Double Score

by Violet Paige

  I was about to hang up on him.

  “Fine. Just call me.”

  “You got it.”

  I shoved the phone into my pocket and continued to work on breakfast. I had muffins in the oven and was ready to whip eggs into omelets, but I wasn’t sure when she’d be home. I didn’t want them to be cold.

  I heard her key in the door and smiled when she walked through.

  “Hey.” She grinned.

  “How was practice?” I asked.

  “Dreadful as usual.” She hung her bag next to the door and looped her keys on a hook. “It smells wonderful in here.”

  “Bacon always smells good. I was getting ready to make an omelet for you.”

  She laughed. “So if I took pictures of you right now making breakfast for me I couldn’t use these as blackmail.” She leaned up to kiss me on the cheek.

  “First of all, you wouldn’t do that. And second, yes, the guys don’t know about my culinary skills. So don’t blow my badass cover.”

  “Oh, that’s what you call yourself?” She sat at the table to watch me with the whisk.

  “You’re looking at the tight end with the most yards, most catches, most touchdowns, and most blocks in his rookie season and I’m on schedule to beat that this year.”

  “Wow. I had no idea.”

  I stared at her. “Really? No idea?”

  She shook her head. “It was never a line. I seriously know nothing about your career or much about football, but I have picked up a lot as a Goddess. We have to go to football class during our summer training camp.”

  “So if I quiz you, you think you’d pass?” I added cream to the eggs and whipped furiously. How could she not have heard of my record?

  “I think I would. I can hold my own in a conversation with the girls.”

  I chuckled. “Yeah, but those girls aren’t professional football players.”

  “True, but I’d bet I could pass.”

  “Want to make a bet?”

  She twisted her pouty lips together. “What kind of bet?”

  “If you win.” I stopped. “What do you want if you win?”

  She pressed her finger to her chin. “I want a full-body massage. Naked.”

  “That sounds like a win for me, but okay. If you win, you get a massage.”

  “And if I don’t?” she asked.

  “If I win, you try on those pointe shoes for me and let me watch you spin around the studio.”

  The smile fell from her face. “Sam, I was trying to be funny.”

  “I’m being serious. Take the bet. Prove to me you can pass a football quiz.”

  “Fine. I’ll do it. And you’ll be thanking me, because your hands will be all over this body you own.” She eyed me.

  “Either way I win.” I winked at her. I turned toward the stove to layer in the first omelet. “Here’s your first question. How many quarters are in a game?”

  “Really? That’s insulting. Four.”

  “Ding, ding, for the ballerina.” I watched to make sure the edges on the omelet didn’t brown too much. “Second question. How many players are on the field during a play?”

  She scrunched her nose. “Twenty-four?”

  “Err. No. Twenty-two. But that’s okay. It’s one to one.”

  She folded her arms. “Next.”

  I flipped the omelet over. “Okay, for your next question can you name four different offensive positions?”

  “Easily. Quarterback, wide receiver, tight end,” she paused to smile. “And.” She blinked a few times. “And…”

  “Err. That is incorrect. You could have said running back, kicker. I’d take lineman or center. But that’s okay. You were close.”

  She scowled at me. And I felt one question away from watching her dance for me.

  “For the final question. For my victory question.” I winked at her. “What is the play called a safety?”

  “That is not a fair question. Who knows what that is?”

  “Err, also incorrect. A safety is when the team who has the ball is tackled in their own end zone, resulting in two points for the other team.”

  “Two points? I’ve never heard of it.”

  “Look it up,” I instructed as I delivered her breakfast in front of her.

  She started typing on her phone and whispered the definition for a safety score out loud. “I feel tricked. That was a trick question.”

  “It was not. Now eat up and then put on the shoes. I want to see you dance.”

  “Today?”

  “I’m leaving today. So yes.”

  I cut into my omelet and took a bite. Victory always tasted sweet.

  24

  Natalia

  I stared at the satin laces dangling from the shelf, taunting me, begging me to wear them. Sam had schemed me into this and I wasn’t happy.

  He was in the studio waiting for me to show him something a ballerina would do. My Goddess uniform was hanging where it always did. Didn’t he know I hadn’t been a ballerina for a long time?

  I dug through my closet until I found one of my wrap shirts and a light pink wrap skirt. I quickly put them on and then began to pull the pointe shoes from the shelf. I was shaking and my fingers tingled. I didn’t know if I could go through with this.

  I sat on the edge of the bed. What if it didn’t feel right? What if I injured my hamstring again? What if this was a setback? This could end all of the plans I had made to audition. With a new injury, I would ruin the chance I did have.

  “Natalia, where are you?” Sam called from the room next to mine.

  “Hold on,” I replied.

  I had to do this. Not only because I had to pay up for the bet I had lost, but because I had been putting it off way too long. My fear had eaten away at my confidence. I could tell Sam was trying to give some of that back to me.

  But he hadn’t been there. He didn’t know the pain it caused and the months of anguish piled on top.

  I exhaled, and for the first time in nine months, my feet wore pointe shoes.

  I might as well have been stepping onto the stage for my first performance. My stomach did somersaults and I could feel the sticky perspiration in my hands. I took my time walking into the studio.

