It’s Always Us (Abandoned Brothers #3)

Chapter 7

MARK

My buzzing phone pulls me from bliss, but the small, warm, soft body tucked beside mine reminds me that I finally have everything I need. She’s it, and she’s my wife.

My hand finds her bare hip as I push her hair away with my chin, placing a soft kiss on her neck. There’s no way I slept enough last night, but I will survive on stupid, happy adrenaline.

My phone vibrates again. I snatch it from the nightstand, seeing Rob, my agent’s name, which is strange for it to be so early and on a game day.

I carry it to the bathroom and accept the call, speaking softly so I don’t wake Lex. My wife.

I grin, peeking back at her blonde hair fanned over the pillow.

“Hey, Rob. What’s up?” I close the door as his voice fills my ear.

“Please tell me the rumors aren’t true.”

I rub a hand over my face, trying to sort through getting Lex to meet me back in New York. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

“Seriously. The buzz on social sites is that you got married last night. There are no pics but unnamed sources. The supposed Vegas chapel is listed, and details of the quick nuptials are making the rounds.”

I sit on the side of the tub, thinking through my response.

“I don’t like that you’re taking a minute to think about it.” He sighs, and I have no doubt my longtime agent is running a hand over his face. “What the hell is going on? You know how I feel about surprises, and part of our agreement is that you don’t do stupid things that end up making me look bad. Where are you? ”

“Vegas.” That’s an easy answer.

“Shit. Are you with the team?”

“No.”

“Why the hell not?” His usual calm demeanor quickly turns to full-on irritation.

“I had an emergency.”

“The kind of emergency that involves a Vegas wedding chapel the night before a big game? Do I need to remind you that keeping your standing is critical for next season?”

“There’s nothing to worry about. I’ll be on my A-game.”

“Shit, Mark. You know there’s more to this than that. If you lose—”

“We won’t lose. I’m ready. I’m more ready than I’ve ever been.”

“Is that because you did something last night that I need to know about?”

I let out a breath, rubbing my temples while I think about what this all means. This is the part that I didn’t think about. The part where I don’t get to call all the shots on how things go in my life. The part where I have commitments and contracts and an overloaded schedule, and Lex . . . All I know is I need her with me.

“If I tell you, it stays between us.”

He mutters a few words I choose to ignore. “You know our deal, but that doesn’t mean I won’t kill you or move on when our contract ends.”

“You won’t leave me. You like me too much.” I try for charm, knowing it won’t work this time.

“Spill it, Mark, before I dump your ass to fend for yourself.”

“I got married last night.” He lets out a string of colorful words, and I try to remain calm.

“That’s great. Congratulations. Don’t you think you could have given me a heads-up or an invitation or taken a second to think this through? When this leaks, and it’s already started, your ass will be grass. Not to mention when your latest spontaneous flare-up comes crashing down in your face with divorce papers and—”

I stop him right there, my easygoing, blissful state quickly morphing into furious defense. “Divorce?” I hold back the laugh that would be smothered in irritated sarcasm. “Yeah, never happening, so you can let that worry go. ”

“Mark.” He says my name like a parent trying to hold their tongue to keep from saying what they really want to say. “Everything you’ve worked for is riding on the outcome of this season and your shoulder holding up. We don’t have room for tabloids and major headlines and . . . scandalous outbursts.”

Scandalous outbursts? I want to yell, but I bite my tongue so hard it might bleed. I want to punch something. Maybe myself, square in the face.

Lex asked me straight up last night what happens today, and this . . . this is what happens. I have to jog onto the field in a matter of hours and not cause a media ruckus.

The problem is, I won’t be letting her out of my sight, but I don’t know how to do that and keep my job and prospects running smoothly.

I run a hand through my hair. My fingers grip the long strands tightly, causing pain to spread throughout the top of my scalp. “Let me get through the game today. We win, and this won’t matter. I paid the chapel to ensure it would remain private. They may be spilling tidbits, but there were no pictures. These places rely on keeping things private. They’d be morons to talk.”

“Shit, Sandberg, we deal with the biggest idiots of them all every day.” He’s almost crossed over into yelling, but he pauses, toning it back. “What does your organization think you’ve been doing?”

“I told them I had an emergency.”

“This just keeps getting worse. Did you spend any amount of time thinking any of this through?”

My temper reawakens. Last night was the most important night of my life, and I won’t feel bad about one second of it.

“I didn’t think it through. I don’t know what to do now besides get my ass to the stadium and win this game. Then I’ll figure all this out later.”

“I bet your wife will love to hear that.”

His ridicule is the last thing I need at the moment, but he’s right. I have no idea what to say to the woman lying in bed right now—the one I need to sleep in my bed every night. We’ve been apart for so long, and she’s not been a witness to this side of my life.

“If this makes the rounds and you don’t win the game, I have no idea how to fix this. I hope she’s everything you think she is.” She’s more. I clench my jaw so hard my molars grind. “Keep her on the DL for now. Win this game, and let’s hope this settles quickly, at least to get you through the rest of the season. After that and your shoulder surgery, we need teams to still be interested in what you have to offer.”

The blunt reminder of all that’s ahead of me feels like a two-ton weight bar being set on my shoulders, and one of them needs repair.

