Most Likely to Score

“Sure. You love her. Okay, great.”

Another slam of the door, and Trevor strides in.

“Tell him,” I shout to Trevor, pointing at my big brother. “He knows! I told him the other night. Trevor, tell them I’m in love with Jillian.”

My brother stops in his tracks and laughs. “But how is your knee?”

I hold my arms out wide. “Do you people not get it? Listen to me. I. LOVE. HER.”

But they don’t get it. They look at me as if I’ve gone mad.

My heart stops when the most beautiful sight appears at the door. Long black hair, beautiful brown eyes, red cherry earrings. Tears stream down her face as she runs into the locker room. She races to me, puts her hand on my shoulder, and with concern asks point-blank, “Are you okay?”

I smile dopily, happiness whistling a happy tune inside me as I meet her eyes. “I love you. I love you so much I want everyone to know that I’m love with you.”

She dips her face closer. “Did you get hit on the head?”

“No! Why is everyone asking me that?”

Dr. Miller clears his throat. “Jones—”

I know what’s coming, so I slide off the table, landing on both feet without wincing. I take a few steps around the locker room, my arms out wide, showing off. “There? See? Everyone happy? It hardly hurts. My knee is fine. I can probably even run a mile right now.”

Dr. Miller and the PT each grab hold of an arm before I can show them my speed.

“No,” the doctor says sharply. “No running.”

I shake them off and walk the few feet. I stop at Jillian, cup her cheeks, and say once more, “I’m in love with you.” I plant a kiss on her lips. She kisses me back, so softly, so tenderly it makes me tremble.

We break the kiss, and I spin around. “My knee is fine, and I love this woman. Do you all hear that?” I stare at each and every person in the locker room. “She is mine. I’m with her. We’re together. I’m going to take her to dinner and kiss her in public. I’m going to the movies with her, and I’m going to hold her hand. I’m going to spend the night at her house and leave in the morning. I’m not going to hide.”

I turn back to her, my words for her now. “I want a career, I want deals, and I want to play for a long time, but I want you more. I should’ve told you last night. I should have told you the night before. I should have sent more than two texts. I should have called Ford yesterday, and I didn’t because I was afraid of losing everything. I was scared of this very thing happening, but once it happened, I realized you’re what I can’t afford to lose. Even if the deals all fall apart. Even if this ends today. I’m not going to give up loving you for any of those things, and I’m sorry it took me getting clocked to see the light, but sometimes it takes—”

“Man-time,” she supplies with a smile. Tears slide down her cheeks, but they sure as hell look like happy tears now. “It took you man-time.”

I laugh. “Yeah, I suppose it did. Do you forgive me?”

She runs a hand through my hair. “That’s already done.”

I grab her, pulling her close, lifting her up and then kissing her once more. When I set her down, I’m greeted by slow claps from the audience. “See? They’re happy I love you.”

Jillian shrugs. “I think they’re happy because you walked and you lifted me, even though ten minutes ago you were wincing in pain.”

I look down at my knee. “Holy shit. It doesn’t hurt anymore. She’s a miracle worker.”

The doctor laughs, then clears his throat. “Be that as it may, we still need X-rays.”

“Listen to the doctor, Jones,” Jillian says. “Go.”

“Don’t leave?”

She crosses her arms. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Thirty minutes later, Dr. Miller studies the X-ray film and makes his declaration. “You’re one of the lucky ones. Sometimes you fall and you fracture your tibial plateau. Sometimes you tear your ACL, and sometimes it hurts like hell when you get clobbered and it turns out to be nothing.”

“This is nothing?”

He nods. “This is nothing. Right now, I see no reason why you can’t play next weekend. But come back tomorrow to check in, and you know the drill for tonight – ibuprofen and ice if you need it.”

As I leave with Ford and Jillian, I tell my agent once more, “I’m not having a secret relationship with this woman any longer. I’m having a relationship that’s out in the great wide open, and that’s exactly where I want to be with her. We need to tell Liam.”

“Tell him yourself. He’s chatting with your parents.”

We find them on the field, and my mom clasps me in a big hug, reaching up to circle her arms around me. “They told us you were going to be fine. Thank God.” Her voice is laced with the relief that I suppose only a mom can ever feel this deeply. Liam takes a few steps away, giving us space.

“I’m great, Mom. I’m all good.”

We separate, and she pats my chest. “You be careful.” Her blue eyes are fierce and full of love.

“Mom, I want you to meet someone.” I squeeze Jillian’s arm, and she smiles at my mom. “This is Jillian Moore. She works for the team. She’s my girlfriend. Can she come over for dinner sometime?”

My mom freezes for a moment, then turns to Jillian and shakes her hand. “You’re welcome anytime, sweetheart.”

“So great to meet you. And thank you, Mrs. Beckett. I’m looking forward to it.”

My mom swivels her attention to me, wagging a finger. “And thanks for telling me you had a girlfriend.”

I shrug happily. “Everyone is kind of finding out at the same time. But I’ve wanted to introduce her to you for a long time.”

“Good. Now, let’s have you meet his father,” my mom says to Jillian then takes her to meet my dad.

Ford brings Liam to my side, and my agent’s voice is deep and firm. “I believe you gentlemen have some things to chat about, and I’m happy to help.”

“Thanks. I can take it from here,” I tell him, since this is my job—to man up. Like my dad taught me—success on the field is about talent and effort, but also luck. This is the effort part.

I look at Liam and waste no time. “I’m dating Jillian. I love her. And if that causes a problem with the contract, I’m sorry. Please know I enjoyed working with you. But I love this woman.”

Liam blinks, surprise registering in his eyes. He’s quiet at first, scratching his jaw, swinging his gaze down the field. He takes a breath then turns his attention back to me. He hooks his thumb over his shoulder. “I met your parents.”

“Good to hear,” I say, not sure why he’s mentioning what I already know.

“They’re good people.”

I smile. “They are.”

“Your mom couldn’t stop talking about how worried she was about you, but how she knew you were going to be okay.”

“Yeah?”

Liam nods. “She said she watched the replay over and over. Said it was like a fall you took in high school, but you walked that off, too.”

“Those are the best kinds of falls.”

He’s silent again, and I have the impression he’s the type of man who’s fine with the quiet. Who takes time to process. When he speaks again, his words surprise me. “I see you introduced Jillian to your parents.”