Scrambling (Out in the NFL Book 1)

by Lex Valentine

  “Evan?” he rasped as they lifted the stretcher onto a cart.

  The beloved face wove into view above him, the sandy hair damp with sweat and stuck to his brow, his blue eyes worried. “Right here, Reed.”

  “Don’t leave me.” He didn’t want to go to the hospital without Evan. He needed Evan to help him maintain control.

  A tense smile quirked Evan’s lips. “I won’t. Whatever you need, Reed, I’m there. You know that.”

  “I do.” He closed his eyes on a wave of gratitude and love. “I can handle anything if you’re here.”

  “You’re gonna be fine. Doc says so. They’re just being cautious.”

  “I believe it when you say it.”

  Evan’s grin widened, his gaze exuding comfort. “Then believe it.”

  At the hospital, Evan stuck close by him, only leaving his side when the doctors made him. Finally, ensconced in a hospital bed with his head and neck immobilized in a collar, Reed faced a phalanx of medical professionals and team representatives that included Head Coach Dreyfus, Darcy, the team doctor, a nurse, two orthopedic surgeons, and a specialist on spinal cord injuries. Evan stood by the side of his bed, dressed in a T-shirt and jeans. Reed realized someone had brought his friend his clothes because he distinctly remembered Evan still dressed in his uniform in the ambulance.

  “The good news is that there is no spinal cord injury. The bad news is that there’s what we call a compression fraction of the C6 vertebrae. It’s going to require a cervical collar be worn for the next seven or eight weeks.” The head orthopedic surgeon pointed to one of the X-rays. “It also means you’re out of the play-offs, Reed. In fact, you may want to consider retiring. Another hit like this one, and you could be looking at a much more serious injury, including paralysis.”

  Reed glanced at Evan and found him frowning. “I don’t have to make that decision now, do I? I mean, this isn’t a career-ending injury, is it?”

  The surgeon shook his head. “No, you don’t have to decide now, and it doesn’t appear to be a career-ending injury at this time. However, the final decision on that is going to depend on how your recovery goes. For now, we’ll keep you here for a few days for observation and to ensure the neck stays completely immobile.”

  After that, Reed didn’t hear all the other things the doctors and coach said. He smiled up at Darcy when she patted his cheek softly and left with the coach. The doctors filed out and left him alone with the nurse and Evan. The nurse gave him a pain pill for his excruciating headache and then left.

  Evan stood over him so he could see his face. “You scared the crap out of me today, Reed,” he said softly. “I thought you were paralyzed. That hit was hard, and you went down with a loud crack. We all thought you broke something.”

  “I did. I broke my neck.” Reed smiled up at Evan who frowned.

  “Don’t joke.”

  “I’m not. Didn’t you hear the orthopedic guys? I basically broke my neck.” He grimaced. “Maybe not badly but still.”

  Evan ran a hand through his sweat-spiked hair. “I’m going to run home and shower. They said there’s no restrictions on your food, so I’ll pick us up some dinner and come back to keep you company, okay?”

  “What would I do without you?” he murmured, the fear for his health turning into a fear of being without Evan.

  “Eat shitty hospital food,” Evan teased with a chuckle. “You know, I could be mean and bring you soup, but I’ll be back in a bit with some fried chicken. You should be able to hold a drumstick to your mouth without much trouble. Although seeing you dribbling soup all over yourself and never getting any in your mouth would be suitable payback for the scare you gave me today.”

  When Evan left, Reed thought about everything that had happened. He’d had a narrow escape. Next time, he might not be so lucky, especially now that he’d already injured his neck once. He realized he had some decisions to make, but he had time in which to make them.

  Deciding to give up football was a big step. Football had been his life for almost twenty years. Letting go of it would be difficult. And leaving the game while Evan still played would be even harder. It would be like leaving Evan, like turning his back on their lifelong friendship. They’d been together so long Reed couldn’t imagine not seeing him every day at the team complex. He couldn’t imagine Evan playing with another quarterback. He couldn’t believe he was even thinking of quitting and walking away from Evan.

