Third and Long: A Sports Romance (28 page)

My dad stands up. I’ve never seen him so red. He opens his mouth to spout more shit about controlling me and I shut him down. Something about having Tamber by me makes me stronger than I’ve ever been. If she could be standing there on the football field with me, I’d be unstoppable.

“My dreams aren’t yours dad,” I say putting my hand up.

He’s not going to let this go.

“What makes you think I’m going to give you one red cent for the way you’re embarrassing this family? My lawyers will…”

When I throw my black credit card down on the table, he stops talking. “I know dad. I know you already cut off my credit. Didn’t want me spending anything else on Tamber once you saw that ring on her finger? Don’t worry I can survive.”

“One injury Logan. One fucking injury is all it takes for you to be out millions. If you do this, don’t expect to come crawling back,” he says.

So it’s all out there then. Everything we assumed my dad would do, he did. In his old age, he’s getting lazy at this whole negotiation thing.

“You’re forgetting one thing, dad,” I say.

He looks at me skeptically, but a glimmer of understanding flashes in my mother’s eyes.

“For all your grandstanding, you’re still going to want to see your grandkids.”

When I say it, Tamber’s body shivers against my side. There’s no way she was even thinking that far ahead. I am. A quarterback always has to think three plays ahead.

My dad sits there dumbfounded while my mom stares daggers at him.

“What do you want?” my dad asks. In the negotiation, I threw a Hail Mary in the fourth, and now he’s trailing with only seconds to go.

“I’m marrying Tamber. I’m playing football. You figure the rest out. Cut me out of the family if you want, but there will always be something I can keep from you.”

Dad sips his mimosa, considering. He’s too proud to say anything right now. I’m sure he’ll want to meet with his lawyers.

It’s strange. There’s not much else to say right now. I feel this tremendous weight lifted off my shoulders. All I want to do is take Tamber out of here and make love to her. I look down at her, and she smiles.

My parents start bickering as if we weren’t even there.

“Tell Katerina it’s nothing personal,” I say, before we go.

“It was a pleasure to see you again,” Tamber says, and then she adds, “My mom says hello.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Tamber

Friday night. We haven’t heard from Logan’s parents since confronting them at their mansion. Grandkids! Logan threatened their ass with grandkids. Fuck me. I wanted to come right there on the breakfast patio. What an incredible play. I’ve spent every intervening moment between then and now with Logan. He spent most of the time at my apartment. When Gwen started to moan that he was around too much, I gently reminded her that this whole thing was her idea.

Baton Rogue. Gwen and I followed the team out to Louisiana. The biggest game of their life is tomorrow, a chance at redeeming the season after last week’s brutal loss. A chance for Logan to redeem his draft stock. Half the team goes out to a low-key bar to celebrate the coming end of the season. Logan’s not one to let the manner-minders keep him out of a bar.

The drive from Rome to Baton Rouge was crazy. One non-stop drive. Hours upon hours, and of course Gwen made me drive the whole way given her policy never to drive on a strange road. For her sake, I hope she never leaves Rome.

We followed the team bus the entire way. Gwen begged me to show Logan my tits for good luck. I told her no, and especially not since I was driving. That didn’t stop her. She must have flashed Cam two or three times. Cam and the rest of the team that is.

The assholes in the media spent the days in between our trip going on and on about how Logan is disloyal, uncontrollable, risky, and dangerous. They gathered all that from a shitty interview that Katerina Prescott gave in New York. She was on some morning show dressed in black, shedding fake ass tears.

Gwen and I watched it live. The whole time Gwen was yelling at the screen: “You lost bitch!”

I wish we’d stuck around in Rome the day after the paparazzi took that fuzzy picture of me at Marquise Steakhouse. That could have been my coming out party. I could have done an interview the next day explaining that Logan is my man. Except I didn’t love Logan at the time. At the time we were only dating, and then we were only pretending to be engaged to fool his parents. We were wasting time because what we really wanted was right in front of us the whole time.

None of that matters now. I’m sitting at a dingy bar in Baton Rogue with my man Logan, my best friend Gwen, and her boy toy Cam. I’ve got a five carat rock on my finger and the world belongs to us.

“I still can’t believe you said ‘my mom says hello.’ That is the coolest fucking move,” Gwen says, recounting our meeting with Logan’s parents.

“I was pretty proud of her. No lie,” Logan says, kissing me on the cheek.

“I’d be more proud if you guys didn’t just throw away more money than God,” Cam says.

“I’m not so sure they’ll be taking away all his money,” I say.

“Oh really why?” Gwen asks.

The waitress comes by and gives us another round of beers. Logan looks at me and laughs, and then we kiss like mad in front of everyone.

“Shit are you guys already pregnant?” Gwen asks.

“Fuck, I hope not,” I giggle.

“There will be time for that later,” Logan says, stretching out and wrapping his arm around me.

I notice Cam does the same, and Gwen specifically does not push him away.

Just then my phone rings. It’s some foreign number. I have no idea who it is. Gwen suggests I take it. She’s despises missed calls. It’s so damn loud in the dingy bar that I excuse myself and step outside.

In the cool Baton Rogue night, I click the green button on my phone and put it up to my ear. A soft pitter-patter of rain starts, so I crowd under an awning with some smokers.

“Hello?” I ask.

“Bonjour Tam!” I hear on the other line.

“Carolyn?” I ask.

“Oui oui!”

“And Jillian!” I hear Logan’s other sister shout into the speaker.

“Do you need Logan? He’s in the bar,” I say.

“No girl. We want to talk to you,” Carolyn says.

“We heard what you did,” Jillian says.

“Oh shit are you mad?” I ask. The last thing I want to do is piss off the other two most important women in Logan’s life.

