Wide Open (15 page)

HARPER

September 30th

Charles Windt Stadium

Los Angeles, CA

I miss you.

I darken my phone, sliding it into my pocket. A quick glance around the room tells me no one is watching me. No one saw my face fall when Derrick’s text came through. No one can see my throat close up in the back, a gag reflex willing the acid bile from bubbling up. It’s anxiety. Stress. I can handle it, I just need to keep moving.

That’s not a problem today. We’re traveling with the team to Tennessee to film them facing off with the Titans. They’ve played against them once before already in the preseason. It was a game that didn’t count for anything other than practice. The rookies got their feet wet playing against someone unconcerned with concussing them. It was an eye opener for a lot of them. After the game we interviewed Josh Ramsey, the new slot receiver they picked up in the Draft, and he was visibly shaken. He’s not a big guy and even though the Titans aren’t much competition for the Kodiaks as a whole, the massive men on their defense are mountains compared Ramsey. They rattled him, that’s for sure. He caught only one pass and he was ground into the turf for it.

Travis tells me that he’ll get better as he gets his confidence up. He says most rookies start out that way; nervous as hell. Part of me wants to believe him because I’d hate to see Ramsey finally make it to the big league only to choke. But another part of me is watching the sidelines, watching Tyus Anthony pace and scowl, and I think it wouldn’t be so bad for the rookie to fail. I’m torn between the two of them, and to say I’m having trouble staying impartial on this job is an understatement of mammoth proportions.

I’m in bed with Kurtis Matthews almost every night. Some nights he brings dinner. Others we cook together, side by side in my small kitchen, his shoulder brushing mine. His lips brushing my temple. My neck. My breasts. Food burning on the stove as he lays me out on the narrow dining table and drives inside me slow and steady. Unhurried in a painfully beautiful way. He holds my face between his hands as I come. As I loose myself and my sight and the fear grips my heart no matter how hard I try to harden myself against it. He holds me and he stays with me, whispering sweet words against my skin until I can see again. Until I kiss him gratefully, mumbling my thanks.

“Dude, what are you thinking about right now?” Les demands from across the room.

I snap to attention, clearing my face. “I don’t know. I was spacing out.”

“Liar,” Travis accuses.

It hurts to hear him say it. He’s said it a lot lately, and the worst part is he’s right every time. I’ve lied to him at least once a week since July and it kills me inside. After the drama with Derrick last year I swore to Travis that I wouldn’t lie to him again, but here I am. The woman who demands truth from every source, from every friend, every enemy; here I stand, a habitual liar. I’m a hypocrite and I hate it, but I can’t let them find out. No one can know that I’ve gotten so close to a subject. I’ll be labeled a whore, but worse than that my credibility will be blown. No matter how impartial my work may be in the end, anyone who sees the documentary and knows the truth will be looking for bias. They’ll say I favored Kurtis and the Kodiaks. I can’t take that hit to my career. Not with it just starting out.

“You were blushing,” Les accuses with a sly grin. “Were you thinking about a boy?”

I laugh. “No. I wasn’t thinking about a
boy
. What am I? Fourteen?”

“So you were thinking about a man then. Was it me? Were you fantasizing about me?”

“It’s the only way I can get off. You and your pasty gamer’s skin that rarely sees the light of day. It’s so damn sexy.”

“I knew it,” he says seriously. “I could feel it. You’re always looking at my ass.”

Travis snorts. “Your ass is too bony. She was thinking about someone else. Someone with a little more meat on their bones.”

“You thinking a player?”

“Hell yeah, I think it was a player.” He eyes me critically, a grin on his lips. “But which one…”

“Domata?”

“Nah, he’s taken. She’s not the homewrecker type. That rules out Avery too.”

“Anthony?”

“Too cocky.”

“Are you guys having fun?” I ask sharply.

They ignore me.

“Lowry?” Les guesses.

Travis shrugs, unconvinced. “Maybe.”

