Hardball: A Sports Romance (3 page)

He had a total of twenty missed phone calls, numerous messages on social media, and even more text messages after his “date” with Arabella on Friday night. Chance let out a disappointed sigh as he thumbed through the various messages. It was a damn shame, he thought moodily, because some of the women were hot and wanting him. Arabella had made it clear that they were never going to sleep together, and with Robert’s threat of terminating his contract if he was spotted with another woman, he had no other choice but to ignore them. While the media had soared away with speculation about his outing with Arabella, it had also increased the female attention. And Chance had no idea how much longer he could take it.

    Dropping his phone carelessly into his bag, Chance grabbed his helmet to head to the football field. This week was their last days of practice before the first opening season game, and it also meant that camera crews would be everywhere filming them. And Robert had already drilled into him to not comment on his new “relationship” until after the game on Sunday evening.

    He took the back way to the field to avoid the press that was congregated around the locker rooms. Liam looked up from stretching out his legs as Chance approached him with a scowl.

    “So,” Liam said, grinning. “I heard that your “date” went well Friday night. Congratulations, bro. It’s all over the news.”

    “I don’t understand why everyone is so fascinated about my love life,” he grumbled out. “Everybody on this team has sex with women and their girlfriends and wives. Why is it so different for me?”

   “True, but not as frequently as you do. You happen to be a quarterback to, so your standards are a bit higher than the rest of us.”

   “Great. That’s what I want to hear.”

   They glanced over to where a group of camera men were interviewing Coach Adams. A couple of flashes from other news sites added to Chance’s headache. Sighing in irritation, Chance slipped on his helmet, and then presented them his back while they waited for Coach Adams to finish his usual talk with the press.

   “How was your night out with Arabella in all seriousness?” Liam asked, curiously.

     Just the mention of Arabella’s name made his stomach twist in angry knots. Not with her directly, but with the situation they both found themselves in. Any feelings he had for Arabella this point were pure attraction and frustration that she didn’t seem a bit flattered to be around him.

    Chance jerked his shoulders. “Fine, I guess. We barely talked at the restaurant, and she told me to take her home right afterwards.”

    He turned to look at Liam then as they continued to stretch out.

    “Why are you asking?”

    “Just saying the woman is hot is all,” Liam said, leaning to the side to stretch out his right leg. “I would be doing everything I could to get her in my bed.”

    A peculiar sensation filled Chance’s stomach at Liam’s words. It took all of Chance’s strength to not bite out a reply.

    “She’s not into hooking up,” he said. “Believe me. I tried to suggest that it wouldn’t hurt the image, but I think Robert has it drilled into her head that it’s supposed to look a certain way to the press.”

    “You’re probably right,” Liam said. “Still, I’d keep an eye on her at all times. Especially with the amount of attention this is going to get. You know how it is when people are in the spotlight.”

     He did know. It mean attracting attention from strangers all over the world, and there was a very vulnerable air about Arabella even though she carried herself strongly in public. He couldn’t decipher it exactly, but Liam was right. Arabella would be thrusted out into the spotlight whether she liked it or not.

    And  it was because of his actions that they were both in this mess.

   Avoiding the cameras turned out to be harder than Chance had hoped throughout practice. Everywhere he turned, a microphone was shoved into his face with an over eager reporter hoping that they would be the first one to break the news of who Arabella was. In a thoroughly sour mood, Chance stalked out of the locker rooms to only find himself facing a cheerful Robert.

    “You and Arabella have officially captivated the fan’s attention,” he informed Chance with a pleased grin.

    “Awesome,” Chance said, darkly.  “I’m glad this publicity stunt is working out for everybody.”

    Robert’s grin faded a bit at that. “It would do you good to remember that this is to save your reputation as a talented quarterback. Other teams would’ve booted your ass out of here.”

    A threat dripped off those words. Chance clenched his teeth as he pushed by Robert to continue down the hallway to the parking lot. 

   “I meant that it’s working out for everybody besides for Arabella,” he said. 

    And himself too. Thanks to this publicity stunt, he wouldn’t be able to get laid until February unless he convinced Arabella otherwise.

