Buddy Carruthers, Wide Receiver Page 2

  “I’m sorry. So sorry. I got into the game. Can you meet me just under that arch there?”

  She nodded.

  “I stink. Please wait fifteen minutes until I shower and dress.”

  “I can smell you from here,” Stash put in, pinching his nose.

  “Fifteen minutes. One minute more, and I’m gone,” she said.

  Buddy nodded and took off, running full speed toward the locker room. He showered in record time. After throwing on clothes, he was combing his wet hair with his fingers as he rejoined Emmy and Stash.

  She looked good, dressed in a form-hugging dress and spiked heels. She’s lost weight, but not too much. His gaze wandered over her, stopping on her chest and hips to drink in her delicious curves.

  “There’s something I’ve been wanting to do for a long time,” she said, approaching Buddy.

  He grinned. Kiss me, baby. Go ahead. He closed his eyes.

  The sound preceded the sting of a sharp slap, stunning him. He fell back a step or two, grabbed his cheek, and stared at her. “What the fuck was that for?”

  Her eyes became sharp points of emerald green ice. “For leaving me. Dumping me. The little nobody, wannabe singer wasn’t good enough for the pro football star, eh? Well, who’s not good enough now?” She crossed her arms over her chest.

  “What are you talking about?” Buddy stepped closer, his knees bent, ready to duck.

  “For all the calls you didn’t make. For all the nights I cried myself to sleep because you wouldn’t talk to me.”

  “I must have left a hundred messages on your phone. You never called back. Who wouldn’t talk to who?”

  “Stash told me you’d say that.”

  “It’s not what you think.” Buddy shot a hostile glance at her manager.

  “Oh? Then, what is it?”

  “I can explain.”

  “Sure, sure. And the way you’re whoring around. I see the gossip columns. You’re sleeping with anything in a “D” cup that breathes. You did me a favor.” She turned to walk away.

  Buddy grabbed her arm. “It’s not like that. I’d leave ’em all behind in a second for another chance with you.”

  “Right. Like I believe that.” But a flush stole into her cheeks. “Now that I’m successful, you want to get back together? That’s the lowest of the low. Never happen.”

  Buddy held up his hand, fingers spread. “Five. Five minutes is all I ask.”

  Stash took her arm. “Come on, Emerald. You don’t have to take his shit.”

  “Oh, I get it. I get it now,” Buddy said, nodding, as he rubbed his cheek. “You traded me in for him. He could do something for your career, and I was just a worthless piece of crap.”

  “Fuck off, Buddy. You’re history.” Stash pushed by the wide receiver.

  Buddy grabbed Stash’s collar, and drew back his fist, but Griff called out from the shadows, “Don’t, Buddy. It’s not worth it.” The quarterback sprinted toward his friend and put his hand on Buddy’s shoulder.

  Buddy spat on the ground. “You’re right, Griff. Trash like him isn’t worth it. Drop dead, Stash.”

  They stood in heated silence. Emmy and Buddy stared at each other.

  “I guess I misjudged you. The girl I knew always wanted the truth. The absolute truth, no matter how painful.”

  “I have the absolute truth. You didn’t want to have anything to do with me. That’s the truth.”

  “Not exactly.”

  Emmy looked at her watch. “Two minutes.”

  “Don’t even need that much. Here’s the deal. I didn’t get picked in the draft. Didn’t have a fat football contract.”

  “What?” Her eyes widened. “But you’re here?”

  “That’s right. I had to become a free agent. Undrafted is what they call it.”

  “I didn’t know.” She put her hand on his arm.

  “Didn’t you? I figured since I wasn’t worth anything anymore, you weren’t interested. You were too big for me. A star. Not interested in a lowly, undrafted wide receiver who had to work his way up. I called you a hundred times and left messages.”

  “That’s a lie. I checked my messages a thousand times a day.”

  Buddy turned a cold stare to Stash. “Then someone erased them.”

  Emmy also faced her manager. “Tell me you didn’t.”

  “I don’t know what he’s talking about.” Stash said, shifting his weight. “We gotta go, Emerald. We’ve got a show tonight.” He pulled on her hand.

