Forgiving the Football Player

by Emma St Clair

  “I wasn’t trying to—” Cilla started, but Adele pinned her with a fierce look. Cilla blew out a breath. “Fine. I was. I’m just so used to doing it that I can’t seem to stop myself.”

  “Well, make that a goal. Forgive yourself. Forgive the people who let you down. And stop pushing everyone away.”

  Rolling her eyes, Cilla made an inglorious snort. “Right. I’ll get on that super-easy task list of things to do. I’m so glad I came to you for help. It’s no wonder you’re my best friend.”

  Adele crossed her arms, tossing her copper hair over her shoulder. “You’re doing it again.”

  “Right. Well, just because I come in here and spill all my dirty secrets doesn’t mean you have free rein to just call me on all my faults now.”

  “It doesn’t?” Adele took on an innocent tone, blinking her eyes dramatically.

  Cilla glared. “No. It doesn’t. I shared in confidence. You can’t just keep throwing my mistakes in my face.”

  “I’m not. And I don’t plan to. But as your best friend, I’m going to help you. And this is a cry for help if I’ve ever seen one. Let’s start with one thing. Just one.”

  She held up a finger. Cilla couldn’t believe she was actually listening to this. She didn’t want to work on this. Everything was too hard, too ugly, too broken. She had six years of bitterness to uncoil from her gut. Not happening. It would be easier just to keep on living as she had.

  “You’re going to forgive Pax and stop punishing him for leaving you and listening to your father. Then you’re going to see if you can salvage that relationship.”

  “Now you’re all about forgiving Pax?”

  Adele shrugged. “We talked it out. And it’s easier for me. I’m not emotionally invested the same way you are. But yes. You asked earlier what kind of man could leave you. The thing is, Pax wasn’t a man. Technically, yeah, he was eighteen. But remember back to high school. Were you really grown? Or did we just feel like we were mature because we were the oldest we’d ever been? Pax was a boy. Yeah, he should have chosen better. But I get why he did what he did. It was a mistake. A young kid’s mistake when he blamed himself for hurting the girl he loved and had a man, a father figure even if your dad didn’t deserve that title for Pax, who told him to go. So he went. It was wrong, but I get it. I can forgive it. I think you can too. More than that. I think you want to.”

  Cilla’s breath had been ripped straight out of her chest. Adele sat back on the couch, looking satisfied. The truth settled down in Cilla’s chest like silt at the bottom of a river.

  Could she forgive Pax?

  Did she really want to?

  It wasn’t even a question. Absolutely she wanted to. Cilla wanted nothing more than to have more moments like the ones they had earlier that afternoon. She wanted to know all the pieces of his life she’d missed over the last six years. She didn’t want to go on missing any more of those moments. She loved him. She did.

  But that realization completely terrified her.

  So, no. She couldn’t let go of the anger. It was too dangerous for her heart.

  “I’ve got to go,” Cilla muttered, spinning in her chair and wheeling to the door.

  “What? No! Stay. I’ve got the guest room all set up and fresh towels in the bathroom. Don’t drive when you’re upset.”

  “Are you going to criticize my driving now too?” Cilla spun back to face her friend, watching with deep shame as Adele’s face fell. That’s what she wanted when she tossed out that barb.

  So why didn’t it make her feel better?

  Adele didn’t speak, only shaking her head. Cilla managed to leave the house and close the door behind her without Adele getting up or saying anything else. Fresh tears assaulted Cilla’s cheeks, but she held in the ugly cries. At least until she got into her car, folded up her chair, and shut the door.

  Then the dam burst again. Cilla’s eyes burned, and her throat and chest ached. Adele was wrong. None of this was a good thing. Which is why she was going to double down on her efforts to keep Pax—and anyone else—out of her heart.

  The pain was simply too great.

  Chapter Fifteen

  If Pax had any question which version of Cilla he would get the next day, she made it clear with her first smile. It looked less like a smile and more like a thinly-veiled threat that cut right through his ribs.

  Back to the anger, he thought, taking in a deep breath. Remember. This is what you deserve. Just take it. She may try to hurt you, but she’s really hurting herself. Don’t rise to the bait.

