As the game progressed, I realized that Owen Rack lived to play football. He smashed through the line again and again, gaining yards on almost every single play. He was a monster on the turf, breaking tackles and bruising skulls.
I couldn’t help but remember the man from the club that night, his hard cock against my body as we danced. I’d be lying if I said that I hadn’t thought about him beating up that guy for me again and again as we worked together.
The Eagles were winning in the second half by two touchdowns. In the fourth quarter, with only four minutes left on the clock, they called a running play straight up the gut, just like Owen liked it.
He burst through the line, but one of the defensive players fell sideways. The brute rolled into Owen’s legs, throwing him to the ground.
There was a short scrum as the whistle blew. The refs worked to clear the pile, and when everyone was up, Owen remained on the ground, clutching his knee.
I’d never run so fast in my life. I was out on that field in a heartbeat, heading right for Owen, worry surging through my gut.
I knelt down next to him as the other trainers arrived.
“What hurts?” I asked him.
“Left knee,” he grunted. “I’m okay, though.”
“Don’t move.” I looked at Lee, the head trainer, and he nodded as he went through his checklist with Owen.
I stayed right by his side, worry surging through me. I didn’t think about my own career, but about his. The guy was so young, and it was his first game in the pros. If he was seriously injured, this could end his entire career.
But after a minute, he was back on his feet. He took his helmet off and grinned at me. “Scared you?”
“A little,” I said.
“Takes more than that to keep me down.”
“Don’t get hurt, Owen. You can’t afford it.”
“Neither can you.” He grinned at me. “Meet me in the locker room after the game.”
“For what?”
“Stretch this knee out.”
“Got it.”
The other trainers were heading off the field, so I hustled to catch up with them.
The rest of the game went smoothly. Owen’s touches on the ball were kept in check just to give him a chance to heal while the rest of the offense took care of the game. They scored on another passing play and ended up winning by three touchdowns.
Afterward, the team had to cool down and then do their press conferences. I hung around outside the locker room, just another person waiting in the wings, while the guys did their thing. People were milling around all over, and the mood was pretty positive.
Slowly, the place started to clear out. After maybe a half hour of waiting around, I still hadn’t seen Owen. I poked my head into the room.
“Owen?” I called.
“In here.”
I stepped inside. “Where are you?”
“Toward the back.”
I walked down the rows and stopped short at the second to last. Sitting on the bench was Owen, wrapped in a towel and nothing else. He looked up at me and grinned. “Hey, princess.”
“You could have put some clothes on.”
“And deny you this beautiful sight?”
“Meet me in the training room.”
“No. Just wait.” He stood up. “I’ll get dressed and we’ll go through it here.”
“What? Why? Just meet me down there.” I turned to leave.
“Taylor.” I stopped. “My knee fucking hurts, okay? I don’t want to walk down there.”
I frowned at him. “You told Lee you were fine.”
“I lied.”
I sighed. “Okay. Get dressed.”
I moved away and leaned up against a locker.
“I couldn’t tell the truth,” Owen said. “You know that would have been bad.”
“I know.”
“What can you do for me?”
“It depends. I don’t know how bad the injury is.”
“Damn fat bastard. He fell right on me.”
“I saw. Looked pretty awful.”
“You know those guys weight like three hundred?” He emerged from the row wearing shorts and a tight T-shirt. “It’s like having an elephant drop on your leg.”
“Come on. Let’s get you sorted.”
We headed toward the center of the locker room where there was more space and carpet. He got down on his back and I started his stretching routine, though I could tell it was hurting him.
I prodded at the knee gingerly. “Does it hurt?”
“Yes,” he grunted.
“How bad?”
“Not so bad that I can’t walk, but I feel it.”
I nodded. “That’s probably good. Means nothing is torn or broken.”
“Feels fucking torn.”
“Bad pain isn’t always a bad thing. Just means you need to rest it.”
“I can’t take time off.”
I sighed. “Owen, if you push it, you’ll make it worse.”
“I’m a rookie, Taylor. I can’t hold back.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Keep this between us.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Please. We’ll work on it extra.”
I frowned at him. “I’m not sure that’ll help.”
“Let’s try it. If it gets worse, we’ll tell the other trainers.”
I bit my lip and looked away. I got a flash of him fighting that guy for me. “Okay. Fine,” I said. “One week. If it’s not better by Friday, we’re telling them.”
“Deal.” He held out his hand.
I took it to shake and he pulled me down toward him. I lost my balance and fell on top of him, my face inches away from his.
For a second, I thought he was going to kiss me. I wanted him to, wanted his lips against mine. I knew it was stupid, but there I was, on top of the guy in the middle of the locker room, our bodies inches apart.
“Owen?”
We both looked up. Noah Slater, the quarterback for the team, was standing in the doorway.
“What up, Noah?” Owen asked. I straightened up, moving away from him.
“I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” Noah asked.
“No,” I said quickly. “We were just getting in some post-game work.”
“Right. Well, the guys are heading out. Coach wants you to do media and then head home.”
“Fine,” Owen said.
Noah nodded and then left.
I stood up. “I should go.”
“We were just getting started.”
“Stay off that knee. Ice it when you get home, and don’t put any pressure on it until you absolutely have to. Okay?”
“Whatever you say, doctor.”
“I’m not a doctor.”
He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I’d let you give me physicals all night long.”
I sighed. “Take it easy, Owen.”
“Hard to with you around.”
I turned and walked out, waving as I left.
I had almost kissed him. Noah had seen us in a pretty bad position, but that wasn’t the worst thing. I could just say that it was a misunderstanding.
But it wasn’t. I had been about to kiss Owen, or he had been about to kiss me. I couldn’t tell, but I knew what my body wanted.
I wanted him to strip me slowly and fuck me roughly up against the steel locker doors.
And that was so very dangerous.
8
Owen
By Monday after the game, I was walking on my knee without pain. That was a fucking relief, because if my knee were really fucked up, my career could be done.
I had more at stake than just my career. There were dark things complicating everything I did, things I wasn’t proud of. Nobody knew about them, and nobody could know about them, because that would ruin me.
Worse, it would ruin my grandmother. She was in her late eighties and not in the best health. She couldn’t take care of herself anymore, so I was putting most of my money into paying for her long-term care facility. She was being taken care of only because I could afford to pay for it.
I hadn’t always been able to afford that, though. At my worst, when her money was running out and I had nothing to offer her, I had made a decision. I had made a decision that would change my life forever.
But that didn’t matter. My knee was okay, and I was going to live to play another day. I couldn’t admit to Taylor how damn worried I was about my injury, but I figured she could tell.
Monday’s practice came and went. I did okay, with minimal pain. Coach seemed to sense that I was holding back, and he let me off a little earlier than normal. I hit the ice bath and then had a short session with Taylor before heading home.
Tuesday came and went in much the same way. People always thought that professional athletes led these amazing, fun-filled lives, but that was far from the truth.
We had to work hard to stay at the top. That meant we didn’t have time to mess around when we were in season. My days were all about football, and my nights were all about resting my body. There was nothing else for me.
I wanted more, though. After practice on Tuesday, I found myself alone in my damn apartment, staring at the television. Back in college I always had people around me, and sometimes that got exhausting. But now that I was in the pros, I had the opposite problem. I was alone a lot of the time, living in my own apartment not too far from our practice facilities.
I looked at my phone, and I had an idea. It was a whim, a spur-of-the-moment kind of thing, but as soon as I thought of it, I couldn’t help myself.