First and Ten (21 page)

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Authors: Michel Prince

Tags: #womens fiction, #erotic romance, #sports, #new adult, #interracial adult sex, #african american men, #interracial adult romance, #interracial sexy romance, #interraccial, #interractional sports romance

BOOK: First and Ten
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Advice she probably should have given herself
before she signed up for the MBA program. Not that the education
she’d received didn’t have merit and could help her in any job, but
people think MBA is for stock brokers and Chief Financial Officers.
She’d never be either. But maybe Esme had a point. The fashion, at
times overwhelmed her, but the connection and helping others she
thrived on. Even with her complaints about her phone blowing up at
times, she enjoyed helping and guiding them.

“Maybe I should,” Dani said, coming out of
her thoughts.

“Should what? Castrate the bastard for
leading you on?”

“Huh?” Dani questioned. “The ring is
fake.”

“It looks real to me.” Esme used her fingers
to enlarge the phone on the screen. “Looks pretty real to me.”

Dani covered the screen with her hand and
Esme turned her eyes to her. “What I meant is he didn’t give it to
her.”

“How do you know?”

She didn’t know where she got the confidence,
but Rome was in love with her. Dani would bet her future on it.
“Because I know.”

Chapter Twelve

 


You need to leave my daughter alone.”
The voice of William Albright echoed in Rome’s brain as he saw the
gap opening between Dalton and the guard, Tomlinson. As light burst
through a small crack, Rome’s legs took off as if it weren’t a
burst of sunshine, but a bright green light telling him to go.
Short quick bursts as he powered through the small gap, angling his
right shoulder down and through until he felt the open air on the
side of his face. His eyes were wide as he visualized the field
taking in the goal line eighty yards away with only five defenders
crashing in on him.

The linemen yanked on his jersey and right
arm. His left had the football tucked in tight against his rib
cage. The injury from the day before ached, but he could block it
out. Planting his foot again, he strained against the lineman who
bench pressed more than Rome weighed, but still he didn’t give up.
He never gave up. Even after the whistle blew, he’d keep pushing
and once he no longer had negative resistance he was free.
Extending his right arm, he blocked Marcum who ran at him full
speed, then stumbled and tripped. No contact his ass.

With a turn and cut, he changed his route to
the end zone shaking the safeties who’d stayed left. They angled
themselves to intercept him, but he knew once they committed he
only needed to juke left again and he was gone.

“What the hell kinda shit was that?” Coach
Trundell, the defensive head coach, howled from the sideline. “This
son-of-a-bitch just burnt you on a goddamn first and ten.”

The defense fell into a huddle, not that it
helped with keeping the ass reaming from being public.

“Where the fuck are my captains? The
motherfucking guy selling hot dogs in the third tier could see it
was going to be a run play.” The fact that there were no hot dog
vendors or a third tier since they were on the practice field
aside, Rome had to agree it was a pretty obvious play. “Why the
hell did you have them set up in three-four? Don’t answer me.
That’s a rhetorical fucking question because you don’t do that when
Jerome Speed is hanging out in the damn backfield. Hell, having
Jerome Speed run on a first and ten is as likely as freezing your
balls off mid-January if any of you ass hats could actually earn us
a bid to the fucking playoffs with home field advantage.”

The rant continued for about ten minutes
before Coach Trundell was satisfied enough to set up for another
challenge. In that time Rome’s rage burned. Having down time wasn’t
what he needed to settle himself. Running, sprinting, lifting,
hitting. Especially hitting, that’s what would bring him back to
center so he could address the issue at hand, but his wasn’t a
position that got to block a lot and this was the no contact OTAs.
Even with the new quarterback opening up the possibility for a
throwing game. His job was and always would be the first down.

“Ain’t happening again,” Marcum challenged.
“You aren’t as fast as they say you are.”

“I’ll beat you every time,” Rome assured.

“Wasn’t my forty time faster?”

“Could be.” Rome snapped his chin strap. “But
I run faster scared than you ever could mad.”

