Completing the Pass Page 20

  Got her there. “Josh Leeman?” Why did she phrase it as a question?

  “Oh! Trey’s backup.” Mellie bounced a little. “I’m excited to see how he does. Have you talked to him? Is he nervous? Pumped?”

  “It’s moments like these I miss Irene,” Cassie said with a shake of her head. “She could watch the game quietly.”

  “Irene’s my big sister,” Mellie explained for Carri. “Well, the middle sister, technically.” That thought seemed to make her grin like a fool. “She’s at college now. She escaped,” Mellie added, using air quotes. “Her words, not mine.”

  Since Carri could relate to the sentiment, she simply kept her mouth shut.

  “Oh, here we go!” With the same sort of excitement of a young girl watching a parade of Disney princesses, Mellie sat forward in her seat. “Josh is on the field. Oh my God, are you freaked out?”

  “Well, I wasn’t . . .” But now? Yeah. Freaked out was a pretty good way of putting it. “I’m not all that familiar with the sport, to be honest.”

  “Neither was I,” Cassie told her easily. “Still don’t know all the little nuances of the game. I’m here for the support.”

  Mellie held up the last bite of her hot dog. “And the food!”

  “And the food. Whoops, I’m distracting you. Here we go!” Cassie sat up straight and leaned forward. Carri couldn’t do it, though. She actually, physically, covered her eyes as the first play of the game began.

  ***

  Josh jogged out with his teammates for his first play of the game. He flexed his hands to keep them from shaking. As he slowed, he listened to the offensive coordinator giving him a play via the coach-to-quarterback comm set. Thank God Trey had harped on him the importance of memorizing each play. Not all QBs did, but in Trey’s mind, it made the difference.

  Josh waited for the guys to huddle, yelled the play, then felt his worries slide off when the guys took the play without a second thought, shouting, “Break!” and headed to their positions. Taking his spot behind Michael Lambert, Josh watched the defense line up. The offensive coordinator was still talking but then, silence. With fifteen seconds to zero on the play clock, the comm went silent, as it should.

  Then, Josh sensed a shift from the corner of his eye. He turned, just slightly, watched as the defense arranged themselves, and had a half-second to think, “Shit,” before yelling out an audible.

  ***

  “The defense shifted. Shit,” Cassie groaned, sounding upset enough to have Carri wanting to peek. But she just . . . She couldn’t. “And he can’t hear the coaches anymore in the headset.”

  “He can do it,” Mellie whispered, touching Carri’s shoulder gently for a moment. The soft-spoken, gentle words seemed out of character for the bright teen, but they seeped into Carri’s bones and soothed the ache in her heart.

  “He . . . No way!”

  At Cassie’s disbelief, Cassi risked a look—just up at her new friend, not the field. Cassie’s stunned face grinned down at her.

  “He audibled!”

  ***

  Josh dropped back from under the center to shotgun, waited for the snap, then thanked God the ball landed solidly in his hands. With the ball cradled between them as he used his newfound footwork to get into better position, he felt more in control. More settled. And just as he saw from the corner of his eye the defender charging like a freight train, he took a few steps, saw what might have been a pocket of perfection, and threw like his life depended on it.

  He had a moment of panic as he watched his receiver, William Witcher, head for the ball, tailed closely by a Bills defender. Had he thrown an interception? Had he fucked up so soon? His lungs seized in panic.

  The defender charging him veered off, avoiding a penalty for a late hit, but he wasn’t able to breathe until he saw Will’s arms stretch, his hands reach . . . and snag the ball perfectly out of the air on a diving catch as if they’d been practicing the move for a decade.

  Then he couldn’t catch his breath at all as his teammates surrounded him and slapped him on the back and shoulders in celebration. Then he heard the coach in his headset, equal parts berating him for stepping off script—something the coaches likely wouldn’t care about if he were Trey—and praising him for making the pass work for some serious yardage.

  And for the first time, the first real time, the final bit of worry, the last bit of panic about being able to hang left his shoulders.

