Forgiving the Football Player

by Emma St Clair

  If only she would stand and fight him. He could handle that. It at least gave him something to work with. But running? Ignoring? Putting back up those walls? He didn’t know where that left him at all.

  Jazz finally ran outside and jumped inside the cab. “Thanks for coming to get me! I’m excited about volunteering but a little nervous since I don’t know anyone other than you and Cilla. How’s that going, by the way? I’m so glad you’re back together. You always belonged together. Put in a good word for me about being a bridesmaid, okay?”

  Pax bit back all the bitter responses that came to mind and grunted a response. Thankfully Jazz moved right on. Somewhat.

  “Will Cilla be racing today? I don’t want to miss that.”

  “Yes. I don’t know when, but probably later in the day before the Sterling James concert. The younger age brackets start first.” Pax knew that from looking at the schedule Anita sent him, not because Cilla told him. In fact, when he messaged her, asking, she didn’t answer.

  “I still can’t believe you pulled off getting Sterling James here. Now that we’re talking again, expect a long list of favor requests.”

  Pax chuckled. Jazz’s light mood was slowly helping him shed the darkness wrapped around him. He may have lost Cilla—again? Still? —but fixing things with his sister was one bright spot from this week.

  “Send them all. I’ve got years to make up for. Though I did offer to pay for college. You didn’t respond to the emails I sent.”

  Jazz got quiet for the first time since she had gotten in the car. They were almost to Katy High School, where the event was being held. Pax glanced over to see Jazz playing with the strap of her purse and staring out her window.

  “Did you get my emails?” he asked.

  “I did.” She sighed, then turned in her seat to face him. “While I appreciate the gesture, I don’t want to take any more from you. Mama and I have done that enough. I want to pay for my own school.”

  “But I have the money. It will hardly make a dent.”

  Jazz touched his arm. “Again, I appreciate it. But this is one thing I’m going to do myself.” Her voice had a firm finality to it. Pax was disappointed, but he also understood. It made him feel proud of Jazz, her determination, her independence. Though he didn’t like imagining her with mountains of debt.

  “I respect that. If you ever change your mind, the offer is open. Even if you need a little supplement. Or, if you want to consider me your source for student loans. I guarantee my interest rates are better. Your choice. As far as getting you private concerts from Sterling James, that will be a no-go. I think I’ve cashed in all those favors.”

  Jazz laughed as they pulled into the already-crowded lot. The first races weren’t starting for another hour, but volunteers, staff, and vendors scurried around, setting things up on the ninth-grade football stadium and in the parking lot. There were food trucks, bouncy houses and other carnival-type games, and signs for the various athletic events. A stage near one end of the football field had been set up for the Sterling James concert later in the afternoon. Pax had been working on details all week but seeing it in person was another thing altogether.

  “This is pretty amazing,” Jazz said, gazing out the window, voicing his thoughts exactly. “I can’t believe you’ve kept your involvement quiet all these years. You’re a good guy, Pax.”

  “That’s stretching it a bit.” He gave a nervous chuckle, ducking his head under the weight of her praise.

  Jazz had already opened her door but turned back to grab Pax’s arm. “Hey. You are a good guy. Not perfect. Human. But you have a kind heart. Always have. Remember that.” She held his gaze, and Pax felt like she could somehow see everything beneath, all the things he was hiding and holding onto so tightly. “I have a feeling like you need to hear that today.”

  He did. Even if it was hard to accept or believe, having Jazz of all people say this meant something huge. His throat felt tight, but thankfully Jazz walked away to the volunteer table, so he didn’t have to try and form words around the emotion threatening to overwhelm him. She picked up a lanyard and a T-shirt, giving him a wave before moving away toward the gymnasium.

  When Pax could breathe again, he stepped up to the table, managing to give Becca a smile. She handed him his lanyard and a T-shirt. “Cilla’s over there,” Becca said, pointing across the parking lot. “Hope you have a good day! We’re really glad you’re here. In case no one made that clear.”

