Love on the Highlight Reel (Connecticut Kings Book 2) (18 page)

That question hit me right in the gut. I swallowed hard for a second, thinking about how it felt for me when Trent got himself locked up. It wasn’t even that I was mad at him about the shit, but I was disappointed, and honestly scared about what that meant for the team, and for me. And now, I’d
lived
what it meant. The strain to fill the void left by a vital teammate, the profound disappointment of loss after loss, the constant worry, wondering what’s going to happen…

It was tough.

“Yes,” I said, with a slow nod. “I do feel like I’m letting them down. I allowed myself to take the situation further than it needed to go, and I shouldn’t have. I should have been better. I
will
be better. The Kings, and our fans, deserve that.”

“The Kings have a bye this week, and you’re suspended for the game after that. What are you going to do with your time off?”

“I’m not going to consider it time off. We still have practice, there are still weights to be lifted, games to review. I’m always thinking about how I can improve myself, and this time won’t be any different. November sixth, the Rams better be ready for me, cause I plan on reminding the world why they call me The Flash when I hit the field again. Watch out.”

“And on that particular note,” Chloe said, taking over, “That’s all for today’s press conference. Thank you.”

Chloe gently nudged me away from the podium and I followed her directive to leave the stage. Nicki was waiting, but Margo was already on the phone, giving me a thumbs up as I approached.

“You did great,” Nicki said carefully, in her “professional” voice. “I don’t think we’ll have any problem getting this to blow over smoothly.”

I moved closer to her – closer than I probably should, but we were away from view of anyone except security and staff. “Thank you. Do I get a little reward or something?” I asked, gently tugging a tendril of her hair.

She quickly looked around, stepping away before she gave me a look of censure. “Stop it. There are people around,” she hissed.

“People who will see me flirting with you, just like always. Relax.”

Nicki ran her tongue over her teeth as she folded her arms. “You should go get ready for practice. No time off, remember?”

“Oh I do. You and I need to talk though. Remember?”

She dropped her gaze to her feet. “Yes.”

“Good,” I said, stepping around her to walk away. I stopped beside her, dipping my head to murmur in her ear. “Don’t think for a second I’m going to let you forget.”

thirteen

I
didn’t
think for a second that Jordan would forget I’d promised to talk to him.

As a matter of fact, I knew he wouldn’t, so I did the most sensible thing I could possibly do – I ran.

It wasn’t even that I didn’t
want
to talk to Jordan – I was terrified to. I was confused about my feelings, unsure about my next steps, and worst of all, I felt… not in charge. Not in control. My personal life – my
love
life – was in disarray, and I had no idea how to deal.

So I didn’t.

I threw myself into work instead.

I kept myself busy enough that I didn’t have to lie when Jordan would reach out about us getting together. For a whole three days, I managed to duck and dodge him in the front office halls, handling any professional questions he had via email, and staying away from my office afterhours. I wasn’t naïve though. I knew that if Jordan wanted to badly enough, he would force the issue with me – something he proved by sending a handwritten note to me through a waiter, while I was at the “working lunch” I’d made up just to avoid meeting with him.

You can’t run forever. What are so you afraid of? – JJ.

Ha.

What
wasn’t
I afraid of?

There was the possibility of getting hurt and/or betrayed. The possibility of that happening for the world to see. The possibility of that happening and ruining my reputation before my career even had a chance to get started. There was so much more than just my
feelings
to consider, and Jordan didn’t seem to understand that.

So I had to make him.

I found him on the practice field, so late that he had to have bribed someone to turn on the lights. It was a little bit surreal, the way it reminded me of being in the small stadium of our college games. My memories of those times were vivid – so vivid it was hard to separate from here and now.

Which was yet another thing I was afraid of.

A call to his security guy, Kendrick, informed me that he was out running drills, and that’s exactly what he was doing when I perched myself on the cold metal bleachers at the sideline. I was bundled against the cool fall weather, but Jordan wasn’t. I had no idea how long he’d been out there, but the sprinting, quick turns, and footwork practice he’d been doing had probably made him hot.

I sat there, just watching, for long minutes. Jordan was an incredible athlete, possessing the speed, grace, strength, and beauty of a panther. I’d grown up as a football fan, but my interest had only ever been in the game itself before I met Jordan. Even though my father had come into fame and fortune through football, it was Jordan who brought me to appreciate the intellect and skill, the energy and athleticism that were required to play well. So until he noticed I was there, I just admired him.

He took a break to catch his breath, and jogged to the sideline to grab a bottle of Gatorade he’d left there. He unscrewed the top, took a long drink, and placed it down again before he looked up at me with that dimpled smile.

“Guess you got tired of ducking and dodging, huh?”

I shrugged. “That’s not what I was doing.”

“Then what do you call it?”

“Figuring things out.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And what did you figure out?”

“Not a damned thing.”

Shaking his head, Jordan walked up to me and grabbed my hand, pulling me up from my seat. “Come on. Let’s see if you can still throw.”

“Excuse me?” I asked, heart racing as he unzipped my leather jacket and peeled it down my arms.

“You heard me.”  He bent down, picking up a football from the bag tucked under the bench. “You throw, I’ll catch. Don’t throw it like a girl, either.
Throw it
,” he said, smacking me on the ass.

