Dirty Tackle: A Football Romance

by King,Imani

  The guilt has been crushing.

  And he’s never married—never even had a long-term relationship that I know of.

  I couldn’t help thinking that might be because of me. I’ve never been a vain person, but the thought kept crossing my mind that morning.

  What if the last nine years of my life had all been a mistake?

  What if the boy I’d been in love with was the man I was meant to be with?

  And what if I screwed everything up with him as soon as I saw him?

  “Oh honey,” my mom said as I packed my lunch for the day. “You’ll be just fine. Better than fine. You always have been fine. It’s your dad and me that need bailing out.”

  I rolled my eyes and let her kiss me on the cheek. “Y’all are just fine up here. You’ll get back on your feet and get the business started up for real again.”

  These words—I’ve said them over and over. This time, it was true, I told myself. New life, new opportunities.

  “Thanks for that, Maddy.”

  “You’ll make sure Scarlet gets to school?” I looked through the hall, and I saw a head of curly hair peeking around the entrance to the living room.

  Scarlet popped out and ran over to me, snuggling my side, her hands drawn tight around my waist. “And you’ll pick me up.”

  “I can’t tonight. Your grandmother will. But I’m reading to your class tomorrow, and then we’ll go out for milkshakes.”

  Scarlet looked up at me with big, searching, blue eyes. “Okay, Mom. I love you.”

  “Love you too, Doodlebug.” I tousled her hair and headed out the door to walk to the metro. My heart was heavy, guilt sweeping through my body.

  The metro ride was shorter than I thought it would be, and I arrived about ten minutes too early. Heart beating fast, my mind dreading the worst, I went around the corner to the Au Bon Pain to grab a coffee and a bagel. As I sat by the window, I couldn’t help but look at everyone on the street, wondering if Shane would pass by.

  “Maybe you won’t even recognize him if he does,” I said to myself, ripping off small pieces of my bagel and shoving them into my mouth.

  After I had assured myself that it was highly unlikely I’d see Shane at all on my first day—DC had a big team, and not all of them needed sports rehab—I threw away the remainder of the bagel and poured the rest of the coffee down my throat.

  As soon as I walked into the Institute, I found myself whisked away by the front desk attendant—a short woman named Sylvia. She showed me the staff lounge, the exam rooms, and all the other twists and turns and mazes that made up the city’s largest sports medicine office.

  I settled into my own exam room, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. I might have been an educated woman with years of medical experience, but still, I sometimes felt I was pretending to be a doctor. It was my one dream come true—besides Scarlet, the best and least expected dream of them all—and on some days, it was all I could do to convince myself that I wasn’t pretending to be a doctor.

  The first two appointments went by in a lightning flash—blood draws and nurse visits and physical therapy referrals all falling into place like they should. I had to keep reminding myself that Shane wouldn’t magically appear—and if he did, he’d know I wasn’t here just for him.

  Wouldn’t he?

  And wasn’t I here for myself, most of all, not for him?

  By lunchtime, I was ravenous, the half bagel sitting poorly on my stomach. I stepped out of the exam room, checking my schedule and noting that I didn’t need to be back to my appointments until one.

  As I turned the corner that led down the hall to the staff lounge, I spotted Sylvia, the receptionist, leaning over her desk and talking to a very tall man with dirty blond hair.

  My heart stopped, and I backed up so that my body was partly behind a water fountain. I didn’t have to look closer to know that the man in question was Shane Wright, and that if he turned this way, I’d see those deep blue eyes. The same ones I saw every day—my daughter’s eyes. His daughter’s eyes.

  “The pamphlet on the table out front does say there’s a new doctor here, Sylvia.” I see him looking down at the receptionist’s name tag. “And it says her name is Madeline Thompson. She’s a sports medicine physician.”

  “Mr. Wright,” Sylvia said, shooting me a look. “I can’t give you directions to her office. She doesn’t quite have one yet. Do you have a concern? Dr. Ellis can answer your questions just as well as Dr. Thompson.”

