Hook Up (A Bad Boy Sports Romance) (14 page)

“
Y
’all did what
?” I asked the same question three times because I was having a hard time accepting Pat and Tre’s answer.

It was the Sunday after Thanksgiving. The plan was for me to meet them at the private charter terminal at El Paso International. I got there an hour early, hoping that on the off chance the plane arrived before schedule, I’d have a little time with Jo before Pat, Tre and I flew back to Baton Rouge. The plan was simple enough, I thought. Go to airport, see Jo at airport, put Jo in cab to my parents’ house for her things, then fly back to Louisiana.

Apparently, Pat didn’t do simple.

Pat had a flight attendant come to collect me from the terminal. She brought me onto the plane.

Jo wasn’t on the plane.

They left Jo in Las Vegas.

“Somebody better have an explanation for me about how this happened and why I’m only finding out about it now.”

“It’s a very simple explanation, bud.”

I took a seat and fastened my seatbelts. “Which is?”

“Artist authentication. Do you know what that is?”

“Of course I don’t. What the hell is it?”

“For my dad’s art dealer, it’s where a new artist like Jo verifies she is the true originator of a piece by reproducing it while under supervision.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“The art dealer has to see her create another one of the paintings.”

“So why didn’t you just say that?” Pat shrugged. “Wait a second. You left Jo in Vegas…where exactly?”

“She’s perfectly safe. She’s staying at a suite in my old man’s hotel.”

“With the art dealer?”

“Of course not. The art dealer has her own suite.”

I pulled out my cell phone, wondering why Jo didn’t mention it while we were texting back and forth over the weekend. The short message I sent to her now read,

‘Are you okay? When are you leaving Vegas?’

There wasn’t time to wait for a response as the flight attendant came over and asked us to turn off our electronic devices for takeoff.

“How long does she have to stay out there?”

“That all depends.”

“On what?”

“The time it takes her to finish the painting. Probably a week or two.”

“You’d better hope nothing happens to her, Pat, or it’s your ass I’ll come after.”

“There’s no need to resort to threats…particularly ones against my orifices. She’ll be fine. No one will let a soul touch a hair on her gorgeous head. Jo will be lucky to see the hallway outside her suite, let alone leave her hotel. As soon as my dad realized she’s younger than my sister, he stationed two guards outside her room to keep her safe.”

“Why?”

“My father protects his interests.”

“And that means what exactly?”

“Relax, Chris. The old guy bought the paintings she took with her, and at the agreed upon price. He also pre-ordered another eight, to be delivered one per month. Plus the one she’ll do to prove she’s the real deal. Believe me, buddy. She’s safe and has a promising future.”

Tre leaned forward in his seat across the aisle to look me in the eye. “It’s one hell of a hookup, son. Your girl has hit the big times.”

“You two slackers better make sure she gets back to Texas in one piece.”

I needed a drink.

Once the plane took off and hit cruising altitude, one of the two flight attendants came around with flutes of champagne. I told them I wanted whiskey. I didn’t enjoy flying in the first place, and knowing Jo was effectively on her own out there got me wound up and anxious. The flight was less than ninety minutes, but hell, it felt like forever. All I wanted to do was get a hold of Jo, hear her voice and make sure she was all right.

That didn’t happen.

The text I got back from her read,

‘Doing fine, but crazy busy. I have to make this count. Miss you. Will message you again soon.’

That was it.

Aware of how big the stakes were for her, I didn’t reply. I needed to let her have this time, the same way she had done for me all semester long. She deserved that much. I got my head back in the game at football practice to be ready for the SEC championship game, and went back to busting my ass preparing for final exams and finishing course project work.

* * *

T
he SEC Championship Game
was here. We were all ready to shine. Our team captain, Slade was at the top of his game, and with his charisma and natural leadership, he made the rest of us fall in line. We knew we had what it took to win. Every player could taste it. Our domination of this season promised to lead us all to big things, so this game was where we needed to drive it on home. The head coach gave us a lengthy dose of pre-game inspiration, and soon we were heading through the tunnel into the edge of the stands, looking out at the tens of thousands of fans who had come out to see us play as we waited for the announcer to kick things off.

I wished Jo could have been here to see it all come together.

She was the only one missing today.

My father had pulled out all the stops and flew my whole family out early this morning to see me play. I was so proud to see them up in the stands. They were all wearing my team colors, right down to Chandler in his fleece game day pants set. Pat made it possible for me to make them out in the massive crowd where everyone else seemed to meld together. He was seated in their row with his girls on one side, and my family on the other. I shook my head. Only Pat would do something that crazy.

The kid was in his all-white three-piece suite, no less, and flying a ridiculously large Texas flag that blocked out half the row when he raised it. It was a good thing the kid could hold his own in the stands. Pat must have had the thing custom made. The white section at the top right-hand side read
‘Don’t Mess with Texas Cornerback Chris’
. I was so flattered, right up until he lowered it and raised an identically large Louisiana flag which read ‘
Go Tre! Bayou Running Back Pride
.’ I reckoned he had a flag done up for each player on our team. That made me smile.

The announcer got the game underway, and soon we kicked off. As a cornerback, my eyes were honed in on defending against each pass offense and tackling the hell out of our opponents’ defensive line. I had to be quick, strong, flexible and ready for anything. Anticipating Slade was my biggest job, but we had executed so many plays together over our college career, we worked as a unit. He could tilt his head a certain way and I’d know whether he wanted me to disrupt a pass route, execute a block shedding move or cover a different zone. Today was no different. We had a game to win. Nothing would stop each and every one of us from pulling our weight.

