Page 8 of A Quarterback for Christmas

I’m all too aware that my life trajectory changed the day I accidentally threw a football at her head, and it wasn’t because I met her.

No. It was because I met David Summers.

My mentor. My coach.Herdad.

He took me under his wing when I was just thirteen years old and he hasn’t let me out of his sight since. Not that I’d venture too far away, anyway. I’d tell anyone who asked it was because of football, which seemed all too plausible. He was the reason I got into Tampa Bayshore High and was considered for Division I colleges in the first place, after all. But it was more than that. We had a connection, one that I lost with my own father when I was ten. Coach Summers was there for me when I had no one else to look up to, and for that reason alone, I’d follow him anywhere.

A year before I graduated high school, he was offered the job of head coach at my father’s alma mater, St. Michael’s, so it was a no-brainer that I’d join him. I just didn’t realize his eldest daughter would be following just a year behind. I was under the impression she was moving to London, which suited me just fine. Out of sight, out of mind. But then she waltzed in on the first day of school this year and threw me for a loop.

Bella takes a deep breath, and her snoring gets louder. I know she’s on the verge of waking when she shakes her head, moaning in displeasure.

“Am I in heaven?” Her groggy voice floats through the air, and if you look close enough, you can see the slightest of smiles curving at the corner of her lips. The drugs they gave her must have been damn good because you’d never know her shin bone was sticking out of her body two hours ago.

“Good morning, Sunshine.” I let the words roll off my tongue and watch closely as the calm, serene expression sprawled across her face crinkles. Ah, there’s the scowl I’m used to.

Ticked off and arrogant. The Bella I was always around walked like she had a stick up her ass but refused help to remove it.

The girl had it out for me. Hated me ever since the moment we met, and I’ve always found it a little strange. Not that I boast about my looks or charm, but I’ve never had a shortage of girls showing interest in me over the years.

Not Bella, though.

“Oh, God. If you’re here, that means I’m in hell,” she deadpans. Her eyes are still closed as if she’s avoiding facing the inevitable.

“Is that any way to talk to your savior?” I adjust the fabric of my beanie hat, hating that I left my cap in the car. She lolls her head, and when she finally opens her eyes, she narrows them in my direction.

I push out my tongue, hiding my smirk as I look for Coach’s number on my phone.

“Where am I?” Bella looks around the room like a frightened bird before her eyes land on me.

I stop scrolling on my phone to look at her with a raised brow. “Don’t you remember?”

“I wouldn’t be asking if I did, Drew. Oh god, is this like that Kathy Bates movie? You’ve kidnapped me in a blizzard. You’re going to kill me, aren’t you?” I’d laugh at her hysterics, but knowing her, she’d scream for help, which could lead to a long, awkward conversation with the nurse I introduced myself to earlier.

Shaking my head, I call Coach. “Wow, Belly. I know you hit your head on the ground, but I didn’t think it made you delusional.”

“Why am I here, Drew?” she asks with enough hostility to start a small war.

“You broke your leg,” I answer, using my eyebrows to point at the ferociously neon green cast wrapped around her shin and ankle.

She smacks the cast violently, probably imagining it’s my head. “I can see that, Einstein. But how the hell did I get here?”

I sigh, running a hand through my sandy hair. I wasn’t looking forward to explaining this, considering I already knew she’d blame me for those stupidly high heels and her terrible walking form. “Well, after you so gracefully tripped on the ice, you passed out. The ambulance wasn’t going to come for a few hours, and I couldn’t exactly leave you there to die of hypothermia, so I thought I’d drive you to the hospital instead.”

“McCallister?” Coach’s gruff voice fills the room. I’m not surprised that he answers on the first ring because Bella has him wrapped around her little finger, and she doesn’t even know it.

“Daddy,” Bella yells and leans over, snatching the phone out of my hand.

“Belly, are you okay?” The urgent tone reserved only for his daughters comes out, and I roll my eyes. It’s as if Bella can’t fend for herself. Doesn’t he realize that she’s like a pit bull? Feisty as hell and never backs down. Some might call it arrogance, but I call it being raised well. Yeah, she’s a hard-ass, but I loveher conviction and passion…Even if that passion is directed at hating me.

“I’m fine,” she huffs, pouting her bottom lip, before she looks me up and down with disgust. No surprise she’s acting like I’m the reason she broke her leg. She’d blame me for anything if she had the chance. “I’m just sorry I didn’t come home with you last week.” She flicks at the snot-colored cast, and I hide my smile. Imayhave had a say in the color when we came in. Carrying an unconscious Bella in my arms through the hospital doors meant the nurses immediately thought I was her boyfriend and I didn’t correct them. So when they asked me what Bella’s favorite color was, I couldn’t help myself. St. Michael’s green because she’s such an avid fan of the football team…Not.

Coach sighs. “Don’t worry about that. I’m just glad you’re okay. Thank goodness Drew was there to help you. I’m not sure what I would have done if you’d broken your leg on your own in that blizzard.”

Bella draws her lips into her mouth, keeping her focus on the cast. She refuses to look at me, which I can only assume is because she’ll have to thank me, and that’s worse than losing to a girl like her. “He said he’ll look after you until I get there.”

“Look after me?” Her voice hikes and she rolls onto her side as much as possible with that cast holding her down. I’m guessing she has no idea that her gown doesn’t have a back since she’s flashing her yellow thong and very peachy ass in my direction. I drag my gaze away from her because I hate seeing the harsh purple bruise covering half her body. That fall was avoidable; if I’d gotten out of the car sooner, she’d be alright.

“I don’t need anyone to look after me,” she whispers sharply. “Especially not Drew.” I’d be offended if I wasn’t already expecting that reaction. “I can just hang out in my dorm on my own. No big deal.”

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