  “Let’s play, gentlemen,” he murmured as he walked to line up again behind Michael.

  ***

  Carri felt a nudge from the right, but wouldn’t look up. Instead, she just shook her head.

  “Do you want me to run commentary?” Mellie asked.

  She shook her head again.

  “Okay, but . . . Oh!”

  With that, there was a huge cheer from inside their skybox and in the stands, and she felt both Mellie and Cassie jump to their feet on either side of her.

  She couldn’t look. Couldn’t look. Couldn’t . . .

  She was looking. With trepidation, she peeked through her fingers . . .

  And found herself looking at the back of someone’s head. Helpful.

  “Get up!” Cassie grabbed her hand and pulled until Carri stood up. “Look! First down! Twenty-two-yard pass!”

  “He did that? Josh did that?” Carri couldn’t stop grinning. “He did that!”

  She found number eleven on the field and her eyes didn’t stop tracking him the whole time. Watched as he huddled the team together, watched as he pointed and—she assumed—yelled, and called out plays. The other players were listening to him, responding to his direction.

  And three plays later, when they were at first and goal, Carri squeezed Cassie’s hand so hard the other woman gasped. But then Josh darted, dodged, and dove right between two defenders wearing Bills jerseys . . . and extended the football just past the goal line before being leveled by an opponent. But it was too late. He’d crossed the goal line with the ball.

  “Score!” Mellie screamed. Cassie jumped up and down.

  Carri couldn’t move. Something inside her froze, then melted until her knees buckled and she sat heavily in her chair.

  “Carri? Are you okay?” Cassie sat beside her as Mellie wandered off to talk to someone. “Carri, you’re a little white. Let me get you a water.”

  “No,” she whispered. “No, I’m . . .” Good would be a lie. Fine would be, too. “Relieved? Can I say that?” she whispered. “Does that sound terrible, like I didn’t believe in him?”

  “No.” Cassie’s voice was firm. “I married Trey freaking Owens. And there are days I’m still relieved he has a job, stupid as that sounds. Now stand up and keep cheering your man on.”

  “He’s not my—”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Cassie rolled her eyes and grinned, then tugged until Carri stood again. “Get in the game, Gray. Get in the game.”

  ***

  After the game, Carri stood in the interior lobby of Josh’s apartment complex. She was grateful now that Josh had added her to the list of approved visitors. The building was constructed so that there were two lobbies, an interior and an exterior. The parking garage for the building emptied into the interior lobby, meaning residents didn’t have to walk outside if they didn’t want to. But those who didn’t have parking passes had to come through the exterior. If they were approved, they were allowed in. Otherwise, they had to wait in the exterior lobby—at least sheltered from the weather—until they were given the okay by a resident.

  Carri watched as a few people sat out there in the exterior lobby, hopefully waiting. Many were women, though not all. And she was grateful she’d been given the okay to come through.

  She bounced on her toes, unable to stand still. There were too many emotions swirling around her, bumping into each other, dying for a way to escape. When was the last time footb
all had given her energy?

  That would be never.

  But watching Josh play, live and in person, during an actual game? It had given her some sort of electric jolt to the system, and she’d been practically bubbly since she’d watched his touchdown. Where the heck was Josh so she could celebrate with him and expend some of this energy?

  A few players had already returned, grabbed a waiting beauty, and hauled it up the elevators for what Carri could only assume would be a celebratory love fest.

  What a way to cap off a landslide victory . . .

  An older man, about her father’s age, stood at the exterior lobby’s reception desk, arguing heatedly with the college-aged attendant. Though she couldn’t hear all of what was being said, it was clearly an intense exchange. Carri felt sorry for the young lady, but even more sorry for the security men who were approaching. It didn’t look like it would be an easy task to remove the man. Media personnel were the worst. Cassie had told Carri a few stories during halftime that would have made Carri want to hide under a rock. Cassie laughed about it, but Carri could tell it hadn’t always been so amusing to deal with. But the other woman seemed totally at ease with her relationship and family being on display now. Or if she wasn’t, she played it off well.

