Shame the Devil (Portland Devils #3) - Rosalind James Page 0,63

so much, you’ll do anything you can to win. You’ll play hurt. You’ll push yourself past anyplace you thought you could go. When you drop a pass, it’s got to burn hard enough in you that you’ll catch two hundred more the next day, trying to get better. You’ll work out in the offseason, when you ought to be on some beach somewhere, working on nothing more than your tan. My buddy Owen said the other day, ‘Nothing good comes easy,’ and that’s just about right.”

Another pause, then. Harlan frowning at the ground, then out at the crowd. He had them in the palm of his hand. Jennifer knew it. She felt it. He was talking to half the town, and it was like he was making a personal connection with every individual in it. He might be good at running and blocking and tackling, and he might be great at catching the ball—she was going to take all of that on faith, because she had no idea—but that connection? That was his real gift.

“You know what I realized today?” he said. “All of that—it’s not just about football. The important things in life are exactly the same as when I was on that high-school team. That if you don’t want it, you won’t work hard enough for it, and if you don’t work hard enough for it, you won’t get it. And it’s not even just about that, because it’s not a one-man game, and it’s not a fifty-five-man one, either. There’s the cheerleaders, coming out no matter what, giving their support. There’s the parents and the friends and the boosters, and there’s all your teammates, no matter what number’s on their back, and whether they’re starting or warming the bench, because one thing I can tell you for sure. There’s going to be a time in your life when you’re warming the bench. So—yeah. I learned all the most important lessons of my life right here in this town, and a whole lot of them in this school and in this stadium. How to win with humility, or at least pretend to, because I’m not always so good at that. How to lose with more grace than I’m feeling, and how to own my part in it. How to get knocked down and get back up ready to try harder. And maybe even how to be a decent guy, because that’s the biggest one of all. I learned that from the decent people I grew up around. I learned it from all of you. So for all of you who helped me along the way … thanks. Life’s a team sport. Thanks to everybody here who helped me learn to play it.”

He went to shove his hair back, laughed, and said, “I still keep forgetting. Got to get another embarrassing mannerism, I guess. I’m about to go hop on a plane again, now that I’m done splashing around all that emotion like a guy who’s forgotten he’s Norwegian, but before I do, I want to tell the team, and all of you guys out there who are going to be trying to get onto it, one last thing, and it comes from my heart. When you’re out there on the field in the cold next season, when you’re down on the scoreboard, digging deep for everything you’ve got, doing it for the guy next to you, and for the school, and for the town? Know this. There’ll be one proud Patriot out there cheering you on. I’ll be right there with you, because I haven’t forgotten you. Any of you. And I never will.”

19

An Impossible Choice

Harlan jumped off the stage again and shook some more hands, but he was making his way through the crowd and back to Jennifer.

He wasn’t hers, and he never would be. But the fantasy was right here.

When he got to her, he said, “Hi. Ready to get out of here?” He was smiling, but there was strain behind the smile.

“Yes.” She grabbed the beanie out of his jacket pocket and said, “Lean down.” When he did, she tugged it onto his head, then held on, stood on her tiptoes, and pressed her mouth to his.

His arms went around her, he pulled her close with one hand around the back of her head, and he was kissing her back with so much hunger, it took her breath away. Like he needed her. Her head, her body, were full of his outsized presence, the cedar-woods