Win Big:A Bad Boy Sports Romance(32)

I held on to every bit of him. The sexy, dark, smoldering football star. The cocky, unafraid badass. The smart-mouthed, arrogant jerk. And the sweet, humane guy hiding behind all of those. I wanted him in my life, long after the combine and the NFL draft weekends were over.

Dammit.

I was terrified.

How did I get to this point?

Ahhh, yes. I remembered how.

Evan was officially off the injured list, and I was waiting for Dr. Jeffries to decide what the program department would do with me now. I had a good chance of being put back into my original assignment with the baseball team, although it was unlikely I'd be the student team lead. That ship had long since sailed.

Paired with all these unknowns was my excitement for the combine to start, along with dreading it at the same time. It meant all the work Evan had put in with me as his athletic training and therapy point person was about to pay off-either that, or he was going to fall spectacularly on his face, and I was going to be the one to blame for it.

Either way, he wouldn't need my help anymore once it was all over.

Somehow, that scared me more than the idea of never seeing or talking to him again. I was flustered and anxious from the Wednesday that he flew out, all through to the event wrap-up on Sunday. I couldn't concentrate on schoolwork or focus in class. I barely ate. I kept going back to the fact that I was the one who pushed for a no strings attached deal.

I was being overly dramatic. I needed to grow up. Denying I meant something to him made it easier to push him away and accept I would be a distant memory by the time the semester ended.

He cared for me.

I could have grown to love him.

Except I should have known better than to let myself develop feelings for him. We didn't just sleep together. Nothing about what happened between us was casual. And I wasn't imagining it, either. It was one thing to own each other in bed and yet another to lay claim to each other's souls. That was even too deep for me to consider, given the family life I was subjected to, courtesy of my father, and bearing witness to Uncle Wallace's painful journey post-NFL.

The long and short of it was that fear got in the way.

My fear.





24





Evan





I was so damn nervous I thought I might hurl. Three hundred and thirty-one college players, all in one place. I glanced to my left and then to my right. Slade, Mo, Chris, Chad and I were on the field with the other players. Only college seniors were considered for the invite to each year's combine, and it worked out that we all made the invite list. Clive and Tre were sophomores, and a lot of our remaining team members were either juniors or sophomores. They couldn't play with the big boys this year. Clive and Tre came anyway, as fans. Pat had flown in with the two of them. The squad was all here. This was it. We all wanted the same thing-to impress the hell out of the scouts, agents and analysts in attendance. Every one of us was chomping at the bit for a place on a pro team, and this was another opportunity to show them what we were made of.                       
       
           



       

They put us through our paces. We were measured, clocked, scanned and inspected. They assessed our injury histories, which of course, I was nervous as hell about until the medical staff gave me the all clear. We sat through the Wonderlic test for cognitive ability, basically to determine our intelligence. The goal of that test was not about trying to ace it. People who did too well could come off as too smart for coaching staff to handle, and in the same vein, those in the bottom twenty-fifth percentile were assumed to be illiterate, simple, or not all there.

After that, we were interviewed by reps from different teams. I had interviews with the Lions, Ravens, Saints, Jaguars and Panthers. I was my usual self, and may have mentioned on a couple of the interviews that I wasn't sure I could play on a big cat team unless they were planning on making me a wild offer. They didn't quite get the humor in that.

Oh well.

We did a series of fitness tests for the rest of the weekend. From position drills and bench press strength tests to jump circuits and best times on the forty-yard dash. It was a whirlwind of activity, and by Sunday I was exhausted. On the field, I put in my all, and was performing at my best. Thanks to Sam, all my times were almost right on par with my pre-injury tests. It was like I'd never been hurt at all. Every once in a while I'd catch a glimpse of Slade as he went through his drills, and we'd exchange a nod. This was what we'd worked for our entire lives.