After this season, I’m a free agent and want out of the city, now more than ever. I need a team and organization that’s willing to take a chance on me post-shoulder repair. Rob’s right. Giving them any additional negative impressions or the idea that I don’t take my status seriously might kill my chances.

“I hear you.”

“Be smart from here on out. Don’t make this worse than it already is, and make sure you win today.”

“Yeah, no pressure, right?”

“Hey, it’s the name of the game. I hope you don’t regret this.”

Suddenly, the entire world rests on my ability to win, keep news of my marriage off screens, and somehow explain all this to Lex.

“I have a lot of regrets, but don’t worry, I’ll do what I have to do.”

I hang up, not caring for any of the thoughts running through my head about what that really means, but I don’t have time to think. I have to talk to Lex and get ready to win a game.

I turn on the shower, letting steam fill the room while I figure out exactly what to say to Lex. All I want is for her to go to the game and then meet me back in New York so we can be together. What I know is she’d hate the city, and her life is back in Ohio.

After showering and drying off, I open the door to find her sitting on the edge of the bed, fully clothed, with her backpack zipped on the floor beside her. When she doesn’t look at me, a cold sweat envelops my still-damp body with the realization of what she might have heard. Shit!

The last thing I want to do is try to make this better and then leave her, but it appears she might beat me to it.

My stomach hits the carpeted floor.

Her eyes finally drag up to meet mine. “I didn’t want to just leave this time.”

“What?” My cold sweat turns into full-on panic, and my heart starts sprinting while my legs remain still.

“I guess we should’ve thought this through. ”

My words are tossed back at me, and I know she heard. Fuck. F uck! FUCK! I close my eyes, wholly inadequate to handle this when my ass needs to be in a car on the way to the stadium in thirty minutes.

“Lex, what you heard—”

She stands, shaking her head, her eyes trained on the floor again. “I have to go, and you have a game to win.”

I quickly step in front of her, blocking her exit. “So, you’re just going to go, disappear like you did last time?” I see the slap of my words on her downcast face.

I step toward her, wanting to take it back, but my anxiety shoots through the roof and is freefalling. “I don’t want you to go. I want you to go to the game. I want to know you’re in the stands.”

Her tired, bright blue eyes meet mine, but I can’t read the look on her face, and I hate it. I used to be able to tell everything she was thinking.

I push through the blood pooling in my ears and the sweat collecting in all the places I just washed. “Then I want you to meet me back in New York. I want to be with you.” I don’t even try to hide the desperation in my voice, knowing my time is ticking down.

“But none of that is going to happen.” The surety of her soft words strikes me right in the throat. “I’m going home, and you . . . have a game to win. I don’t want to be a problem or a distraction or whatever else might cause you to have more regrets.”

I jam my hands into my hair, unable to handle the pressure of needing to get this right with everything else that’s crashing down on me. My chest constricts, and my hands shake.

“There’s no part of me that regrets this. That’s not what I meant.” Her head drops again, and I move my unsteady hand to bring it back up. “Lex, that’s not what I meant. There’s a lot that’s going on. I have to make it into the playoffs, and then . . . ” I don’t know!

Her eyes flick between mine. “I think maybe we got ahead of ourselves. We got caught up in the past, not thinking about all that’s changed. We’ve changed, and our lives are . . . separate.”

My lungs quit working, and I suck in air, but it’s painful. “Shit! No! Don’t do this!” I pace with the need to fix this, but I don’t have time, and the reality is neither of us can stay. “I love you.”

Her quiet voice has me frozen. “Maybe it’s not enough. Maybe it never has been. Maybe that’s why it took eight years for us to get here, realizing that too much time has passed and everything has changed. We’ve changed, and our lives are so far apart.”

The defeat and sadness in her voice is like a hand being shoved straight through my chest.

“I just need time to figure this out. I need to get through this season and then—”

She reaches for her backpack and throws it over her shoulder. “It sounds like you just need to get through today.”

I grab her face in my hands, desperate for her to hear me. “This isn’t over. This wasn’t a mistake. I don’t have a single regret except for not coming back for you sooner. I need you.” Maybe if I keep saying it, she’ll hear me.

She doesn’t move, her eyes holding mine. Then she pushes up on her toes, kissing me. Gently, softly, and then she swings her arms around my neck, pulling me close. She hugs me tightly. So damn tight and doesn’t let go. “Go win this game.”

I wrap her up, wanting every moment of this to seep into my body.

All I can do is release her as she pulls away, her eyes holding mine. One side of her mouth tips upward, but only barely. Then, just like that, she opens the door and is gone.

I want to run after her and carry her with me wherever I go, but I can’t. I have a team and an organization depending on me to carry us through to the playoffs.

But this isn’t done. I don’t know what happens now, but Lex and I will be together.

______

SHANE: Shit, Mark. What’s this about you getting married?

MAGGIE: Did you get married? Were you drunk? Shane’s about to blow a gasket. *Laughing face emoji*

SEAN: LOL. Did you get married? Are you lashing out?

SEAN: Bro, what’s happening? You better answer.

ANDIE: You little shit. Are you trying to one-up us?

SEAN: Babe, I’m down for creating a new scandal with you.

MAGGIE: STOOPPPPP!

MAGGIE: No more scandals. I don’t have time to kick anyone’s ass.

SHANE: Good luck getting out of this one.