  “I’m sure he can. He’s a good doctor. No—I’m not looking to ask a question. Maddy—I mean Dr. Thompson—is an old friend of mine. And I haven’t seen her in a good long while. I’d very much like to.”

  “I can let her know you checked in.” Sylvia shot me another glance, and I shrugged, like it didn’t matter one way or another. I don’t think I could have done anything else. My poor heart was beating just as hard as it could, and I could barely think straight.

  “Will you do that, please? I’ll be back next week for my PT appointment, and I’d love to see her if I can.”

  Sylvia stuck her chin up, getting closer to Shane’s face. “She’s brand new here, Mr. Wright. Your reputation with women leaves something to be desire. I’d ask you to be appropriate with her.”

  “Sylvia, you know me too well.” Shane laughed, and the sound echoed in the hallway. “Dr. Thompson isn’t that kind of friend. By her own choice.”

  There was a hint of something sad in his voice, but I brushed it off as my own wishful thinking. I tried to slink off, back to my exam room. I’d skip lunch that day, I decided. And maybe I’d see him next week when—

  “Maddy Thompson.” His booming voice rang through the hallway again.

  I whipped around. “Shane,” I breathed. My words didn’t want to come easy, it seemed. There was a tightness in my chest, preventing me from speaking in any real way. “What are you doing here?” My voice sounded more like a squeaky mouse and less like a human woman with each syllable.

  “Got some rehab I need done. Or so they tell me. Don’t really trust these docs. No offense.” He shrugged and stuffed his hands in his pockets. He did that a lot back in the days when I was realizing he’d developed a crush on me. He did that the night I decided to sleep with him. The night Scarlet was conceived. It could have been the morning after, too. I grew hot at the thought, and a sleepy, old desire wound its way through my body and pooled between my legs.

  If anything, Shane was more muscular and sculpted than he had been back in school. Dirty blond hair, those eyes. Wearing his gray t-shirt and basketball shorts.

  “None taken,” I said, trying to step toward him without being totally awkward. Before I could break the space between us, he stepped up and drew me into a hug.

  In the background, I thought I could hear Sylvia’s mouth pop wide open. But it might have been my imagination.

  When he pulled away, my whole body had flushed, aching need pouring through me.

  Remember, Maddy, he’s crushed the hearts and hopes of a lot of women. The time will be right—but for now you need to protect Scarlet. And yourself. Well, maybe yourself. It might be good to give in if he asks for one date—but he won’t. No, he won’t.

  My mind jumbled with thoughts and concerns, and I pursed my lips hard.

  Scarlet.

  Protect her.

  “It’s great to see you, Shane,” I said through gritted teeth. “I’d love to see you again. Why don’t you stop by my office the next time you’re around? I have to go right now—”

  “I’d like to see you to, Maddy. I really would. I can stop by your office, and I can take you for a drink. I’d like that.”

  “Drinks are—” I waffled, trying to think of a word.

  “Delicious? I know a great pub right around the corner.”

  “DC has pubs?”

  “It has everything.”

  “Drinks aren’t really necessary,” I muttered. “And probably not appropriate. I know it’d be nice to catch up. Maybe we can
grab sandwiches and eat them in my office.”

  “Wow,” he said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “That sounds so exciting.”

  At that moment, I couldn’t help myself. I laughed, hard, hand over my stomach. Would this man ever forgive me if he knew the truth? Could I ever forgive myself?

  “I really do have to go,” I said, tapping my smartwatch. “I have an appointment coming up. Maybe I’ll see you next time. A week or so, right?”

  He nodded, but didn’t say anything else. So I turned, and I walked back to my exam room. I didn’t even have an office yet—and Shane Wright had stopped me in the hallway, given me a hug, and ignited an age-old desire deep within me.

  What would it be like that next time I saw him?

  And would I even survive it?

  CHAPTER FOUR

  There she was, just like that. That’s what I kept thinking to myself that week after I saw her. All the old dreams and fantasies came pouring back in. The girls that usually text me for dirty dates started seeming trivial. I blocked one of them from my phone and let the rest go unread. It was only Maddy I could think about.

