15

Jacob

I was in a foul mood and not really wanting to talk with anyone. I’d received three more calls from him. The first two I’d left to go to voicemail, but the last one caught me off guard. I was hurrying to the locker room, running late, thinking perhaps it was Coach, and without checking the I.D. I picked up.

“It’s about goddamn time you answered.” The voice ran through me like ice. “Don’t even think about hanging up. We have a lot to discuss. Like where’s my fucking money, you piece of shit?” Old habits die hard, and the little boy in me couldn’t make the move to end the call.

“What do you want?” I asked, my brain unable to function.

“Are you deaf as well as stupid? I want my money. I want what I’m owed! And if you don’t pay up, I’m coming to get it.”

The sounds of other players, loud with chatter, bounced noisily around the locker room, finally bringing me out of my dazed state. I closed my eyes and willed myself to say the words. “You’re not getting a damn cent from me,” I said and ended the call.

I sat heavily on the wooden bench beside my locker and tried to close up the anger and frustration that had leaked out in the last few minutes. But that wasn’t all that was on my mind. I had more pressing things to worry about. It had been nearly four weeks since I had spoken with Lucia, and dammit, my dreams were filled with her. There were many times I had picked up the phone to call her or text her, even, but I chickened out each time, not really sure what to say. All I knew was that I was damn miserable without seeing her at least one time in last few weeks. I had screwed up, and I didn’t know how to fix it in the slightest. At least, though, thinking of her was distracting me from the other relentless phone calls and stupid notes I kept receiving from my admirer.

Another note had appeared on my windshield that morning, the envelope containing one naked photograph of a woman with huge knockers bending seductively for the camera. Her number was on the back. She was hot but reeked of desperation.

“Yo, Jacob, what’s kicking?”

I looked up to find Terrence next to me, his smiling face irritating me even more. Hell, he was part of the reason I was in such a mess in the first place. Him and that damn playbook of his. The only good thing was that he had paid me his grand already, or I would have planted a fist in his face. “What?”

“Whoa,” Terrence replied, holding up his hands in surrender. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” I grumbled as we made it to our lockers, thinking that I needed something more than a beer to calm my nerves. But I shook off the temptation to ask him to borrow the playbook for a moment. An easy lay would take the edge off, yet I had a feeling that still wouldn’t do the trick. No, I needed to focus on the game and the following practice, which was going to get me the top spot. “Think Coach will run our asses off today?”

Terrence shrugged as he threw his bag into his locker, clearly not worried about it. After all, that was what he was paid to do. “You can’t fool me, Jake. You’ve been moody as hell for weeks. Is this about the doctor? Aren’t you over her yet?”

I sighed, really not wanting to talk about it at all. Lucia was my business, not the team’s. But surely I had to tell someone before I exploded?

“You should let her roll off of your shoulders, man, go stick your dick in someone else. Take your mind of her,” he continued before I could answer, pulling his shirt over his head and saving me from embarrassing myself. “If you don’t get your head in the game, you could lose your spot. Either that or man up. Go get what you want and damn the consequences. It’s your life; you only get one.”

I leaned forward, elbows on my thighs and rubbed my hands over my face, feeling drained. Maybe the idiot—who I’d fondly started to consider a friend—next to me was right. I could lose my job if I didn’t get my head stuck on right. Forgetting her was the right thing to do. Move on… there was more pussy around the corner, and plenty more fishes that didn’t come with all the baggage that she had. After all, it was clear that Lucia didn’t care about what had happened between us, either. For the most part she’d been staying clear of me.

Grabbing my stuff, I walked out to the practice field by myself, needing the space to refocus. Pre-season was just around the corner, and if I wanted that starting position, I was going to have to work my ass off for it. I had something to prove, and I shouldn’t let some woman—a one-night stand, even—get in the way of me rising to the top.

Practice was brutal, the sun overly hot. If I hadn’t known better I would’ve sworn it was like two hundred degrees outside instead of the ninety-degree weather that it actually was—even the grass was beginning to scorch. Wiping my face with my shirt, I walked down the hall, feeling the burn in my shoulder from the throwing reps I had done. Ahead of me Lucia walked down the passageway toward me, her attention buried in the papers in her hands. She looked gorgeous, and I felt my heart begin to race as she drew near. What was I going to say? I wanted to say something good, anything to get her attention.

She looked up and I froze, seeing the recognition in her eyes. A myriad of emotions crossed her face, and I swallowed hard, trying to form the words on my tongue. Say something, dammit!

Instead, I watched as she averted her gaze and hurried past me before I could say anything at all. For a moment I stood there in the hall, the smell of her sweet, addictive perfume still lingering in the air. Shit. I had blown that one. How the hell was I going to fix this? Did I want to fix it?

My legs did the talking; I ran down the hall and grabbed her arm just before she reached her door. “Lucia, dammit, slow down. Jeez, you can walk fast when you want to.”

She turned, and I could see tears in her eyes, socking me in the gut unexpectedly. “Just leave me alone,” she said tightly, wrenching her arm out of my grasp and walking into her office, shutting the door behind her. I heard her engage the lock and I stood there, trying ever so desperately to understand those tears. Fuck. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt her.

But it was done… and she clearly didn’t want to see me again, and I wasn’t about to break down her door and get myself fired in the process. Fine. Whatever it was, it was over. I’d tried, hadn’t I?

I retreated and collapsed on the bench in front of my locker. I sat there for a moment, my head swimming from the practice and from the close encounter with Lucia. Maybe I should pick another girl out of the book to get her off of my mind. I reached into Terrence’s locker—it was still safely stashed near the back—and I pulled it down, holding it in my hands. This book had gotten me into some pretty deep shit, and I didn’t know if I wanted to have that happen again. And a small part of me, mainly my idiotic lower region, protested giving up Lucia so quickly. She was a wonderful woman who was misunderstood, and I hated the fact that I had to be so nonchalant about our fleeting relationship now that I knew she was the owner’s daughter. I half thought about striding down to her office again, breaking the door down this time—regardless of the consequences—and hashing out this issue between us, preferably against her desk with her long legs up in the air, until we were both spent. Now that would be a therapy session I could get behind.

Sliding my shirt over my head, I grabbed a towel and headed to the shower. A cold shower was going to be miserable but much needed, given my state.