  “Thanks,” Pax said, stepping away from the table. Since Becca had pointed her out, his whole focus had been fixed on Cilla. As though the force of his gaze reached her, Cilla glanced over from her conversation. Pax lifted a hand in greeting, but she turned back to the woman she was speaking to as though she hadn’t seen him at all.

  Well, that answered any questions he had about how today would go.

  He sighed. Things couldn’t simply be easy with Cilla. Didn’t mean he would give up. She was worth fighting for, even if the person he was fighting was Cilla herself.

  He pulled on the white Wheels Up T-shirt, which hardly fit over his shoulders and chest. He pulled at the material a little, trying to stretch it.

  “Don’t think that’s going to work.”

  Pax snapped his head up at the sound of a familiar voice. “Elton?”

  “Yep. You sound surprised to see me.”

  “Just didn’t see you as the volunteering type. Doesn’t quite fit with the whole bad-boy, fight-club-mastermind rep you’ve got.”

  Elton clucked his tongue. “I resent that. You should know that people are complex. I’m like an onion. Many layers.” Pointing to Pax’s shirt, Elton spun around, showing his own too-tight Wheels Up T-shirt. “Between you and me, I think they purposely gave us shirts that are too small. Man-candy helps bring in the donations, I guess.”

  “Now, Elton. You don’t think we’d stoop to something like that, do you?” Cilla rolled over to them, and turned to give Pax a tight smile. “Good morning, Pax.”

  Just the sound of her voice sent nerves buzzing through Pax. Elton bent down and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “You forget how well I know you, darlin. I think you’d do just about anything to get the word out about this charity.” He dropped his voice to a mutter and gave her a pointed look. “Including fake a relationship.”

  Cilla glared, her eyes darting between Pax and Elton. Pax knew it wouldn’t happen, but he wanted Cilla to say that it wasn’t fake. That their feelings were real, everything was real. He thought about saying it himself but had a very strong feeling that Cilla would argue. Or worse, laugh it off like a joke.

  “Better make sure you’re not starting rumors, El. Pax has had enough bad press this week, don’t you think?” Cilla asked, her tone light, but still with a note of warning.

  Her words stung, even though he had been prepared for them. Pax studied this woman that he’d spent almost half his life in love with. Golden-brown hair, electric blue eyes, and a fire that seemed to emanate from every pore.

  Less than twenty-four hours ago, he held all that fire in his arms. For a brief moment, he’d captured that flame. Now, it seemed so impossible that he could have thought for a second that her fire could be contained.

  Before, she had put distance between them with anger but now, she seemed to be pushing him away with businesslike courtesy. A curt politeness. He hated this more. Anger at least gave him something to work with.

  Pax knew he pushed it too far asking about kids and the future. Why couldn’t he have been more patient? Why did he move so fast and throw it all out there? Why couldn’t he have approached her more like a feral cat, winning her over bit by bit?

  Elton and Cilla were still facing off when another voice reached them. “Did I hear someone say, ‘bad press’? That’s my wife’s specialty.”

  Pax and Elton turned to see Sterling James walking over, hand-in-hand with a smiling woman with long, brown hair. Though both were dressed casually in jeans and simple T-shirts, there was still something magnetic
about not only Sterling, but his wife. Or maybe that was the glow of love, which clearly stretched between them.

  “Sterling,” Pax said, reaching out for a handshake and a bro hug.

  “Good to see you, man. This is my wife, Reese.” Sterling put a hand on her lower back, his face beaming with pride.

  Reese curtsied toward Pax, a wide smile on her face. “At your service. And it sounds like you really need it. No offense.”

  “None taken.” Pax chuckled. Her friendly manner made it impossible for him to be irritated. She had an easy charm, one that clearly had worked on Sterling. He could hardly turn his eyes away from her. Based on the wide smile she aimed up at Sterling, she felt exactly the same way.

  The sting of jealousy bled through Pax. He rubbed the back of his neck, as though that could ease the feeling. It wasn’t jealousy for a person. He certainly didn’t want Reese. It was jealousy over what Sterling had. Pax wanted that. To know that his love was returned. To have Cilla acknowledge that, both to him and out where everyone could see. He wanted her to look at him the way Reese and Sterling looked at each other.

