Sidelines (Wounded Hearts #1)
Page 38
“You need to pull it together, Allie.” I warn myself. I didn’t realize I’d said it loud enough for anyone to hear until Mac sidles up beside me, those arms crossed and a sullen look pushing his brows down.
“If you don’t wipe that fretful look off your face before they take the field, I’m pulling you.”
“I’ve got this, Mac.” I shake my hands at my sides, and he narrows his eyes.
“Take a walk. Now.”
“I’ll miss the game—”
“Now.”
Angrily, I slap my notebook in his arms and storm off the sidelines fighting to keep my cool. The air conditioning in the lower level concourse hits the back of my neck and I feel myself immediately calm down. Goosebumps prickle my arm as a rushing sensation hits me and I hear the whistle blown to signal the end of the time-out.
“Please keep him safe. Please.” I pray quietly, pacing next to the field entrance a couple of times. Peace overcomes me as I roll my neck a couple of times and prepare myself to take up my post on the sidelines. Just as I’m taking the first steps back onto the field, the roaring crowd above me heightens before getting eerily quiet. The loose hairs on the back of my neck stand on edge as a dreadful feeling takes residence in the pit of my stomach. The closer I get to the field, the more I know it’s him. The second the huddle of players, refs and coaching staff comes into view my breath catches. Glancing at the players standing around the group, I don’t see his number and without really having confirmation, I know it’s Logan lying in the middle of the huddle.
“Allie. You need to go—” Mac catches my arms, trying to hold me back, but as if on auto-pilot, I struggle to fight my way on the field.
“It’s him, isn’t it? I need to—”
“No you don’t. You can’t be on the field, you know that. Just go back into the breezeway and wait for—”
The stretcher cart makes its way onto the field and air gets stuck in my lungs.
“I have to go to him. Mac, let go—”
Mac stoops in front of me, locking his dark eyes on mine. “Allie, you can’t go to him right now. You’ll lose everything.”
While my insides feel like they’re swirling around fighting for space, my head becomes perfectly clear.
“No, Mac. If I lose him, I’ll lose everything.”
I whirl around so quickly that I think Mac stumbles. Jogging back to the concourse, I break into a dead sprint the second my feet hit the concrete walkway. My lungs welcome the push as I bob and weave around the eyes that have stopped to watch the crazy lady running as if her life depended on it. The second the locker rooms come into view, I slow and watch as Ollie and team usher Logan and the paramedic team inside.
“Ollie.”
He turns and almost sighs in frustration when he sees me, but he hurries to meet me halfway anyway.
“This is exactly what I was afraid would happen. You’ve already done enough, Allie. You should probably—”
“I need to see him, Ollie. Please.” Even I can hear the desperation in my voice.
“I don’t think that’s best right now. He’s going to need—”
“Please, Oliver. I need to tell him the truth.”
Ollie stops, his face going blank. “What truth?”
“I was so afraid. Afraid that he will just leave me like they all have, but then I left him and I’ve been so cluele—”
“Okay. Okay. Calm down, just breathe.” He rests a hand on my shoulder and I fight the urge to shrug him off and barge past him to find Logan. “Focus, Allie. I can’t let you in there right now. Let us take care of him and I’ll come get you just as soon as I can, okay?”
He holds my gaze for a moment longer, trying to convince me to stay here. For a moment, I wonder if he’ll really let me see Logan, but something inside tells me I just need to trust him and have a little faith that everything will be okay. So I nod.
“I’ll be back for you just as soon as I can. Just be patient.” He lets go of me and starts running toward the room, leaving me to find support on nothing but the walls.
***
It seems to take forever before the last of the Rattlers staff exits the room. I could be paranoid, but I feel their stares on me as they make their way back onto the field. However, unless they’re going to give me some kind of update on Logan, I refuse to let their opinion of us get to me. Finally, after what feels like hours later, the door opens and Ollie’s head pops out. He glances in all directions before he waves me into the room. I wipe away the last of the tears as we weave around benches and gym bags, but my focus is far from the mess the boys left the room in. The second we turn the corner, I can’t help the gasp.