  It’s not like she hasn’t changed in nine years.

  But that change has been good. Like, really good.

  She’s still fit like she used to be, but her hips and breasts are curvier and fuller, like she became the woman she was meant to be in all that time away.

  I did check. And she didn’t have a wedding ring on her left hand—it was as empty as it was the day she left me.

  I’ve thought about putting a ring on that finger a thousand times since she went back to Rosewood and her family, but those haven’t been thoughts I ever shared with anyone. It wasn’t right for DC’s Dirty Tackle—that name has followed me everywhere I went—to do anything besides hook up with girls and go to parties.

  The guys on my team had me billed as a perennial bachelor. Not the marrying kind.

  Not until I saw Maddy again.

  I thought the words as I walked in for my appointment the next week. I hadn’t been a creeper—not like I wanted to be—and I didn’t bribe Sylvia to get her number, and I didn’t randomly pop by to stare at Maddy’s gorgeous breasts and her high, firm ass. I wanted to, thought about it every day.

  But if I wanted to be anything besides a dirty football player, I needed to actually act like it.

  I passed Sylvia on the way in and gave what I hoped seemed like a gentlemanly nod. “Sylvia. It’s a damn good day, isn’t it?”

  “I guess so, Mr. Wright.” She gave me a quizzical look. It looked like she hadn’t gotten over seeing me hug Dr. Thompson like that. “You’re here quite early,” she added.

  “I’m looking for—”

  “Dr. Thompson’s office?” Sylvia raised an eyebrow when she said Maddy’s name. To me, she was Maddy. She was about ten times as educated as I was, and always about twenty times smarter—but to me, she was still just Maddy. My best friend turned lover for one night. Turned disappeared woman before the age of smartphones and Facebook.

  “Yeah, you got me, Syl.” I gave her a wink and pointed down one hallway and then the other, like I was trying to figure out which way to go.

  “She’s down in the east corridor, next to the gym. And I don’t know if she’s around this morning, but—”

  “That’s cool, Sylvia. I’ll just go have a look.” I cut her off before she had a chance to say anything else, like, “But her boyfriend is in there.” Or, “But she doesn’t want to see you, you cocky asshole.”

  I shut out Sylvia’s voice as I walked down the hall, looking at the doors and reading the names of sports medicine doctors I’d never heard of. At the very end of the hall, there was a door with a piece of printer paper that read, “Madeline Thompson, M.D.” She’d been here a whole week and hadn’t even gotten a plaque. I shook my head. They clearly didn’t know who they were dealing with.

  I knocked.

  There was a long pause.

  And I knocked again.

  “Yeah?” I heard Maddy’s voice on the other side. “I don’t have any appointments until eleven, Sylvia…”

  “It’s not Sylvia.” I turned the handle and stepped in, and there she was, just like a pretty girl out of a good dream.

  “Shit. Shane—I forgot you were coming by.” She fiddled with her hair and brushed a lock behind one ear. I took that as a good sign—maybe she wished she’d put on makeup or some of that crap women think. She didn’t have a lick of anything on besides lip gloss. But damn did she look perfect—better than any of the women I kept on my phone for backup dates. By far.

  “Just thought I’d come by before my appointment. And I thought you might take me up on my offer for a drink—”

  “Last time, I said I wasn’t going to take you up on an offer for a drink. You’re a patient here—”

  “But not your patient. So I don’t think it breaks any rules. Plus, I’d love an explanation on not hearing from you for nine years.”

  She gave me a wry smile. “Likewise, Dirty Tackle. I believe you had my email and my phone number.”

  “I, just, well—you got me there. I was failing classes left and right, and the team wasn’t doing that well at Brooks. I thought I might be disturbing you with my troubles if I got in touch. And you had plenty of your own.”

