waving good-bye, he wheeled his chair through the unlocked fr
ont door.
Ryan flipped on a light. It cast a dull yellow glow over the dingy living room. He breathed a sigh of relief he still had power. Shivering, he nudged the thermostat higher—might as well enjoy the heat while it lasted, not that it warded off the gloom.
His stomach growled. He wheeled into the kitchen, pissed at himself for being too wired to eat earlier and too proud to bring home the leftovers. Leaning forward, he reached for a box of cereal in the almost-empty cupboard. His fingertips grazed it. Gripping the sides of the wheelchair, he strained with all the strength his cancer-ravaged body had left in it.
His arms gave out. He slumped into the chair, breathing as if he’d run a marathon. A cold sweat broke out on his face. Frustrated, he swiped at his forehead. Just last week, he’d been able to stand and walk somewhat. How quickly he’d gone downhill shocked him.
Frustrated, he ran his fingers through his hair and rubbed his eyes. Loneliness seeped through him, empty and looming, a wolf ready to devour what the cancer didn’t destroy. He needed someone. He couldn’t do this alone. He stared at the door and willed his mother to walk through it and show him she cared.
Who the fuck was he kidding? Over a week ago, she’d come home late. He’d heard a car idling outside, movement in the bedroom. Rummaging in the bathroom. A few minutes later, the front door slammed. The car pulled away. The place had grown quiet. In the morning, he found a twenty on the counter. No note. She hadn’t been back since and wouldn’t be. She’d fucking abandoned him when he needed her most.
Sucking in a deep breath, he rallied his strength. Pushing with one hand on the arm of the wheelchair, his body shook from the effort. As his fingers touched the box, his hand slipped off the chair arm. The damn thing spun backward. He flew out, hitting his chin on the edge of the counter. Twisting his body at the last minute to protect his head, he slammed to the floor. His hip, elbow, and shoulder absorbed the brunt of the impact. The contents of the cereal box scattered around him. To add insult to injury, he peed his pants.
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