  Their friendship was the most prized thing in the world to Reed. He had given up his dream of being Evan’s partner in order to preserve that friendship. After Len’s death he’d wanted to tell Evan how much he loved him, had wanted to pursue a romantic relationship with him, but he’d set that all aside to save their friendship when Evan had wanted to forget about their night together. He couldn’t lose his best friend. He knew he’d break if he did.

  The headache he’d had since he’d been tackled sent relentless waves of pain through his skull. He closed his eyes. If he retired, it didn’t mean he’d lose Evan. He just wouldn’t see him all the time. And there was time enough to figure everything out while he was recuperating. Two months of immobility while his team went to the play-offs and possibly the Super Bowl.

  Reed sighed. Again his life floated out of his control. He hated the sensation. But he knew it was only for a short while. Soon, he’d be back in the driver’s seat, choosing his own destiny. He hoped it wouldn’t be one that took him down a road away from Evan.

  The Stars lost in the play-offs, and Johnson Sims suffered a knee injury. Not career ending, but one that required surgery and some rehab time. Sitting on the sidelines in his cervical collar and street clothes, Reed wondered at the bad luck that had plagued the team. Injuries were common enough in professional sports, but Reed had hoped to have a long and fruitful career that didn’t end on a sour note with an injury. Unfortunately, it appeared he’d be just another statistic.

  He’d pretty much decided he wouldn’t risk playing again. The doctors hadn’t been all that happy with his recovery and had recommended more time in the collar. They as much as told him he could be risking his life by returning to professional football. Now all that was left to do was give his decision to the coach, the team management, and Evan. That and figure out how he’d survive without football and his best friend.

  Fear of the unknown kept him silent all through the play-offs, but eventually, a couple of weeks after the Super Bowl, he knew he couldn’t put it off any longer. He still had a week left in the collar when he called Evan and asked him to drive him to the team offices. He made an appointment with Coach Dreyfus and asked that Darcy be there too. He had a feeling that the coach and Darcy would know what the meeting was all about. After all, they knew the doctors hadn’t been whooping it up over his miraculous recovery.

  Walking into the complex at Evan’s side, Reed could feel the good-byes in his gut. Pain and disappointment, fear, and more than a little panic and sadness. He didn’t know what to do with his life without football. And he sure as hell wasn’t sure what he’d do without Evan around every day.

  Once they were all seated in Coach Dreyfus’s office, Reed got right to the point.

  “The doctors aren’t happy with my recovery, and they’re advising me to retire,” he said abruptly. “I’m going to take their advice. Football has been my life for nearly twenty years, and I can’t imagine what I’ll do without it, but not playing is better than being a paraplegic or dead. I’m sorry, Coach.”

  Coach Dreyfus nodded wearily. “It’s okay, Reed. You have to do what’s best for you. The team will understand. We’ve all been there before, seen players hurt so badly that their health was affected. We don’t want to lose you, but we don’t want you to end up like that either.”

  “What will you do?” Darcy asked him quietly, her sharp eyes assessing.

  Reed shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve always had football. I don’t know how to do anything else. I guess for now, concentrate on getting better. Once my neck is
healed, I’ll figure out the rest.”

  Through the entire meeting, which included some contractual things that the coach and Darcy said they’d send through to Reed’s agent, Evan remained silent. Afterward, he still didn’t speak as they walked to his Suburban. It wasn’t until they were halfway back to Santa Monica that he finally spoke up.

  “The Dolphins want me. They’re trying to trade for me,” he murmured in a resigned voice. “I didn’t want to go. I can’t imagine playing with another quarterback. Now I don’t know what to do.”

  Pain lanced Reed’s heart. Playing for the Dolphins meant that Evan would leave California. Somewhere in the back of his head he heard that old adage, If you love something, set it free.

  “You have to do what’s best for your career and you personally, Evan. Maybe moving to Florida is what you need. Bryce lives there most of the time, doesn’t he?”