Logan lies propped up by his pads and a couple of blankets. His shoe has been removed from his right foot and a bag of ice is taped around it and his ankle. His chest heaves as he takes in deep, unsteady breaths. Judging by his tightly closed eyes, I’d say he’s fighting through some pretty excruciating pain.
“Ollie, will you grab the Aleve out of my bag. I think I will take that—”
“Sure, but I think we’ve got something much stronger here to help.”
Logan’s dark head pops up off the blanket it was propped on, his beautiful eyes wide when his sight lands on me. My chest nearly caves in as I watch him try to adjust and see the pain sear through this body.
“Don’t move. You heard the doctor,” Ollie warns, sending a secondary message with this eyes. But Logan doesn’t catch it because he can’t tear his gaze away from mine.
“What are you doing here?” Logan’s voice sounds strained, painful, either due to the injury or from my walking away from him just yesterday.
“I’m so sorry. I—” The words get stuck in my throat as more tears come flooding to my eyes. Ollie hands Logan the medication he requested and a bottle of Gatorade, watching the two of us closely.
“I’ll, um…I’ll just wait outside.” Ollie excuses himself quickly, the door clicking shut behind him a moment later.
Logan’s breath staggers as he tries to move again, the pain on his face ripping at the tear in my heart.
“Please stop moving. If the doctor said not to, then you really shouldn’t.” Logan watches me with a determined look as he leans down and adjusts the end of his pants.
“What are you doing here, Allie?”
A thousand words I don’t know how to put together rush my mind, overwhelming me to the point that all I can do is stand there and drink him in. After a moment, his face softens and he lifts an arm. “Come here.”
I try not to rush him, but the emotions that fight to escape fuel me to move faster than I intend. The moment his arms wrap around me the dam breaks and I soak his Under Armor gear. His gentle shushing soothes the scrapes and aches pushing him away has scarred me with, his long fingers wrapping themselves in my ponytail as I let the it all out.
“Oh, sweetheart. Please don’t cry.”
My snort is very unladylike when I try to get a grip on the words I need to say. He chuckles, the laugh shaking his body and causing pain.
“I’m sorry. I’ll stop.”
His grip loosens when I try to push away, but he doesn’t let me go. “You have nothing to apologize for. I’m the one who got myself hurt.”
I wipe the tears that blur my vision to find the softest gaze I’ve ever seen from him.
“I have everything to apologize for. The way I treated you and your family when you came to Walt’s funeral. You didn’t have to, but you did come for me. And then yesterday, I was so rude to you. I’m so sorr—”
“Shh.” He presses a finger to my lips before using his thumbs to wipe the tears away from my eyes. “It’s all in the past. You’ve been long forgiven.”
I can’t help my jaw dropping to the floor. “How can you say that? I just—”
“Allie.” His firm tone cautions me enough to stop rambling. I take another breath to start again, but his eyes narrow and I feel the fight leave me. He pulls me back in, tucking me in under his chin, right w
here I’ve needed to be all this time.
“I’ve been praying for you every night. I can’t tell you how many times I wanted to track you down like I did yesterday. I’ve been so worried about you, but something just kept telling me to be patient.”
Something about his confession grabs a hold of me and jerks me out of the blubbering mess I’ve become.
“Logan, I need—” He tries to shush me again, but I wiggle out of his arms and take a step back. “I need to say this. Please.”
He takes a deep breath and nods subtly, his face so void of any feeling. It’s in that moment I realize what I’ve done. The courage to admit my feelings falters, but I feel a strength not my own fill me. Even if it’s not what he wants to hear, at least I know I’ve done what I can to fix this.
