It’s Always Us (Abandoned Brothers #3)

Chapter 11

MARK

Finishing up physical therapy, I head toward the conference rooms for a team meeting. Seeing I have a few minutes to spare, I pull out my phone and dial Lex, hoping to catch her. Ever since she left me in Vegas, I’ve feared the day when she tells me this isn’t going to work and disappears again.

Trying to date Lex hasn’t turned out how I wanted. I’m worried she’s feeling the distance between us as much as I am. I thought our nightly phone calls would be enough. But instead of nightly, they’ve become sporadic, and that distance is growing.

My life is tied to the game. We’re on the cusp of playoffs, and the interviews, sponsorships, and press functions are constant. It’s all on top of hours of practice, physical therapy, team meetings, and studying for games. Then, there are never-ending foundation meetings and requests, and I rarely have a moment to myself.

It all comes with making it to the top and leading my team into division finals. But I need Lex, and I’m desperate to know she’s still with me. We talked about her visiting, but when it comes down to it, she’ll spend most of her time sitting around, waiting for me.

I’m realizing I’m not sure I know how to do this—manage my job and a relationship. Football has been everything. My entire life has revolved around this game and every opportunity it’s given me. But now, I have to figure out how to try to balance both.

Her voicemail picks up as my teammates pass, heading into the conference room. I end the call, that nagging worry increasing as if it’s a living, breathing thing growing inside me. I finally have her back in my life, and there’s no way I’m going to screw this up, but it’s quite possible I already am.

I find my seat and try to focus on the upcoming game as Coach gets things rolling. Over the next hour, the pressure of it all builds until there’s a giant rubber band looping around my rib cage with each and every order and expectation.

My body temperature creeps to a thousand degrees, and I want to crawl out of my skin. I’ve given this team and this organization everything I’ve got for the past six years. I’ve held off on surgery to be able to stay on the field and carry us this far despite the pain, possible further damage, and time I spend in therapy every single day.

Each game, I jog out of the tunnel, wondering if I’ll make it—if my shoulder will hold together. But right now, I’m worried about holding together a whole lot more than just my shoulder.

As the meeting ends, I’m agitated as hell and standing on the edge of losing my shit. I want to go home, talk to Lex, and get my head straight.

“Hey, man. You watching the game later? I think this might be the end of the road for them,” Carlos asks, getting up from the table.

“I may catch some of it.”

“Come on, man. We need to be ready to take on the Vipers. Some of the guys are coming over, and your arm could use every advantage we can find.”

This kid tells me this as if I don’t know I need to be prepared or understand what’s at stake.

“Thanks, but I’ve got to take care of some things.” Like making sure I hear the only voice that matters.

“Is that code for hooking up with Rochelle?” he snickers.

I frown, turning to face him, not even trying to hide the fact that I’m pissed. “What?!”

“We saw her slide into you the other day and how you were chatting her up. She’s hot and clearly into you. Come on. We all know how you are.”

I don’t know what he’s talking about, but my limited amount of patience just blew into oblivion.

Rochelle is the team owner’s daughter, and there’s no way in hell I’d ever be stupid enough to get involved in that, even if I weren’t married. It’s no surprise that people want to speculate and turn it into something it’s not and will certainly never be, but I’ll be damned if I’ll let this rumor start.

“I don’t date within the organization. Never have.”

“Ahhh. You sign with another team next season, and you no longer have an issue. I’ve heard she’s . . . ”

I don’t hear the rest of what he says, clenching both hands into fists, and I quickly release my right as pain shoots through me. I grab my notebook, turning away from him and his wiseass. “I’m done dating. How about you keep your mouth shut and make sure you know the plays?”

He laughs, holding his stomach like it’s the funniest thing he’s heard. “Y’all,” he calls out to the remaining guys in the room. “Sandberg’s on hiatus. He says he’s done dating.”

An eruption of scoffs and hushed comments fills the emptying room.

“Carlos, you need to make sure you know how to run and catch a fucking football at the same time. Otherwise, find a knitting circle who gives a shit about whatever it is you think you know.”

I may have done my fair share of hanging out with women over the years, but it was definitely not in the way these guys think it was, and I’m not proud of letting them believe otherwise.

I stomp to the locker room, ready to take the field with these jokers so I can go home. My time here with the Liberties may be short-lived. My contract is up after this season, and I’ve been ready for a change, but never more than today.

______

I hold my phone like a lifeline, willing her to pick up. It rings and rings. Then it’s that damn automated voice I’m getting really sick of. It’s been days since we’ve talked. Clenching my jaw, I squeeze my phone, not caring if it breaks. This is Lex disappearing, and I know it. I’ve been here before.

I contemplate screwing it all and arranging a flight, needing to see her.

While I ponder the consequences I’m not sure I give a shit about, I turn on the Vipers’ game, hoping it will calm my impatience and temper before they drive me to complete freaking insanity .

I watch the first quarter while icing my shoulder and trying to keep myself from obnoxiously dialing Lex every five minutes, but I’m tempted. Her name on my screen waves itself in my face, daring me.

I give it until halftime, and then my finger takes over, tapping her name before I can stop it. I hit the speaker button, waiting for that loathsome message, but as my thumb violently hangs over the end button, I hear her voice.

“Hey. Can I call you back?”

My instantaneous relief quickly vanishes when I hear music in the background that isn’t the normal country music she listens to at the shop.

“Yeah. I don’t care what time it is.”

“Ok. It shouldn’t be too long.”

We hang up, and I sit by the phone waiting. I want to know where she is, and I’d know if we’d actually been able to talk the past few days.

Half an hour later, I’ve watched none of the third quarter while I stew about where Lex is and what she’s doing. I don’t want to have to wonder. I want to be wherever she is, doing whatever she’s doing, not sitting here making shit up in my head because I can’t be.

