Love on the Highlight Reel (Connecticut Kings Book 2)

by Christina C Jones

  She quickly looked around, stepping away before she gave me a look of censure. “Stop it. There are people around,” she hissed.

  “People who will see me flirting with you, just like always. Relax.”

  Nicki ran her tongue over her teeth as she folded her arms. “You should go get ready for practice. No time off, remember?”

  “Oh I do. You and I need to talk though. Remember?”

  She dropped her gaze to her feet. “Yes.”

  “Good,” I said, stepping around her to walk away. I stopped beside her, dipping my head to murmur in her ear. “Don’t think for a second I’m going to let you forget.”

  thirteen

  I didn’t think for a second that Jordan would forget I’d promised to talk to him.

  As a matter of fact, I knew he wouldn’t, so I did the most sensible thing I could possibly do – I ran.

  It wasn’t even that I didn’t want to talk to Jordan – I was terrified to. I was confused about my feelings, unsure about my next steps, and worst of all, I felt… not in charge. Not in control. My personal life – my love life – was in disarray, and I had no idea how to deal.

  So I didn’t.

  I threw myself into work instead.

  I kept myself busy enough that I didn’t have to lie when Jordan would reach out about us getting together. For a whole three days, I managed to duck and dodge him in the front office halls, handling any professional questions he had via email, and staying away from my office afterhours. I wasn’t naïve though. I knew that if Jordan wanted to badly enough, he would force the issue with me – something he proved by sending a handwritten note to me through a waiter, while I was at the “working lunch” I’d made up just to avoid meeting with him.

  You can’t run forever. What are so you afraid of? – JJ.

  Ha.

  What wasn’t I afraid of?

  There was the possibility of getting hurt and/or betrayed. The possibility of that happening for the world to see. The possibility of that happening and ruining my reputation before my career even had a chance to get started. There was so much more than just my feelings to consider, and Jordan didn’t seem to understand that.

  So I had to make him.

  I found him on the practice field, so late that he had to have bribed someone to turn on the lights. It was a little bit surreal, the way it reminded me of being in the small stadium of our college games. My memories of those times were vivid – so vivid it was hard to separate from here and now.

  Which was yet another thing I was afraid of.

  A call to his security guy, Kendrick, informed me that he was out running drills, and that’s exactly what he was doing when I perched myself on the cold metal bleachers at the sideline. I was bundled against the cool fall weather, but Jordan wasn’t. I had no idea how long he’d been out there, but the sprinting, quick turns, and footwork practice he’d been doing had probably made him hot.

  I sat there, just watching, for long minutes. Jordan was an incredible athlete, possessing the speed, grace, strength, and beauty of a panther. I’d grown up as a football fan, but my interest had only ever been in the game itself before I met Jordan. Even though my father had come into fame and fortune through football, it was Jordan who brought me to appreciate the intellect and skill, the energy and athleticism that were required to play well. So until he noticed I was there, I just admired him.

  He took a break to catch his breath, and jogged to the sideline to grab a bottle of Gatorade he’d left there. He unscrewed the top, took a long drink, and placed it down again before he looked up at me with that dimpled smile.

  “Guess you got tired of ducking and dodging, huh?”

  I shrugged. “That’s not what I was doing.”

  “Then what do you call it?”

  “Figuring things out.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “And what did you figure out?”

  “Not a damned thing.”

  Shaking his head, Jordan walked up to me and grabbed my hand, pulling me up from my seat. “Come on. Let’s see if you can still throw.”

  “Excuse me?” I asked, heart racing as he unzipped my leather jacket and peeled it down my arms.

  “You heard me.” He bent down, picking up a football from the bag tucked under the bench. “You throw, I’ll catch. Don’t throw it like a girl, either. Throw it,” he said, smacking me on the ass.

  My lips parted in protest, but he was already ten yards away, and still moving. He stopped around twenty yards from me, then clapped his hands, signaling for me to go ahead and throw it. My eyes narrowed as that “don’t throw it like a girl” comment replayed in my head. Obviously, I couldn’t deliver the kind of throws that Trent could, but I ran backwards a few steps, planted my foot, pulled my arm back, and threw the ball with everything I had… right past Jordan.

  He’d already had his hands ready, and his feet ready to run forward to catch the ball. The distance I got seemed to catch him off guard for a second, but he quickly recovered, putting on a burst of speed to dive and catch the ball before it hit the ground.

  “Uh-oh Mr. Johnson,” I teased, as he jogged back to me with the ball. “You seemed a little unprepared.”

  He chuckled. “Hell, I was unprepared for you to throw a fucking thirty yard pass. How?”

  “Practice. And a good teacher. You must have forgotten who my daddy is. No way Eli Richardson would raise a child who couldn’t throw a football.”

  “I didn’t forget, I just… didn’t think you still had it. You’re little miss corporate now, with a law degree and Prada shoes.”

  “But I’m still the same girl who used to throw passes for you in that big field behind the science building,” I shot back.

  Jordan grinned, moving closer so that nothing but the football was keeping us from touching. “Passes aren’t the only thing you used to throw at me in that field behind the science building.”

  “Stop.”

