Third and Long: A Sports Romance (29 page)

“What is this?” I ask.

“Honey, your dad thought I should come to the game, so we could talk. You’ve been awfully confused the past couple of days,” she says.

She’s barely wearing anything, a long red Lions shirt doubles as a dress. I’ll admit she’s hot, but she’s still not my girl.

“Katerina. It’s over,” I say, turning to go.

She grabs my hand.

“Logan we need to talk. You owe me that,” she says.

Personally, I don’t think I owe her anything. “This isn’t the time Katerina.”

“I’ll wait for you on the sidelines honey. They gave me permission,” she says.

“Are you fucking—”

Before I yell, I turn and run off to the locker room. I can’t fucking believe this! I have a game to win and girl to marry and my dad is trying to sabotage both.

 

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Tamber

Down on the field Logan throws another incomplete pass. During half time, we hoped he’d get his head right and come out throwing laser beams. That didn’t happen apparently. This time he threw the ball over Cam because LSU’s cornerback was rushing up on the route, so he was trying to avoid an interception, or so Gwen says. My man is still unfocused. Something is going on with him.

“Get your man under control!” Gwen yells at me over the roaring crowd.

I thought the student section at our stadium in Rome was loud. It doesn’t even compare to the fans in Louisiana. The place is absolutely deafening.

“If I knew how, I would!” I yell back at Gwen. I’m serious. As his wife I’m going to have to be there for him, yet up here in the stands what can I do? It’s so damn weird being this close to him and yet so far. When he makes it to the pros, this is going to be my life every Sunday in the fall and winter.

“You better do something because he’s making my man look bad!” Gwen yells.

“Your man?” I look at her with all the skepticism I can muster for a girl who changes her mind every day.

Gwen smiles her sly, mischievous smile. “We’ve been talking.”

“About what?” I ask feeling bad for Cam. That poor boy is going to be led around by his cock for the rest of his life. They must have hooked up last night given the way they were making eyes at each other in the bar.

“About settling down girl. Goddamn. I hate to say it, but you and Logan have inspired me,” she says.

“Bullshit.”

“Girl, sometimes you got to take a risk.”

Take the risk.

The end of the third quarter rolls around and the Lions come off the field with a sour look on their face. They all look to Logan for leadership, but Logan has a million things on his mind. I know he does. I’ve been there for every choice he’s made these past few weeks.

No one on the team or the media can possibly understand the weight on his shoulders. Gwen’s words echo in my mind.

Take the risk.

I leap up from my seat. Gwen tries to pull me down, but I don’t stop because I’m running mad, and when I run mad, I don’t stop until either my muscles can’t go anymore or I stop feeling mad.

I’m mad at a lot of things: Logan’s shitty parents, Katerina’s shitty interview, the media’s shitty fascination with every single mistake that my man makes. My muscles kick into high gear as I run mad down the steps of the stadium. I see security around the fence that blocks me from the the players, and I don’t even care.

They see me coming and they can’t stop me. I can still hear Gwen screaming in my ear like I’m a mad woman.

And she’s right. I’m fucking mad because it is about fucking time that the world knows that Logan Oliver III and Tamber Long love each other. Every time I turn on the TV, I shouldn’t have to see another story about Logan and Katerina. I should see stories about college stud Logan getting ready to marry the workaholic from Eden with the cool app idea.

“Hey you can’t!…” a security guard says as I vault over his face. I hearken back to my track and field days in high school, planting my foot and leaping over the three hundred pound guy.

It hurts when I land ten feet down, but I tuck and roll and avoid too much pressure. A goddamn waterboy tries to tackle me, so I juke him like I’m a running back. All I need is for Logan to turn around, but he’s busy talking to his Coach.

Half the stadium cheers for me while the other half boos me. The players on the field can’t see what is happening. Seconds later security catches wind and starts converging on me. It doesn’t matter because I’m running too fast, too mad to be caught.

Cam sees me. I yell at him. He taps Logan on the shoulder. My man turns around. Only to see me get tackled to the ground.

“Get the fuck offa me!” I scream.

“On the ground!” the security guard yells.

My legs are still pumping. I’m still fighting to get to my man.

“Hey, hey, hey! Get off her,” Logan yells.

Before I know it, I’m swept up by my man. He’s all sweaty and smelly and masculine as all hell. However there’s a thick shield of pads between us. I want to tear off his clothes right here on the field and make rough, dirty love to him.

“What are you doing Tam? Jesus Christ!” he says with the biggest smile on his face.

“Brightening your day,” I say, kissing his dirt covered face.

Security is standing around giving me the eye, like I’m some nut job stalker. Okay it does look like that, I’ll admit.

“No really this is crazy. You can’t be down here,” he says.

“And you need to play better, so I guess we both have things we can fix,” I say.

“Damn girl,” he says. “That’s cold.”

The rest of his team starts to gather around us. His coach and some sideline reporters come up. Then a young blonde thing pushes through everyone with a mean look on her face. I know exactly who it is, but I can’t figure out how the hell she got here. Logan puts me down, and temporarily, I’m not sure who to be mad at.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I ask Katerina Prescott as she pushes through the group of people gathered around Logan and me.

“Listen bitch. I’ve had about enough of you ruining my life,” Katerina says charging toward me.

“Your life? I’m the one engaged here,” I say, flashing my ring. “Face it bitch. You lost.”

Echoing Gwen’s statement feels good.

“No I didn’t lose. My engagement to Logan is the only thing keeping my father from buying Oliver Oil. You lose,” she says.