  As much as it hurt Reed to bring up Bryce, he had to be honest. Reed was positive even time and distance wouldn’t break their friendship. Not after all these years. And he knew in his heart he couldn’t keep Evan at his side forever. It was time he let the love of his life go. Maybe someday Evan would come back.

  “Yeah. He has a house in South Beach.” Evan sighed heavily. “It’s good for my career, but I’m a California boy. I don’t really want to go to Florida.”

  “Hey, it’s not forever, and you’ll be traveling a lot of the time anyway. Make the most of your career while you have one,” Reed said hoarsely, his voice choked with emotion. “Look how easily it could all end.” He gestured to the cervical collar he wore, hoping like hell that his broken heart wasn’t apparent on his face.

  “I know. It’s just…I don’t want to leave you.”

  Evan’s whisper-soft words wrenched at Reed’s heart, but he steeled himself. He had to let Evan go. “It will be fine. We’ll be just a phone call or e-mail away from each other,” he reassured Evan even while his gut churned with pain and he fought not to cry. “Besides, you only have one shot to be great. Take it. The Dolphins will probably go to the Super Bowl next year, as good as they were this year. Ride the wave, buddy.”

  And that was how, a month later on an uncommonly icy spring day, Reed ended up standing alone in a terminal at LAX, watching Evan walk out of his life. The cold air outside had nothing on his frozen heart. For hours after Evan’s plane left, Reed stood staring out at the tarmac, numb to the core and unsure where his life was going now that he was really alone. He didn’t have football anymore, and he’d never had to deal with anything without Evan at his side. Now he had to learn to live without both of them. And he had to learn to deal with the fact that Evan might never come home. That fact hurt far more than the loss of football did.

  Tears welled in Reed’s eyes. He stared out at the planes taking off and wished he could get on one and chase after Evan, begging him not to go. He wished he’d done that instead of telling Evan to do what would further his career. But it was too late now. Evan was gone, and nothing in Reed’s life would ever be the same again.

  Age 28

  The game started out as every other game did. Nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing unusual. But then Evan started hearing little grumbles from the opposing defense players. Little digs about his sexuality.

  “Fuckin’ fairy.”

  And then a nudge with an elbow as he passed a player.

  “Outta the way, fag.”

  Two linemen who tackled him high-fived in triumph.

  “Think I made the girly man cry for his mama?”

  Evan would have been angry if it all wasn’t so damned pathetic and childish. Besides, Darcy had taught him well during his three seasons with the Stars. Never give the press or other players a reason to bring up his sexual orientation. So he remained stoic in the face of their bigotry even when it started to escalate to the way they singled him out on the field for exceptionally rough tackles.

  During halftime, the head coach sought him out. “You okay?” he asked gruffly.

  Evan nodded. “I’m okay. They’re just assholes. I can take a hit.”

  “They’re losing, so they’re gonna get worse,” Coach Ritter warned.

  “I know,” Evan said with resignation. “Story of my life, Coach. I’ll survive.”

  The coach stared at him hard for a moment, then moved on. Evan slumped against his locker. Usually, the remarks of homophobic players didn’t faze him, but today they tired him. When he returned to the field with his team, he wished the game was over. He didn’t want to play another two quarters. For the first time in his life, he just didn’t feel like playing football.

  He stood on the line of scrimmage with the ball in his gloved hands, and for a moment, he wished it were Reed behind him readying to take the snap. For the first time in at least three years, since he’d first hit the field with the Dolphins after leaving the Stars, he missed playing with Reed. His best friend had been a great quarterback, unlike the rookie he had behind him this year. The kid had no clue how to call plays.

  When Evan snapped the ball, he automatically blocked for the kid, but then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the rookie make a dash for it with the ball cradled under his arm. Fuck! Scrambling was not the kid’s strong point!

