Long: A Secret Baby Sports Romance(23)

A minute later, a short man with dark hair appeared from the back. He smiled when he saw me.

“There he is!” he said. “The football star. Gibson Evans, I’m Vin.”

“Good to meet you,” I grunted.

“Likewise.” He shook my hand. He was wearing jeans, an Armani Exchange T-shirt, and a gold chain around his neck. He looked like the most cliché Italian mobster in the world.

“Come on, kid. Come on into the back. You want anything from the deli? Sandwich or something? Maybe some cheese?”

“I’m good,” I said.

“Okay. Come on.” I followed him behind the counter. The girl stared at us as we disappeared through the back door. Vin shut it behind us.

We were in a little office in the back of the deli. He sat down behind his desk and motioned for me to sit in one of the two chairs. I choose the one closer to the door and sat.

“Okay, kid,” Vin said. “What can I do for you?”

“I need a loan,” I said.

Vin nodded. “I figured. How much?”

“Twenty thousand,” I said.

He raised his eyebrows. “So you’re talking serious money here.”

I nodded. “I am. I can’t do this legit, or else the media will have a fucking field day. I can’t earn any money, because the university owns my ass right now. I need some help.”

“So you came to me,” he said, nodding. “I hear you, kid. I really do. But twenty grand, well, that’s pretty steep.”

“I’ll take less,” I said. “I’m going to make it to the NFL. Maybe not a starter, but I’ll be able to pay you back.”

“The NFL isn’t for a while,” he mused. “A lot can happen before then.”

“True. But believe me, nothing is going to get in my way.”

“I believe you, kid,” he said, smiling. “But listen. I’ll be up front with you. We’re just not interested in giving you a loan.”

I stared at him for a second, anger stirring in my chest. “Then why the fuck did you have me come all the way out here?” I said.

“Hold on now, Gibson,” he said, holding up his hands. “I can’t do a loan, but I think we can come to some other agreement.”

I paused. “Like what?”

“Gibson, how badly do you need to go into halftime with the lead next weekend?”

I stared at him for a second, slowly understanding what he was getting at.

“It’s always good to have momentum at half,” I said, hedging.

“Sure, sure. But what if you didn’t? Could you make that happen?”

“Maybe,” I said. “How much is that worth to you?”

“Five grand,” he said. “No negotiating. I’m just being up front with you, kid.”

“Five grand,” I said, leaning back in the chair. “For five grand, you want me to go into halftime losing to Mountain.”

“That’s right,” he said, nodding. “I suspect we’ll win some good money on that bet.”

“Then I can win it?”

He grinned at me. “You better. We want you to get into the NFL, kid.”

I crossed my arms, my jaw tight.

I’d never done something like this in my life. It felt dishonest, like cheating or some shit. But in the end, football was just a fucking game, and this was my kid’s life I was doing this for. My kid’s life and Avery, too.

“I think I can do that,” I said slowly.

“Excellent,” Vin said, grinning hugely. “Very good, kid. I think we can be good business partners.”

I knew I shouldn’t agree to this. I knew I should get up and leave and find some other way to get money. Maybe if I told Coach, he could help me, or maybe I could sell some of my stuff on the black market.

But this wasn’t impossible, and five grand was a good amount of money. I could keep the game close and then just dominate them in the second half. Coach would easily chalk it all up to early season jitters. If I looked good in the second half, that was all anybody would remember.

I had morals and integrity. I had honesty and honor. But my integrity, my morals, my honor, they all said that taking care of my unborn child and my child’s mother was way more important than a sport.

I would do anything for Avery and my kid, no matter what.





10





Avery





Monday morning and my alarm clock was blaring. I rolled over, groaning, and shut it off.

I stared up at the ceiling, my thoughts swirling around the same problems over and over. I’d been trying to figure out how I was going to do this study with Gibson, or if it was even a good idea.

I didn’t know how close I wanted to get to him. He was practically famous, and he had this whole different life that I couldn’t really understand. This baby came out of nowhere for both of us, and it didn’t seem like either of us could really handle this or figure it out.