“I need to ask for your forgiveness.” Shock, an emotion I don’t think I’ve ever seen on Logan’s face, crosses his beautiful features and I tentatively take a step closer to him and kneel beside him. “I lied to you. To your family. To everyone. I put what I thought was more important ahead of you and...and it nearly broke me. I have a great career, but it isn’t nearly as rewarding as my time with you has been. I understand if you can’t forgive me, but…” The words catch as fear starts to creep in, but something inside pushes me to keep fighting for what I now realize I truly want. “But I need you to know I was wrong. Nothing is more important than telling someone you love them.”
The muscles in Logan’s jaw tighten and more fear warns me that I’m about to be thrown away for being so ignorant. But then his eyes close and he finally exhales.
“Did you not just hear a word I said?” he asks, in a low, calculated voice. When he reopens his eyes, I feel my lungs start to ache from the air they’re holding onto. “You’ve been long forgiven.”
Air rushes out of me as he pulls me back to him and I feel the weight of the world slip away. And just as his lips finally find their way to mine, I hear a voice that sounds a lot like Walt over the rush of the crowd a couple of stories above us.
Atta girl.
Chapter Thirty-Five
***Three months later***
“Allie.” Logan’s hand covers the screen of my tablet, successfully distracting me from my pit of gloom. “Put it away before you make yourself sick.”
I power the iPad down and place it in the glove compartment, a gnawing feeling tugging at the back of my mind.
It’s been weeks since the announcement of my leaving the Football24 family and my following is still at an all time low.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do, Logan. Reporting is all I’ve ever known.”
He reaches over and cups my jaw, a mischievous look in his face. “How about you just focus on enjoying the night out with your hot date.”
Guilt pokes at me and I let myself really absorb the night before us. Lucy showed up at my new apartment door three days ago with a custom tea-length, cap-sleeved, black and white floral print cocktail dress and an appointment card to see Fallon early this afternoon, effectively taking all the prep for tonight’s ceremonies off my already overwhelmed hands. Emma called earlier in the day to say the launch party is set to go off without a hitch. So really, I have no reason to be concerned. But with all the changes going on in my life, it’s hard not to worry how everything will play out.
The move to San Antonio was stressful, especially since I refused to let Logan pay for anything and my severance pay barely covered everything. I had hoped to get some freelance assignments to keep me afloat for the first couple of months in Texas, but it appears I’ve been put on some temporary probation with all the major networks for at least the remainder of this season. My new blog isn’t doing nearly as well as I had hoped it would, but thanks to Logan being willing to publicly back my newest idea, I’ve had enough on my plate to keep me distracted.
“Have I mentioned how beautiful you look tonight?” He squeezes my hand as he turns my car into the parking lot.
I look up at him to thank him, and find him smirking. He puts the car in park and turns to me, a twinkle in his eye I’ve only noticed since I moved to Texas.
“You ready to for this?” he asks as he tenderly rubs his thumb over my shaking fingers.
I glance at the gold and silver balloons floating on either side of the walkway that leads to the front door, and take a deep breath. The shiny new letters on the Lost and Found Home sign glow like beacons as twilight descends around us. Turning back to my dashing date, I feel the certainty of how right the life-changing decisions I’ve recently made truly are.
“I am. But the real question is, are you ready for tonight?”
He smiles contentedly before reaching up and cupping my face. “I’ve only been certain of a handful of things in my life. Jesus, my physical death, taxes, and you. If you say this cause is worth it, then, yes, I’m ready.”
The depth of his love and devotion pulls at every single one of my heartstrings. My heart skips a beat as he leans across the console and places a quick kiss on my lips before he smoothly slips out the driver’s side of my car. Taking a deep breath and anticipating the tingles that still sizzle from his touch, I reach for his hand when he opens my door. His tries to slip my hand to his elbow as we make our way inside, but I need his strength, so I slip our fingers together and hold on for dear life. He chuckles beside me as he helps me into the renovated house.
