by Lincoln, Liz
The kick was low, but it had enough velocity to squeak in over the bar, adding three points to the Chiefs score, making it 21–17, with the Dragons in the lead.
As the offense took the field, Carrie’s gaze went to the sideline. Seth had removed his helmet and was sitting on the bench with number 50, whose jersey read “Feu’u.” Carrie knew that was his friend and college teammate Lem. The two talked animatedly, gesturing and squirting water into their mouths.
Around her, the crowd cheered, and Seth and Lem jumped to their feet, along with the rest of their teammates on the sidelines, yelling about something happening on the field.
Carrie dragged her attention away from Seth to see number 80 sprinting down the field with the ball, toward the Dragons’ end zone. Only one Chiefs player was near him, and he was losing speed.
The crowd roared and a chant of “James” vibrated through the stadium. The team celebrated the touchdown as they headed for the bench, knocking helmets with Marcus James, clapping him on his back, and giving him high-fives.
Again Carrie’s attention was more focused on the sideline than the field, so she paid little attention to the extra-point kick and the following kickoff. When Marcus reached Lem and Seth on the bench, Lem pretended to punch him in the gut while he and Seth bumped fists. All three talked as Seth gathered his hair and twisted it up at the nape of his neck.
Marcus wandered off. Seth and Lem bumped fists, then both pulled on their helmets as they jogged back to the field.
Immediately the nerves twisted up in Carrie’s belly. She liked it better when the offense was on the field. As cool as it was to see Seth play, it was also a chance for him to get hurt.
As the Chiefs’ next drive got under way, Maddie made an annoyed sound that pulled Carrie’s focus from the field.
“What?” she asked.
“I don’t like that guy,” Maddie said. “Number 66.”
The behemoth offensive lineman who was in Seth’s face almost every play. “It is his job to keep your dad from getting to their quarterback.”
“He’s a dirty player,” Maddie insisted.
Carrie looked from Maddie to the field, where for once 66 was entangled with a different Dragons defender. The way they were grabbing at each other and dancing in a circle looked like every other play to Carrie. But she didn’t understand the intricacies of all the rules.
“It’s not just me.” Maddie’s tone grew defensive. “He gets fines all the time. So I don’t like him playing against my dad.”
Now Carrie didn’t like it either, but she ignored the pressure building in her chest at the idea of Seth facing a dirty player. Instead she smiled. “Look at you, all worried daughter.” She slung her arm around Maddie’s shoulder and pulled the girl against her side.
“Uhhhh, stop,” Maddie protested, though she leaned against Carrie for a moment before pulling away. “Come on, defense! Get a stop!”
“I like coming to games with you,” Carrie said, not willing to let Maddie escape the moment entirely. “I promise I won’t tell any of your friends that you get excited and cheer for your dad.”
Maddie gave her a deadpan teenager look, but Carrie could see humor dancing in her eyes. “I do have a reputation to uphold.”
Laughing, Carrie turned back to the game. The teams were lining up around the ball, which was placed almost directly in front of Carrie and Maddie. The scoreboard showed it was third down, with four yards to go. If the Chiefs didn’t get those four yards, they would have to punt it to the Dragons.
And Seth could go safely back to the bench. Carrie cupped her hands around her mouth. “Let’s go, defense!”
Kansas City’s center—look at her, knowing the positions—hiked the ball to the quarterback, who dropped back and held it near his shoulder as he scanned for an open guy. Seth darted in a wide arc around number 66, aiming for the quarterback. The lineman got in Seth’s way and the two danced around each other until Seth was able to spin around him and continue toward the quarterback.
Coming up on his right side, Seth dove at the quarterback just as he pulled his arm back to throw the ball. The impact of Seth connecting with the quarterback’s shoulder jarred the ball out of his hand. As Seth and the quarterback hit the ground, a half dozen other players from both teams dove for the loose football.
It all happened in the span of about five seconds, but for some reason, it felt like it played out in slow-motion detail. Carrie’s eyes never left Seth, even though the action was in the pile of men scrambling for the ball.
The quarterback extracted himself from beneath Seth’s body and stood. Without offering Seth a hand up, he backed away from the chaos and disappeared from Carrie’s sight.
Still on the ground, Seth rolled to his back, one hand tucked under his right side. His right leg kicked in and out, as if he were in pain.
Though he was only a few feet from where the referees were sorting out who had the ball, no one seemed to notice Seth still lying on the turf. Carrie wanted to hop the railing and go scream at his coaches. Couldn’t they see he was hurt? He needed help.
She couldn’t breathe. One hand went to her throat, the other covering her mouth, holding in a pathetic cry.
“My dad,” Maddie choked out. “He’s not getting up. I think he’s hurt.”
Of course he’s hurt! He has a bad hip that’s been bugging him for weeks. Stupid idiot athletes, playing hurt.
But Carrie didn’t say that out loud. She put her arm around Maddie’s shoulder and pulled the girl close. It was on the tip of her tongue to say he would be OK, but she bit it back. She didn’t know that.
Finally some of the guys from the Dragons’ staff jogged onto the field, all wearing matching maroon pants and silver windbreakers. One carried a water bottle. Because water would help fucked-up muscles and ligaments?