  Easier thought than done. Especially once the camera crew arrived at Wheels UP. They set things up towards the back of the main office, Anita directing the video crew as to where they could move tables and chairs to set up their lights and equipment. The sight of it all made Pax’s stomach churn. Unless forced to do so, he avoided interviews. He knew that he didn’t tend to come across well with his gruff voice and one-syllable answers. Cilla looked way too happy about it all, which made him wonder what she had planned.

  Five minutes before the interview, Pax locked himself in a stall, emptying his stomach.

  When he returned to the makeshift set, Cilla was already positioned under the lights, looking beautiful in spite of the heavy makeup the crew had caked on her face. They tried to touch his up after the trip to the bathroom, but one glare sent the woman with the foundation scurrying away.

  Lawrence had sent a string of texts that morning when Pax didn’t answer his phone, reminding him to be charming and to smile. Everything’s on the line for you, his last message said. But Lawrence didn’t know that Pax had nothing left to lose.

  Pax took his seat and Cilla grabbed his hand. He held her gaze for a long moment. “Are you sure about this?”

  For the briefest moment, something genuine flashed across her face. Then it was gone, her hard mask firmly back in its place. “Relax. This is a win-win for you and for the charity. We’ll spill some details about our love affair and promote a charity.”

  Love affair. Her words made the complicated relationship between them sound like less than what they had, and also more. It made him feel cheap. All of this did.

  “I don’t want to lie,” Pax said. What he meant, really, was that he wanted all this to be real.

  “Then best to keep quiet and leave the talking to me,” Cilla said.

  Which he did, for the most part. Other than when the interviewer pressed him specifically on questions, Pax watched Cilla put on a show. She giggled, smiled, gave him flirty looks, and shared just the right amount without going overboard. He would have been impressed if every moment of the charade hadn’t felt painful. The problem was that he wanted it to be true. All of it.

  “And what about the fighting ring you were caught in earlier this week, Pax? How has that impacted your career?”

  He swallowed. “That was a poor decision on my part. Growing up, I had a bit of a rough period. Coming home, I guess I fell back into my old ways. It was a mistake and I fully expect to be suspended by the league. If that’s the case, it’s what I deserve for my behavior. I’m sorry to all the fans that I’ve disappointed.”

  “What about Cilla? How did this poor decision impact your relationship?”

  Pax flicked his eyes toward Cilla, swallowing hard. Six years ago, the fighting meant that she got behind the wheel of a car and lost the use of her legs. The impact on both their lives and their relationship had been disastrous. Not that he could say that.

  Cilla squeezed his hand and leaned forward, almost coming between Pax and the camera. “I was disappointed. But it’s easier for me to forgive because I know Pax. He’s got a good heart underneath this rough exterior. I get to see the sweetheart that he really is.”

  She placed her palm on the center of his chest, smiling at the cameras. Her hand lingered longer than it needed to, and Pax felt the rush of blood to his heart as it began to thump an erratic beat.

  If only it were that easy to earn her forgiveness.

  If only
she meant her kind words about him.

  Instead, her words and her soft touch felt like a tease. A twisting of the knife that she’d buried to the hilt in his chest. Pax’s eyes fell to the floor. He couldn’t look at her. Or at the cameras. He just needed to be out of the lights, out of the center of attention.

  “Let’s talk about you, Cilla. You’ve spoken about Wheels Up, which sounds like an amazing charity. What is it like actually living life as a paraplegic?”

  Cilla’s hand tightened on his. Pax could feel the difference between this squeeze and the ones she’d been giving him through the rest of the interviews. Those felt like punishments, reminders of why they were here. This felt like an involuntary reaction, like discomfort. Terror.

  Pax’s glare fell on the man interviewing them. He’d already forgotten his name, but he had a ridiculous nickname he insisted they use. Robert Kugler, call me Kugs. That was it. Pax contemplated tossing him across the room. He was pretty scrawny. Half his body weight was probably in the hair product on top of his head.