Ten reps in a row and found his way to the
water. Squeezing the bottle so the water rushed into his mouth, he
swallowed once, then spit as the image of Candace with a ring on
her finger shined in his mind. Right next to it was an image of
Dani and him. Side by side with a question about Dani being a fool
and worse yet, in the eyes of her father that she came from fools.
Could he save her from a broken heart? No, no he couldn’t, for when
you scrolled down you found the nail in Rome’s coffin. Dani,
disheveled with empty glasses, half eaten appetizers, and her
looking glassy eyed.

He told Rome in no uncertain terms until he
was out of the tabloids, his daughter was off limits. He needed to
walk away and not darken his door again. Mr. Albright assured him
he’d discuss it with Danika. This was for her best interest as she
entered the business world. The last thing a boss wanted was a girl
who couldn’t handle a break up and would be in a bar already drunk
by mid afternoon.

What pushed Rome to rage was Candi and her
fucking games. This one was too far and her phone was no longer in
service, which meant he’d have to hunt her down and until the
weekend, he didn’t have the time to play circle the city looking
for a ho. He hadn’t saved her mother’s number or he’d try to call
her.

“Give me some,” Dalton said as he stood
drenched in sweat holding his helmet by the facemask.

“I ain’t that easy,” Rome joked as he held
the water bottle out away from his body. “Buy me dinner first.”

“That’s not what I heard,” Guthry said with
his thick Southern drawl as he approached only to get a glare from
both men.

“Rook, at what point did you get asked to
come to the big boys table?” Dalton asked the rookie quarterback.
“This is man speak.”

“Look.” Guthry held his hands up in
surrender. “I may be new here, but I grew up on football. All
through high school and college all I’ve ever heard about you was
paternity suits.”

“I won a few rushing titles and a national
championship,” Rome challenged.

“And there were the All-Star games,” Dalton
pointed out. “Rookie of the year. Something you’ll be hard pressed
to earn.”

“True that.” Rome pushed up on his toes, then
back down to help stretch his calves as well as emphasize his
accomplishments. “Are you watching ESPN or TMZ? One of them is for
children growing up on football.”

“I know I saw the tweet about your girls
today. A rich socialite slumming as you finally step up and marry
your kid’s mother.”

Dalton punched his fist into his hand. “I
love when they offer themselves up on a platter, don’t you,
Rome?”

“It does brighten my day.” Rome stepped
forward and Guthry found he was backing up into a fence. “Good luck
on the next series. Something tells me you’re gonna learn there’s a
lotta shit you can run your mouth about. And a few things you
shouldn’t.”

With that, Rome and Dalton went in search of
Marcum. He owed Rome anyway. Wasn’t the first time a rookie QB
would see daylight. Sadly, it probably wouldn’t be the last. A
little wheeling and dealing and it would be worth it.

“Adrian,” Rome called as Dalton and Tomlinson
stood behind him. “You still want to run to the left?”

“My right?” He smiled back.

“Guthry needs to learn about
brotherhood.”

“Does he now? And you’re all about me being
the teacher.”

“How many bubble players you got over there?”
Rome questioned, not about to get a man cut. Adrian had immunity.
So did all involved. They’d be fined, but Rome would happily pay.
“Look, I’m just saying there may just happen to be a little
weakness on the left side once and I know when you get going,
sometimes it’s hard to stop.”

“What’s in it for me?”

“Besides a sack outside of regular season?”
Rome raised his eyebrow. “I’ll pay your fine.”

“Will you now?” Adrian pursed his lips at
him. “Because Coach isn’t happy with how much contact I’ve had this
week.”

Rome extended his hand and Adrian clutched it
before pulling him in and bumping chests. “My word’s my bond.”

“Alright yo, but I can’t keep cleaning up
offense’s messes.”

It took three snaps to finally have a pass
play set up and in motion. Rome made sure to find Adrian and give
him a nod before Guthry started his snap count. Tapping Dalton’s
back three times while he stood in his three-point stance. He kept
his head facing forward, but Rome heard him say brotherhood. When
Guthry yelled
hut-hut
, Dalton drove left as if there were
someone there to block and with Tomlinson charging so far right he
ended up blocking the center, Yelsvinick, in the process. He stood
up and watched as Adrian took the edge like he was on rails curving
through the gap created by the two linemen and wrapping up Guthry,
who still had the football in his hand. Since the only padding they
had was their helmet, Marcum wrapping Guthry in a tight hug at full
speed and had him tumbling backwards making the sideline ooh in
unison. It was glorious and Rome basked in his triumph for the ten
seconds allotted before Coach Marshall came over with a tirade. The
recognition on Guthry’s face as he struggled to get up was worth
every penny.

