The roar of the crowd should be invigorating to me. It's my first professional game as a starter.I was called into the coach's office when we got here and given the news. Shivel is out. I'm in. He's been traded to California for a couple of practice players that will be here next week. I'm pretty sure most of us would agree we got the better end of that trade.So I should be excited. Instead, my mind is everywhere except on the game ahead of me. Actually, that's not true. My mind is on a certain brunette that I'm praying I'll see in the stands today. Tiffany's been ignoring my calls and texts all week. Can't say I'm surprised. I wouldn't answer any of my calls, either. But I texted her that I had left tickets for her at the will call office."She'll be here," Christian says with a clap on my shoulder. We're waiting in the tunnel for our names to be called as the rest of the team runs through to the field. I nod in acknowledgement of his comment, but it doesn't make me any less anxio
I sit down in the red chair across from his, elbows on my knees, hands clasped. While I wouldn't change what I did, I've never been one to put anything before the job at hand. Especially when we're in the middle of a game. There's a strange amount of shame running through me even though I know I'd do it again if put in the same position.We sit in silence for what seems like hours. Finally, I look up. Coach is rocking back and forth in his chair, fingers steepled and resting on his lips. He's just looking at me. Not even staring. More like trying to get his thoughts in order before he lays into me. I'd rather him yell."Which is more important… the girl or the game?" I was expecting some harsh words but nothing could have prepared me for that question."W… what?" I stutter. I don't even know how to answer.He waves me off like this should be an easy question. "If you had to choose one and lose the other, which is more important?"I shake my head slightly. "I… I don't know how to answer
I swing the door open when he knocks. As hurt as I've been over the last several days, his public proclamation of love went a long way to heal some of those wounds. We still have some things to discuss, but risking his new starting position just to apologize to me tells me how serious he is."What the… what are you doing?" I ask. Rowen is standing in front of me holding flowers, helium balloons, a card, and what looks like a big box of chocolates. "You know it's not my birthday, right?"He gives me a sheepish smirk. "I wasn't really sure how to go about apologizing to you. So I may have gone a little overboard.""Ya think?""I wanted to cover all my bases."I grab him by the arm and pull him towards me. "Get in here." I slam the door behind us and take the flowers from him. He follows me into the kitchen while I pull out the only vase I own. "How many games are you suspended for?""Just two," he says as puts all his presents on the counter. "And a five thousand dollar fine."I grimace.
The feel of her rubbing up against me wakes me up. It takes a second to remember where I am. But then I feel the warm body snuggled up next to me, I breathe in the scent of her hair, and it all comes back to me. And I smile."Why are you rubbing your ass against my cock?" I say into her hair, refusing to move."Why are you rubbing your cock against my ass?" she replies."I wasn't. I woke up because you're turning me on."I feel, rather than see, her smile. "In my defense, when I woke up, I had your morning wood poking into my backside. It was really sexy."I chuckle and then sigh. "What time is it?"She lifts her head to look at the clock. "Six-thirty.""I can't believe we fell asleep so early last night.""I can. I didn't sleep very well for close to a week. I was tired."I hold her tighter against me. "I'm so sorry, babe.""Stop, Rowen. It's over. I wanna move on.""Okay. What time do you have to be at work?""Not until one-thirty. You?""Eight."She raises her head and tries to twis
"Good afternoon, Caleb," I say, a very relaxed smile on my face. It may have been a few hours ago, but there is definitely something to say about oral sex starting the day off right."Hey, Tiffany. You have fun at the soccer game last night?" He looks over at me slyly as I grab my mail out of my box."I take it you saw the clip?""Everyone saw the clip." He swivels his chair to look at me. "It's only been running on ESPN for the last eighteen hours.""Well I guess that's one way to put myself on the radar over there.""I guess it's after the soccer game that is responsible for the big smile on your face?""Caleb," I say with a quirk of my eyebrow. "That is none of your business.""Oh, come on. I didn't even know you were dating the guy and all the sudden he's jumping into the stands to make out with you in the middle of the game?" His true journalist instincts are showing, but right now, I'm keeping my mouth shut."Let it go, Caleb.""Can't do that Tiffany.""Yes you can. Or else…""Or
Three rings and my mother's face pops up on the monitor in front of me."Hey, Mam.""Hey, Rowen. How are you feeling?" She settles back onto her chair and takes a sip of her tea."Sore. So, so sore.""Ye should be after that stunt you pulled the other day.""Hi to you, too, Da." He pulls up a chair next to my mam and sits down, looking like he's about to give me a lecture."Care to explain yer behavior?" he asks as he crosses his arms over his chest.It doesn't matter that I'm an adult. It doesn't matter than I'm a professional. To him, I'm still his kid and no paycheck, endorsement or age is going to keep him from ripping me a new one. I sigh in resignation. "I let them get in my head.""It's about that lass, it's it. About that groupie?""Ryan," my mother chides gently, putting a hand on his arm."No," he says. "He was doing just fine until she came along. And now he's throwin' punches and makin' a fool o' himself. What am I supposed to think?""What you're supposed to think is that
