Rushed: A Second Chance Sports Romance (16 page)

She nods, and I can see a hint of true understanding in her eyes, and I know that somewhere inside her mind is the woman who raised me trying to get out, trying to escape the prison that her mind and body have become, but that glimmer is soon lost in the happy haze that she's in today. It's sad, but it's better than when she's lost and scared, I guess.

“April, if you don't mind, how about you and your mother get some tea or something ready, while I get to talk to Tyler. I've been wanting to meet you for a long time, you know.”

“I learned that just today, sir,” Tyler says. “April showed me that old picture, and it came back to me.”

I take Mom over to the kitchenette, which doesn't have much, just a microwave and a weak water heater that can't prepare real tea, but at least lets her and Dad warm up pre-made meals and have the illusion of normal life. I find some tea biscuits in the cupboard and put them on a plate while Mom fills the microwaveable tea kettle and puts it in the microwave for three minutes.

I listen as Dad and Tyler talk, starting off with football, as I guess men would do. “Great game Saturday.”

For the next hour, Tyler talks with them, kind and humorous, never shirking the reality of Dad's condition in front of him but not lingering over it to spare Mom. He's walking the tightrope between their mental states with a comfort that took me months to accomplish, and never does he sound patronizing or like he would rather be somewhere else, like some of the nurses have.

As the sun starts to go down, Dad reaches over and takes Tyler's hand. “Thank you, Tyler. You've reassured a man in his last days.”

“You're not in your . . .” Tyler starts, before stopping. There's no point to the bullshit anymore. “I promise you, I'll take care of April.”

“I know you will, I've been reading it in your eyes for the last hour. Which is why you have my blessing.”

Tyler stops, and I drop the last of the biscuit I'm eating onto my plate. Mom's off in her own world again, and it's so quiet in the room you can hear a pin drop. Finally, Tyler finds his voice. “I . . . I'm sorry?”

“Let's face it, Son, there's little chance I'm going to be walking my daughter down the aisle. I'm not pressuring you . . . just, you have my approval if you two ever reach that step.”

Tyler nods and swallows. “Excuse me, please. I’m going to grab some fresh air.”

Tyler leaves, and I look at Dad, who's watching me with his eyes, the only thing left on him still unaffected by the cancer. “Daddy . . .”

“What? It’s obvious you two were fated,
Ziigwan,”
Dad says, using my First Nations name for the first time in a long time. I'd asked him to stop after that summer of being called Pocahontas, and most of the time since he's respected my wish.

I swallow tears, instead smiling, and give him a kiss on the forehead. “I love you, Daddy. But you have to promise me something.”

“What's that, sweetheart?”

I lean over and whisper in his air. “You don't stop fighting. You gave your blessing, but keep fighting. Maybe you can still give me away.”

Dad nods, and squeezes my hand. “I fight every day — I’m not stop. Give your mother a kiss before you go.”

On the way back toward the hotel, Tyler’s quiet. I look over, concerned. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah,” Tyler says quietly. “Just, your father's words still are running around in my head. It caught me a little off guard.”

“I can tell. They surprised the hell outta me too. Tyler, he wasn't trying to pressure you or anything.”

Tyler looks over and gives me a reassuring smile. “That wasn't on my mind at all. I never thought I'd get a father's blessing — lots of cursing maybe, but not a blessing.”

“You’re a better man than you give yourself credit for.”

Tyler thinks about it, then nods slightly. “Okay. Listen, do you mind if we skip going back to the hotel for a little bit? I'd like to know more about these years that everyone keeps talking about today — since camp. How about giving me a little tour of the neighborhood?”

I'm not ready to go back to the hotel either, I need a chance to regain my composure. “Great idea. It's not far from here, only a couple of kilometers. We can go there, then get some dinner, and head back to the hotel.”