Because Pat had scored tickets, we had invited Sam to come along. She was adamant when she turned us down, and now that we were here, I understood why. Sam and I would have been fucking each other senseless and spending an inordinate amount of time together. My performance would have suffered for it. I wouldn't have been as laser focused on leaving it all on the field. I needed to be the old Evan here, the asshole wide receiver who left the defense in the dust.

Before I left for Indianapolis, I was already addicted to Samantha. My gut told me she felt the same, except we still continued to pretend that we were just sleeping together and nothing more. Neither of us cared to address the elephant in the room. The fact was we'd gotten closer, and in just over two months, we would say our goodbyes and move on to the next stage of our respective careers.

I was sure there'd be random girls after Sam. Chicks who didn't stand out and meant nothing to me. There were all sorts of them hanging around the players all the time. Before I started spending with Sam, I had taken enough of them home, fucked their brains out, then sent them packing with shoes in hand. There were also the types who wanted an NFL paternity suit for Christmas. We all tried to steer clear of those ladies. That was the not so romantic future that went hand in hand with life as an NFLer. That reality was lurking on my horizon.

I had sent Sam a few texts over the weekend, and her replies were all questions. How was I feeling? Any tightness or soreness? Weakness? Any swelling? How was my speed? I assured her that I was fine. We kept it all performance related, but anyone could read between the lines. She cared for me. I'd fallen for her. And we kept those details to ourselves. Why didn't I have the balls to tell her? Probably because I never expected I'd ever say such a thing to anyone.

Sam phoned me on Sunday night.

"It's good to hear your voice," I told her. It was as close as I would come to telling her that I'd missed being away from her.

"Me too." she said. "So you're all done?"

"Yeah. I'm flying out tomorrow afternoon."

"Good. Congrats on a great performance. I'm really proud of you. Pat was sending me updates on your times all weekend."

"That's cool. Thanks. So where are you?"

"Just walking from the dorm to Nick's car. We're going to grab dinner with Kristy." I heard a loud voice overlap with hers on the other end of the line, then she said, "Austin, what the hell are you doing here?"

What the fuck was Austin doing coming around when we were all still out of town? "Sam, are you okay? Is he bothering you?"

"I'll take care of this. Hold a sec." While I waited, their voices were muffled, but it sounded to me like she and Austin were arguing. A few seconds later, the tone of her voice changed, then I heard her say, "Austin don't you dare come any closer … get your hands off of me …  Austin, no!"

My stomach rolled when the phone went dead. "Sam?" I shouted into my phone. "Sam? Sam!"

I tried phoning her back. It went right to voice mail.

This was not good.

Not fucking good at all.

I tried her number again and waited.

I had come right back to the hotel, so I was sure Pat and the guys were still out drinking. Right back to voicemail. I hung up and sent a text to Pat.                       
       
           



       

‘Hey. Where are you? Didn't you leave a guy on Samantha?'

I paced around the room, wondering who to call to get her some help.

Pat replied a few minutes later.

‘Yes. My best guy is there.'

‘It didn't sound that way when I just talked to her. I think Austin just attacked her, man. Get your boy on it or I might need to call 911 or campus security.'

‘Shit. Okay calling him right now.'





25





Samantha





Everything was going great.

Until it wasn't.

I'd just finished catching up on a project assignment with Nick at the athletic center. We had planned to meet with Kristy at the dorm so all three of us could go to dinner. Nick was in the car, waiting for me to run up and change. Kristy had sent me a text to let me know she would meet us at the seafood restaurant.

I'd phoned Evan to give him my congratulations after I left the dorm room. I didn't get to finish my quick chat with him. A deranged noise got my attention the second I stepped out the front entrance. I whirled around, startled.

Austin was standing a few feet away. I tried to conceal my displeasure. We had not spoken in over a month, and he even stopped sending me texts. I thought it was over and he'd finally moved on. I had assumed my obnoxious ex was off licking his wounds. I didn't expected him to show his face again.