I look to Logan. He shrugs. It’s the first we’re both hearing of this then.

“What are you talking about?” Logan asks.

“Oh your father didn’t tell you that little detail?” Katerina asks.

Security is trying to move us off the field, but Logan’s teammates move in to protect us, to let us finish our conversation. They know that Logan won’t be able to concentrate with this hanging over his shoulders. They also probably want to see a cat fight to be honest.

“None of that matters—”

Katerina tries to cut Logan off with a curt smile, but I am not about to sit here and take shit from the YouTube fashion blogger from New York that thinks she can tell a couple of Texans how to do business.

“No listen. We’re marrying for love. You crawl back to whatever hole you came from in New York. Tell your father he can force some other asshole to marry his bitch of a daughter.”

“Don’t you talk to me like that you bitch,” Katerina says. For a second, I think she’s going to attack me.

“I won’t be disrespected,” I say taking a step toward her, getting in her face. I’m not scared. “I’ve lived my whole life worried about people like you. People that can make life miserable for people like me. Not any more. I’ve got my man, and my man has me, and there’s nothing we can’t accomplish together.”

“Damn!” Logan says squeezing my hand so tight it nearly falls off.

“You’ll regret this,“ Katerina says.

“And you’ll still be single.”

“Damn!” every player gathered around us says. A couple of Logan’s teammates hoist me up on their shoulders and indicate to security that they need to take Katerina away.

When Coach Ainsworth gives the same order, the LSU security team complies. Katerina is led back into the tunnel kicking and screaming. I swear, I see a smile spread across Coach Ainsworth’s face. I’ll have to ask Logan about that later.

His teammates set me down on the bench in between a couple of hulking defensive players. Logan comes over to give me a kiss.

“Go win this game now will you?” I ask.

“Sounds like a plan,” he says.

 

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Logan

Victory. I didn’t throw a single incompletion the rest of the game. I hope my dad was watching every last pass. After the game, after I shower, there’s nothing I want more than to be with Tamber. Interview first. The media. My enemy. The group of fuckheads that’s been slinging shit at me for the past month. I get my best duds on and our handlers call my number to speak.

When I go up on stage there’s a single microphone routed to all the reporters who want to ask me their asinine questions. I take a seat and look out at the crowd of flashing bulbs. Then I see her. Tamber. She’s sitting right up front. Somehow she got in there. I suspect Coach might have had something to do with it. Tamber smiles and blows me a kiss. I feel invincible.

Then the questions come. An onslaught.

“Logan, did you ever think you were going to lose this game?” one guy asks.

“Actually yeah, going into half-time, it wasn’t looking good. They’re a very good team. LSU. Very good,” I say, my eyes lingering on Tamber’s gorgeous mocha hair and cute smile. I want nothing more than for her to get up and shake that cute little ass at me and lead me back to her bedroom. I’m so jacked up on adrenaline right now, I feel like I’d tear her in two, and she’d love every minute of it.

“So what made you throw that ball? Most analysts will say you were crazy to throw that. I mean your team was on their own twenty yard line. Conventional wisdom would say you play it safe and punt,” another reporter says.

“My completion rate was a hundred percent in the fourth quarter,” I say.

“Sure, but twenty yards? You would have been right to play it safe,” the reporter repeats his question.

You mean why did I go for it on third and long?” I ask. I look at Tamber and smile. She smiles back.

“Right. Seems risky,” the reporter says.

“It worked. Didn’t it?”

The whole room laughs. It did work. We won. I threw the riskiest pass of my career on third and long and it paid off. Everything that Tamber said to me after the third quarter reminded me who I am, and why they used to call me the number one draft pick.

I’m not at the mercy of my father. I’m not a stooge of the paparazzi. I’m the future husband of Tamber Long.

“Given what they say about your character are you still declaring for the draft?” another reporter asks.

“I don’t have any other choice,” Logan says.

“Sorry I’m not sure what you mean?” the guy asks, furiously writing down everything that I say.

“Well my dad just disowned me, so…”

“Are you saying you’re not inheriting billions anymore?” he asks.

“That’s what it seems like. I’m playing for my life out here.”

“Is this related to those character concerns the media is talking about?” the reporter asks.

I have to laugh. What a coward. I decide to call him on it.

“You mean that you’re talking about? You’re a member of the media aren’t you?” I ask.

He looks baffled.

“But let me answer your question. My father disinherited me because he doesn’t want me to play football. He wants to make all of my life choices for me.”

“Can you tell us anything about that scuffle on the field? Does Logan Oliver have women fighting over him?” the first reporter asks.

“Yes was that New York socialite Katerina Prescott on the field?” another reporter adds.

“That’s who my father wants me to marry yes,” I say.

“And you don’t? How can that be?” A bunch of reporters start talking amongst themselves. They’re all thirsty for a girl like Katerina, but there’s only one woman for me.

“I don’t want to marry her. Someone else has already stolen my heart,” I say.

“And who would that be?” a reporter asks.

“Tamber Long. Right there,” I say pointing to her. She blushes like crazy. “The love of my life. Come on up here babe.”

An uproar goes through the room as the reporters try to be the first to break this news on their phones. Security starts to crowd around Tamber, and I tell them to bring her up here. Fortunately they allow it.

She takes the stage and grabs my hand, sitting down next to me. I can feel the nervous, anxious energy flowing through body, but when I wrap my arm around her, she seems to calm down. I ask her if she’d like to say anything.

“Hey listen up everyone,” she says. I realize in that moment that she’s probably been bottling up this speech for a while now, waiting for her chance to set the record straight.

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