  Josh came in through the parking-lot entrance with another player, laughing and joking. The moment he caught sight of her, however, he stopped dead in his tracks.

  She gave him a little wave, and he waved back. His teammate slapped him on the shoulder, then took off for the elevator.

  “Hi,” she said as he approached.

  “You’re here.” He paused a few feet away, looking at her like he was seeing an illusion, or waiting for the Gotcha to fly at him. “I thought I’d have to go back to your place and get you.”

  “I figured you’d want me here.” When he didn’t do anything, she shoved her hands in her pockets. “I borrowed a shirt from Cassie,” she added, looking down at her faded charcoal gray shirt with the Bobcats logo on the front. “Sorry I didn’t have something with your name on it. It’s not really my style, but— Oh!” Her words—her breath—cut off as he gripped her in a tight hug, rocking them a little from side to side.

  “I’m so glad you came,” he said into her neck. “I needed this.”

  She rubbed his back for a moment. “Me, too.”

  There was a loud scuffle from the exterior lobby, and they both turned to watch as the older man from a minute earlier started pulling away from the security guard who tried to guide him out by the elbow. “No,” he said in a loud voice, dancing back a few steps. “I’m not leaving until I see my damn son!”

  Carri felt bad for the security guards, and was about to suggest they head upstairs to give them some space to do their job when Josh stiffened beside her.

  “Dad?” he whispered.

  Dad? Carri looked up at him, then at the man fighting away from the two security guards. Squinting, she tried to reconcile him with the hazy image she had of Josh’s father from two decades before . . . and couldn’t. She’d been too young, and too much time had passed for her to clearly remember what his father had looked like. But surely . . . No. It was just Josh’s mind playing tricks on him.

  “Dad,” Josh said more loudly, and the man turned around, cautiously at first, then with a wide smile.

  “Son.” When a guard grabbed both the older man’s arms, he tried to shake them off. “Can’t you see my son’s here? What’s wrong with you people?”

  “Mr. Leeman.” The young woman from the front desk shuffled over, straightening her dark blazer as she tried to hurry without outright running. “This man’s been saying you wanted to see him, but he’s not on your list and then he put up a fight when we asked him to return later, and—”

  “It’s fine, Amanda,” Josh said, his voice sounding a little rough. “Just . . . give me a minute.”

  “Of course.” Amanda motioned to the security guards, and they fell back instantly, allowing the older man to walk through the exterior lobby doors.

  Carri attempted to step behind him, heading for the elevator to give them some privacy, but Josh gripped her waist tightly in a silent plea—or order—to stay with him. Either way, she couldn’t break his hold, so stay she would.

  The older man approached, and Carri tried to see what features Josh shared with him. But he was a complete stranger. His face looked worn, and not in the way of gentle aging with happy memories, but of hard living. His sports jacket looked a little large for his frame, as if maybe he’d lost some weight recently. He wasn’t gaunt, but on the slender side of things for his build.

  “Son.” The man reached out a hand, and Josh ignored it. After a few awkward beats passed, he lowered it again. “Okay, I probably deserved that.”

  “You deserve a lot. That’s the least of it,” Josh said, his voice calm, but in the worst sort of way. It wasn’t a spring lake, but a frozen-solid pond, of which the ice was burning cold to the touch. Carri reached up behind him to caress just below the collar of his suit jacket. Praying her touch could soothe his ragged nerves. “I don’t know how you found me, but I know why you’re here.”

  “To see my son—” he began, but Josh cut him off.

  “Don’t you dare pull that shit. I believed you in high school, when you showed up after I signed with LSU, only to disappear again. I was skeptical when you came around just before the draft in college, when you up and evaporated again overnight. And I didn’t buy your bullshit the year I got traded to the Bobcats. So there’s nothing—not one damn thing—you could say to me now that would make me believe your shit. Not one thing you could say to make me give one damn about you.”