“No girl! That shit was awesome! No one talks to our dad like that. You and Logan are fucking heroes!”

“You’re not going to be mad about your dad selling the company or whatever?” I ask.

“Does it look like we care about oil?” Jillian asks.

“Well I can’t see you right now so—”

“We’re smoking a bowl and watching lesbian French romances. We are the last two people in the world who care,” Carolyn says.

“Alright, but if they kick your brother out of the family—”

“Dad talks a big game, but after a couple of months, he won’t be mad anymore,” Jillian says.

That’s reassuring.

“Besides he’s one of those weirdos who respects people more when they stand up to him,” Carolyn adds.

“Gotcha. Well thanks for calling. That’s very reassuring.”

“So you really weren’t actually engaged the last time we talked?” Carolyn asks.

I give them a quick rundown of the story.

“That is the dumbest plan in the world,” Jillian says.

“Seems like it worked though didn’t it?” Carolyn asks.

“Yeah, yeah it did,” I say.

“We can’t wait to hang in person. You take care of our baby brother will you?” Jillian asks.

“You got it,” I say, and hang up the phone.

Back inside Cam and Logan down their beer and consider ordering another. When they see me walk in, they stop and wait to hear what the call was about.

“Nothing,” I say. “Don’t worry about it.” I smile at Logan. He knows exactly what the call was about.

“Another round?” Gwen asks.

“I think I’d like to call it a night,” I say.

“Ooo back to the room,” Gwen says.

I look to my man and smile. He kisses me hard.

“Get a room!” Cam says.

“I’m trying!” I say.

Logan and Cam shake hands. “Better get some sleep anyway. Win tomorrow. Celebrate tomorrow night.”

“Sounds good. Guess I better get back to my room,” Cam says.

“Oh no, honey. You aren’t going anywhere,” Gwen says grabbing him by the arm.

Logan and I look at each and start laughing. He’s in trouble.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Logan

They say Louisiana State is one of the hardest college stadiums in the country to play in as a visitor. We’re finding that to be true tonight down one score in the middle of the second quarter.

I snap the ball and hand it off to Mason Chandler, our tough-as-nails full back. He rushes right up the guts of the LSU defense, but they shove his face into the dirt. Coming up, he’s got a face mask full of turf and a set of bloody knuckles.

We regroup in the huddle. All the guys are looking worse for wear, and they are looking right at me for leadership, to turn this thing around.

And I’m struggling to give that to them because all I can think about is how my dad called my bluff and suspended all my accounts. Not only is my unlimited credit gone, but my checking account is frozen too. I’m flying blind on my football scholarship and whatever agents want to throw me under the table. It’s a scary fucking thing to be sure. Still I made the right choice.

Yet I know I’m doing the right thing because I love Tamber, and I can’t imagine a day without her let alone a lifetime. Tamber and Football.

“Hey boss, what’s the play?” Mason asks, a fist full of turf sticking in his mask. He catches me daydreaming, and Cam gives me a look telling me to get my shit together.

“It’s third down and we have eight yards to go. Not great,” I say, checking plays on my wristband.

“Let me go up and get it,” Cam says. “Throw the fucker down the field.”

“I don’t want it to get picked. Their safety has been reading me like a book all day.”

I’m still smarting from my interception that lost the game to Alabama. Cam’s disappointed in me. His eyes tell the whole story. I’m never going to win if I play cautious. Still I can’t risk it. Not now. Not with my whole future on the line. The scouts are watching me like a hawk today. They want to see that I can fail one week and win the next. My draft status can’t afford risky plays.

I call for Cam to run deep and fake them out while I dump off a short pass to our tight end. No one likes the call. They all know it’s too safe, and they’re right.

After breaking huddle, I look beyond the visitor bench. Tamber and Gwen are sitting right there, right behind the visitor bench. They’re both dressed in Lions red, cheering me on.

At the line, I read the defense. The safety drops back when they see Cam set up wide. We’ve got this. I hike the ball in shotgun and wait for Cam to break out. He does, I throw to the middle. Our tight end grabs it, and they drag him down short of the line. No first down. We have to punt. Caution doesn’t lose game, but it sure as hell doesn’t win them.

Running to the sidelines, I catch Tamber’s eye. She blows me a kiss. That’s why I’m playing cautious. I can’t have a terrible performance again. I’m playing for two now. Her future is riding on mine.

As soon as Katerina landed back in New York, the media pounced on her. She claimed that I had been “cheating on her.” More character concerns for the talking heads to drone on about. Talk about unintended consequences. Soon they’ll be saying that I’m lucky to be drafted at all. Imagine that shit!

Sitting on the bench, I watch our special teams field a decent punt, but we’re still losing, and all I can think about is protecting Tamber, doing right by her, and making sure she doesn’t regret saying yes to me.

Cam nudges me in the shoulder and tells me to get my fucking head in the game. Then he looks up to Gwen with all the confidence of a super star and yells that he wants to see her after the game.

Gwen yells something back, and all I’m thinking is damn Cam. That girl knows how you play you like a fiddle.

By the time half-time rolls around, we’re still down by a score, we still can’t get anything going. I take a minute too long coming off the field because I try to get Tamber’s attention. I could use a kiss from her right now. Some encouragement so to speak.

One of the assistant coaches yells at me to get my ass in gear, so I turn and head down the tunnel to the visiting locker room.

Half way down the tunnel I run into the strangest security entourage.

“Mr. Oliver! Mr. Oliver!” I hear a guy yell at me. I don’t need this.

“What is it? I’m kind of busy,” I say.

The security guards separate revealing who is behind them: Katerina Prescott.