“You know who I think it is? I think it’s Linden.”

“You think it’s Sam?”

“She loves that guy. She hugs him every time he comes into a room.”

“Because he’s friggin’ adorable!” I argue defensively. “He’s like a damn teddy bear.”

“It’s Linden,” Les insists, hefting his camera case onto the dolly with the rest of our gear.

Travis smiles. “I think you’re right.”

I shake my head. “He’s not.”

“Is it because he’s pretty or rich or both? What has you daydreaming about him?”

It’s my turn to ignore them. I start rifling through my bag to make sure I have our tickets. The bus will be leaving soon to take us and the team to the airport.

“I think it’s because he’s smart,” Alec offers from across the room. Our sound guy is so silent most times it’s easy to forget he’s there. Occupational hazard, I guess. “Harper likes the smart ones.”

Les snorts. “Impressive finding that on a football field.”

“Have you taken the Wonderlic?”

“What’s the Wonderlic?”

“It’s an IQ test for NFL players,” Travis explains. “They take it as part of the Combine getting ready for the Draft. I’ve taken it. It’s tough.”

“What’d you score?” I ask curiously.

“Forty-four out of fifty. Most guys score in the thirties and high twenties.”

“Yeah, well, no offense to Sam, but I doubt any of the guys on this team scored above a thirty-five.”

“Thirty-nine,” Kurtis corrects him.

I spin around, coming face to face with his chest. My mouth falls open, a surprised breath bursting by my lips as I lean my head back to look up at him. To move past the muscles and the man to find him, to find his eyes. They’re waiting for me; blue and bright.

I saw him just last night but the sight of him still startles me. My brain goes into overdrive, memories flashing across my eyes. His body behind mine, the soft feel of my duvet against my cheek. The cold feel of the hardwood under my feet. His hands large and calloused on my skin. Gentle. Patient.

I slept like the dead after that. After him.

“You’re here,” I state obviously, if not a little breathlessly.

He smiles faintly, only enough for me to see because I’m looking for it. I’m hoping for it. “Yeah, Coach sent me. He said to tell you guys to get it in gear. We’re moving out in ten.”

“We’re ready. We were just finishing up.”

“We got it, Harper,” Travis tells me, waving me away. “Go ahead.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, it’s all loaded. I’ll double check the list but I think we’re clear.”

“Okay, great. I’ll go find out which bus we’re loading onto.”

“Sounds good.”

Kurtis waves to the crew as he lets me pass him out into the hall. We walk in silence to the elevator. As we pass the stairwell door where we kissed months ago, passionate and ignorant. He feels like a different man to me now than he did then. He’s fuller. Funnier. Kinder.

His hand is warm on my back when as he ushers me into the open, empty elevator. He presses the button for the ground floor and we both watch as the doors slide slowly closed. It feels like they take forever, but then we’re alone and his arm is around my waist. His lips are on mine, his palm on the side of my face. My breath is in his mouth, on his tongue, and I glide mine leisurely along it, tasting it. Tasting him and me together, mingled hot and wet. Slow and unhurried. The way he kisses me is decadent. It’s not going anywhere, not rushing toward an ending. We kiss for the sake of kissing, and it makes my heart fall out of rhythm, it’s so tender. So lovely. So loving.

He pulls back far enough to rest his forehead against mine. “I’m rooming with Lowry,” he tells me quietly, almost apologetically.

“I’m rooming with Travis.”

“Shit.”

“It’s two nights. I think we’ll make it.”

“Two nights is too long to go without you.”

“I can’t stand it when you say things like that,” I groan. “It kills me.”

“I’ll stop if you want me to.”

I wrap my arms around his neck, pushing my body firmly against his. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

Kurtis’ eyes dance with a dark, smiling light. He takes hold of my hips and holds me close, his eyes on mine. We’re not moving, there’s no music, but there’s a joy in the way we stand there together that feels like dancing. Like we’re swaying in time to the silence.

