Hail Mary Baby: A Secret Baby Sports Romance (2 page)

BOOK: Hail Mary Baby: A Secret Baby Sports Romance
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Laura

I
came from nothing
. And I mean nothing. Rural Iowa, a farming town to be exact. That's right, my father was a farmer and all my mother did was help out on the ranch while raising their 8 children. Even though I would be the first to defend it, it wasn't much of a life. So I got out as quick as I could.

I went to college. A good one. And before I knew it, I was out with my degree and a shitload of debt. The debt I didn't mind so much. You see, you can always pay off debt. But you can't pay off the unknown. If I hadn't left my home, I would have been like the rest of my family. I'm sorry to say this, but I'd be hopeless. No dream career, no nothing. I just wasn't going to live my life as a spinster milkmaid. Hell no.

There it was. My life, all laid out like a map on a table. It was all much easier than I expected. "When will you get yourself a strong man?" My mom would always ask me. But who needed a man when you had your own will and determination?

Cut to a year and a half later, and I had been working for a local news network on Channel 5. It was a big deal to some, but I was still hoping for my big break. Of course, that's when I received the call.

"Laura. How ya doing honey? Good, good. How would you like to do the Super Bowl coverage? I think you'd be great for the job." The network executive paused for me to answer.

My heart fluttered and my stomach turned inward. This was the chance of a lifetime. If I could just make this one good, it could skyrocket my career. I answered as calmly as I could, saying, "Oh my God, yes!" It was done, then and there.  My career path was set in stone!

Months had passed and I worked out a series of questions I thought I might ask the winning team. Of course, deep down I was hoping Liam Conway would be the one I got to be face to face with, but any player would do.

Liam was dreamy, alpha, and completely one with himself. At least, he was when he was on the field. When he was off, it was a different story. He was in and out of relationships, getting too many DUI's, and he was constantly getting into fights with the media. So even though he was a perfect person to interview, I was slightly nervous about even getting close to him.

The day of the big game, I was a wreck. I had gone over my questions, over and over in my head. I felt ready enough. But this was my first real eye on the scene. It needed to be great. A shot of vodka or three later and I was on my couch, fairly drunk and wishing I had chosen a different career path. Maybe being a milkmaid wasn't such a bad idea after all?

I did the only thing I could do. I called my friend Katherine. She answered, "What's wrong? Why are you calling me? Aren't you supposed to be on the field in 20 minutes?"

"I'm not going." I sternly answered into the phone. It was a cry for help.

She sighed into the receiver. "Girl, you are most definitely going! I don't want to hear it. Now, what's up? You going to tell me what's wrong?"

"Listen to me!" I yelled, slurring my words. "Everything is wrong. I'm not meant for this kind of a job. I'm just some hick lady from a deadbeat farming town. I'm nothing compared to the other reporters."

"Oh, Laura. When will you realize everyone loves you? I envy you. Do you know that? No one compliments me like they do with you. They barely even look at me. But you, they love you. So here's what's going to happen. I'm going to pick you up right now, bring you coffee, and take you to the press area. You'll sober up soon enough, so you don't need to worry about that."

I interrupted her, "Katherine, I --"

But she wasn't having it. "I don't want to hear it, girl! You're going. And the whole time you're going to ask me questions to prepare for your day. In ten years you'll thank me and give me a million bucks, but for now, I need you to do this." She was honestly the best friend a girl could have asked for. I reluctantly agreed, pulling my hair back into a ponytail, and set the phone down.

She got to my place within minutes. With a couple sips of coffee, and a short pep talk, I was ready to go. She blasted her Top 40 radio and sped toward the stadium. We got there within 10 minutes. Thanks to my lucky press badge, the traffic cops waved us ahead of all the other cops. We pulled into the parking lot and I quickly jumped out. "Kill them dead!" Katherine yelled. I whispered an earnest "Thank you!" And ran to the press area.

My boss looked at me, rolling his eyes. "God, I thought you had flaked on me. Come on, I gotta get you onto the field right now!"

I muttered a sad "Sorry, Jake. So much traffic out there today." I walked out to the field and began my first big live broadcast.

"I'm Laura Alvaroy with Channel 5 News. Welcome to Super Bowl..." You get the picture.

The whole day was thrilling! I interviewed coaches, celebrities, fans, and of course tons of famous NFL players. And I was killing it too! So when I witnessed the earth-shattering end play by Liam Conway, I ran toward the locker room entrance, in an awkward attempt to cut him off.

But within twenty minutes or so, I saw him. There he was, running my way. I yelled, “Liam! Liam! How does it feel to win!" Or something along those lines. The words just came out. And when he turned to look at me, I knew he wouldn't give me a real response.

"Peachy. I'm going to fucking Disneyland." He gave me a cocky smile and had the audacity to keep standing there. He knew how angry I was. But more than that, I was heartbroken. This was my chance to get some words from one of the most famous quarterbacks of all time. Instead, he gave me a half-assed response with a curse word we couldn't even air on television.