     Thankfully, the camera crews were still at the football fields sideline, or questioning other athletes about the game on Sunday. Chance strode across the parking lot in the direction of his car when he spotted Arabella walking fast in the same direction.

     She paused when she caught sight of Chance.

    “It’s pretty crazy out there on the field,” she commented.

    “Annoying is what it is.”

     They stood in front of each other awkwardly for a moment before Arabella broke it in a tentative voice. “Do you know what we are supposed to do now? Robert has been busy with the cameras all day and phone calls.”

    “We aren’t supposed to talk to the press,” Chance said. “And you’ve got a sideline ticket for the game on Sunday.”

    Her face fell at that. “I have to go with you this weekend?”

    “I feel just as enthused about it as well,” Chance said, wryly. “Why? Do you have somewhere important to be on Sunday?”

     “If I did, it’s none of your business,” Arabella replied, tightly.

     That same peculiar sensation filled Chance again. It never occurred to him the other week that Arabella could have been seeing someone else before their arrangement. And it didn’t sit well with him either.

     “If I can’t have a girlfriend, you can’t have a boyfriend during this,” he said.

     “Is that so?” Arabella asked, a spark of anger flashing in her eyes. “The last I checked, it’s your reputation that needs repaired to save you from getting booted out. My reputation isn’t the one on the line here. Literally.”

    His temper soared at that. Shifting his duffle back so that it rested on his back, Chance took two large steps forward to minimize the gap between them. Arabella’s eyes widened drastically at the move.

    “What are you doing?” She squeaked out.

    “If there’s one thing that I’m good at is winning people over,” Chance drawled out, thoroughly enjoying the fight drain from Arabella’s face.  “The last time I checked, your trailer is hitched to mine until February at the latest.”

    “That’s if you go to the Super Bowl.”

    “You are hitched to me until February,” he continued on confidently. “So, you can either play little coy games with me, and lose them every single time. Or, we can make this all easier on ourselves like you said on Friday night.”

    Arabella took a step backwards to put some space between them.

    “How do you suggest that we make it easier on ourselves?”

    “For one, you can actually be a girlfriend, and actually sleep with me. I’m giving up a lot more than what you think I am.”

    “Yeah, sure,” she said, letting out a sarcastic laugh. “That’s a lot to give up.”

    He opened his mouth to reply, but a flash of a camera at the end of the parking lot interrupted him. Chance glanced over his shoulder to see a couple of cameras pointed in their direction. A devious idea went through his head.

    “You know what Robert said, right?”

    Arabella stared at him warily. “About what?”

    “About us appearing to be in love.”

    “I remember.”

    “Well, good, because I think we owe the camera’s a kiss.”

    He didn’t give her a chance to argue, or to back away. Chance hooked his fingers on the belt lops of her jeans, tugging her into him so fast that Arabella had to use his chest to catch her balance. He pressed his lips against hers, muffling her protests.

    And to Chance’s dismay and annoyance, he found that Arabella’s lips on his own felt entirely too good to ignore.

She tried her best to forget about the kiss that had unfortunately stolen the breath right out of her lungs because it was that good. Shoving it from her mind proved to be a difficult task given that pictures of Chance kissing her were spread out on every news and gossip site. The selfish and arrogant man had taken advantage of the moment, and now it was plastered everywhere for Arabella to relive.

    And the cameras never seemed to following the both of them now.

    It was a downright miracle that Arabella had been able to hunker down in the office to do work without the threat of someone throwing a microphone into her face. Robert had yet to decide when it would be best for them to talk to the media, but he also offered little when Arabella asked him what to say if someone asked.

    “Just ignore now it for now,” he had told her. “They’re only going to get more nosey as time goes on.”

    Chance didn’t seem to entirely concerned about anything. The following days after the kiss he was consumed with practices, and paid little attention to her. And that stung only a little bit until she reminded herself the reason she was stuck in the middle of a publicity nightmare that the both of them were ill equipped to handle.