  Sam was going through my record collection, but he must have heard me enter and turned around.

  “Wow.”

  “I don’t know if I can do this.” My mouth felt dry. Wearing the shoes again had brought back not only the good memories but also the nightmare. I trembled.

  He took a few long strides toward me and took my hand, leading me to the center of the room. “I know you can.”

  I looked at us in the mirror. He was tall and strong, overpowering, almost, in my quiet sanctuary. He made me look dainty even though I was five-eight. He stood behind me and squeezed my shoulders.

  “I’ll put on the music.”

  “But what if I can’t?” I eked.

  He turned. “I’ve got you. And if you can’t, we’ll figure out how to make sure you can.”

  It sounded simple. It sounded as if he had figured out the perfect remedy to my problems. All I had to do was dance.

  He placed a vinyl record on the turntable, moved the arm, and hit the switch. There were a few moments of crackling static before I heard the notes of the piano. I needed a moment to center myself. A moment to remember who I was as a dancer.

  I felt the air fill my lungs before I started with a gentle plié. My arms swished to the sides before I moved onto my toes in a relevé. I wasn’t ready to try one leg at a time yet. I needed to work through the motions slowly. I felt the strength in my legs as I held the position on the tips of my toes and pressed into the ground with my shoes.

  The more I moved, the more I started to remember the joy of dancing. The lure of the stage. The music in my ears. I stopped thinking about the accident and the pain. I let my body dictate how it floated through space.

  Sam didn’t utter a word. He stood in the corner next to the record player, while I picked
up my left leg and then my right. I leaned toward the bar, kicking a leg behind me, all the while maintaining my balance on my toes. It was happening. There was stability and balance. I had trust in my body again. I didn’t feel like my right leg was going to snap like a twig. Instead I felt the power in my standing leg as I moved easily from position to position.

  I twirled on my toes and bowed at Sam. My heart was about to beat out of my chest, but no longer from fear—from bliss.

  “What do you think?” I was practically glowing. I could see it in the mirror.

  “I think you’re beautiful and you’ve never been sexier than you are right now.”

  I skipped over the room and jumped into his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist. I kissed him fiercely.

  “Thank you for making me lose that stupid football bet.”

  He pressed my face between his palms. “I’m happy for you. How’s your leg?”

  I lowered myself to the ground and pressed my right toes into the floor. “It feels fine. I can’t believe it feels okay.” I was still stunned.

  “Whether you like it or not, all that ass shaking you do with the Goddesses has probably been more therapy than you realized. You have a tight little ass and that means strong hamstrings.”

  “I think that’s a compliment.” I smiled slyly at him. He never let me forget how much he enjoyed my body.

  “It is most definitely a compliment.”

  I pulled on his hand. “Now it’s your turn.”

  “Oh no.” His eyes widened with fear. “I don’t dance.”

  “Really? Aren’t you the ring leader of the club scene?”

  “Have you been cyber stalking me?” He eyed me.

  I pinched my fingers together. “Maybe a little bit.”

  “That doesn’t mean I dance. It means I party. There’s a difference.”

  I wasn’t giving up that easily. The adrenaline was flowing through me. “Dance with me, Sam. Not ballet. But hold me. Dance with me.”

  I could see the defeat as his shoulders sagged. “There are no cameras in this studio, are there?”

  “No, of course not.”

  I placed my hands around his neck as he slipped his palms to the small of my back.

  “See? Not so bad.” I ran my hand over his shoulder and the width of his bicep, pulling his grip on my hip so that we were holding hands. I clutched our joined palms at my breast.

  The steps were small and the movements were easy, but we moved together with as much perfection as we did in bed. He didn’t give himself credit for how athletic he was. He wouldn’t be able to dive and avoid tackles without agility and the skill of staying light on his toes. I wasn’t going to present it to him like that, but he had his own style of grace.

  I pressed up into another relevé, adding several inches to my height. I didn’t say a word as he lifted me from the ground and brought my lips to his as he continued to elevate me into the air. His arms flexed and I looked down into his eyes.

  He lowered me slowly, dragging my body over his. I closed my eyes, taking in the solidness of him as I slid to the floor.

  “Natalia, come back with me,” he whispered.

  The moment felt magical and enchanted. Almost as if we were rehearsing a lovers scene for the stage.

  “Can I think about it?” I asked. “Please.”

  He pressed his forehead to mine and I heard the vinyl crackle in between songs.

  “Don’t wait too long to answer.”

  “I won’t.”

  He kissed me gently and walked out of the room. “I have to get back to San Antonio.”

  There was a giant hollowness in my chest. I didn’t want him to leave, but I didn’t think I was the kind of girl who could go.

  25

  Sam

  I had just enough time to make it back for the afternoon team meeting. I would drive straight to the stadium. I turned up the radio, but I couldn’t stop thinking about her. The more time I spent with her, the more I wanted her. I wanted her with me all the time. Not just for quick nights here and there.

  She had to understand that if I needed her in San Antonio, she had to be there.