Most of the other players cleared the field, but Lem and two other guys hovered nearby as the medical staff—that’s who Carrie assumed the men in windbreakers were—knelt next to Seth. One offered a hand to help him sit up, and even from the far side of the field, Carrie could see him wince with the movement.
“That was a great sack he had,” Maddie murmured, pointing up at the Jumbotron. From the corner of her eye, Carrie could see the replay, but she didn’t take her eyes off the man sitting on the field, talking, each word appearing as if it were knives ripping from him.
It was possible Carrie was imagining it to be more dramatic than it really was.
Eons passed before the doctor/trainer/whoever guys stood. The two bigger ones squatted and got their shoulders under Seth’s so he could drape his arms over them. As one unit, they got to their feet.
Carrie didn’t breathe as they helped Seth to the side. He appeared to be putting a little weight on his left leg, but each step caused him to squeeze his eyes shut. Each step also had Maddie digging her nails into Carrie’s side, but Carrie didn’t say anything. Of course the girl was worried.
Finally the trainer guys eased Seth onto what looked like an extra-wide massage table, set up behind the metal benches the players sat on. It was probably Carrie’s imagination, but as the three guys started doing their thing, it seemed like Seth was looking up into the stands, his gaze scanning the crowd.
Almost like he was looking for her.
Or his daughter. Carrie mentally rolled her eyes at herself. Of course he was looking for Maddie, not her. Just because she could feel her heart pounding in not only her chest but her temples and her stomach didn’t mean Seth was thinking about her too.
* * *
—
The cold water felt good on her face, even though it was a chilly afternoon. Near the beginning of the fourth quarter, Seth had disappeared into the locker room with one of the medical guys. Which couldn’t be a good sign. If he hadn’t been hurt that badly, he’d have gotten some ibuprofen and gone back in the game
.
To give herself something to do, Carrie wet her hands and ran them through her hair to tame a few strands that had gotten frizzy. But she’d really just come to the bathroom so she could be alone and freak out for a few minutes. Because, of course, she couldn’t let Maddie know exactly how panicked she felt.
Never mind what Carrie’s level of panic said about her involvement with Seth. She wouldn’t be this frantic about a man she was casually sleeping with. She had feelings for Seth, whether she liked it or not.
Her mind flashed back to a phone conversation she’d had with Amy earlier in the week. Even though Carrie and Seth had agreed to keep things discreet, she couldn’t keep it from her best friend.
“I’m begging you, don’t fall in love with him,” Amy had said.
“I’m not in love with him.”
She’d told her friend the truth. But she definitely felt more than attraction.
So when she turned away from the mirrors and pulled out her phone as she leaned back against the sink, she could tell herself she was texting Seth for Maddie. But she had to admit, at least to herself, that Maddie was only part of the reason.
Carrie: I know you probably won’t get this for a while. But please let me know you’re OK.
Even though she knew he wasn’t allowed to use his phone during games, she waited for a full minute, watching the phone for the gray bubble that meant he was responding. It never appeared, of course. He was probably getting his hip worked on. A painkiller injection, a massage, maybe an X-ray? What did they even do for that injury?
What if it was an entirely new injury? She’d seen the scars from the ligament repair surgeries he’d had on that hip, and knew he put heat on it almost every day. But what if this was something else entirely?
She huffed out a frustrated breath. She wanted to make some kind of growl or yell too, but there were other women in the bathroom and they didn’t need to hear that.
This was why she’d always dated men with boring jobs, like fellow teachers, or IT geeks, or graphic designers. Well, that and she’d never actually met a professional athlete before Seth.
“He’s so hot. I could tangle my hands in all that hair and yank on it. And I love when bearded guys go down on me.”
Two women stepped up to the sinks next to Carrie, examining their makeup. The brown-skinned woman who’d spoken pulled a tube of lipstick out of her purse.
“Twitter said he’s out the rest of the game with a hip injury,” the tall, willowy blonde said.
Were they talking about Seth? That was good to know, at least.
“I’d be happy to help nurse him back to health.” The blonde gave a hearty laugh. “I bet he’s fantastic in bed.”
Carrie’s cheeks flamed. They weren’t just talking about Seth. They were talking about having sex with Seth.
For some reason, her heart pounded almost as hard as when he’d been lying on the field surrounded by medical staff. She shouldn’t be embarrassed. They were the ones talking about having sex with a man they didn’t know.
The man Carrie was having sex with.
“Not tonight, he’s not.” The dark-haired woman pouted at her reflection. “I love this color.”
Carrie snuck a glance at her. The maroon lipstick did look fantastic on the woman, who was gorgeous, with long hair that fell in perfect waves. She had a round butt shown off perfectly in tight jeans and a V-necked Dragons tee that showed off just the right amount of cleavage. Carrie could never achieve that look.
The blonde nodded her agreement about the lipstick, then held out her hand. Her friend handed over the tube.
“I bet he’d still be up for some good times, even hurt. And he’d make sure you got yours. More than once.”
The blonde wasn’t wrong. Even the one time Seth had needed to stop in the middle of sex because of his hip, when they returned to pleasure, he’d gotten her off twice.