We drive downtown, then out to the north where I find my old house. It's been sold and a new family lives there now in order to pay for my parents' health bills, but that's okay. I was pretty much an outdoors girl until high school, and after pointing out the house, we drive down the block to the park that I hung out at the most. We park on the curbside and get out, looking around. “Well, this is perhaps the most important site in my childhood,” I say, waving. “I don't know how many hours I spent messing around on the jungle gym, and later on the blacktop playing basketball.”

“I didn't know that about you,” Tyler says, watching a couple of kids shooting hoops. “But the camp didn't have a basketball goal, if I remember right.”

“You haven't taken
that
many hits to the head,” I tease. “But yeah, I was a hoop hound for quite a few years. Actually, I remember you told me you use to play some ball too, right?”

“Basketball was never my sport. How about you? Still got it?” Tyler asks with a gleam in his eye.

“I don't know,” I reply honestly. “I haven't picked up a ball in years.”

Tyler nods, then looks to the kids playing ball. “Yo, guys!”

The kids stop playing and turn to us, curious.

“How much to rent your ball for ten minutes?” Tyler asks. “How about five bucks?”

The six boys confer silently, then turn back. “Five bucks each, and you sign Goose's backpack. It's his ball,” one of them says, obviously recognizing Tyler.

“Deal,” Tyler says, pulling out his wallet. “I trust you guys can divvy it up yourselves? I don't have six five dollar bills.”

The boys take the ten and twenty and nod, handing over the ball. “Yeah, no problem, we’ll be back with a pen for the sig.”

Tyler takes the ball and bounces it a few times, checking it out. “Deal.”

He turns and passes the ball to me, not with the amount of pep he puts on a football, but still with enough that I have to get my hands up quickly.

I dribble a little, getting the feeling back slowly, enjoying the hollow rubber sound of the bounce. It's been too long. I take a few shots, then toss Tyler an alley-up pass that he dunks.

“Whoa . . . nice dunk man!”

“Thanks. You guys get the pen?”

“Yeah, and my big brother wanted to come along too,” one of the boys said. I turned and my blood goes to ice as I see Thomas along with the boys. I thought that boy looked familiar. I hadn't been around his little brother much, they're really far apart in age, but Thomas . . . hasn't changed much in six years. A little more grizzled, but still the same basic face.

“Thomas . . .” I whisper, backing up fearfully. I bump into Tyler, who takes my shoulders and I utter a little scream.

“What's wrong?” he whispers. “Who’s that?”

“That's Thomas,” I whisper, my eyes full of fear. I glance back, and I can tell he's recognized me, too. “Please, let’s just go?”

Tyler studies my face for a moment, then nods. He looks up at the boys and holds up his hands. “Just a moment, guys. My lady's not feeling too well, so if y'all don't mind, I'll sign and we’ll take off, that cool?”

Goose, who has the backpack, nods and runs up. “Here. Thanks, man.”

Tyler takes the marker and the backpack and scribbles on the side quickly, with no personalization at all. “No problem. Thanks for the ball.”

“What, no hello?” Thomas asks as soon as Goose has his bag, sneering. “I knew you were stupid, but you were at least polite.”

“We don't need this shit,” Tyler whispers, capping the marker and handing it back to Goose, who's gone the color of milk. “Come on.”

Putting his arm around my shoulders, Tyler leads me away, but Thomas won't let it go. “Hey! You're not going to introduce me to your sugar daddy? Hi, I'm Thomas, the guy who taught her how to fuck, not that she's any good at it.”

Tyler stops, and I take his hand. “Don’t. Don't get into trouble.”

Tyler looks me in the eyes, and shakes his head. “No, it's not okay.”

He turns and walks back toward Thomas, a false grin on his face. Thomas is a bully, and isn't expecting anyone to stand up to him, but still he's obviously got his reputation to maintain in the neighborhood, so he doesn't quite back down yet. “You really want some, Yankee boy? I already got everything I wanted outta her.”

“From what I heard, you go the other way now,” Tyler replies. “Oh, you think I didn't know? I bet you got used to being someone’s bitch while you were in jail.”