  “First of all, I’m living life as a woman with paraplegia. That may seem like a small distinction to you, but it actually is quite significant.”

  Pax squeezed her fingers, enjoying the way Kugs shifted in his chair.

  “Right.” He cleared his throat. “What’s it like living with paraplegia?”

  Cilla smiled. “That’s better. But honestly, it’s very much like typical living. I work here at Wheels Up. I drive a car. I have friends and a social life. I love to go dancing. Like many people, I get irritated by bad drivers and a little grumpy without my morning coffee. I spend too much time watching my friend Adele’s makeup tutorials on Instagram.”

  “Wow. You must be really proud of her,” Kugs said. The tone of his voice felt like ants crawling up Pax’s spine.

  “I’m proud of her because she’s an amazing woman. Not because she learned how to adjust to using a wheelchair, if that’s what you’re implying.”

  “Oh—I just meant—”

  “Why don’t we move on, Robert?” Cilla’s smile was wide, but her tone was icy.

  Kugs shuffled the cards in his lap, clearly trying to keep his cool. Pax glanced beyond the lights to the small group who had gathered to watch. Anita’s mouth had become a hard line and the stiffness in her shoulders clearly displayed her irritation. But Becca gave Cilla a thumbs up and a wide smile. Pax could only guess how many times wheelchair users went through these kinds of rude or invasive questions.

  “I know that our viewers probably have a lot of relationship questions for you,” Kugs said. “Why don’t you tell us about the two of you.”

  Pax tried not to tense. Cilla patted his arm. “We’ve known each other since high school, and even dated back in the day. Recently, we reconnected. Maybe it’s the Christmas spirit, but things have happened quickly.”

  “And is it challenging to be in a relationship with someone like Pax?”

  What, exactly, did that question imply? Before Pax could demand an answer, Cilla gave a small laugh. “You mean someone who’s roguishly handsome, famous, and also a bit of a grump at times?”

  Pax felt his cheeks warm a little at her words, even if she didn’t mean them.

  Kugs chuckled. “I meant more the fact that you’re so different. Is it challenging that his career is built on his physical abilities, while you’re disabled?”

  Pax would have leaped from his seat, but Cilla pushed at his chest. He glanced her way and she shook her head, eyes burning. He settled back. Maybe he’d let her handle this now but no guarantee he wouldn’t be having a conversation with this guy in the parking lot later. Forget PR.

  “That’s an interesting question, Robert. You’re asking if it’s a challenge for me as a wheelchair user to date someone who is able-bodied. The short answer is no. It’s not. The bumps in our relationship are not caused by the fact that I don’t have use of my legs.”

  A sheen of sweat formed on Kugs’ forehead. “I guess, uh, the question on people’s minds is how your relationship might be difficult because of your condition.”

  “Well, we can’t go on long walks on the beach. At least, not without the chair I have that navigates well on sand. I’m actually blessed to have the means to afford something like that. Not everyone has that ability, which is one of the reasons what we do at Wheels Up is so important.”

  Pax brushed his thumb over the back of Cilla’s hand. He couldn’t believe the audacious questions that this guy was asking, or that someone didn’t suggest a quick Google search on the best ways to communicate with wheelchair users. His ignorance was going to make him look idiotic and might make much of the interview unusable once the network got ahold of it. He realized that one of the men in the office was filming on his phone. Good. Maybe Kugs would get a heavy dose of media scrutiny.

  Cilla was finishing up a well-worded series of talking points about Wheels Up. The interview had to be nearing a close.

  “That’s really great to hear. I’m glad this organization does so much good.” Kugs’ eyes darted between Cilla and Pax. “One of the questions that I’m sure you get often is how does everything work between you?”

  Pax’s brow furrowed as he tried to understand the question. From the way Cilla stiffened beside him, clearly, she understood it. There was a gasp from somewhere beyond the circle of lights. Pax replayed the words in his mind, understanding rushing over him in a hot wave of anger. Something like a growl emanated from his chest, but again, Cilla pressed her hand to his chest, steadying him.

