Go Hard: A Bad Boy Sports Romance(10)

That surprised me. “Really?”

“Really. On a trial basis for now. No pay raise, not yet. Not until the end of the season when we make you permanent. But this means you’ll have full access to the facilities, day and night. You can schedule him for extra sessions or whatever he needs.”

“Wow. That’s amazing. Thank you so much for trusting me.”

“Of course. The training wheels are off, Taylor.” He smiled. “With that comes more responsibility, though. His health reflects on you.”

“I understand.”

“Good. You’ll get all the info you need in your email.” He smiled again. “Good luck.”

“Thanks, Jeff.” I stood up and quickly left his office before he changed his mind.

I could hardly believe this. I was a full staff member, although they weren’t raising my pay. That annoyed me, but the opportunity was too important to pass up. I knew they were hard up on cash at the moment anyway, so pushing back wasn’t going to help.

But now this was serious if it hadn’t been before. They were watching and evaluating me. Any wrong moves and I was done.

Owen wasn’t going to make this easy. I knew he wasn’t going to. But I had to just stick to my regimen, remain professional, and not let myself get sucked into his orbit the way I wanted to.

As I headed off to see Owen, I could feel the full gravity of the situation settle into my stomach.





10





Owen





I could still hear the roar of the crowd in my ears and feel the soft leather ball on my fingertips. I looked down at my knee and felt a jolt of pain as I flexed it outward.

“Good fuckin’ game, man.”

I looked up from the bench. Raylon grinned at me.

“Thanks,” I said.

“Good shit. When you hit that gap in the third quarter? You fucking steamrolled their linebacker.”

I grinned back. “Hit him like a fucking truck.”

“Hell yeah. Knocked that asshole out.”

We shook hands and he walked off.

The second game of the season had gone really, really well for me. We’d won, though just barely. I scored the winning touchdown in the fourth quarter by bursting through the line and breaking out a big run for the score.

It was right after that play that I noticed my knee. Sharp pain and swelling had begun tearing me up, but I’d kept that to myself. I’d noticed Taylor watching me, but I didn’t let myself look back at her. I didn’t want her to see the pain I was hiding, because I knew she would.

I didn’t want to get taken out of that game. I was playing too well. It was too early in my season to be pulled because of an injury, and I couldn’t give up the opportunity to prove myself.

The next time I was on the field, though, I could tell that I was moving slower. I was hitting a little softer, and I was a little more tentative when I burst into open field. I was a step slower, but I wasn’t sure if anyone else noticed.

We still won. It didn’t matter. And as I sat there on the bench after Raylon walked off to congratulate the other guys, I flexed my leg again, wincing at the pain.

The locker room after a big win was always a shit show of reporters and excited people. I wasn’t all into the show. I just wanted to shower off and relive those moments on the field when I really felt alive, when I felt like nothing could bring me down, nothing could stop me. I was perfect on the football field.

Even though my body was betraying me.

I got up and walked to the showers, keeping the pain off my face. I rinsed off, taking my sweet time. I waited for the sound of excited people to slowly fade away before I finally came out, wrapped in a towel.

Taylor was waiting for me near my locker.

“Owen,” she said.

“Taylor. Are you supposed to be in here?”

She shrugged. “Nobody cares. Got something you want to tell me?”

“Nope,” I said. “But I do have something I want to show you.”

I went to take off my towel. She just sighed and shook her head.

“I’m serious. You’re really going to pretend like nothing happened?”

I shook my head. “Not sure what you mean.”

“I saw your knee bend on that score. You planted weird just as you hit the open field, right after you ran over that big linebacker. I saw your face, and I saw how you were after. It hurt, Owen.”

I shook my head and couldn’t help but grin. The damn girl was fucking observant. Nobody else had seen that, or at least nobody else had said anything about it. Of course it was only Taylor who would come right out and call me on it.

That was something I liked about her. She was no-bullshit, up-front and straightforward. Sure, she played like she didn’t want me, but that was different. She was trying to protect both of us.

“All right,” I said. “It hurts.”

“Let me see.”

I sat down on the bench and showed her. She took my leg, bending it slightly. “Does that hurt?”

“Yeah,” I grunted.

“Shit.”

“What?”

She shook her head, bending my leg some more. I clenched my jaw, trying to keep the pain from my face.

“This might be bad, Owen.”

“It’s fine.”

“Owen, I’m serious.”

“I know you are.”

“You should have stepped out.”

“I couldn’t leave that game. You know that.”

“You scored. You could have taken a rest.”

“I needed to prove myself. The whole fucking country is watching me right now, talking about whether I’m overrated or not. I want to prove that I’m not.”

She bit her lip, shaking her head. “I know you’re not.”

“This damn fucking knee might mean I am.”

“I get how you’re feeling, but I’m your trainer. You have to trust me.”

“What’s done is done. What now?”

“Now you rest it. I need to tell Coach.”

“No,” I said forcefully. “You can’t tell him.”

“Owen.”

“Listen to me. I’ll do whatever you ask. I’ll stay off it when I’m not practicing. I’ll ice it and work it every day. But you can’t tell Coach.”

“This is my job, you know.”

“I know. You keep reminding me.”

She sighed, shaking her head. “It’s not like that.”

“I get it.”

“Your well-being is my job. You get that, right? I’m making these decisions for you.”

“If you want to make a decision that’s best for me, then don’t tell coach.”

I could tell she was torn. On the one hand, she had a damn good point. If I was injured, Coach needed to know so that he could start making backup plans.

But if she told him, he might make an early call and bench me. That could be disastrous. If the next guy in line stepped up and played well, I might not see the field at all for the rest of the season. It could fucking destroy me. I’d seen it happen plenty of times. The game was built on luck as much as skill, and getting injured so soon was bad luck.

But I’d also seen plenty of guys push through an injury like mine. There was no reason for me to back down if I didn’t think I was really messed up.

“I don’t know, Owen. If you’re really hurt, this could genuinely end your career.”

“Yeah, maybe, but so could benching myself.”

“I’m worried.” She sat down on the bench next to me.

“I know, but I understand the risk.”

“What happens if I don’t tell Coach but you’re really hurt?”

“I’ll cover for you. I’ll say that you didn’t know.”

“They won’t buy it.”

“I’ll try anyway.”

She leaned back, tipping her head toward the ceiling. I watched the line of her throat and her hair spilling down along her shoulders. She groaned.

“I want to help you, but I also don’t want to fuck both of us.”

“I’d rather just fuck you.”

She tipped her head toward me, making a face. “Cut it out.”

I crossed my arms. “No joke. I’m wearing only a towel right now, you know.”

She arched an eyebrow. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“We’re in an empty locker room.”

“That someone can walk into at any second.”

“Good point. Let’s go somewhere more private.”

She couldn’t help but smile. “You’re not helping.”

“I don’t want to help. I just want to make it hard.”

“You’re not talking about my choice, are you?”

“Nope.”

She sat up. “Listen. I’m going to trust you. If you think you’re good, then you’re good. But you have to stay off it.”

“Okay,” I said. “I can do that.”

“I’m serious. As soon as you’re home, get on the couch and don’t move. Ice it, twenty on and twenty off, for an hour. Take a break for an hour, and then do it again. Got it?”

“Got it.” I smiled at her. “You’re fucking sexy when you make commands.”

“And you’re a frustrating ass.”

“A talented, attractive frustrating ass, you mean.”

“No. I just mean an ass.”

We were both smiling, and I knew things were okay. She spoke like she was pissed, but that little grin on her face said otherwise. It felt good that she trusted me with this decision, better than I’d thought it would.