Saturday dragged by with interminable slowness. He drove into Sparta and hunted up the track manager, apologizing to him for his behavior and promising the man he'd do some special promo for the track to make up for it. Then he drove into Lexington to have something to do so he didn't go crazy sitting around. He ate dinner there and headed back to Lucasville, where he got into bed and spent the most restless night of his life. He thought of every minute he and Kristin had been together, the lushness of her body, the selfless way she gave herself to him, and the erotic combustion of their lovemaking.He lay in bed, reliving every one of their moments together, so aroused he finally stumbled into the shower, turned it on hot, and stroked himself to completion. He'd never thought that, at his age, he'd be jacking off to get relief. And relief was barely a word to describe it because it, in no way, gave him a tenth of the satisfaction he got from Kristin's hands on him, her mouth on him,
Kristin stood beside Andy Grant, watching the cars zip around the Darlington Raceway. She knew Josh had been exceptionally nervous about this race because it was where his career had come to a crashing halt a year ago. But so far so good. And last night, he had told her he finally had his mojo back, so his head was in a very good place. They had three laps to go, and he was currently in third place. She'd brought a small camera but was too nervous to do anything but watch."He's fine." Andy leaned down and spoke in her ear. Otherwise, it was hard to hear over the noise of the engines and the screaming of the crowd. "He was good on both pit stops, remember?"She nodded. Yes, he had been. Revved up but in control."He'll make his big play any minute," Andy went on. "Keep your eyes on the track."She and Josh and Andy had driven up from Atlanta a few days ago so he could do all his prerace things. He'd said they could move anywhere she wanted, but she loved his big house in a suburbs
Part One: Body CheckMatt Vorchak finished cleaning out the rest of the stuff from his locker and zipped up the duffel he'd brought with him. Then he sat on the bench for a long minute just looking around. A combination of exhilaration, sadness and rage bubbled inside him. The excitement of winning The Cup didn't completely soften the fact that this was probably the last time he'd be doing this, and it was a bitter pill to swallow. He'd given his life to the game, in more ways than one, and he had been struck with a single purpose in life. But Fate had apparently decided he'd had too much fun and given him the finger big time."You about ready to leave?"Matt looked up at the sound of Coach Mason Courage 's voice and saw him standing just inside the door.He nodded and pushed himself to his feet, doing his best to ignore the damn twinge in his knee. It was a constant reminder of how his future had fallen apart."I've got everything. Locker's empty for the next person." If his
When it came time for college, Matt applied only to northern schools that had ice hockey programs and with the help of his coaches, managed to score a scholarship to the University of Michigan. He worked his ass off, spending every hour in the workout room to build up his muscles and his strength. His focus was so intent on playing, his obsession and single-minded determination so strong, he had no room in his life for anything else. Just The Game, always capitalized like that in his mind. Again, as he thought about it now, unbelievable arrogance.When he was drafted he was sure he was on his way to a championship team and The Cup. But unfortunately life doesn't always go the way you wanted it to. Somehow after a quick start, he fell just short of first team status. He spent so many years in the minors he wondered if he'd ever get to realize his dream. Would he, in the end, be left with nothing? For a while there the prospect actually gave him a scare, but he refused to give up. O
"With pleasure. We're leaving so you can be alone with your best friend. Your ego."She had stormed out of his room, taking his parents with her and they'd fled back to San Antonio. He had plenty of time to feel sorry for himself in his apartment while he healed. He refused to ask anyone to drive him to rehab after he was released. His teammates were all busy with friends and family now the season was over. He was pretty sure they didn't want to be saddled with hauling his ass around. Besides, he didn't need them lecturing him about how to get on with his life. Instead he became best friends with Uber. He liked the first driver enough that he scheduled him for pickup and delivery at the same time four days a week. None of it, of course, improved his disposition, especially when all the rehab still left him with a slight limp. If he went home to his place in San Antonio at least he could avoid running into any Rage fans.But then what? Did he even have anything waiting for him the
"We did it, Liz."Dara Flynn high fived her partner as they collapsed on the couch in Lizzie's office. They had just returned from Delfina's, an upscale restaurant on San Antonio's south side where they'd overseen a bridal luncheon for one of the city's best-known television reporters. Going into it they both knew that a major success here could take their business to the next level. Conversely, a screw-up could easily trash their reputation and destroy their fledgling business, Wonder Works, that had just celebrated it's one-year anniversary. They'd both put in a lot of hard, slogging time at the largest event planning firm in the city, Affairs to Remember. Starting her own firm had been a risky venture for them, but their former boss had actually encouraged them and referred some smaller events to them."San Antonio needs more firms like this," Margot Shanley, owner of Affairs to Remember, told her. Liz (she hadn't been Lizzie for a long time) reached into the pocket of her skirt
A few years ago, knowing San Antonio was still the place he wanted to put down roots, Matt bought a large townhouse in the northwest area of the city. It was furnished in what one woman had called industrial male. So what if everything was steel and leather and monotones. The couch was comfortable, the flat screen television huge, and he spent most of his time in the third bedroom anyway, which he'd set up as a gym. Off-season was devoted to developing his upper body strength and getting laid. In his very large bed with the leather headboard."I think you're missing your sensitivity gene," one woman teased him after a night together.He hadn't asked her what she meant. He hadn't really wanted to know. But he'd discovered on the long drive from New Orleans that if he took a good look at himself, he didn't like much of what he saw. He was furnished much like his apartment - without warmth or emotion. Now, with his career so abruptly ended, he had two choices. He could turn into a very
"Is that The Cup?" Matt's father pointed. "Dora, don't make him stand there all day. Let's bring it in the kitchen.""Here." Matt lifted it and handed it to his father." How about you holding it for a while."A grin split his father's face as he took the large icon from Matt's hands and carried it into the kitchen. There he set it on the table and ran his fingers over it with reverence. Matt's dad had become a big hockey fan since Matt got drafted, so he knew The Cup's significance. He looked at his son now with pride."Good job, kid." Then he sobered. "But you know we love you whether there's a trophy or not, right?"Something Matt was just coming to realize, to his chagrin and dismay.His mother couldn't seem to stop hugging him. Finally he eased himself from her grasp and sat down in one of the chairs. "Are you alright?" she asked. Then she bit her lip. "I probably shouldn't ask, right?"That made him feel bad. When he was raging in the hospital room, he'd told them in no u