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"Pretty great. I like our chances against Green Bay. We've got a solid offense, and we're ready to take them on." I nod and wipe the sweat from my face with the back of my hand.
“I’m sure your fans will love to hear that. Are you nervous about your first official game?” he asks, then thrusts the mic at me.
"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't, but honestly, I feel ready." And I feel cheesy talking into the camera like this.
“Good for you. What’s going to be the secret to your success?”
“I just have to stay focused, keep my eye on the prize, and I know I’ll come up a winner.”
“So, Coach Thompson’s ‘no girls for rookies’ rule won’t be a problem for you, then?”
“Definitely not. I’m all about focus.” I shake my head, hoping I look convincing to everyone watching—except for one person, that is.
Eleven
Jess
I shut the TV off and sit alone in the dark living room for a minute. Aunt Karen has gone to bed, and now I'm wishing I had, too. Watching Ethan's interview has made my gut ache. He looks so unbelievably handsome, but more than that, it's what he said that rocked my world. He needs to focus. He can't afford any distractions right now, and what would be more distracting than finding out he's going to be a father?
I grip the pillow on my lap and think of all the scenarios, trying to wrap my head around reality. Ethan doesn't want me. If he did, he would have called me back by now. There's no way he didn't get my messages. He just doesn't know how to let me down easy after everything he promised.
He's changed his mind, plain and simple. He has his shot at his dream, and he's forgotten all about the girl from the docks.
I get up and walk to my room, letting silent tears slide down my cheeks. I can't tell him about the baby. Not now, probably not ever. If he doesn't want me, I sure as hell am not going to trap him into being with me for the sake of our child. No, I'm better off without him. I'll have the baby, and Aunt Karen will stand by me and help me out through all of it.
I’ll pick myself up, dust myself off, and get a good education so I can support myself and my child. And hopefully, just maybe, I’ll be able to forget all about Ethan Harris. I rub my hand on my tummy, knowing that the new life growing inside me will never allow me to forget him. Not even for a single day.
Twelve
Ethan - Two Years Later
Ethan – Two Years Later
"Ethan! How's your leg?"
"Ethan, who's starting in tonight's game?"
"Ethan, are you and Lacey Riveria back on again?"
I try to shut out the sounds of the reporters as I walk from the parking lot to the brand-new stadium in Miami. I tuck my hat down and keep moving, pretending I don’t hear them, especially the part about the singer, Lacey Riveria, who the media mistakenly thinks I’m dating.
We were at a party together a few weeks ago, and she tweeted a photo of us together. The truth is, she walked up to me and just took the picture without even asking. I was kind of flattered, but now that the rumor mill has got going, I'm pretty pissed.
Lacey is not my type at all. She’s way overdone—fake everything from lips to breasts to butt. Plus, she’s dumb as all hell. Plus, she’s not Jess.
The thought of Jess makes my gut ache. I know I have to forget her but I can’t. It’s like I left my heart with her and I have to see her again to get it back, even though she dumped me like last week’s garbage.
I left messages at her house for months after I first moved to Arizona, but she never returned my calls. Her mom told me that she wasn't living there anymore. At first, I thought it was a lie until I called and her nephew answered. He told me the same thing. I don't know much about kids, but I don't think that ones as small as him are great at lying. She moved and didn't want me to know where. So, I guess that what I thought we had didn't mean much to her after all.
I push thoughts of Jessica out of my head as I walk the long hall to the team’s dressing room. One night in Miami, then we fly back home in the morning to prepare for next weekend’s game. I’m not complaining. I love my life. I’m living most guys’ fantasy. I just signed one of the biggest contracts in pro-football history. I can pretty much have any woman I want. The only problem is I don’t want any of them. And the one I do want, I can’t find anywhere. And even if I did find her, it’s not like she’d care.
The team’s trainer, Gary, meets me when I walk in the room. “How’s the quad?”
“It’s not bad. A bit stiff this morning.”
"Figured as much, so I booked a massage for you. The therapist is waiting in the training room." He tosses a towel at me, then points to a door on the other side of the locker room. "Go see her first. I'll tell Jim you'll be late for warm-up."
I nod, dropping my bag on the bench. “Thanks.”
