Page 46 of Chasing Football Dreams

She turned at my voice and I saw her sheepish smile she tried to hide from me. “I couldn’t sleep. Every time I close my eyes, subconsciously I dream about that night and try to unravel his face,”

“And then what?” I pushed off the threshold and made my way down to her.

She stomped her foot on the ground like a toddler and dropped her head with a sigh. “Then I can move forward. Every day I have to live in fear of him jumping out of some bush and shoving me into the boot of his car or worse hurting you or Eliza or someone I care about. I won’t be able to live with myself if something has to happen to you or anybody but most importantly you,”

Her voice sounded strained but what alerted me by far was that she looked worn out. I wasn’t used to Zoey looking this close to giving up.

I engulfed her in a hug and lifted her, letting her legs wrap around my torso. She dropped her head on my shoulder as ifshe let me carry her full weight—not her physical weight but the weight on her shoulders that was dragging her down. She was finally letting me in and let me take care of her.

I carried her back into the house and up to our bedroom. I lowered her onto the bed, cradling her in my arms when I laid down beside her.

“What can I do to help you?” I asked, dragging my fingers through her hair and placing kisses on her head.

“A distraction. Something that would stop my mind from overthinking,” She muttered against my chest.

I pushed my hand down her back until it rested on the roundness of her butt. I gave it a soft tap before squeezing it. Her moan in my neck encouraged me to continue my exploration. I slipped my hand under her shorts and found her lips when her head fell back. She laid her hand on my chest, traveling down to my shorts until they reached their destination.

I moaned into her mouth when my hips jerked forward when she gave a soft stroke. Her hand slipped under my shorts giving me a pleasure that had me completely at her mercy. I laid back when she pushed me onto my back and straddled my waist.

I didn’t hold back when I grabbed her tank top and pushed it over her head—not missing a beat to cup her breasts in my hands. I loved the sounds she made when I rolled her nipples between my thumbs or how she wiggled against me to ride the pleasure.

I halted when I saw tears in her eyes when she sat up and I thought I did something wrong. I sat up, cradling her face in my hands.

“I can’t lose you…I just can’t,” She stammered, the tears flowing down her cheeks.

“You won’t lose me, Zoey,” I assured her.

“But what if he finds us, and hurts you to get to me? Duncan, I can’t…”

I kissed her to silence the words that she wanted to speak. I didn’t want her to even begin to think of such nonsense. “We will figure it out. Nothing is going to happen to me or you. I never break a promise,”

I looked into her eyes and spoke the next words with determination. “I am not going to let anyone take you away from me,”

Chapter Twenty-Three

There was a time when I believed the world was out to get me. I firmly believe my past will keep me exactly where I used to be. I saw no way out from who I was or that I would forever have a Diner job.

I dreamed like any other but I never possessed the power or determination to chase down my dreams. I let weakness cloud my judgment and I let the opinions of others push me down.

If someone told me months ago that I would control the offense team and date Duncan Jones, I would have laughed and not taken them seriously.

Or I am the daughter of the NFL Hall of Fame Shane Martin.

I stood in my old dorm room taking every memory of me and how I used to live the life of someone who has already given up on their dreams. I walked up to the wall where the poster of Shane Martin looked back at me and I smiled at how I sat nights in front of this wall talking to him like he could give me advice. Not knowing I would be able to get advice from him in person.

I wouldn't do anything different. My life was the reflection of the harsh truth of what selfish human beings looked like. They always won but fate brought me back to my parents.

How can a Diner Girl, a nobody who always had bad luck on her side get so damn lucky?

I pulled the Shane Martin poster from my wall and folded it up before gently placing it into my bag. I packed everything up in my room when I pulled my father's playbook out from underneath my old bed.

I lowered my ass to the ground looking at the playbook as if I just struck gold. I flipped the book open glancing at the plays scribbled in my father's handwriting. This was my bible when I was a kid. I would stare at these plays and memorize them but I would still look at them wishing my father was alive.

I just never thought that the big man upstairs still handed out miracles even to the non-believers.

I pulled the photo of me from the flip and stared at the photo of me when I was four years old, wearing my green tutu and socks that looked like footballs.

I wish I could remember what it was like to be that young and have Shane take me to the stadium, teach me plays, and chase me around on the field.

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