  Evan got away from the nose tackle and rushed to help protect his quarterback, but the kid slipped as he twisted away from the defensive linemen after him. He fell, and the ball popped loose. Everyone scrambled to land on the ball, and a whistle blew. Evan started to slow his forward momentum, but a dark shadow caught his attention and he turned his head just as one of the other players barreled into him, tackling him low. From his other side, another player hit him, and he crumpled beneath the double assault, blinding pain shooting from his lower leg as he felt one of the two players step on him.

  Black spots appeared before his eyes, and his head whirled as pain like he’d never felt before wreathed his body. He felt himself losing consciousness and fought to stay awake. A loud argument raged above him; the words “late hit” and “intentional roughness” were spoken. Then cool hands touched his arm, and one of the team’s trainers shone a light in his eyes.

  “You there, Evan? C’mon, buddy. Tell me you’re okay,” he muttered as his hands moved to take Evan’s pulse.

  “My leg.” Evan groaned. “I’m done.”

  The trainer tsked. “I know, buddy. I’m sorry. The stretcher’s coming, and we’ll get you to the hospital real quick. Once you’re in the ambulance, we’ll start a morphine drip. Just try to hold on until then.”

  “Reed. I need Reed.”

  The trainer’s brows rose. “Reed Matthews?”

  “Yes. Emergency contact,” he gritted out, pain nearly driving him unconscious.

  “Not your parents or Bryce?” The trainer shook his head. “Why didn’t I know this?”

  The stretcher arrived, and as they lifted Evan onto it, the pain burst through his skull like an imploding star, and he passed out.

  Halfway across the country in California, Reed screamed at his television in a panic. He’d seen the two players hit Evan and saw one of them deliberately step on Evan’s shin. He could just about hear the break. In one part of his mind, he knew it was a career-ending injury as visions of Joe Theisman being hit by Lawrence Taylor played out in his head. But the main part of his brain could only focus on the fact that Evan was hurt.

  Reed fumbled for his cell phone and called Evan. Four rings later it went to voice mail. With a curse, he realized Evan was out on the field being lifted onto a stretcher. He couldn’t answer his phone since it was probably in his locker deep in the bowels of the stadium.

  Reed watched as the stretcher left the field and the commentators said something about an ambulance and orthopedic surgeons. When Bryce’s face flashed onto the screen, Reed stiffened. A reporter was interviewing Evan’s lover.

  “I’ve already called my personal orthopedic surgeon. He’s the best in this part of the country. He’ll be meeting us at the hospital,” Bryce told the reporte
r.

  “How did you feel seeing your lover fall victim to the worst bit of NFL hazing on record?” the woman reporter prodded, thrusting the microphone back into Bryce’s face.

  Reed had to admire how cool Bryce was under fire. His jaw tensed, but otherwise, there was no outward sign of his anger.

  “Those two guys will be lucky to have contracts when all of this is said and done. You don’t deliberately end someone’s career because you’re homophobic,” Bryce said sternly. “This isn’t the nineteenth century. Being gay isn’t a crime, and it’s accepted pretty much everywhere in society now. What they did to Evan is nothing more than gay bashing, a hate crime which is illegal and won’t be tolerated in the NFL.”

  “Are you headed to the hospital now?” the reporter asked. “I imagine Evan will be asking for you.”

  Bryce smiled into the camera with his perfect smile, and Reed felt anger and jealousy rise within him.

  “Yes. I’ve done all I can here. I need to get to Evan now. If you’ll excuse me?”

  With a smile, Bryce left the television screen. There was more talk and speculation, but Reed ignored it. He thought of Bryce being able to go to the hospital to be with Evan while he was stuck in California, unable to even call the man he loved.

  His phone buzzed, and he saw that the caller was Evan’s father. He pressed a key to connect the call.

  “Mr. McAdam? Has anyone called you?”

  “Easy, son,” Evan’s dad soothed. “The team doc called us from the ambulance. He had our number but not yours even though he says Evan insists you’re his emergency contact.”

  “We did emergency contact paperwork years ago, Mr. McAdam, when we were both still with the Stars.” Reed paced the room, running his free hand through his hair as he tried to fight off his worry and speak coherently to Evan’s dad. “Did the doc tell you how Evan is?”