  Right now, though, Cilla’s eyes were fixed firmly on Sterling, a goofy grin on her face.

  “Want to introduce us to everyone?” Sterling asked.

  Pax drew his gaze away from Cilla. “Right.” He turned and introduced Elton and Easton, who had joined their little group. Then he gestured to Cilla.

  “Sterling, Reese, this is my, uh … this is Cilla.”

  He stepped back, noting the way Reese’s intense gaze fell on him. He got the feeling that her bright eyes missed nothing.

  “Great to meet you,” Cilla said, shaking Sterling’s hand. “Huge fan.”

  Again, jealousy pricked him. Not because he thought Cilla was interested in Sterling, but because he wished she would give him one of those grins. Her eyes flicked to Pax, who knew he was staring, and that smile faded into a polite mask.

  Reese turned her attention back to Pax. “I’d love to shadow you today, if you don’t mind. Take some pictures, just observe. Maybe towards the end of the day, we could chat more formally and come up with a strategy.”

  Pax’s gaze flicked to Cilla. “Shadow me? I don’t know.”

  Reese held both hands up in a placating gesture. “Nothing invasive. You’ll forget I’m there. Mostly. I will get some photos for Instagram and then we can release some to media outlets.”

  Sterling put a hand on each of her shoulders. “Trust her, man. She’s good.”

  Pax smiled. “If she turned your career around, I guess she must be. I’m not sure what my schedule is yet.” He looked to Cilla. “What do you have me doing today?”

  Cilla pulled a clipboard up from where she had it stashed next to her legs in the wheelchair. He doubted she needed to look at it. Probably just didn’t want to meet his eyes. “I thought today you could spend time with the kids racing this morning. Congratulate the winners. Take photos, sign whatever they want, that kind of thing. Larry sent a box of jerseys and T-shirts as well for you to give out to all the racers. I’ve got those at the center of the track. Maybe around one o’clock you could head in for time with the swimming events, then the basketball and table tennis.”

  “When is your event?” Pax asked.

  She blinked, as though surprised by the question. It shouldn’t have been a shock, considering he had asked her about it in a voicemail and by way of text. “Oh. Right. I’m racing at three, just before Sterling’s concert. You don’t need to be there.”

  When she waved her hand dismissively, Pax wanted to grab her wrist and squeeze. Not too painfully, but just hard enough to make her eyes stop grazing over him. He didn’t want her to keep dismissing him or dismissing herself.

  “I wouldn’t miss it,” he said, his voice rough. “Never.”

  Her expression faltered before she slammed those walls right back up. Then she turned to face Sterling, again smiling. “If you want to come with me, I’ll get you set up for sound checks and all that.”

  Sterling gave Reese a quick kiss on the cheek before following Cilla. She didn’t bother giving Pax so much as a look. He blew out a frustrated breath. Even her anger was preferable to this awkward professional distance. Or whatever game she was playing today. He had whiplash from the drastic changes in her mood.

  Elton gave his shoulder a squeeze. “Guess last night didn’t go so well?”

  “It did. Until it didn’t,” Pax grumbled.

  Elton gave him a tight smile. “Sorry, man. Let me know if I can help.”

  Pax wanted to say that he would have been better off if he hadn’t listened to either of the twins. It was too late for that now. And really, they weren’t wrong. Even if Cilla didn’t love him back, or didn’t let herself, he had to do this. He had to put himself out there. It wouldn’t make up for what he did back then but would hopefully show her just how committed he was.

  The million-dollar question, though, was when did you stop putting yourself out there for someone?

  “Don’t give up,” Easton said, before the twins ambled off toward whatever volunteer duties they had. Pax couldn’t form a response.

  “Everything okay?” Reese asked.

  Pax had completely forgotten she was standing there. And that she wanted to follow him around today. Great. Now she was going to have a front-row seat to the humiliation of watching Cilla, his supposed girlfriend, push him away.