“What are you jackasses playing at? Either I
should cut you for being the worst blocking O-line in the league or
for trying to take out your QB two months before the damn season
starts.”

Did he just say your QB? Guthry was a damn
back up. He should be. Rome looked over at the red jersey wearing
QBs standing off to the side. Matt Bishop, their starting QB for
the last five years, was putting on a brave face. They couldn’t
actually be thinking about bumping him to the second string. Rome
thought they were just letting Guthry get reps to see if he could
actually do it.

“And you,” Coach Marshall spit as he stood in
Rome’s face, “don’t think I didn’t notice you taking in the show.
You practically had a bag of popcorn when Marcum ran past you,
which makes me think you’re the ring leader of this whole little
lesson in what? What did the rookie do? You think I don’t know a
lesson when I see it?”

Coach Marshall’s nostrils flared. A former
lineman himself, he stood over Rome by three inches and Rome saw
the anger in his gray eyes. The exposed parts of his skin had
already tanned to a deep bronze from the days out in the sun for
practice.

“Nothing huh,” Coach grumbled. “Not saying a
word. Probably for the best. Now how about you line up and show me
a reason to keep you on this team while I tally up your fines.”

“You got it, Coach.”

After practice, Rome went in search of Coach
Marshall. He was a captain and crossed lines. If nothing else, he’d
have to own up to his mistake.

“Hey, Coach, you got a minute?” Rome asked as
he knocked on the open door to Coach Marshall’s office. It was a
rhetorical question since the open door was Coach’s sign that he
was available. Just because he was reviewing practice film with a
sandwich in front of him didn’t mean he wouldn’t talk.

“What do you need, Speed?”

“Any fines from the light up on Guthry need
to come to me.”

“I know, they’re already filed.” Coach
Marshall took a bite of his sandwich and didn’t look away from the
screen.

“Okay, I just didn’t want Marcum to get in
trouble.”

“He’s been moved to the bubble.”

“What?” Rome questioned. Shit, the last thing
he needed to do was cost a man a job because of his stupid gossip
crap. “Guthry fell after that love tap. It wasn’t as hard as it
seemed.”

“Well if anyone knows about a love tap it
would be the Speed Demon of Love.”

“Jesus Christ,” Rome spat.

“I know everything,” Coach said and finally
turned around. “Close the door.”

Rome did and then crossed the room to the
cushioned chair across from Coach Marshall. Coach paused the
playback on his TV and passed Rome the other half of his
sandwich.

“You get lunch before you headed up
here?”

“No,” Rome said as he took the sandwich.
“Thanks.”

“I’m all for teaching lessons. Trust me, but
we’re in a no contact time with only helmets to protect us. I’m
assuming Marcum’s love tap from earlier this week was an accident
too.”

Rome adjusted in his chair, then leaned his
elbows on his knees.

“I’m assuming that’s how you knew you could
get him to do something against the rules.”

“He’s a three time All-Pro. Most of the
defense is new.”

“That’s why I can’t have him breaking rules.
He does it and those damn puppies follow right behind him, then
next thing you know we’ve got half our offense on Bucky’s short
list.” Coach took a swig of his sports drink, then brought his
hands together. “What you do in the off season isn’t my concern.
Shit, I understand the partying, women, all good, but I can’t have
a member of my team distracted by the extracurricular
activities.”

“Understood,” Rome said humbly. “I’m trying
to figure it out and get it settled.”

“Good, because William Albright’s a whale in
this town. At one point he even considered buying the team. Messing
with his daughter, probably wasn’t the best idea.”

“She’s not the problem,” Rome said
defensively.

“Isn’t she?”

“No, the media isn’t because of her.”

“Last I checked it’s your fiancée.”

“I’ve never asked a woman to marry me,” Rome
stated. “And if I ever do, Candace Powell would be the last one I’d
choose.”

“Too bad, you make a good looking
family.”

“All that glitters isn’t gold.”

“And the golden daughter? What about her?” he
asked. “Another good choice.”

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