Eligible Receiver (Men of Fall #3)- S.R. Grey Page 0,44

call my agent to tell him I want to go home to Columbus. That way I can fix this horrible misunderstanding.

But I decide not to do that.

I’ll leave Becca alone and give her time to cool down.

The next several days progress with me feeling like I’m in a daze.

My heart aches all the time.

Still, I continue to perform to the best of my abilities at each and every practice.

I’m a professional, and as they say, the show must go on.

I also hold out hope that I’ll hear from Becca.

But every day my optimism is crushed.

Nonetheless, by the last day of practice, I’m back to believing I can save us.

I fly back to Columbus tomorrow. I’ll formulate my next move with Becca then.

That’s right, I’m not giving up.

She’s had almost two weeks to cool down.

For the moment, though, I have one final practice to get through.

I put my thoughts aside and refocus on football.

With my new attitude and a light at the end of the tunnel, I perform spectacularly. I have three amazing receptions, one of which I run in for a touchdown.

On the sideline, Mike says, “You looked really good out there. I think you have a real chance with the Sharks.”

I laugh. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

For a moment, it dawns on me that I could come here unattached. Sure, I’d need to sell my house back in Columbus. But if things don’t work out with Becca, meaning I can’t win her back, I have to ask myself what’s really keeping me in Columbus?

Wait, I don’t want that.

I want Becca.

Mike asks, “Do you want to play here? Are you hoping the trade goes through?”

Shit, I have no clue.

Shrugging, I try to blow it off.

But he looks at me pointedly.

I ignore that too.

Once we’re in the locker room, taking off our equipment, the subject of Becca is brought up again.

Mike, seated next to me, yanks his pads over his head. Running his hand through his sweaty dark hair, he says, “I’m guessing you still haven’t heard from your girl?”

I shake my head. “No, not a thing.”

Looking thoughtful, he says, “You know, sometimes women need to work these things out on their own schedule. Unfortunately, it doesn’t always match up with ours.”

I snort, “That’s for sure. And trust me, I’ve been telling myself that same thing ever since this happened.”

“You giving her time still?”

“I am.”

Mike finishes undressing and wraps a towel around his waist.

Standing, he pats my shoulder. “Hey, don’t give her too much time, though. It could go the other way. She could reach a point where she thinks you don’t care. It’s a difficult balance, my friend.”

“Jeez, you’re just full of sunny optimism,” I quip sarcastically.

He shrugs. “I just try to see it from all sides.”

“I know.” I sigh. “I’ve been thinking the same thing.”

“Don’t think too long, though,” he warns. “I think I’d get on it as soon as you get back.”

He is so right.

But I don’t have time to tell Mike I already made that decision.

As he heads off to the showers, I remain seated on the locker room bench.

Yeah, no way am I giving up on Becca.

I caught her once.

I can catch her again.

I think about how my girl is a runner.

I know that.

She ran from me at the theatre.

And she ran from “us” in the beginning.

She’s just running from me again now.

Good thing making great catches is what I do.

And no doubt about it, winning Becca back would be my greatest reception of all time.

What a Jerk!

Over the next couple of weeks, I keep my butt busy with work. Lars is far from my mind.

Ha!

Who am I kidding?

The stupid ass is all I think about.

And let me assure you, he is an ass.

So much for making all my dreams come true.

Liar!

Apart from a flurry of voice mails and texts the day after the incident, I don’t hear another word from him.

“What a jerk!” I look over at Jodi, poised for her reaction.

I’ve just shared with her all the anger and fury I’ve been feeling.

But she’s just sitting there, not saying a thing.

Huh?

When she continues to not respond, I prompt, “Am I right?”

She shrugs. “Yeah, Becca, I guess you are.”

Balling up a piece of paper and lobbing it over at her, I snap, “What do you mean ‘you guess’? Whose side are you on, anyway? We should be bashing Lars together.”

Intercepting the paper ball easily, she replies, “I don’t know about that. I’m on your side, of course. But let’s review.”

“Okay.”

“Didn’t you tell Lars you’re done