Tyler's goading him, and it works. Thomas throws the first punch, but being a neighborhood tough guy is nothing compared to a professional athlete, and Tyler catches him with a punch to the gut that doubles him over before nailing him with a right cross that drops him.

Tyler backs away, but someone's already called the cops, and in this part of London the cops respond quickly. A siren bleeps, and rotating blue lights flash in the afternoon light, a cop getting out of his cruiser already. Tyler looks, and shakes his right hand, where I can see two knuckles busted open. “Shit.”

* * *

“
T
hanks for posting bail
.”

“You're my boyfriend, and you were sticking up for me. There's no way that I couldn’t.”

“Still, to get arrested,” Tyler groans as he climbs into the Mustang. “Coach is going to be pissed.”

“Most likely, but I think he’ll understand. You didn't throw the first punch.”

“Yeah, but I wasn't deescalating either. You know I was egging the guy on.”

“He deserved it,” I say flatly as I get in as well. “Now, let's go back to the hotel. It's a little late.”

We drive back, and up in the room Tyler lays down, his forearm over his eyes. “Coach is going to fucking kill me.”

“Yet you don't sound like you regret what you did,” I say, lying down next to him. I lean over and kiss Tyler on the lips, gentle and loving. “I was touched by what you did. You took my bogeyman and chopped him down to size.”

“Then I have no regrets,” Tyler says, taking his hand off his face and turning to me.

We kiss again, coming together in slow little increments, taking our time. When his hand comes up to rest on my breast again over my shirt, I chuckle. “Chocolate and batteries.”

“You said that before. What’s that mean?”

“It was the closest thing I could come up with back then to explain to myself how you made me feel when you touched me. Sweet and electric, chocolate and batteries.”

Tyler hums and kisses me again. “There's no words to describe how you make me feel. You're just . . . April.”

“Just April?” I tease, and he laughs.

“You’ll never be
just
April,” Tyler murmurs, then stops. “Wait . . . we can't.”

“Why?”

“No condoms.”

I chuckle and push him back. “Good. I don't want one tonight. Regardless of the consequences… nothing’s going to stop me.”

Tyler looks me in the eyes and nods, coming to his own decision.

We kiss again, and Tyler trails his lips down my throat, nibbling on my neck as his hands find my breasts again, his fingers working their magic as I pull him on top of me. I can feel him swelling inside his jeans through the shorts I'm wearing, and as he pins me to the bed, still so careful with his weight, I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling on him more. “My man…”

Tyler pauses his kisses on my throat and hums. “I like that, your man.”

“You
are
my man.”

Tyler pulls his knees up and sits back, looking down on me with my legs still wrapped around his waist. He slides his hands under my t-shirt, pulling it out of the waistband of my shorts, his fingers leaving electric trails on my skin as we stare into each other's eyes. This is a first for me, and I wonder if it is for him as well. He said so . . . but then again, there's the lawsuit.

Fuck the lawsuit. To me, to Tyler, this is our first time unprotected, taking the thrills and risks that have added true flavor to making love since the beginning of time. His fingers find the front clasp of my bra and unhook it, leaving my breasts naked to his touch, exploring and tweaking my nipples until I am lost in a haze of moans and whimpers, it feels so good. My legs unwrap themselves, and my eyes close as Tyler pushes my shirt up and lowers his lips to my breasts, sucking and licking hot sparks of arousal that shoot through my entire body. I'm nearly incoherent when Tyler lifts his head up and pushes my leg over, turning me over onto my stomach. I know exactly what he wants, and I want it too, getting onto my knees and reaching down, unsnapping my shorts and shoving the zipper down.

Tyler's behind me, his hands finding the waistband of my shorts and pulling them down, my pussy steaming hot and wet from his attention to my breasts. Still, he's careful, helping me off with my shorts before lowering his mouth. I can feel his breath on my pussy, and his tongue snakes out to lick teasingly, lightning shooting from the tip of his tongue directly to my brain, explosions of pleasure going off with every sweep of his tongue. “Tyler . . .”