Happily Ever All-Star: A Secret Baby Romance - Sosie Frost Page 0,351

one helped me to my feet. That was fine. I walked to make sure my spine hadn’t snapped on my way to the ground.

Nothing broken except my spirit.

I stumbled to the sidelines, grasping for water.

Jack patted my shoulders. “Hell of a hit.”

I nodded. Couldn’t answer. Hadn’t breathed yet.

“You’re gonna get the shit kicked out of you when you run routes down the middle,” he said.

“Yeah.”

“Name of the game. That’s why we’re sending you out there, rookie. Show me you can handle it.”

Show him?

I was still walking, wasn’t I? Barely. I chugged my water and searched for Elle.

She wasn’t hard to find. She was the only woman wandering the sidelines with a camera.

And she did it well. Read the plays. Sensed the action. She hauled her camera and bag over her shoulder and rushed down the field closer to the thirty. The other photographers hovered twenty yards back. Either she was way out of position, or she knew something they didn’t.

I shouldn’t have doubted her. She understood the Hurricane’s offense better than I did, recognizing the new personnel on the field. She had anticipated the long bomb down the sideline.

Elle snapped her picture as the receiver caught the pass. He took two steps before getting obliterated by Cole Hawthorne. The ball popped out, and Cole landed on it like a rabid dog seizing a piece of raw meat.

My cheer was short-lived.

I expected a few minutes of peace before returning to the field.

Cole led his defense to the sidelines, and I grabbed my helmet once more.

I tried not to hesitate. Tried not to realize it.

But, Christ, was I overwhelmed—and the coaches knew it.

The next call was the same play as before, forcing me down the middle again. Jack fed me to the damn lions. He pointed at me.

“You good? Hanging in there?”

“Never better, boss.”

“Catch that mother-fucker for me this time.”

“Gotta ask me nicely,” I said.

“Catch the goddamned ball or I’ll shove it up your ass.”

“That’s the kind of pillow talk I expect from Jack Carson!”

Maybe it was easier to fake knowing what I was doing.

At least for now. At least while it felt like I ran through mud with feet made of wood.

I caught the ball, but that was instinct by now. First down and a cheer from one very excited photographer.

It wasn’t enough. The rest of my game had to improve. I had to be faster, read the plays quicker, plant my feet better, block stronger…

I could do this. My career couldn’t end this quickly. Not yet.

We won the game, but my play wasn’t pretty. At least I’d survived.

I showered and changed, avoiding most of the media as it was just the second exhibition game of four. They weren’t circling to scavenge their prey yet. It wasn’t the cameras I had to worry about.

Coach Thompson forced me into his office before I could escape from the locker room. He slammed the door behind us.

I already got beat on the field. I wasn’t looking forward his particular brand of sodomy.

“Well. You got your taste of the league, Reed,” Coach Thompson said. “You feeling good about that performance?”

What was the right answer to that? “Yeah. Sure.”

“Yeah, you looked good getting your ass knocked to the ground. Did we watch the same game?”

“I could show you the play-by-play on my bruises if you want.”

He grabbed my collar, yanking me to meet his face, eye-to-eye. He didn’t have the balls or strength to hurt me, but I couldn’t raise a goddamned hand to defend myself.

“Listen here you little cocksucker.” He sprayed me with saliva. “You have one chance left. You better prove that I didn’t waste my first-round draft choice on your sorry ass. Figure out your positioning on the field. Anticipate the blitz. Get your ass open. You hear me?”

“Yes, Coach.”

“I don’t give a damn about your pretty boy charm. Fuck the photographer all you want. Joke around with the team. But if you don’t improve in the next five-fucking-minutes, you’re gone. You understand?”

“Yeah.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Coach.”

“Get the hell out of my locker room. I better see your smiling face on the field bright and early tomorrow. You get a day off when you earn it, rookie.”

I wasn’t sticking around for any more verbal fucking without some lube. I burst from the chair and returned to my locker, heart-racing. Didn’t know if I wanted to slink home and lick my wounds or tighten my fists and brace for a fight that hadn’t come.

The guys laughed as they packed their shit. I kept quiet. The black