I’ll respect your
wishes, Violet. Your choice. If I don’t hear from you, you don’t have to worry.
I’ll never bother you again.”
“You’re scaring me.” Violet dropped the letter, reaching
out. Her hand touched the side of his face and for a moment, Gaige gave in to
the pleasure of her touch. “There is nothing that would make me stop wanting
you. Do you understand?”
“Your choice.” Gaige turned his head, his lips brushing the
palm of Violet’s hand. “Goodbye.”
“Gaige? I—”
“Don’t say anything you might regret.”
Gaige backed toward the door, wanting to look at her as long
as possible. It was torture, wondering if this was the last time.
“Goodbye, Gaige. I’ll see you soon.”
God, I hope so .
With one last look, Gaige walked away.
CHAPTER FIVE
PRESENT DAY
“IF YOU CAN’T catch a simple slant pass, get your ass off the
field.”
“Fuck you. I’ve been making you look good all season, old
man. Try getting some zip on the ball. Is that cannon of an arm of yours
turning into a popgun?”
Gaige hid his grin. Sean McBride knew how to give as good as
he got. But this was his team. He didn’t take shit from any player. Not even
his best friend.
“Go deep, asshole. I’ll show you what kind of shape my arm
is in.”
Sean ran one of their standard routes, cutting across the
field. Gaige took the ball from the snapper. He dropped back three steps,
paused for Sean to head downfield, cocked his shoulder, and let the ball fly.
High, with a perfect trajectory.
Gaige waited for the ball and Sean to catch up to each
other. It didn’t take long—both had plenty of speed. Inches from the goal line,
Sean reached up, making a perfect over the shoulder catch.
Applause broke out all over the field. Sean made a big
production of spiking the ball, his well-rehearsed touchdown dance drawing the
expected wolf whistles—and a few good-hearted jeers.
Gaige, on the other hand, remained stoic. He did what was
expected of him. The same thing he had been doing for the past sixteen years.
The Knights paid him to throw touchdowns, not make an ass of himself. It was
practice, for fuck’s sake. Showboating was for wide receivers, not
quarterbacks.
“Nice toss.”
Logan Price tossed Gaige a bottle of water and a towel.
Without blinking, Gaige made the dual catch, one in each hand, as smoothly as
any receiver. He removed the top and chugged down the entire bottle.
“It’s what I do,” Gaige said with a shrug.
“I know you think that sounds all humble and
self-deprecating.”
Gaige knew exactly how it sounded, but he left it up to his
running back to say the words.
“You sound a little like a dick.”
Wiping his face, Gaige grinned.
“Watch it, Price. Mix those words up and it sounds like you’re
commenting on the size of my dick, not my ego.”
“I’ve seen your dick. It’s nothing to write home about.”
Gaige sent Sol Fellows, Knights linebacker and old friend, a
wry, teasing smile.
“Does your wife know how much time you spend looking at my
dick?”
“Racine likes to know her man is numero uno, package-wise,
on the Knights.”
“First? What the hell? You and Racine talk about our junk?
That’s just weird. Second? I’d put my dick up against yours, metaphorically
speaking, any day of the week.”
“I need to start recording these conversations,” Logan shook
his head. “Claire doesn’t believe me when I tell her about the tangents you
guys go off on.”
“This is the NFL, son. It’s all about the balls,” Sol made a
big show of grabbing his crotch, “and the size of your dick. I know you’ve only
been back in the game a few months, but you remember how it is. Balls and dick.”
“And that doesn’t sound the least bit gay,” Gaige’s green
eyes sparkled. Then he added in a quote from one of his favorite Seinfeld
episodes. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that.”
“If you gentlemen are
wishes, Violet. Your choice. If I don’t hear from you, you don’t have to worry.
I’ll never bother you again.”
“You’re scaring me.” Violet dropped the letter, reaching
out. Her hand touched the side of his face and for a moment, Gaige gave in to
the pleasure of her touch. “There is nothing that would make me stop wanting
you. Do you understand?”
“Your choice.” Gaige turned his head, his lips brushing the
palm of Violet’s hand. “Goodbye.”
“Gaige? I—”
“Don’t say anything you might regret.”
Gaige backed toward the door, wanting to look at her as long
as possible. It was torture, wondering if this was the last time.
“Goodbye, Gaige. I’ll see you soon.”
God, I hope so .
With one last look, Gaige walked away.
CHAPTER FIVE
PRESENT DAY
“IF YOU CAN’T catch a simple slant pass, get your ass off the
field.”
“Fuck you. I’ve been making you look good all season, old
man. Try getting some zip on the ball. Is that cannon of an arm of yours
turning into a popgun?”
Gaige hid his grin. Sean McBride knew how to give as good as
he got. But this was his team. He didn’t take shit from any player. Not even
his best friend.
“Go deep, asshole. I’ll show you what kind of shape my arm
is in.”
Sean ran one of their standard routes, cutting across the
field. Gaige took the ball from the snapper. He dropped back three steps,
paused for Sean to head downfield, cocked his shoulder, and let the ball fly.
High, with a perfect trajectory.
Gaige waited for the ball and Sean to catch up to each
other. It didn’t take long—both had plenty of speed. Inches from the goal line,
Sean reached up, making a perfect over the shoulder catch.
Applause broke out all over the field. Sean made a big
production of spiking the ball, his well-rehearsed touchdown dance drawing the
expected wolf whistles—and a few good-hearted jeers.
Gaige, on the other hand, remained stoic. He did what was
expected of him. The same thing he had been doing for the past sixteen years.
The Knights paid him to throw touchdowns, not make an ass of himself. It was
practice, for fuck’s sake. Showboating was for wide receivers, not
quarterbacks.
“Nice toss.”
Logan Price tossed Gaige a bottle of water and a towel.
Without blinking, Gaige made the dual catch, one in each hand, as smoothly as
any receiver. He removed the top and chugged down the entire bottle.
“It’s what I do,” Gaige said with a shrug.
“I know you think that sounds all humble and
self-deprecating.”
Gaige knew exactly how it sounded, but he left it up to his
running back to say the words.
“You sound a little like a dick.”
Wiping his face, Gaige grinned.
“Watch it, Price. Mix those words up and it sounds like you’re
commenting on the size of my dick, not my ego.”
“I’ve seen your dick. It’s nothing to write home about.”
Gaige sent Sol Fellows, Knights linebacker and old friend, a
wry, teasing smile.
“Does your wife know how much time you spend looking at my
dick?”
“Racine likes to know her man is numero uno, package-wise,
on the Knights.”
“First? What the hell? You and Racine talk about our junk?
That’s just weird. Second? I’d put my dick up against yours, metaphorically
speaking, any day of the week.”
“I need to start recording these conversations,” Logan shook
his head. “Claire doesn’t believe me when I tell her about the tangents you
guys go off on.”
“This is the NFL, son. It’s all about the balls,” Sol made a
big show of grabbing his crotch, “and the size of your dick. I know you’ve only
been back in the game a few months, but you remember how it is. Balls and dick.”
“And that doesn’t sound the least bit gay,” Gaige’s green
eyes sparkled. Then he added in a quote from one of his favorite Seinfeld
episodes. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that.”
“If you gentlemen are
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