  She snatched it away. Her angry face reddened. Huge tears leaked from her eyes to her cheeks. “Tell me you didn’t do that,” she whispered.

  “Come on, come on. He’d just slow you down, anyway. Hey, who built your career? Him or me?” Stash straightened his shoulders.

  Emmy covered her eyes with her hands. Her shoulders trembled. Buddy stepped up and closed his arms around her, drawing her into his chest. He kissed her hair.

  Stash grabbed her elbow, yanking her away and shoving Buddy aside. The wide received fisted Stash’s lapels and pulled him up nose-to-nose. With a snarl that was almost inhuman, Buddy responded. “Keep your hands off her. If you ever grab her like that again, I’ll kill you!”

  “Buddy,” Griff said, trying to separate the men.

  Emmy wiped her cheeks. “We really do have a show. I have to leave.”

  Buddy dropped his hands. “When can I see you again?”

  “I don’t know. We’re going on tour for nine months.”

  “That’s too long.”

  “It’s been five years. Why now?”

  “I need you.” Buddy closed his fingers around the back of her neck and drew her to him. He planted a gentle kiss, then, when she didn’t pull away, he deepened it. Emmy put her hands on his shoulders. When he stood back, applause and war-whoops from his teammates who were looking on startled him.

  “Come on, Emerald,” Stash said, taking her hand.

  “Wait!” Buddy whipped out his phone. “Your number.”

  She waited for him to enter it. “And if I don’t hear from him, Stash, I’ll know why.” She glared at her manager.

  Stash held up his hands, palms out. “I’m innocent.”

  “Bullshit,” Buddy growled. “Got it. Be safe.”

  She nodded then threaded through the crowd, stopping to sign a few autographs on her way. Buddy let out a breath and thrust his hands in his pockets.

  “You really do know her,” Tony remarked.

  “Yep.” Buddy blinked rapidly for a moment then moved toward the door, his gaze trained on the ground in front of him. Griff put his hand on his friend’s shoulder and squeezed once as he accompanied him to the parking lot. “What am I going to do, Griff? It took me five years to find her. I can’t lose her again.”

  “You’ll figure out something, Buddy. You always do.”

  “Hell, this isn’t some Goliath defenseman in my way, it’s thousands of miles between us all the time. How am I going to fix that?”

  A limousine waited by the team entrance. Emerald stood by the door, signing autographs and chatting with the team. Buddy stopped in the shadows, waiting for the men to dissipate. Gradually, they moseyed on to their own cars. Stash got in the backseat, leaving the door open.

  Emerald raised her gaze and turned her head, as if she was looking for something. The wide receiver headed toward the vehicle. She spotted him and moved to meet him. Taking his arm, she steered him out of earshot of the car.

  “Emmy, hey, can I still call you ‘Emmy’? Or do you want me to call you ‘Emerald’?”

  “Emmy’s fine.”

  Buddy shifted his weight from foot to foot, his glance skipped around from the ground to the limo, everywhere but her eyes.

  “What is it? I have to leave.”

  Sweat broke out on his forehead. Buddy swiped his sleeve across his face. Now or never, asshole. Don’t waste any more time. “I still love you,” he blurted, moving his weight to the balls of his feet.

  “What?”

 
; “I still love you. That hasn’t changed. I got why you’d dump a guy who couldn’t even get drafted. Your career took off, and you didn’t need me dragging you down. But things are different now. I’ve led the league in receptions for the past three years. I’ve got a solid contract. I make a shitload of money, Emmy. But it doesn’t mean crap if I can’t be with you.”

  “I’m booked solid for months. I’ve signed contracts I can’t get out of. And do what? Quit? Follow you around like a damn groupie? No.” She shook her head.

  “But do you still care for me?”

  Now, it was her turn to lower her head. “What difference does it make what I feel?”

  He raised her chin with a finger. “Makes a difference to me.”

  There was silence.

  “Okay. I get it. You don’t feel the same.” Humiliation flooded through him, and he sensed color rising to his cheeks. Great, dumbass, you declare yourself, and she could give a shit. Smooth move.

