Page 38 of Quarterback Sneak

“We’d better get out of here,” Sam said, disappointment in his tone. He rested back in his seat and stifled a yawn.

Body throbbing, she ached to have him finish what he started. Unfortunately, there was a little thing called the public might get an eyeful. With Sam’s celebrity, some eager fan might film them having sex and leak it to the news. On the bright side, she might get her own reality TV show. “Let me start this puppy up then. Mama needs to get her speed on.”

“Just don’t let mama get her speeding ticket on.”

Sam was asleep the instant the car hit the freeway, head back and mouth slightly parted. Thin red scratches crisscrossed his arms, and the angry rash on his shoulders exposed by the white tank had faded to a dull red.

Ivy reached out and ran her hand across his temple, a surge of affection sending warm chills throughout her entire being. Her chest swelled with an emotion she dared not study too closely. Fear of falling so hard she couldn’t pick herself up rested deep in her mind and she wished she could shake the feeling.

One of her favorite songs came on the radio and she sang the refrain. Each lyric spoke to her. Confusion. Hope. Love. She’d experienced these emotions with Kevin and he’d been an abject disappointment. Sam brought forth each sentiment except they seemed magnified in intensity. Either love or her physical attraction for Sam brought her to this place. Something special about him had spoken to her from the very beginning and the harder she tried to ignore the truth, the more it persisted.

I’d do anything for you. It had taken a lot out of Ivy to admit the truth about Alice and her outrageous proposal. Even harder for Ivy was the ability to ask for help. After Kevin, she’d vowed never to be dependent on anyone again. A foolish vow. Nobody could walk alone, not even Sam.

The song ended and the reporter announced the inevitable traffic jam as the road ahead became a sea of red taillights. She sighed and slowed the car, damn she hated Seattle traffic. She peeked at Sam who lay slouched in his seat, right leg straight, left bent to balance his weight. He had nice legs, long with solidly muscled thighs.

The car’s sensor moved the brake pedal, startling her. She slammed on the brakes, glad the car was paying attention to the traffic.

Shifting in the seat, Sam stretched his left leg. Ivy swallowed at the sight of his right knee, swollen to the size of a cantaloupe. No, no, no, I broke Sam. Whipping the car over a lane, she exited the freeway and pulled into the nearest parking lot of a restaurant.

Sam shifted in his seat and removed his sunglasses, sleepy eyes meeting hers. “Good, food, I’m starving.”

Shaking her head, she placed her hand on his arm. “Look at your knee. I didn’t see it because your other leg was blocking it.”

Frowning, he squinted down at the angry red injury and ran his thumb along the puffy flesh.

“Does it hurt?” she asked, alarm bells ringing in her brain. She had her fair share of injuries but his leg surpassed a mere sprain.

“It’s tight but it doesn’t hurt.” He reached into the backpack again and pulled out a small plastic bag. Squeezing, the bag until a tiny popping sound expanded the disposable icepack, he settled it on his knee.

Per usual, he exhibited no stronger emotion than calmness, which frustrated her to no end. “Really? You don’t have to be macho with me. I’ve had enough injuries in the past to know it can hurt like hell.”

“I’m not being macho. It throbs but nothing I can’t handle.” He relaxed his leg and noticeably winced, giving lie to his claim.

Rolling her eyes, she licked dry lips. “You must’ve had this happen a few times. You’ve been playing sports since you were young. I read somewhere concussions and knee injuries were an occupational hazard for quarterbacks.”

“They are. I’ve been lucky. I’ve merely had minor strains.” He shrugged and reached for the backpack in the rear seat.

Large drops of rain hit the windshield as angry clouds rolled in, blocking the sun. Of course, they were talking about her perfect boyfriend. She felt instantly guilty for the bitchy sentiment. “So what do you want to do? I saw a hospital sign. Should we go to the emergency room and have it checked out.”

He took out the first aid kit and retrieved some pain meds. “Or we could go home and see if the swelling goes down.”

Gloom settled over the landscape, the smell of ozone strong. Tapping her fingers against the steering wheel, she shook her head. “If it was swollen a little, I’d say ok but your knee is swollen a lot. Stop being so stubborn. If you don’t want to go to the E.R., does the team have a doctor you can see?”

Sam cast an exasperated stare from out of the corner of his eye.

She narrowed her own, daring him to argue further.

“Fine. Let me text Howler and see if he can get me in to see the team doctor,” he said. From the curtness of his tone, he thought she was exaggerating.

Perhaps she was, but at this point, she didn’t care. “I wasn’t joking at the parking lot. If people found out I was responsible for your injury, I’d be in big trouble.”

He finished typing out the text and hit send, a soft swoosh sounding from the phone’s speaker. “You didn’t injure me and don’t you dare blame yourself for this.”

Easier said than done.

His expression remained calm, too calm and Ivy inspected his profile in the dimming light for a crack in his demeanor. “It’s ok if you’re worried. I would be. While not to the same extent, I depend on my legs for my living.”

“I’m not worried,” he said, offering her an encouraging smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes. “As quarterback people depend on me to keep a cool head in the midst of chaos.”

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