My phone vibrates, and I snatch it up, having lost all sense of calm and coolness that used to be my MO.

“Hi. I was contemplating sending out a search party.”

“Sorry.”

There’s the rumble of her truck, and I realize she’s still not home. “Where are you?” I try to sound casual, but after my day, I’m having trouble keeping anything together.

“Um . . . I was helping a friend out.”

“A friend?”

“Yeah. I was babysitting.”

“Babysitting?”

“Yeah. Don’t sound so surprised like I’m incapable of watching a child.”

I run a hand through my hair, relieved she wasn’t hanging out with Slade or any other of the guys she works with. “It’s not that, I just . . . ” I decide to let it go because I miss her so much. My unwarranted jealousy has nothing to do with her or even the guys she works with. It’s all me. “The past days have been . . . ” My agitation and frustration dip as I realize how much I sound like a sad, lonely puppy dog, and it’s ridiculous. “Not talking to you isn’t working for me.”

When all I hear is road noise, my nerves perk right back up.

“I’ve had some things going on and haven’t always been alone.” Her somber tone revs up my worry again. I need it to back the hell off.

“Tell me what’s been going on. I miss you. I’ve missed talking to you and want to know everything.”

“It doesn’t really matter now.”

Something is wrong. I can feel it. “What’s wrong? I want to know. Please.”

There’s a long pause, and I listen to the rumble of her truck. “I . . . didn’t pass my test.”

Shit . I run a hand over my face. I forgot about her test. I grip my hair, wanting to rip it out. “Lex . . . Baby, I’m so sorry. I for—”

“How’s your shoulder?” she deflects, and I know she doesn’t want to talk about it, but I’m not standing for it.

“Lex, tell me about the test. What happened? I’m so sorry—”

“Mark, please.” Her soft voice is a jab to my gut. “Can we just . . . ” She pauses, and it’s filled with defeat and disappointment. I remember this part of Lex so well. “How’s your shoulder today?”

I close my eyes, knowing I’m a complete asshole but letting it go for her. I’ve got to do better. She is everything to me, and I’ve not been showing it. I want to punch myself in the face.

“It feels like it’s being mauled by a tiger.” She sighs as if this conversation is taxing, and my frustration with everything rears its red-hot, ugly head. “What’s up, Lex? I need you to tell me. Something. Anything.”

She takes a second before she responds. “I don’t know. Maybe you should tell me. I know you’re busy and have a lot on your plate, but it’s been over a month since Vegas. This trying to date, or whatever you want to pretend it is, isn’t working.”

Her tone is stiff but not biting. She’s telling me straight up, and I can’t even be mad about it.

“Lex, I’m doing the best I can. I think about you all the time. I need to get through these next few weeks— ”

“Were you thinking about me when dark hair and long legs had her hands spread across your chest and her boobs pressed against you? Or was that just a stunt to make sure no one thinks those wedding rumors are real?”

I let my head fall back onto my headboard. Here’s to every single stupid decision I’ve made coming back to bite me square in the ass.

“That wasn’t what it might have looked like. Her father owns the Liberties. I didn’t have much of a choice. She showed up on the practice field for a photo shoot.”

“Mark, it doesn’t matter.”

“Like hell it doesn’t, but you don’t want to hear what I have to say.” I’ve hit my limit as the pressure all around me folds in, and I can’t breathe.

There’s silence except for the sound of her engine that’s drowned out by the complete desperation filling my ears.

I try to pull in air, but it’s difficult. “Lex, tell me what’s going on. Tell me what you’re thinking because I can assure you no woman is taking up any of my time or mental space except you.” The pounding of my heart is so loud it’s all I can hear. “There never has been.”

After a few seconds, the engine quiets, and I wonder if she’s home.

“Mark, it’s not the pictures. It’s everything. The reality of all of this is hitting, and I don’t know how we’re supposed to do this. Maybe—”

“Lex, don’t. Please. I need—”

“To get through the season, I know.” Her voice is soft and gentle, but my head might actually explode. “But then what? You don’t even know. It’s like we’re trying to wish this into something it’s never going to be.” Her voice is even softer now. “I just walked away from that. Trying to make a relationship into something it wasn’t.”

“This is not the same. That asshole wanted you to be someone else. He didn’t even know you. All I want is you. Just you.”

“The season will end, and then what? You’ll have surgery, recovery, training . . . My job is here, and I can’t just work anywhere.” Her voice cracks, and I feel like I’ve been punched in the throat. “This isn’t . . . ”

I can’t even speak as something somewhere deep inside me begins to crack. Any more, and I’ll crumble into a thousand pieces.

Her voice cuts through my spiraling panic. “Maybe you should finish the season and— ”

“No.” I’ve never been a quitter. I had to fight for my very life more times than I can count, and this feels no different. I didn’t surrender then, and I sure as hell won’t now. “I’m not giving up. Not now, not ever. I won’t be without you again. Ever.”

She sniffs, and her voice is so quiet I barely hear her. “We aren’t together now.”

Smack. I felt it all the way through the phone. There’s nothing but silence as my chest burns with fear.

It takes me a second to come to, and when I do, I’m consumed with rage. Not at Lex, but at the situation. At life and how much time has been wasted, and now, when she might actually be able to be mine, she’s slipping away all over again.

“When this season is over, I’m coming for you. Lex, I love you, only you. We’ll figure this out, and we will be together.”

I hang up, unable to stand to hear her cry or ask any more questions I don’t have the answers to.

I shove the cool ice pack off my shoulder and lay flat on my bed, needing air in my lungs and my body to relax. This can’t happen. I don’t care what I have to do. She and I will be together.

She doesn’t have to believe it. I’ll show her.