Our opponents were just as ready for us, and had us fighting for every inch we gained on them. We would score, then they would inch up past us, and that would get us hungry to get back in the lead all over again. That’s how it went all the way through. The defense was solid on both sides. That meant we had to dig deep if we wanted to ensure the final score was in our favor.

The second half was tight. Slade was playing hard, but our opponents were gunning for him. He got sacked three times in a matter of minutes. Damn, it was brutal to watch these massive meatheads pancake him over and over again. We got way too close to the end of the game with the opposing team in the lead. To win, the only chance we had was to make the touchdown plus get an extra point. It wasn’t going to be easy either, not now that every team in the SEC knew to anticipate Slade doing his usual run and gun play.

That couldn’t cut it this time.

Our opponents cornered our asses and gave us no room to breathe, let alone to move or make passes. That was when Slade gave me a head nod I wasn’t expecting. He was about to step out of the limelight and pass the ball to Evan. I shook my head. Evan was good, and fast too, but that play was a longshot. When he started going deep, we all knew what we had to do. We were mowing down players, grabbing jerseys, containing the meatheads in our zones, and shutting down the opposing team one by one to give Evan a chance at a touchdown.

I never saw Evan run so fast. The man was flying, protecting that ball like it was a newborn. He gave it everything he had, and from my vantage point, I could tell when the opposition realized there was no stopping him anymore. Their faces froze in painful winces of despair and defeat when he made a massive ballet-like leap for the touchdown.

We did it!

The extra point was executed with ease and the SEC Championship was ours. The deafening shouts from the stadium stands were overwhelming. Then the confetti dropped in our colors and bathed us in a blizzard of victory. We all ran up to Evan and hiked him up on our shoulders to celebrate. Fans, coaches, family, NFL agents and the media swarmed us now.

Agents from the Arizona Cardinals, Dallas Cowboys and Houston Texans approached me with their cards. They all mentioned that they hoped to do a meet and greet with me at the regional combines and at Pro Day in the spring. My head was nodding like a bobblehead for sure. It meant I had made an impression with the right people and was on their radar.

There wasn’t room to escape the madness until the interviews were wrapping up and we finally got to head back to the locker room. We continued the revelry in there as we changed out of our gear and listened to the head coach give his victory speech with grit in his voice and tears in his eyes. It sure felt good to make the man proud after he had worked his ass off to prepare us and get us here.

Pat and my parents were planning to meet up with us at the celebratory street party planned near the campus, so I got dressed and was planning to drive in Tre’s car with Clive Allen, one of our tight end teammates. Slade seemed like he would sneak off the way he’d done so many times this season, but Tre and Mo saw him, then hollered out to Chad and Evan, and pretty soon the team was around him.

“This ain’t the night to try and sneak off,” Tre said.

“We’re not having it,” Mo added. “No, sir. We won as a team and we’re gonna party like a fucking team!”

We all went crazy again, until Evan raised his hands and shouted, “That’s right. We just won the SEC Championship. It is time to throw down, son.”

“Dammit all right let’s do this!” Slade shouted, leading the herd.

“Evan man,” I called out. “I take back everything I used to say about being tired of you making bullshit, half-cocked, hair-brained plays and calling it football.”

He doubled over laughing. “At least you told me that to my face, Texas.”

I patted him on the shoulder. “That’s the only way, son.”

“You ready, man?” Tre asked me before we left. “This party will be huge, son. Pat’s got us all hooked up for afterward too.”

“As long as we don’t end up at the Blue Bayou, I’m game.”

“Nah. We can’t actually go back there…”

I was relieved to hear that, but I had to ask. “Why?”

He hesitated. I knew it had to be bad. “Uh…I kinda got busted a few weeks ago. The cops let me off with a warning, though, so I won’t have a record.”

“Holy fuck, man. You’re lucky, or the coaches would be on your ass. You and Pat need to stay the hell away from those places.”

“Yeah, well I’m not supposed to be within two hundred feet of the Blue Bayou anymore…or any Louisiana strip joint. But it’ll get lifted after I turn twenty-one, I hope.”

Pursing my lips, I said nothing.

The bunch of us headed to our cars and drove to the festivities. Tre’s Dodge Avenger was packed by the time I made it there. I rode with Clive so we could all meet in a decent spot. The place was a zoo. There were thousands of people taking up every square foot on each side of the road. Cops came to do crowd control and had cordoned off the main street to the frat house. We ended up having to park a mile up the road and walk in to meet up. After some navigating through the masses, we made it to the rest of the big group. Pat stood out like a sore thumb in his formal wear, which was still white as the driven snow. He hugged Tre and me, then he pulled me aside, saying he wanted to inform me of something. Alarm bells went off instantly. This had to be about Jo in Vegas.

“What the hell happened, Pat?” I felt a light tap on my shoulder, but was so honed in on Pat’s news that I brushed off the person’s hands, until I heard the voice.

“Well if it ain’t cornerback Chris, throwing his weight around.”

I froze for a split second before spinning around.

“Jo! Christ almighty.” She was up in my arms with her hands around my neck and her legs wrapped tight around my hips. “I had no idea…when did you get back?”

“You think I’d miss this day for anything? Not a chance, Texas.”

Everyone around us disappeared just then. She crashed her lips onto mine and my hand was up in her hair, taking her mouth in a kiss that said everything. After who knows how long, she pulled off and dropped her legs back to the ground. Someone put beers into our free hands, then Jo dragged me off several blocks because she wanted to talk.

We got to a Ford Escape and she stopped beside it, clicking the doors with her remote to unlock it.