“You’re sweet,” I tell him, accusing him. “I didn’t imagine you’d be sweet.”

“That’s because I’m only sweet to you.”

“How did I get to be the lucky one?”

“It’s your ass,” he says, slipping his hands down to cup it firmly. “I’m in love with your ass.”

“I’m in love with your calves.”

“I’m in love with your breasts.”

“I’m in love with your dick.”

He grins. “I’m in love with your hair.”

I smile. “I’m in love with your eyes.”

“I’m in love with your smile.”

“I’m in love with you—“

The door to the elevator opens, sending us darting away from each other. The hall is empty on the other side but we make a point not to touch as we exit it. We can’t be too careful, especially with this many people around, even though Kurtis is less concerned about secrecy than I am. I find that mind blowing considering how much he hates having people involved in his personal life, but he just doesn’t care that much. He only cares because I care, and even then there are times when he’s lax about it.

We walk the long, empty hallway together in silence, a careful foot of space kept between us. I can smell him, though. I can taste him, feel him. He’s an electrical charge on my skin that crackles like fire, tingling in my blood like champagne bubbles that leave me light and airy. Happy.

My phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out, lighting up the screen.

Derrick is calling me. Again.

I’ve told Travis about it. I can only stand lying to him about Kurtis, and barely at that. I can’t lie about Derrick as well. Not again. We agreed I should ignore any messages he sends me, deny any calls, and if he escalates the situation and gets angry or threatening, he’s fired. He’s gone. No third chances. Travis wanted to fire him the second he heard he’d texted me again, but I told him to wait. I wanted to see if he’d give up.

Two months later and his contact has lessened but it hasn’t stopped. It doesn’t look like it will. No matter what happens, I’m releasing Derrick from the team at the end of this project.

“What’s wrong?”

I glance up at Kurtis, surprised to find him watching me. A deep V has formed in the center of his brow. I smile, hoping to erase it. “Nothing. Why?”

“You’re lying.”

“People need to stop calling me out on that. It’s annoying.”

“Stop lying to people and we will.”

“I don’t lie to you.”

“You just did.”

I take a breath, slowing us and this conversation down. “It’s nothing you have to worry about.”

“Is it work?”

“Sort of.”

He steps in front of me, blocking my path. “What is it, Harper?”

I try to avoid his eyes but I can’t. They wait for me. They pull me in, two brilliant blue stars staring down at me and pulling the truth from me.

“It’s Derrick,” I admit quietly, minding the echo off the concrete walls surrounding us.

“The guy leading the Foxborough team?”

“Yeah. He’s gone from texting me to calling me.”

“What does he want?”

“Nothing much. He says we need to talk. That I can’t keep avoiding him.”

“Yes, you can.”

“That he misses me.”

Kurtis stills. “You dated this guy?”

“No,” I insist adamantly. “We never dated. We kissed and… a little more than that, but we never had sex. It was a moment of weakness and it got away from me.”

He nods faintly, looking down at me without speaking. He’s waiting. He’s asking for more, for the truth, and I don’t want to give it. It’s a part of me. A fragile part. Egg shell thin and hairline fractured. It terrifies me to let another person see it. To feel it. What if they drop it? What if they let me down the way I let myself down?

What if this is how Kurtis feels? Is this why he won’t talk about leaving California? How can I ever hope to have him open up to me if I won’t do the same with him?

I look down at his large hands hanging at his side and I remember the way they felt on me just five minutes ago; gentle. Large and rough, but slow. Caring. I take one in mine, pulling him out of the hallway and through a nearby door. It’s a storage room full of cages carrying excess gear. Tall metal mesh towers rise above me, boxing me in close to Kurtis, and as I close the door behind us the yellow light hanging overhead paints shadows over everything. His eyes are dark under his brow, but his hand is warm inside mine. Delicately protective as I hold it in my tremulous grip.