      The first opening season game was in New York City on Sunday morning. Just as Robert had promised, a plane ticket was stapled to her paycheck along with a hotel reservation that was thankfully just for herself. She stood on the sidelines alongside Robert while they watched touchdown after touchdown, the deafening roar of fans filling their ears. If there were one thing that never ceased to amaze Arabella was the time and money fans spent on coming to the games to watch.  Their excited energy filled the entire stadium as Chance led the team forward to a sure victory of 37-7 with only ten seconds left on the clock.

      Robert leaned over suddenly to shout into her ear over the noise. “I just want you to know that I made reservations for you and Chance for dinner tonight. Your relationship has renewed the fan’s enthusiasm to be here.”

      The final seconds ticked down followed by cheers and celebrations from the end zone. The pit of Arabella’s stomach twisted into disappointed knots. She had hoped to enjoy a bit of window shopping and privacy.

     “It’s not a relationship though,” Arabella corrected, but Robert was already striding down the sidelines in the direction of where the celebrations were taking place.

     She gathered her purse from her seat, and started in the direction of the locker rooms when Chance appeared by her side.

     Arabella tensed at the sight of him. “What?”

     Slipping his helmet off, Chance ran a hand through dampened blonde locks. His eyes were sparkling from adrenaline. A cheshire grin stretched across his smoothly shaved face that was covered in sweat.

     “Robert suggested that I come give you a celebratory kiss and hug,” he said.

     The thought of kissing Chance again made her stomach flutter with a variety of emotions that ranged from repulsion and adrenaline. It wasn’t so bad kissing Chance. It was just dealing with his brooding and cocky attitude.

     “Of course he did,” Arabella said, tightly. “That’s the whole point of me being here is to look like your arm candy.”

     His eyebrows furrowed at those harsh words.

     “Sorry,” she mumbled, her cheeks flushing brightly. “I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. I guess I’m just—”

     “Look,” Chance cut in smoothly, “I don’t want to be apart of it either, but we’re here now. We both have things at stake if this doesn’t go well. I’m not going to apologize for kissing you earlier this week because I wanted to kiss you. It wasn’t for the camera.”

     Arabella’s heart skipped at that. She stared up at him, trying to pick up any indications of a lie, but found none.

     “It wasn’t?”

     “No,” Chance said, firmly, “and neither is this.”

     He grabbed her by the waist firmly, tugging her into him. Warm lips descended upon hers again, and they tasted faintly of orange Gatorade. Arabella exhaled through her nose to calm her racing nerves, and placed a hand on the bulky protection equipment under Chance’s jersey. She kissed him back tentatively.

     Just as quickly as it started, it ended.

     Chance pulled back to stare down at her with an indescribable expression before letting her go. He gave a sharp nod.

    “I’ll see you at the hotel later,” he said.

    A swarm of cameras quickly enveloped Chance as he disappeared into a sea of people. Arabella quickly made her way off the field before she could get cornered by anyone. She had no idea of what Chance said was true about wanting to kiss her. Chance was a womanizer, and he had great charisma and charm. It was part of the reason no one ever complained about his behavior for a long time.

    Her confusion only mounted when Chance arrived at her hotel room around 3:30pm dressed down in a pair dark blue sweat pants and a plain grey t-shirt.

    “I know Robert said we need to go out,” he said, “but I’m tired of the cameras and all the publicity shit.”

    “Okay. So, what do you want to do then?” 

    “How about visiting some stores or something?” He offered, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his sweat pants. “There’s a place here that sells amazing coffee too if you like coffee.”

     “I like coffee,” Arabella said. “Are you sure about this? Robert is going to give us an earful.”

     Chance scowled. “I don’t care right now. I’m tired of the media attention. I’m not adding more to it tonight. Are you with me or not?”

     She hesitated for a moment. Going off script meant repercussions from Robert, but staring into Chance’s tired eyes, she knew he felt the same way she did about this weekend.

     “Give me a minute to change.”

     Opting for a pair of comfortable leggings and a destroyed tank top for their stroll, Arabella carefully hung up the black dress she had brought for their date tonight. She tossed her high heels back into her suitcase with a relieved sigh before slipping into her sandals.

      “Much better,” Chance said, nodding in approval.  “You’d draw attention to us if you were walking around in a dress and heels for no reason.”

     Arabella smiled. “I hate heels anyway. They kill my feet by the end of the night.”