The design was kept simple and understated for good reason, but I took a note out of Maggie’s book and made sure that in every direction one could look, it would feel like what a real home should feel like. From the gently used, overstuffed couches, to the quilts on every twin sized bed, everything in the house was donated with the kind of love I hope the future occupants will come to feel.
“You look fabulous!” Lucy sings as she rushes past the small smattering of guests. They all eye her, in all her fushia covered glory, with amused grins, easily loving the light of the party. She wraps her arms around me before taking up my hands and holding them out so she can fully take me in. “I told you the pattern would be perfect for her, didn’t I, Logan?”
He pulls his eyes away from me long enough to acknowledge his sister. “You did a great job, Luce, but I’m sure Allie was perfectly capable of picking out a dress on her own.”
She scoffs at him like he just told her that Kate Spade is a toad. I grin, knowing he only said something to rile her up.
“Well, I thank you. With everything going on, I hadn’t even taken two seconds to consider what I’d wear tonight. You are an angel.”
Lucy blushes for just a moment before winking at me. “I know.”
Fortunately, Jillian and Sam enter the house behind us, distracting Lucy so that Logan is able to sweep me into the large, completely remodeled kitchen. His wolfish grin adds giddiness to the mess of emotions I’m already battling tonight. He pulls me close and wraps his arms around my waist. When he leans down to kiss me, I ward him off. His poor, rejected look makes me giggle nervously.
“If I kiss you right now, I’ll forget my speech.”
He chuckles and tucks me into his warm chest. “Fair enough. But later…”
“Later, you can help me by volunteering for a shift.”
He eyes me cautiously. “How did I know I’d get roped into doing more than loaning the start-up funds?”
Giving him a contented smile as I wrap my arms around his waist, I wink. “Because you love me.”
He opens his mouth to contest how his love for me does not constitute his being volun-told for shifts at the Lost and Found Home, I’m sure, but Emma pops her head through the door, relief flooding her face.
“Oh, there you are. I have Laurie Ramirez from Channel 6 News who would like a quick interview.” Emma darts a pointed glance to Logan and another nervous giggle escapes me.
“What?” Logan asks defensively, his wide eyes darting from me to his sister and back.
“Just let Allie do all the talking, okay?” Emma sighs and all but pushes us out of the kitchen.
Laurie, a petite hispanic woman with a great complexion and stunningly shiny hair greets Logan and me with a wide, bleached smile. She greets us before turning to her camera man and signaling for him to start recording.
“I’m here with San Antonio Rattlers wide-receiver, Logan Lassiter, and his notorious girl-friend, Allie Mooreland, at the ribbon cutting ceremony for the Lost and Found Home.” Even though we’ve been at this for a few months now, it still makes me ecstatic to hear anyone call me that. Girlfriend, not notorious. “The Lost and Found Home, a shelter where teenage girls can come to to get off the streets, is set to formally open its doors later this month. Allie, could you give us some more details about the Home? Who is welcome and what they can expect while they’re here. ”
“Sure. The Lost and Found Home is a place for girls—who have found themselves out on the streets and in need of safety and shelter—to come and get a warm meal and place to sleep without the fears they face every other day. Through monetary donations, like Logan’s, and household donations from all over the local communities, we’re prepared to house up to fifteen teenage girls at any time. We’ve also partnered with local churches and group homes to help the girls find more permanent placements that will help them get back on their feet and point them in a direction that will help break the cycles they often find themselves in.”
Laurie grins supportively. “And if a young lady should find herself in need of the services at the Lost and Found Home, is there anything she needs to do to get her meal and a warm bed?”
I feel Logan beaming proudly at me as I explain that anyone who shows up during our business hours will be welcome. I also shamelessly plug in the need for volunteers to help cook and supervise in there somewhere, and before we know it, Laurie has cued the cameraman to pack up, and is hugging me and thanking us for letting her get the first report on the new house.
“I’m working with the rest of the Channel 6 team to raise awareness for you guys, too. We’ve thrown out ideas like fundraisers or volunteer sign up challenges. What do you guys need the most?”