  Emmy looked up. “That’s not it.” She cupped his cheek and moved closer, until their bodies were touching.

  “Then, what is it?”

  She pulled him down and kissed him. He rested his hands lightly on her waist, resisting the urge to crush her to him.

  “Of course I still care about you. But with Stash around. Well…it’s complicated.”

  Buddy stepped back. “You bangin’ him?”

  “Do you really want to know?”

  The wide receiver shook his head.

  “He’s been with me for five years. Promoting me. Taking care of everything. I need him.”

  “You can hire someone else to do that.”

  “Can’t hire someone to believe in you, love you, in his own stupid way.”

  “Do you love him?”

  “What does it matter? I need him.”

  Buddy ran his fingers through his hair. He hadn’t expected this. “Can’t he still be your manager, without sleeping with you?”

  “Of course.”

  “You still didn’t answer my question.” Buddy grabbed her upper arms, pulling her up to face him. “Do you love him?”

  “Ow! You’re hurting me. No, I don’t love him.”

  Buddy released her, rubbing his palms up and down her arms. “Sorry.”

  Emmy rested hers against his chest while they stared at each other.

  “Okay, he’s your manager. I get that. But you gotta stop sleepin’ with him.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m back. And it’s you and me now.”

  “Really? A thousand miles away?” She slid her hands down and away from him.

  “Two thousand miles away. I don’t care. You’re my girl again.”

  “Am I?”

  “Don’t play games with me. We’re back. If you want it. And if you don’t, say so now. This is your last chance. If you tell me ‘no,’ I’m gone forever.”

  “So, I have to decide this minute? After five years? I don’t even know who you are now.”

  “I’m the same crazy guy you used to love.”

  “Nobody’s the same after five years. Life changes people.”

  “You’re the same beautiful, sweet girl I fell for.”

  “Not really. Life’s changed me. I’m not so sweet anymore.”

  “There’s a difference between sweet and stupid. You were never stupid.”

  She laughed. “Some compliment.”

  He colored. “You know what I mean.” Time to go for the touchdown.

  “Yeah, I do.” She smiled up at him.

  Buddy leaned down to kiss her. “If you don’t want me, I promise not to bother you again.”

  Chapter Two

  Emmy’s hands gripped his shirt, holding him against her. “Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare disappear again.”

  “Tell me you love me,” he whispered.

  “I love you. I need you, Buddy.” Her voice caught and tears flowed.

  He folded her into his arms and stroked her hair. “Don’t cry, baby. Don’t cry. We’ll find a way. You’ll see. I’m back, and it’s gonna be okay now.”

  “Emerald!” A harsh voice from the limo broke them apart. “Get your big ass in this car right now. We’ve gotta be on stage in Boston in three hours!”

  “‘Big ass?’ I’ll kill him.” Buddy started toward the car.

  Emmy put her hand on his arm. “Don’t. Relax. It’ll be okay. I gotta let him down easy.”

  “Then, it’s us?”

  She nodded.

  “Forever?”

  “Well, maybe. We’ll see.”

  “I won’t let you down. I promise.” He picked her up, twirled her around, and then led her to the waiting vehicle.

  Stash had gotten out of the car and was pacing, glaring at them. “You,” he said, pointing to Buddy. “Stay away from her.”

  “Fuck off, asshole.” Buddy kissed Emmy. “Goodbye, baby. Until next time.”

  “There ain’t gonna be a next time, fucker!” Stash shouted at Buddy.

  “That’s what you think, dickwad.” Buddy headed for his Mercedes. He turned at the sound of a door slamming and watched them pull out of the parking lot.

  The wide receiver slid behind the wheel and put his vehicle in gear. Emotions whirled through his body like a tornado. Happiness fought with sadness, hope tangled with fear, and all the time, he wondered how he could make thousands of miles disappear.

  When he got home, he popped a can of beer and threw some leftover pizza in the microwave. While the food was reheating, he ambled into his den and plucked a folder from his bookcase. Pays to be organized. He put the pizza on the small table in the kitchen and opened the folder. The paper with his travel dates was right on top. He set that aside then opened his laptop. He clicked on the Emerald Fan Page then on her concert schedule and printed it.