My lips parted in protest, but he was already ten yards away, and still moving. He stopped around twenty yards from me, then clapped his hands, signaling for me to go ahead and throw it. My eyes narrowed as that “don’t throw it like a girl” comment replayed in my head. Obviously, I couldn’t deliver the kind of throws that Trent could, but I ran backwards a few steps, planted my foot, pulled my arm back, and threw the ball with everything I had… right past Jordan.

He’d already had his hands ready, and his feet ready to run forward to catch the ball. The distance I got seemed to catch him off guard for a second, but he quickly recovered, putting on a burst of speed to dive and catch the ball before it hit the ground.

“Uh-oh Mr. Johnson,” I teased, as he jogged back to me with the ball. “You seemed a little unprepared.”

He chuckled. “Hell, I
was
unprepared for you to throw a fucking thirty yard pass.
How
?”

“Practice. And a good teacher. You must have forgotten who my daddy is. No way Eli Richardson would raise a child who couldn’t throw a football.”

“I didn’t forget, I just… didn’t think you still had it. You’re little miss corporate now, with a law degree and Prada shoes.”

“But I’m still the same girl who used to throw passes for you in that big field behind the science building,” I shot back.

Jordan grinned, moving closer so that nothing but the football was keeping us from touching. “Passes aren’t the only thing you used to throw at me in that field behind the science building.”

“
Stop
.”

He laughed, then smacked my butt again before he pushed the ball back into my hands. “Come on. Throw the ball.”

So I threw the ball.

For nearly an hour, we threw, and ran, and chased, and I was grateful that I’d worn flat boots and comfortable jeans to the field. I had the ball in my hands when I bent at the waist to catch my breath, and I screamed when Jordan ran up to me at full speed, snatching me off the ground.

“
Ahhh! Put me down!
”

He didn’t put me down, but he
did
stop running. His arms were clutched around my thighs, so I was basically sitting on his hands, with the ball wrapped tight in my arms.

“Aiight,” he said, looking me right in the face. “Now that practice is over, you ready to let me play for your heart?”

I wrinkled my nose. “Boy, you can’t be serious. This ain’t love and basketball.”

“Right. It’s love and football. So are we playing, or not?”

Instead of answering, I averted my gaze, and let out a heavy sigh. Jordan lowered me, allowing my feet to touch the ground, and I immediately stepped away, needing some distance.

“So you’re
not
ready to stop ducking and dodging, huh?” he called out, making a pang of guilt prick me in the chest.

I turned around. “Why can’t you seem to understand that it’s not like that?! It’s simple for you – you like me, I like you, let’s be a couple. But it’s not that easy for me!”

“Why the fuck
not
?!”

I shook my head as moisture sprang to my eyes. “It just isn’t,” I said, blinking back the tears. “I have
so
much to lose, Jordan. My career, my reputation, my dignity. I’m supposed to risk that, not to mention the possibility of getting hurt?”

“You think you’re the only one concerned about getting hurt? I’m rolling the damned dice too.”

I swallowed. “Right. Because I screwed you over before. Don’t worry, I won’t forget.”

“Goddamit, that’s not even why I said that—”

“But it really
is
, isn’t it?’ I asked, dropping the ball to cross my arms over my chest. “I broke your heart, and I have the nerve to consider
you
a risk to be taken. It’s fucked up, and it’s unfair. It’s not endearing. It’s not appealing. I don’t understand why I would be appealing to you, of all people, beyond maybe wanting to fuck me, and you’ve done that already. So what is this, Jordan. What do you want from me?”

“I want you to stop trying to sabotage our potential, Nicki. That’s what the fuck I want from you,” he said, stepping in front of me. “The things I loved about you haven’t changed.”

“But
I
have. And so have you. We can’t build a relationship based on feelings we had for each other in college.”

“But we also can’t pretend they don’t exist. I understand you wanting to develop mature understandings of each other, and there’s nothing wrong with that. Nothing wrong with wanting to get to know each other in the here and now. But my feelings for you, no matter when they originated, are a
fact
. And I’m not going to pretend otherwise.”

I sighed. “So what does that even mean? When I’m over here, and you’re all the way over there? What do we do?”

“We meet in the middle,” he shrugged, like it was beyond obvious. “I’m not trying to take you to the chapel tomorrow, crazy ass girl. But I’m saying… can we chill? Get to know each other again?”

“Nothing too… serious?”

He chuckled a little. “Whatever, Nicki. I guess we can start there.”

“I’d like that.”

“Of course you would,” he said, then grabbed my face between his hands. I moaned a little as he pressed his lips to mine. It felt so good that I didn’t even mind the saltiness from the sweat that had soaked his face, or the damp heat from his body as I melted against him.

“Can “nothing too serious” include sex?” I practically purred into his mouth as he moved his hands down to grip my waist.

“Nope. Dick is off-limits for you,” he teased.

My mouth dropped open. “Seriously?!”

“Hell nah. You’re about to go to my house right now, as a matter of fact.”

“Are you asking, or telling?”

He grinned, dropping his head to brush his lips against mine again. “Telling.” He smacked my ass for a third time, then moved away, heading inside. “I’m going to go shower. I expect to see your pretty ass in my bed within the next hour.”

He didn’t wait for me to respond. He jogged into the practice building, leaving me standing there on the field alone. I thought about it for a few moments, then grabbed my jacket from the bench so I could get to my car.

I couldn’t wait a whole hour.

“You’re glowing.”