He gave me a card and told me to go to some after party. Of course I told him no. But when he told me there would be an interview involved if I went, I felt obligated to. However, I found myself saying "no" once again. It was a useless display of pride.

Then he touched my face, running his finger down my cheek. I trembled with excitement. He smelled of leather, sweat, and cologne. A weird combination, yet it almost pushed me over the edge. Still, he was an asshole, right? He turned around and walked into the locker room, leaving me on my toes. So much for my big break.

Liam

"
S
top checking
out my dick and get dressed, boys! It's time to celebrate!" My words were met with sharp applauds and laughs.

"Ain't nobody checking out that thing." Jenkins replied, laughing himself.

"Alright, alright. Out of my way." I said, waving everyone away. I hopped off the bench and got changed as fast as I could. Tonight was the night to celebrate my win. Yes, my win. I'll give Jenkins some credit too, I guess.

"You ready?" I turned to him, shaking out the water from my hair.

"Ready as ever. You coming with to get the party favors, bro?" He asked me, showing me his sly smile.

"You know me, I'm always down for a ride." I said.

But as soon as I made my way out of the locker room, I was surrounded by the press. Cameras were flashing, microphones were shoved in my face, and at least ten reporters were screaming questions into my ears. You know, just a typical day in the life of Liam Conway. Jenkins was pulled the opposite direction. We quickly lost each other in the scuffle.

I looked up, trying to see if the lady from Channel 5 was there, but apparently I had scared her off earlier. Shit, I thought. No worries. "Listen, I'm on my way somewhere. No questions today. Thanks!" I gave my best smile, looking "attractive" or at least trying to. Still, the crowd swarmed even more around me, practically pushing me against the wall.

A voice interjected, "Guys! Get back and give the star player some room!" It was my manager Jonathan Walker. "Thank you, everyone. Liam will be answering all your questions tomorrow at the press conference. If you have something to ask him, you can do it there. Goodnight!"

"Thanks, brother." I whispered as we snuck out of the building.

"Hey, I got some things to talk to you about." He said.

We kept walking, inching our way to the parking lot. I sighed, "You too? Seems like everyone's got something to say to me these days."

He laughed, "Yeah well, you and Jenkins are the biggest thing since cocaine. I'd hardly call that a bad thing."

"Yeah, well. I didn't get into this thing for the interviews. I got in for three things: the love of the game, the pussy, and the free drugs." I pushed the door open and walked into the breezy air.

Jonathan couldn't help but shake his head. "I feel you. But you just won the biggest football game there is. It's time you start thinking about your future."

"What, like where I want to end up next?" The question was important, I agreed. But it wasn't something I really wanted to think about next. Work, work, work. That's all the suits seemed to care about.

"Yeah, something like that. Anyway, give me a call this week. We'll meet up and have that talk." He shook my hand goodbye. I gave him a hug instead.

"See you, Jonathan." I put on my sunglasses and got into my Porsche, one of many rides I had the pleasure of owning.

I felt alive, you know? Or at least I should have. Instead, I couldn't get my mind off of one thing. The reporter from earlier. I was visualizing her legs poking out from her dress. Those stockings... She was classy. I knew I was an asshole, but that didn't mean I couldn't get her. I just hoped she would be at the party.

I disregarded my feelings and turned on my Bluetooth, dialing up Jenkins. "Where'd you go?" I asked him.

"Shit, man. That was chaotic back there. I got out though and am headed to the party with the party favors. See you there?" But just as I was about to answer, an incoming call came in.

"Damn! I gotta take this, brother. I'll see you at the party." I looked at my phone and shook my head. Cindy. My bitch of an ex-girlfriend.

"What do you want?" I answered.

"I saw you on TV." She said.

"Big deal." I responded. What was she getting at? I really didn't have time for her bullshit today.

"Well, you're being rude as hell. Why didn't you invite me to the game? You know how much I love watching you roll around on that field." She made a sound into the receiver, as if she was deriving all the pleasure in the world by talking to me again.

"I didn't invite you to the game because you're psychotic and threatened to sue me for all I'm worth. Remember? That's why we broke up, Cindy."

"Oh that? You know I was just messing with you, Liam. Besides, don't you miss me at all? Don't you miss my perfect ass? My big tits?"

I sighed. She knew my weakness. A good ass and a nice pair of tits. Still, her personality was God awful. It wasn't that hard to say no to her. "Look, I told you to leave me alone once. Why don't you ever listen?"

She giggled. "Why don't you make me listen? I saw how strong you were out on the field. How powerful you are. I've been a very bad girl, Liam."

"Cindy..." I moaned, getting tired of debating the subject every day of my adult life. "Look, I don't have a date for the party tonight. If I let you go with me this one time, will you leave me alone?" I was practically begging at this point.