  “Are you sure we should do this today?”

  Reese watched him for a moment, then seemed to decide something. Giving him a reassuring smile, she patted his arm reassuringly. “Look. I know you don’t know me. And I know what working with Lawrence is like.” She rolled her eyes. “That’s not who I am or what I do. My job is to make you look good in the most authentic way I can. Creating a public image or persona that actually feels like you. I won’t do anything to make you feel uncomfortable. I honestly think that I can help you, and I’d really like to. Trust is a lot to ask for, but I’m going to ask for your trust anyway.”

  Reese held out her hand. Pax studied it for a moment, then stared into her eyes. Nodding, he shook her hand. “You are good.”

  “I am.” She grinned, and he appreciated her confidence, which somehow came across as just that, not pride. “Be yourself today. Don’t worry about me. Now. I’ll need your Instagram password. Who handles that now?”

  “Lawrence.”

  She scrunched up her nose. “Oh.” Then her eyes brightened, and she gave him a mischievous smile. “How about you change your password, then give it to me. I’ll give Lawrence a call later and handle that whole situation. If that’s okay with you.”

  Pax’s smile was fast. “You dealing with Lawrence for me? More than okay.”

  As they walked toward the track where Cilla had indicated Pax should start the day, he only wished that he could hire Reese to fix more than his image. It was his private life that was circling the drain.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Thankfully, there was a lot for Pax to focus on other than Cilla ignoring him most of the day. Which she absolutely did. If they were passing out awards for giving the cold shoulder, she’d have a room full of trophies.

  So, Pax did his best to ignore the hurt and instead poured himself into the kids he got to meet. Lawrence would be proud of all the smiling photos. Once he got over being ticked that Pax stopped answering his calls and had locked him out of his social media accounts.

  He had always believed in the mission of Wheels Up. But it wasn’t until he watched a nine-year-old girl cross the finish line, taking first place in the 100-meter sprint, that Pax really got it. Like, having the wind knocked right out of his lungs got it.

  “What’s your name?” He crouched beside a girl with two long dark braids and a smile that revealed a missing front tooth.

  “Emma.”

  “Great to meet you, Emma. Congratulations on your race. You were phenomenal.”

  Her cheeks flushed, and her voice was hardly more than a squeak. “Thank y
ou!”

  “Smile, you two!” Reese called, positioning herself to get the best angle.

  Pax blinked back tears as he crouched beside Emma. He slung an arm over her thin shoulders. Her eyes crinkled up at the corners when she smiled, a sheen of sweat still gracing her forehead. She held her medal out with both hands.

  “Got it!” Reese said. “Congratulations, Emma.”

  “Thanks,” she said, doing a little half-spin in her chair before turning back to Pax. She practically buzzed with the adrenaline he knew from after a winning game.

  Emma turned the gap-toothed grin up to him again. “I’m a huge fan, Mr. Shaw. My dad has followed your career since you were at A&M.”

  “Is that so?” Pax glanced behind her, where her parents beamed. Clearly her dad was anxious to meet Pax as well, but they gave her the moment.

  Giggling, Emma fingered the medal around her neck. “Which means I’ve been watching you since I was in diapers.”

  Pax chuckled. “A lifelong fan, huh?”

  “Yup. Will you sign my dad’s jersey too?”

  “Of course.”

  Emma waved her parents forward and Pax shook hands and pulled a permanent marker from his pocket to sign a jersey. Leaning in close, her mother whispered, “Thank you so much. Without Wheels Up, we couldn’t afford the chair for Emma to race. She’s hoping to compete in the Paralympic Games in a few years. We owe that to you.”

  Pax dropped the marker, and Emma picked it up, handing it back to him with a broad smile. His breath hitched, and it took a moment for Pax to respond.

  “I’ve really done very little with Wheels Up. The employees and volunteers you see here today are the ones who do the real work.” It was the truth. But after this week, after today, Pax realized that he wanted to have a heavier hand in the organization.