  “Yeah, I guess.” She gave me a cryptic look, like she was thinking of that time long ago and far away. Maybe she was remembering her feelings for me. Maybe she never had any to begin with. “My parents—well, their business was failing. And it is again. They don’t know how to run a damn business.” She laughed.

  “I’m sorry to hear that. I never knew why you left—”

  “That was why. And—” Then she was silent like she was thinking. After a long pause, she spoke again, not continuing the thought that she’d started. “I think it’s best if we keep things casual.”

  “Who said I wasn’t keeping things casual, Maddy?” I gave her a smile. “Just a drink. I could pick you up here at the end of the day. When do you get off?” I tried not to put emphasis on “get off,” but I couldn’t quite help myself. I even thought I saw a blush rising on her gorgeous honey brown skin.

  “I get off around six. And I guess you can take me out for a drink. If you want.”

  “I do want.”

  We chatted after that, speaking to each other about all the people we used to know. Conversation flowed easily, like it always had with us. For the millionth time, I regretted not calling her, not emailing. But here we were, at the precipice of starting over again. After her lunch hour, I went about my daily routine—working out, talking to teammates, drinking the green smoothies I needed to keep healthy. But everything seemed brighter and lighter somehow—I had a date with Maddy to look forward to. And I wouldn’t let her get away again. Not this time.

  When the time came to pick her up, I met her in the parking lot and took her to my favorite bar downtown.

  Just like this morning, our conversations flowed like they always had.

  And then, when she went to the bathroom, I decided then and there.

  I would kiss her.

  And our lives would be intertwined once again.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Damn.

  She tasted just as good as I remembered. Sweet with just a hint of strawberry. I devoured her mouth and felt her soft curves pressed up against me. I hadn’t been able to stop myself from moving after her when she excused herself to go to the bathroom. I waited for her to come out, and when I pulled on her elbow to draw her into the back corner of the shadowed hallway, she hadn’t resisted.

  “Come back to my place,” I said as I dug my hands deep into the thick waves of hair at the base of her neck. Her hair was longer now than it had been in college. She was softer everywhere, more mature in a classy, sophisticated kind of way. And I’d been thinking of her, just like this, all day. Ever since I saw her sitting in that office, vulnerable. No make up. Absolutely perfect in every way. A phantom from my past come back to haunt m
e.

  “Shane, I don’t know… I don’t think this is appropriate…” Maddy’s voice trailed off. Her eyes stared up into mine. There were shadows there that hadn’t been there ten years ago. Then she had been a girl. Now she was a woman. “There are things you don’t know… things we don’t know about each other. It’s been so long—”

  What secrets did she have hidden away? I was eager to uncover all of them.

  “And you’ve been thinking about me. Just like I’ve been thinking about you. Come back to my place,” I repeated in a husky whisper. I didn’t touch her earlobe, but let my breath caress that small patch of sensitive of her skin at the nape of her neck. The palms of her hands moved up to my chest and flattened against my pecs. Was she going to give in or was she going to push me away again?

  “I have been, but I—” She said something else, but I didn’t catch it.

  “It is impossible to talk here. C’mon,” I said as I slide my hands down her shoulders and cupped her hands in mine. “I promise to only do things you want me to do to you.” I gave her a wink and was relieved to see the mischievous smile cross her face. There she was; a hint of the Maddy I’d known when I was a kid. She was there underneath this slick, professional exterior that had “Do Not Touch” in red warning letters written all over it.

  “Just for a few minutes. Then I have to go,” she said. She looked at her watch. “I have appointments early tomorrow.”

  I wasn’t going to argue with her. For now, I was going to take her acceptance at face value and use the opportunity to get her alone. Talking was one of only many things that I wanted to do with her, and I was going to take everything that she’d give me.

  I kept her close to my body as we exited the darkened bar. I wasn’t sure why I had thought this was the perfect place for a reunion. After barely one drink, my senses had been on fire wanting to touch her again. I wanted to break through the cool façade that she seemed to have cultivated in the years that we had been apart. I had so many questions for her, but I kept my mouth shut.