There was a long pause before she answered. "Okay. Fine." She scoffed. And then changing her tone, she screamed, "I can't wait!"

I hung up the phone, annoyed as ever. If only that reporter had agreed to come, I wouldn't be in this mess.

Laura

"
S
o are
you going to go or what?" Katherine was leaning toward me at the restaraunt. She just had to know.

"I don't know." I said, truthfully. "I mean, he's kind of an asshole."

She looked at me like I was crazy. "He's the quarterback of the Dallas Cowboys. He just won the Super Bowl. What do you care if he's an asshole or not?"

I looked at my drink and swirled the straw against the ice. "I don't know..." I sighed.

"Girl, you just got out of a heavy relationship with that trash of a boyfriend. Seven years with someone is a long time. I think you need a rebound and I think you've found your man." She said.

"Katherine! Ugh, he is really hot. But he totally ruined my shot!" I yelled, yet I was smiling thinking about him.

"You're just mad because you know he's right. Those camera shots after the games are so boring." I simply stared at her. "What?" She asked.

"Alright, alright. I'm going to pretend you didn't just diss my job, and go to this party." I admitted.

"You are?" She asked, lifting one eyebrow.

"Yeah, I mean, what do I really have to lose? Worst case scenario is I get to go to a party with Liam fucking Conway!"

She giggled with excitement. "What's the best case scenario?" She asked me. I just grinned and sucked down the last of my mojito. "Oh you're bad, Laura."

"Baddest bitch in town." I winked. I looked at my phone and the time read 9:00 PM. "Shit! I have to get ready!" I yelled, jumping out my seat. "Here's 40 bucks, keep the change." I said, heart racing. I'm not sure why I was nervous. I just really wanted some time to look my best.

"Don't worry too much. He likes you. Tonight will be great." She got up and kissed my cheek, giving me a strong hug.

"I just wish you could come." I found myself saying.

"Hell no you don't. I'd get sloppy drunk and you'd regret it in an instant. Have fun tonight." She said. I hurriedly walked out of the restaurant, feeling slightly tipsy and ready for the night ahead of me. Luckily I was only a few blocks away.

When I got home, I ran upstairs to start a bath. If only my wardrobe specialist and makeup team were here to help me get ready for tonight. I ran myself a hot bath and stepped in, feeling the heat radiate up my naked body. I shivered with pleasure. There's nothing like taking a hot bath.

My whole body inched down into the water. I took a deep breath in, exhaled, and closed my eyes. I usually forgot how much stress I carried inside me. But now, I could feel it pushing past my self.

"Katherine's right." I told myself aloud. "The past year was difficult. Brad left me. He told me I was worthless. It's about time I find someone who can make me feel special, if only for a night."

I shaved my legs, making sure my body felt smooth and perfect. Maybe I was getting ahead of myself a bit. Maybe I'd show up and he wouldn't even say anything to me. Maybe he'd ignore me the whole time. Ugh, why did I even care? I decided then and there that if he was worth my time, he would fight to be near me. That's the only way I'd know I was something special.

I drained the bath, dried myself off, and went to pick out an outfit. Of course when I got to my closet, I stopped dead in my tracks. "Okay, think sexy. What would the quarterback of the Dallas Cowboys want in a woman?" I whispered to myself, biting my lower lip.

At first, I grabbed the sluttiest dress I could find. It was low cut, heavily revealing, black, and tight around my hips. Sure, it would have worked on most guys. But I knew that Liam was different. I had been watching him storm out of press conferences far too long to think he was like the rest of the guys in the locker room. He was a wild stallion, a stallion who, deep down, wanted to be tamed. I knew it.

So what did he look for in a woman? Well, I had heard about his ex-girlfriend, an ex-stripper turned well-known magazine photographer named Cindy. That whole affair ended in a flaming ball of shit. There was no way in hell he wanted another girl like her. I knew it. If anything, he wanted a normal woman, whatever that even meant. Still, I was ready to play that person if it meant having a good night with someone for once. At least, tonight I was.

After a few minutes, I found the perfect outfit. It was simple, yet sexy. A short button up shirt that cut off near the stomach, and a pair of tight jeans. Tonight I would be the perfect southern gal all Texans fantasized about.

But first, I slipped into some of my favorite lingerie. My ex, Brad, bought them for me, but now it was time to show it off to someone new. They were black and lacey, and I just knew it would be impossible for any guy to resist.

30 minutes on my hair and makeup and I was ready to go. I grabbed the card that Liam gave me at the game. It had his phone number and the address of the party. Was I really going to go? Even after dealing with his rude behavior. I took a deep breath. Why not? He wanted me to go, right?

I took a step outside into the night and unlocked my BMW. "If he does anything to wrong me," I said aloud, "he's done. No questions asked." That was my promise to myself.

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