  As he ate, he compared Emmy’s to his. Bingo! Thousands of miles becomes hundreds of miles. He retrieved a pen and pad from his desk and returned to the kitchen. After scooping out a huge bowl of chocolate chip ice cream, he sat down at the table and wrote.

  Emmy plays Chicago in two weeks. I’m playing there, too.

  Emmy plays Los Angeles in two months. I’m playing in San Francisco.

  Over the next six months, Buddy found five cities where they were close enough to get together. He smiled as he put away his notes. He popped another beer and filled the bath with cold water.

  At eleven, after a good soak in hot water after the cold, he got ready for bed before sending a message to Emmy.

  I’m in Chicago in 2 weeks when ur in Chicago. Let’s meet.

  He sloughed off his clothes and slid, naked, under the covers. Rolling over, he stared out the window at the moon. A ding alerted him to a text. He smiled. That was fast. She must be anxious to see me. But his smile froze when he read.

  Join me and my parents tomorrow night for dinner.

  It was from Chrissy, one of the team cheerleaders. Buddy ran his hand over his rough cheek and chin. He had forgotten about his occasional girlfriend. She had been hinting about getting serious. Buddy tried to discourage her. He had explained he had no plans to settle down. That was a lie, as he had always wanted a monogamous relationship, but only with Emmy.

  Chrissy persisted. So, Buddy had gradually cut down their dates, from three times a week to twice, then once. While he missed the sex, he wasn’t about to lead her on or make a commitment he didn’t feel. She protested, but Buddy came up with plausible excuse after excuse. Now, she was attempting to tighten the noose, and he rebelled.

  Sure, he screwed around on the road. But he always told the girls it would be a one-night thing. There were enough groupies who didn’t care. They were sure that after one roll in the hay with them, Buddy would fall in love, marry them, and lavish all his money on them. He never thought, for one minute, that they were interested in Buddy Carruthers, the man. They were after whatever they could get and were willing to trade almost anything to trap him. Buddy figured it was an evenly-matched game.

  He la
y in bed, staring at the moon and wracking his brain for an excuse to get out of dinner with Chrissy’s parents. Meeting family was over the line, especially if you planned to dump the chick. He wondered what explanation would make Chrissy back off.

  Before he conked out, one word came to him—“Mom.” He fell asleep with a smile on his face.

  * * * *

  On the ride to Boston, Emmy could hardly contain her anger at Stash. “You manipulative bastard.”

  “Let’s not rehash this.”

  “Rehash? We haven’t been through it once! We’re done.”

  “Done? Me? As your manager?”

  “No, as my boyfriend.”

  “That’s been over for a long time.” Stash stared out the window.

  “Oh? And sleeping with me doesn’t count?”

  “A mercy fuck.”

  “You shithead,” she hissed. Pain knifed through her heart. She masked it. “Since that’s the way you feel, you’re making this easy.”

  “Hey, there are plenty of groupies to keep me warm at night.”

  She turned to look at him, her mouth open. “You’ve been screwing groupies all this time?”

  “Did I say that?”

  “What did you say?”

  “Just forget it. Think about tonight. You need to be up. You’ll be on in two hours.”

  “You’re not helping. Is your sister going to be there?”

  “Of course. Paula’s always there.”

  “What about Lani?”

  “She arrived yesterday. Texted me.”

  “Oh? Why didn’t she text me?” Emmy checked her phone.

  “How the hell should I know?” He shifted in his seat.

  “I’m not jealous, Stash. I don’t love you.”

  He cocked an eyebrow. “You’ve been giving a pretty good imitation.”

  “You’re my manager. That’s all.” She straightened her shoulders and faced front. Taking a big breath helped. She looked forward to pouring her heart out to Lani, her best friend, and Paula. They helped her dress and get made up. They were her go-fers, brought coffee, a glass of wine, and held her hand—whatever she needed. With her parents out of the picture, Stash, Lani, and Paula had become her family.