  Ninety minutes later, I parked in my spot underneath the stadium and took the elevator to the strategy floor. I could hear the low murmur of the other guys. I took a seat mid-way down the aisle in one of the auditorium-style seats.

  Coach Howell was going through plays with the offensive and defensive coordinators. They weren’t ready to start the meeting yet. I yawned, but jumped when I felt my phone vibrate. It was a text from Natalia.

  Call me when you can.

  Starting pre-game meeting. It will be a couple of hours.

  Ok.

  I wanted to write something about last night, or even about this morning. How fucking sexy she was. How she had stolen my breath with only a few spins in her special ballerina shoes.

  I looked down when my phone vibrated. I smiled, hoping Natalia had sent me something in French. I loved it when she said something dirty. Something I’d never heard before or imagined.

  I read the text in disbelief.

  Can’t we at least talk? Meet for coffee?

  Shit. It was Maddie again. I had to find a way to block her or I’d get a new number. It would be a pain in the ass, but it would be worth it not to have her contact me. Why was she doing this? Why was I suddenly her life line? I didn’t buy it.

  No.

  I wrote back. I turned my phone off. I wouldn’t respond to anything else. That was the last word she’d hear from me. I’d been done with her for years. She was the bitch who had cut me out. Now I’d be the dick who did the same thing.

  The lights lowered and the film began to run.

  Coach spoke into the microphone. “Guys, pay attention to this. It’s a play they ran last week. It worked, so we can expect to see it tomorrow.”

  He got our attention and the room went silent. Everyone focused on the film. Everyone except me. All I could think about was a ballerina who was in my head.

  Two hours later, I ran out of the meeting with the phone to my ear.

  “Hey, you made it back okay?” Her voice sounded sweet.

  “I drove straight to practice.” I walked to the end of the hallway where I could talk to her privately.

  “Good. I’m glad you made it back.”

  “What’s going on?”

  She sighed. “I want to tell you yes, but I think we’re moving too quickly.”

  I slammed my palm against my forehead. “It doesn’t feel like it’s too fast when we’re together, does it?”

  “No, it doesn’t. And I think that’s what scares me the most about it, Sam. Is this even real?”

  I stared out the window at the indoor practice field. “It’s real for me. I’ve never asked someone to move in with me before. I want you here.” I could feel the tension gripping in my neck.

  “I want to be there too, but I think we should try things like this for a while. Can we do that? Plan weekends? I’ll come see you next time. Or we can meet in the middle?”

  “The middle? There’s nothing in the middle.” I was pissed, and my voice was getting louder.

  “Okay, as soon as you left I started looking up some places and I found these cute cottages on Canyon Lake. We could rent one and no one would see us and we could spend time together.”

  I huffed. “This is a fucking first.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Most women want to be photographed and seen with me and you’re the exact opposite.”

  “Sam, I tried to explain to you how important it is that I do this on my own. I don’t want a handout. If you can’t respect that I don’t want your money, then maybe this isn’t even worth trying.”

  I closed my eyes. I didn’t want to fight with her. I didn’t want to push her away.

  “I’m sorry, Natalia. I’m tired and it was a long meeting. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry.”

  There was silence on the other end.

  “Nata
lia?”

  “Yeah. I was thinking.” Her voice was soft. “I’ll let you go and we can talk after our games tomorrow. Just think about it, Sam. I want to see you again, but if you can’t handle me staying on the dance team, then you need to let me know. I made a commitment to the Goddesses and I’m going to keep it.”

  I saw Wes walking toward me. This was the last thing I wanted him to hear.

  “Right. Right. Yeah, let’s talk tomorrow.” I hung up to face the quarterback.

  “You ran out of there like your ass was on fire.” He eyed me.

  “Something back home,” I lied. “What’s up?”

  “I wanted to talk to you about a couple of the plays we have lined up for tomorrow. Howell, as usual, is a dumbass.”

  I scratched the back of my head. I wasn’t going to get in the middle of Coach and Wes’s on-going argument about who should decide the game plays. Some teams were dependent on the quarterback and some relied on a team of coordinators to decide. Coach Howell liked to be the one in charge and so did Wes.

  “What are you thinking?” I asked.

  “What I think is, we use the same shit we did against the Warriors. Start off with an even rotation and then I go to you straight every time.”

  My face lit up. “I like how you think.” There was nothing Coach could do if I ran the route that was called to me on the field. At that point I was only doing my job.

  “Good. Then expect to make a lot of catches and let’s run that score up.”

  I laughed. “Fuck, yeah. Let’s do it all afternoon.”

  My argument with Natalia didn’t seem as important. I remembered I was here to win football games and collect a two-million dollar bonus in a few months.

  I walked down the hall for the elevator when I heard Cavan calling my name.

  “Hey, you didn’t call me about the playbook.” He stopped me at the elevator.

  “Right. It’s in my car if you want it.”

  “I checked around and no one else has one. I’ll take yours if you’re sure.”

  “Yeah. It’s yours. Come on.”

  We rode the elevator to the garage level. Cavan followed behind me. He was having a pretty good season. I was impressed another rookie could join the team and do what he had with the pressure weighing down on us to repeat our championship victory.