  He laughed, then smacked my butt again before he pushed the ball back into my hands. “Come on. Throw the ball.”

  So I threw the ball.

  For nearly an hour, we threw, and ran, and chased, and I was grateful that I’d worn flat boots and comfortable jeans to the field. I had the ball in my hands when I bent at the waist to catch my breath, and I screamed when Jordan ran up to me at full speed, snatching me off the ground.

  “Ahhh! Put me down!”

  He didn’t put me down, but he did stop running. His arms were clutched around my thighs, so I was basically sitting on his hands, with the ball wrapped tight in my arms.

  “Aiight,” he said, looking me right in the face. “Now that practice is over, you ready to let me play for your heart?”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Boy, you can’t be serious. This ain’t love and basketball.”

  “Right. It’s love and football. So are we playing, or not?”

  Instead of answering, I averted my gaze, and let out a heavy sigh. Jordan lowered me, allowing my feet to touch the ground, and I immediately stepped away, needing some distance.

  “So you’re not ready to stop ducking and dodging, huh?” he called out, making a pang of guilt prick me in the chest.

  I turned around. “Why can’t you seem to understand that it’s not like that?! It’s simple for you – you like me, I like you, let’s be a couple. But it’s not that easy for me!”

  “Why the fuck not?!”

  I shook my head as moisture sprang to my eyes. “It just isn’t,” I said, blinking back the tears. “I have so much to lose, Jordan. My career, my reputation, my dignity. I’m supposed to risk that, not to mention the possibility of getting hurt?”

  “You think you’re the only one concerned about getting hurt? I’m rolling the damned dice too.”

  I swallowed. “Right. Because I screwed you over before. Don’t worry, I won’t forget.”

  “Goddamit, that’s not even why I said that—”

  “But it really is, isn’t it?’ I asked, dropping the ball to cross my arms o
ver my chest. “I broke your heart, and I have the nerve to consider you a risk to be taken. It’s fucked up, and it’s unfair. It’s not endearing. It’s not appealing. I don’t understand why I would be appealing to you, of all people, beyond maybe wanting to fuck me, and you’ve done that already. So what is this, Jordan. What do you want from me?”

  “I want you to stop trying to sabotage our potential, Nicki. That’s what the fuck I want from you,” he said, stepping in front of me. “The things I loved about you haven’t changed.”

  “But I have. And so have you. We can’t build a relationship based on feelings we had for each other in college.”

  “But we also can’t pretend they don’t exist. I understand you wanting to develop mature understandings of each other, and there’s nothing wrong with that. Nothing wrong with wanting to get to know each other in the here and now. But my feelings for you, no matter when they originated, are a fact. And I’m not going to pretend otherwise.”

  I sighed. “So what does that even mean? When I’m over here, and you’re all the way over there? What do we do?”

  “We meet in the middle,” he shrugged, like it was beyond obvious. “I’m not trying to take you to the chapel tomorrow, crazy ass girl. But I’m saying… can we chill? Get to know each other again?”

  “Nothing too… serious?”

  He chuckled a little. “Whatever, Nicki. I guess we can start there.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “Of course you would,” he said, then grabbed my face between his hands. I moaned a little as he pressed his lips to mine. It felt so good that I didn’t even mind the saltiness from the sweat that had soaked his face, or the damp heat from his body as I melted against him.

  “Can “nothing too serious” include sex?” I practically purred into his mouth as he moved his hands down to grip my waist.

  “Nope. Dick is off-limits for you,” he teased.

  My mouth dropped open. “Seriously?!”

  “Hell nah. You’re about to go to my house right now, as a matter of fact.”

  “Are you asking, or telling?”

  He grinned, dropping his head to brush his lips against mine again. “Telling.” He smacked my ass for a third time, then moved away, heading inside. “I’m going to go shower. I expect to see your pretty ass in my bed within the next hour.”

  He didn’t wait for me to respond. He jogged into the practice building, leaving me standing there on the field alone. I thought about it for a few moments, then grabbed my jacket from the bench so I could get to my car.

  I couldn’t wait a whole hour.

  “You’re glowing.”

  Instead of responding to Mel’s comment, I busied myself with the steeper the server had brought to the table for my loose leaf tea.

  “I know you hear me, Cole. Is this your way of telling me to mind my business?”

  I smiled, then looked up. “Pretty much.”

  “Note taken,” Mel laughed. “But whoever has you grinning and glowing, keep him around. It looks good on you.”

  I bit my lip to keep from blushing, then gave her a little nod. “Note taken.”

  We’d had to cancel the first lunch date we scheduled, because I was so busy dealing with the influx of requests from the team. During bye week, everything that had gotten put off to focus on the season had to be addressed, so social meals had to be put aside. Now though, we were leading up to an away game, so the players were focused on practice.

  Which meant I could focus on other things.

  Like figuring out my personal life.

  I had the feeling that Mel hadn’t mentioned our talk, or this lunch date, to my father. He hadn’t brought it up yet, so I hadn’t either. Still, it had been heavy on my mind.

  Since the… whatever had happened between Jordan and I, I’d been considering my interpersonal relationships. I didn’t believe that I treated anyone badly, but when it came to Mel, I certainly could have been treating her better.