The story then cuts away to me sitting on a couch in the PR office. "Rowen!" my mother screeches. "I can't believe you wore that horrible cap on TV!"My dad snickers. "You know I hate my hair, Mam.""Your hair is your trademark!""No, it's Da's trademark. That's why I wear my beanie."She rolls her eyes and stops talking so she can keep listening.The reporter talks about our family and shows some old clips of my dad playing. There's even a couple of pictures of us in one of the European stadiums when I was a kid."Aw," my mom whispers. "I remember that day." She looks almost misty-eyed seeing my dad in his glory days, me a little bitty squirt.And then the story shifts to present day and some of the interview I did yesterday."Mid-fielder," the reporter says to me."Yeah," I answer with a nod."I think a lot of people would assume you would be a striker like your dad.""Yeah, I get that a lot.""So why such a different position?""I think at first I was trying to distance myself from
I love it when Steve is on vacation. Because I, the lowly associate producer, get to be the producer for the night.There's nothing like the feeling of writing the entire sports segment, making sure all the graphics are correct, ensuring all the editing is done, and sitting in the production booth producing my five minute block of a news cast. I smile as I think about the five o'clock show and how smooth it ran. Mannie, our main sports anchor, delivered everything smoothly. The videos rolled on queue. The way I had stacked the stories flowed seamlessly. I'm really proud of myself. And I hope Rowen was watching. He knows how excited I've been about Steve taking a few days off. I hope he's proud of me, too."News Four Sports, this is Tiffany," I say into the phone absentmindedly as I pick up the phone that just rang. I'm scrolling through the sports wires seeing if there are any updated scores on some of the college games we've been following."Fucking groupie whore," the voice on the
The snick of the lock unlatching when I wave my key fob in front of the door is the first real sign that life is going back to normal. Well, as normal as life can be after a new little human has come into the world. But as I step through the door and into the newsroom, I realize nothing has changed. The scanners are still squawking. Reporters are still making calls and typing. Televisions still glow with every local station and CNN ready to be monitored. The only difference is the person at the assignment desk."Hi Tom," I greet as I grab a huge stack of mail I'll need to sort through upstairs. There's too much to go through down here."Tiffany." He tips his head at me and goes back to his business. Tom took over for Caleb when he moved upstairs. He's a little older than everyone else in the newsroom. His hair and neatly trimmed beard are almost gray. He's pleasant enough, just sticks to himself. We definitely don't have the same kind of rapport Caleb and I use to have.That also mean
Rowen makes sure we're all settled before kissing me on the top of the head and throwing on his sweats. "What do you want to eat? My mam brought bangers and mash.""I'll leave that for you," I joke, knowing it's his favorite. "But do we still have any of that grilled chicken salad? I don't know why but it sounds really good.""Yep. I'll go grab it for you."The last three months have been an adjustment, but overall, it's gone really well. Cace is a great baby, but I didn't expect anything less with him being Rowen's child. Well, that's not exactly true. A part of me always remembered Ryan is his grandfather, so I know there's some ornery in there waiting to come out. But for the most part, he's very docile. Cries when he's hungry, fusses when he's wet, but otherwise even-tempered. And my in-laws have been wonderful. Sure, the men argue all the time about the safest way to hold the baby or the best cleaning products. Denise and I just laugh at the ridiculousness and let them hash it ou
"Keep doing that," I moan, grabbing Rowen's hair and pulling him closer to my core. His tongue still does magical things to my lady parts and today, he's going to town. Licking, nipping, and sucking as he inserts two fingers inside me, hitting just the right spot. "Oh, that's it. Right there… ohgod…"My orgasm hits me fast and hard, just the way I like it these days. He continues to suck on my clit as the waves overtake me, riding me to that sated feeling I love. But he's not done yet.As soon as I've come back down to earth, he kisses up my body, paying special attention to the scar that now mars my abdomen. When I look at my stomach, I see flabby skin that hasn't tightened up yet and a knife wound. But Rowen tells me it's beautiful. That it's a reminder of the sacrifice I made to give him the best gift he's ever received - our son. Coming from anyone else, I'd say they were full of shit. But coming from Rowen, I know he means every word. Because of it, I still feel beautiful. It al