Maybe she should blow their minds and tell them that.
Or she should keep her mouth shut and get back to Maddie. The poor girl had been stiff with worried tension, and Carrie had felt terrible leaving her. But besides needing a moment to freak out herself, they’d shared a giant soda in the first half and Carrie had been desperate to use the restroom.
“Yeah, you know this how?” The first woman took her lipstick back and slipped it back in her purse. “He could be one of those cocky assholes who’s only about his own pleasure.”
The blonde shrugged. “He seems like a decent guy. And decent guys make sure you enjoy it as much as they do.”
“Maybe you should hang around the player entrance after the game. Ask him if you can take him home and pamper him.” Sarcasm dripped from the dark-haired woman’s voice.
Carrie shoved her phone in her pocket and pushed off the sink. The jealousy in her chest was totally irrational. She and Seth had agreed to be exclusive as long as they were together.
But if she didn’t get out of there, Carrie would do something dumb, like tell that blonde to back the fuck off her man.
* * *
—
Seth sat at his locker and stared at the activity around him. It had a surreal I’m-on-a-shit-ton-of-painkillers quality, like he was watching it through a misshapen tunnel. He hated what pain meds did to his head.
On the other hand, he no longer wanted to claw his skin off, so that was a plus.
Somewhere in the distance, it occurred to him that he should check on Maddie. He stood, and immediately got skewered in the ass with burning hot spears.
With a groan, he sank back to his seat, his hip throbbing again, his pulse pounding so hard he could feel it in his temples; he could swear even his teeth pulsed.
“Jesus, man. What the hell are you doing?” Lem shot Seth a look like he was the dumbest guy on the planet. Which he was, trying to stand on this hip.
Fucking college injury.
On the plus side, the surge of pain had cleared some of the mental fog. He could almost think again.
“Hand me my phone. I should text Maddie. Let her know I’m OK.” Seth pointed up at the shelf in his locker.
Lem ambled over to get the phone. “They at the game, or you need a ride home?”
Seth’s knee-jerk reaction was to insist he could drive home just fine. But he immediately swallowed that response. Not only was he too fucked in the head to be behind the wheel, but the injury was to his right hip. The simple act of pushing his foot on the accelerator would be excruciating.
“Carrie brought Maddie to the game. They can take me home.” He woke up his screen to find a message from Carrie. None from his daughter, but she’d likely been next to Carrie when she sent her message. And Carrie would update Maddie.
Still, it stung.
Carrie: I know you probably won’t get this for a while. But please let me know you’re OK.
Seth: I’m fine. Aggravated my hip again. Locked up like it did the other day.
He wanted to say more, but it was entirely possible Maddie was close enough to see Carrie’s phone. He couldn’t risk it. But this was vague enough that Maddie would assume something had happened at home and Carrie had been around to witness it. Which was technically true.
A response came through almost immediately.
Carrie: Can you play?
Seth: I won’t practice until Thu. Then take it day to day.
Carrie: That sounds like the company BS line.
Seth: I’m heavily medicated. Icing my ass. I’m not practicing. Doubt I’ll play next week.
Lem dropped onto the bench next to Seth. “What’s the verdict?”
Seth leaned his elbows on his knees and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Muscle spasms. I’ll get an MRI tomorrow. Go from there. Same old, same old.”
“We’re old.”
“Yep.”
The two men stared at
the Dragons logo in the center of the room in silence.
“You think about what you’re gonna do when this is over?” Lem asked.
Not if he could help it. He felt like he couldn’t breathe when he did. When his contract in Houston ended, his agent and his manager had tried to get him to discuss life after football. But he wasn’t ready to give it up yet.
His body, on the other hand, seemed to be on Mike and Donny’s side.
“I try not to. But I guess we both need to do that soon, huh?”
Lem sighed, his massive shoulders sagging as he exhaled. “Sarah’s been on me about it lately. And she understands why I’m resistant, but she doesn’t get it. Ya know?”
Yeah, Seth knew.
His phone pinged with another message.
Carrie: Sorry. Wish I could help.
Seth: You can wait around and give me a ride home. I’m too drugged to drive.
Carrie: Sure thing. FWIW, Maddie’s worried about you. She’d die before she’d admit it, but she’s worried.
That admission warmed Seth more than he liked. He didn’t want his daughter worried about him. And he didn’t want to need an injury to get her to give a shit about him.
But hell, he was only human. He’d take what he could get.
Seth fired off another text telling Carrie where to meet him, then groped around for the fucking crutches he was going to need for at least a few days.
“You set?” Lem stood and moved back to his own locker, a few down from Seth’s.
“Yeah. Maddie and Carrie are meeting me.” Seth steadied the crutches and used them to leverage himself to his feet. Or his foot, anyway.
“I got this.” Lem reached into Seth’s locker and pulled out his bag. He slung it over his shoulder with his own. Together, they headed for the exit.
Fuck, even with the crutches, the minimal amount of weight Seth was putting on his leg hurt like a motherfucker. Fucking hell. Why couldn’t he get a morphine IV to knock him out until the damn thing was healed?