     They spent the next few hours browsing through various stores. Arabella found time slipping by them surprisingly fast and pleasant as they chatted about whatever came to mind. This was the side of Chance that she liked the most, she thought. The calm and relaxed Chance that didn’t feel the need to put up a front for everyone. 

    They ordered coffee at a corner coffee shop near Central Park. True to Chance’s words, it was delicious and smooth. Arabella found herself perking up with the much needed caffeine boost as they walked in comfortable silence under the trees.

    “I have to ask a question,” Chance said, sipping at his coffee with a pleased sigh.

    Arabella cradled her own cup. “What’s that?”

    “How did someone like you end up working for Robert?”

    “Someone like me?” She gave him a confused frown. “Do I not look like the type that should be working as an assistant.”

    “No, to be honest,” he replied. “I think you look like the type of woman who wants to own a library or something like that. You aren’t a sports fan. I caught your bored expression several times this morning.”

    She laughed.

    “You’re right, I’m not, and I was bored. I’m an English major, so my house is full of books, but my parents know Robert and Coach Adams on a very personal level. When I graduated college, Robert offered me a job as one of his assistants to edit his speeches, letters, etc.”

    “That makes much more sense,” Chance said.

    They paused to sit down on one of the benches near a bush filled with blooming flowers.

    “What about you?” Arabella asked, curiously. “Where did you come from before being drafted two years ago?”

    “Notre Dame,” he responded. “I was the quarterback there for three years on a full ride scholarship. I picked some bullshit major because I didn’t want to do anything else besides play football. I knew that even in middle school that I was going to be a professional football player. My dad never once questioned it either.”

    “That’s true passion there if you knew what you wanted to do at middle school,” she said. Hesitating for a moment, she asked, “Where are your parents if you don’t mind me asking? I never see them with you.”

    Chance shrugged his shoulders. “My dad’s here in New York, but he’s gone for a business trip this weekend. He’s a stockbroker on Wall Street. My mom died of cancer when I was a kid.”

    “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

    “It’s fine. It happened a long time ago, so I’ve had plenty of time to get over it.” He turned to look at her intently. “What about your parents?”

     “They live twenty minutes outside of Philadelphia on a farm,” Arabella said. “My dad comes from a rich line of an oil family, but he invested all of his money into several small start up companies that have boomed since then. My mom, you know, is a mom. She’s the type of housewife you see on Home and Garden magazines. That’s how our house looked my entire childhood.”

    “And do they know about what’s going on?”

    Arabella blinked in surprise at the question. “They do,” she said, slowly. “Is that a problem?”

    “No,” Chance replied, looking at her strangely. “Why would it be?”

    “I guess I don’t understand why you asked that question.”

    “Because I was just curious what they think about it is all,” he said. “You seem like you come from the same type of family that I do. Money talks, and so does reputations.”

     “I agree,” Arabella replied, not sure of where the conversation was leading to. “My parents encouraged me to do this for other reasons. Not reputations or money. Is your dad like that or something?”

     “He’s been that way since I can remember,” Chance said, a trace of bitterness noticeable in his voice. “It made me who I am today, no doubt, but my dad is always the one telling me that winning is everything. I think it sorta of fucked me up in the process because I think winning is scoring women too.”

     Arabella picked anxiously at her coffee cup. The last thing she ever expected out of being forced into a fake relationship for cameras was Chance’s honesty. She had a gut feeling though that Chance never had the opportunity to genuinely talk to people without it dealing with football, money, or the fame.

     She cleared her throat, and squared her shoulders for an honest answer to a question in the back of her mind.

     “Are you trying to score with me?”

     Chance’s stare didn’t waver from her own. It only darkened in intensity, and he reached out to cup her cheek in his hand.

    “Yes and no,” he said.

    Her heart started to race again when Chance leant in to close the gap between them.

    “That doesn’t make any sense,” she said, breathlessly.

    “It’s not supposed to.”

    He kissed her deeply. And not the type of kisses they had exchanged for. This kiss made Arabella’s heart pound furiously while her stomach flipped. It wasn’t a mad or lustful kiss. It was a kiss that just wanted her lips on his own for the hell of it.