  “Oh, you mean physically? You’re asking about our sexual relationship?” Cilla gave a short laugh. “Actually, we don’t get asked that often. Because it’s extremely invasive and personal. Since you asked, though, I’ll be very blunt and honest. Pax and I aren’t sexually active right now. I guess I’m a bit of a traditional girl in that way. But I’m absolutely able to have sex as well as bear children.”

  Pax listened to Cilla, vacillating between rage at Kugs and pride at the way Cilla was handling this whole messed-up interview. After it was said and done, Pax would not just have words with Kugs but with Lawrence. At this precise moment, though, his mind had snagged on the idea of children. One which he hadn’t thought about or even considered for himself. But glancing at Cilla’s profile and the strong set of her jaw offsetting her soft, full lips, Pax found himself picturing that life. A house, a future, a family with Cilla. He could almost taste the longing, stinging and sharp on his tongue.

  Giving Pax a quick smile, Cilla turned her fire back on Kugs. “Since you seem so intent on getting the details, I am still able to enjoy physical touch now. Again, Pax and I aren’t exploring all these aspects to our relationship, but when we do, I’ll be able to enjoy it. If you get my drift. Now, if we’re done with the invasive questions, maybe we could shift the focus back to the charity.”

  Cilla winked, and Kugs shifted again in his seat before wiping his brow. “Oh, I didn’t mean to be invasive—”

  Pax stood, his cheeks burning. “Sure you did.” He ripped off his lapel mic and dropped it to the floor. “Enough. This interview is over. I hope that after these ignorant and, frankly, insulting questions air, you find yourself looking for a job.”

  He turned, holding out his hand to Cilla. When she turned her gaze up to meet his, her smile moved over her face with the brilliance of the morning sun peeking over the horizon. She tore off her lapel mic, leaving it behind.

  Placing her palm in his, they moved past the cameras and the lights. And as Pax shifted to touch her shoulder so that she could have both hands for propelling herself, almost the entire Wheels Up office burst into applause. Everyone, that is, except Anita.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “I never would have pegged you for a Dancing with the Stars fan.”

  Elton’s voice startled Pax, and he immediately dropped his phone to the kitchen floor. “A little warning, man. You’re like a cat, creeping around the house.”

  He shouldn’t be embarrassed. It�
��s not like watching YouTube videos of wheelchair users dancing was anything to be ashamed of. But Pax’s skin felt hot at being discovered watching the videos.

  It was a silly thing. He didn’t even know that Cilla would want to dance with him at the Wheels Up dinner dance. Maybe she would be back to running or not speaking to him. But after she had mentioned dancing during the interview, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. He wanted—no, needed—to know exactly what dancing with Cilla might be like.

  Or maybe she hated dancing now. It was impossible to pick through the truths in her statements during the interview with Kugs. If she wanted to dance tonight, though, he would be the best partner she ever had. Despite his three left feet. His dancing skills had not improved since high school, when he could put his hands on her waist and sway. Without that possibility, he needed some research. Also known as YouTube.

  “It’s not creeping when it’s my house.” Elton leaned under the table, fishing out the phone and handing it back to Pax. Not without frowning down at the screen first. His eyebrows shot up. “You’re taking Cilla dancing?”

  Pax turned the phone off and crossed his arms. “There’s a dinner and dance tonight before the event tomorrow. She’s my date.”

  “Uh-huh.” Elton narrowed his eyes. “Fake date. Right? Or have you two finally admitted that there’s nothing fake about any of this?” When Pax didn’t answer, Elton continued. “I see. Still paying your penance.”

  “It’s not like that.”

  “What’s it like? You love her. It’s as obvious as the fact that Adele likes my boneheaded brother.” His voice sounded surprisingly bitter.

  “Adele likes Easton?” Pax hadn’t paid much attention to Cilla’s redheaded best friend the other night. He’d been too focused on every move, every word, every laugh from Cilla. It seemed he had missed this. And, based on Elton’s tone, that wasn’t the only thing he hadn’t picked up on.

  “Forget I said anything.” Elton shook his head. “The point is that you and Cilla should be together. Period. Whatever it takes to push through and get there, do it.”