"I know you'll be here when you can, Mom," I say through FaceTime on my phone. "Really, all we're going to do for the next few weeks is sleep and eat anyway. Maybe bathe."Stroking the top of my son's head, I watch as he suckles on my breast. Yes, the dull pain of breastfeeding is there, but that doesn't take away the surreal feeling of being a new mom. It's amazing."I know." My mom sighs. "I'm just mad at myself. Of all the times to fall down some steps and break an ankle, this is the worst."I giggle lightly. "I still can't believe you did it at the gym.""And right after my kickboxing class too! I had just shown everyone what a badass I am, and three steps took me out.""Any muggers with ill intentions better beware of running into you in a back alley. Unless there are stairs involved." "Well, hopefully in the next few weeks, the doctor will clear me for travel. Then I'll be on the first plane there.""Sounds good to me." Baby Cace squeaks and pulls away from my breast, nuzzling h
The thoughts are overwhelming. I've never been this happy in my life, and I've only seen him for a split second. Lifting my head, I look around trying to catch another glimpse. Apparently, I'm not as subtle as I think I am."Would you like to see your son? You can go over there."Nodding, I stand up and follow the person over to a small table where my son is lying down, clearly unhappy by being poked and prodded. I don't blame him. I wouldn't like if all my glory was on display in front of these strangers either."Can I… can I touch him?" I ask tentatively, not sure what I'm allowed to do right now."Absolutely," the person says. "And talk to him. Babies like familiar voices."Slowly, I get closer, still in awe that I'm looking at my son. My son. It feels like I'm walking through a dream. Reaching down, I touch his tiny hand which immediately stretches and grabs my finger. The contact makes me suck in a breath. He's real. This is real. It's not a dream at all."Hello there, mo mhac. I'
I have dreamed about this day for months. Thought about every scenario on how it could happen. Planned for any situation. Prepared myself in every possible way.Except this one.Not one part of me anticipated I'd be standing in the hallway of the hospital wearing drab green scrubs with a matching surgical cap, waiting to join my wife in an operating room. And yet here I am, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't more nervous than I've ever been in my life.It's not just the operation. Yes, that is my immediate concern. As much as I like Dr. Hermann, he's getting ready to cut Tiffany open and pull our son out through a gaping wound. I'm sure there's more to it than that, but it basically boils down to that, and it's scary. What if he cuts the wrong part and he can't stop the bleeding? What if he accidentally cuts my child? What if she gets a major infection? The horrific possibilities are terrifying.Taking a breath to refocus my thoughts, I try to remember all the positives. Tiffany won't
I can practically feel his surprise when he shifts, situating us face-to-face. Thankfully, my doctor and my father-in-law have started chatting again, so Rowen and I can have some privacy. "Tiffany, this is just a change in the play. You of all people know how easily it can happen. I know this isn't soccer, but it's not that different. We go into every match with a plan, but sometimes it doesn't go like we expected. There's an injury or a new goalie." I smirk at his reference to the issues the team had early in the season. "The objective is always the same, but how we get there doesn't matter as long as we do. It's the same thing here. It doesn't matter how he gets here as much as it matters that it happens safely for both of you."I sniff again, but my tears have all but dried up. "We've been deflected."He nods and smiles at me. "Exactly. It's a change of play. But in the end, when we're holding him and taking care of him, we'll forget about everything except that we won."I chuckle
A low murmuring pulls me from sleep. I know it's only been a couple hours, but I feel so much better than I did. Damn that epidural for being as amazing as everyone said it would be.Peeling my eyes open, I roll slightly onto my back to see Dr. Hermann and Ryan chatting like old friends. A few seconds of eavesdropping and I finally catch the source of their newfound connection - Ireland. Apparently, Dr. Hermann spent a summer backpacking through Europe and caught a couple games when Ryan was in his prime and playing in front of his hometown fans. I'm sure the tales are tall right now, but at least their relaxed chatter means nothing wrong is happening on my side of the room.Glancing around, I finally catch sight of my husband who is sleeping soundly. I'm glad to see him getting some rest. He's been trying so hard to be strong for me. It's not gone unnoticed. But at last count he'd been awake for thirty hours. It was wearing on him."Ah, iníon sa dlí, yer awake."Ryan steps toward me a
Another eight hours. Another one centimeter dilated. Almost. I may be rounding up out of my own feeling of desperation. This entire experience is not at all like I expected. Not that I knew what was supposed to happen. Sure, we'd taken a birthing class one Saturday, but that was months ago when our schedules allowed us both to be there. And it never told us what would happen if Tiffany's body refused to do what it should. At least Tiffany's sleeping now. About four hours after the Pitocin began, she started crying, saying she couldn't do it anymore. She'd been awake for almost twenty-four hours and had been in some form of labor for over half of it. Plus, once the drugs kicked in, her contractions went from being painful to downright excruciating. It didn't take much convincing for her to finally decide to have the epidural. But it did take my Mam physically moving me out of the way to help her through all her fears - fear of a needle in her spine, fear of the drugs hurting the baby,