  I’d hurt Jordan, and I knew it. For all this time, the guilt of that had festered, and instead of addressing it, I tucked it away, just to have it all blow up. I didn’t want another episode like that, ever. With anybody.

  “So, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking since our last conversation,” I started, meeting Mel’s eyes. “And I want to apologize for being so detached with you. I… couldn’t verbalize a true reason if I tried, but it doesn’t change the fact that I could have, and should have, done more to build a connection with you. And I’m sorry.”

  Mel’s lips parted, and her eyes went wide in surprise. Her mouth moved for a few seconds, like she was trying to find the right words, and then she grabbed her water glass, taking a long sip.

  “I… apology accepted,” she said finally, shaking her head. “I have to say I wasn’t expecting that, at all. But I appreciate it. And honestly… I could have done more too. I guess that’s why I’ve never had any ill feelings toward you for not really trying. I wasn’t either, but I can verbalize my reasoning.”

  I lifted an eyebrow as I lifted the steeper, putting it on top of my cup to strain. “I’m listening.”

  “Risk avoidance.” She crossed her arms, propping her elbows on the table. “I loved your father, and he loved me. But he also loved the hell out of his kids. I knew that part of being with him was being accepted by his children, and at the time, I felt like it was better to have you act like I didn’t exist than to actively dislike me. If you’d told your father you hated me, that man would have dropped me like a bad habit. So your ambivalence worked in my favor.”

  I tipped my head to the side. “I… actually can’t be mad at that. It’s smart.”

  Mel grinned. “I like to think I’ve made more than a few good decisions in my life. But… you know, I’m still not sure that’s one of them. I wonder how different our relationship could be now if instead of just letting it ride, we’d made an effort to build some type of connection?”

  “I’ve actually wondered the same. But, it’s behind us now. No way to know. The only thing we can do is move forward. I don’t know that we’ll ever be besties, but… I guess it would be pretty cool to consider you a friend. Especially since it seems like you’re around for the long haul. And giving birth to my sibling.”

  “Yes, I think so,” Mel laughed. “One more person I can exhaust with baby talk.”

  I cringed. “Please don’t.”

  “Oh come onnnn. You don’t want babies some day?”

  My lips parted to say “Hell no,” but I stopped with my tongue pressed to the back of my teeth, paralyzed against sounding out those “L”s.

  Did I want babies?

  It was such an abstract thought for me. Again, the way I’d been raised was rearing up, showing me the deficiencies of not having my mother. I’d never stuck a stuffed animal under my shirt and pretended to be pregnant, never wanted a plastic baby doll to play house with, never dreamed of nurturing and loving something or someone so small.

  I did enough coddling and cultivating with two-hundred pound men.

  “I never really thought about it,” I answered, after a few moments had passed.

  Mel smiled. “Well, maybe you should. Maybe with whoever laid it down good enough to give you a whole new aura.”

  “No!” I snapped, louder than intended, and Mel jerked her head back.

  She raised her hands. “My mistake. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “No, no.” I shook my head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. It’s just that it’s not serious, and um… I’m focused on my career right now. This is my first year on this job, and I can’t really think about a baby.”

  She nodded. “I understand. It’s a huge, scary commitment. Especially when you’re married to someone who gets a lot of attention. Like your father.”

  “Scary?”

  “Yes, terrifying. Especially when you’ve lost a baby before. Every little thing has you concerned. And it doesn’t help that there is always someone ready to get into your bu
siness. I can’t even go into a maternity store yet, since we haven’t made it public. Who knew that the “shopping habits of the Kings’ owner’s wife” would be a headline? Certainly not me. But there I am, in the fashion and style pages, with photographs of me in stores, when I didn’t even see anybody with a camera.”

  I shook my head, then took a sip from my fruity herbal tea. “That’s part of being in this life. If you’re involved with the team, everything you do is under scrutiny. It’s not just the game that makes the news reports. Your life goes on the highlight reel.”

  “Exactly. At least the player’s wives and girlfriends have the “Queens” support group to help them figure it all out.”

  “Bless them,” I agreed.

  “I supposed I should stop complaining. The little attention I get is nothing compared to the borderline stalking they go through. You see how the media, and the female fans reacted to the rumors about Trent Bailey being taken. The whole world went bat shit. I suppose I got lucky that Eli was retired by the time he and I started dating. I couldn’t imagine the pressure and scrutiny of dating a player. Especially during the season.”

  “Yeah,” I said, taking another gulp. “Crazy.”

  I thought back to just that morning… how good it had felt to wake up with Jordan in my bed. In the week that had passed since our conversation on the practice field, there had only been two nights we hadn’t made our way to each other’s home. And it was just now occurring to me how reckless that was. How was it that I could do a good job helping the players manage their lives and maintain their privacy, while being so haphazard with my own?

  “Anyway,” Mel said, picking up her menu. “I’m starving, and I’m feeling like a huge salad is the cure. Do you know what you’re having?”

  I sighed. “No, not yet.”

  I picked up my own menu, burying myself in the selections so I could get everything else off of my mind.