  “Hey,” the older man cut in, leaning close, his voice low and full of anger. “I’m your father. You don’t talk to me that way.”

  “You’re a sperm donor with an agenda, nothing more. You’re not even a man.” Josh took a step back, pulling Carri with him. His grip on her was nearly painful now, but she stayed silent. “Come around here again and I’ll have you arrested.”

  He started to walk for the elevator, but the man—his father—called after him, “I guess I’ll just go pop in and see your mom, then. It’s probably a good a time as any to catch up with Gail. I’ve missed her.”

  Carri nearly fell as Josh spun around her and advanced on his father, leaving her behind. The man’s eyes glinted with something akin to anticipation. Carri hustled after him and grabbed onto one arm just as he cocked it back.

  “Don’t! Don’t. Please, Josh, don’t. No, no, no.”

  Josh whirled, and she knew he wasn’t even seeing her anymore. Just the red haze of fury. “Josh, no,” she whispered. “Baby, no. He wants this. He wants you upset. Please, let’s go upstairs. Let security handle this.”

  Almost as if the words had finally sunken in, he began breathing heavily and stepped away with her. When he looked over his shoulder at his father, Carri could feel the venom, and she shivered.

  “Get rid of him, please,” was all Josh said to the security guards. They advanced on Josh’s father before another beat passed, efficiently bundling him out the door without hesitation. The man protested, yelled curses, and made a nuisance of himself . . . but he was gone.

  Carri hit the button for the elevator, pushed Josh in, then just held on to him as the doors closed.

  ***

  Josh threw his keys down on the table, knocking into the bowl they usually landed in and sending it to the floor to spin like a demented child’s toy.

  Carri hung back, which was probably for the best. God, how was it he’d gotten to this age and his fucking sperm donor of a father still had the power to fuck with his head like this? Running both hands through his hair, he growled and stalked toward the bedroom. “You should go,” he said firmly over his shoulder, then closed the door behind him.

  He didn’t want Carri to see him this way. Raw, stripped
down, exposed for any sort of salt rub. She’d think he was pathetic. Think he was worthless. Because right in this moment, he was.

  Undressing, he slipped into a clean pair of boxers and gym shorts, then sat on the side of the bed and just breathed. Focused on the ins and outs of air moving through his lungs. He could text his mother a warning, but there was no need. Jim—his father—had never followed through with seeing Gail in the past. It was the same hollow threat now.

  As shitty of a human being as Jim was, he wasn’t an idiot. Gail had lived a full life after he’d left them high and dry. She wouldn’t encourage her son to give in to any demands for money or attention, and she wouldn’t let Jim come back into their lives.

  Empty threat . . . that still tore a hole into his gut and took the wind out of his sails simultaneously.

  “Josh?” He jerked his head up and watched, dumbfounded, as Carri walked into the room cautiously. “Hey. Do you want to talk about it?”

  “I thought I told you to go home,” he said woodenly. Not now, not here. Not while I’m still this raw. Please.

  She hesitated, and he saw that the struggle was waging inside her. She even took a step back. But then she shut the bedroom door and came to sit beside him on the bed. Hands clasped in her lap, she simply waited with him, in silence.

  “My sp— Sorry. My father’s been coming around for a while,” he began, when he realized she wasn’t going to do what he asked and leave. “First time, I was a senior in high school. Just signed with LSU, ready to head off to college. And he just . . .” Josh raised his hands, then let them fall. “Shows up. Materializes. I didn’t even recognize him at first.”

  Did that make him a horrible person? That he couldn’t recognize his own father?

  “Of course you didn’t recognize him,” she murmured, but that was all.

  “He congratulated me. He made me feel like . . . I was the only reason he returned. Me. His pride in me. I was eighteen, still riding the high of being wanted by a few big schools, and now the guy that I had alternately loved and hated for most of my life pops up because I’ve done good stuff. He said all the right things, pushed all the right buttons. It was . . . It was heady for a guy who was legally an adult, but not really emotionally one yet.”