Page 40 of Quarterback Sneak

“Stop flirting with my girlfriend and help me out of the damn car.”

“My, we’re bitchy today,” Howler said, winking at Ivy. He opened the car door wider. A man with a wheelchair stood behind his agent and Sam gripped the door frame. He stood and his knee nearly buckled from beneath him as the intensity of the pain hit him full force. Plopping down in the wheelchair seat, he closed his eyes to gain his equilibrium.

“What the fuck did you do?” Howler asked, waving the orderly away and pushing the wheelchair himself.

“He twisted it on some gravel,” Ivy said. She walked beside them, her head down, arms crossed even tighter.

Rain pelted them, the moist night air a welcome boon to his growing panic. He inhaled the dampness, filling his lungs until they entered the lobby that smelled like astringent. Instead of stopping at the check in desk, he was wheeled into a darkened hallway to an elevator.

Nobody spoke and the quiet was unnerving. Sam felt trapped by his injury, unable to escape without help proved disconcerting. They entered the elevator and still nobody spoke as the door closed. He hated the silence, and wanted to say something but chose to remain quiet. Never let them see your weakness. Another Patrickism.

A gentle hand settled on his shoulder. Ivy. He laid his own fingers on hers, glad she hadn’t taken the hint for selfish reasons entirely. To be fair to her, he should have insisted she leave but she was a grown woman who could make up her own mind. He just prayed she wouldn’t regret her decision.

The elevator door opened and Ivy’s hand beneath his flexed. An elderly couple joined them. The man scooted against the wall, his arm linked with his wife’s. The elevator stopped a second time and Howler exited first, followed by Ivy. The orderly pushed Sam out. Instinct made him glance over his shoulder and he stifled a groan. The man in the elevator was videoing them. Shit.

“Ivy, don’t look back. Howler, step behind her. We’re being filmed.” A surge of something primal hit Sam and he grit his teeth. Why did people constantly feel the need to capture him on video? Because you’re famous and make a living entertaining them. Guilt raised its ugly head. The one thing he’d promised himself was that he’d never take his fame for granted and here he was, being a dick.

The entered an examining room, light blue walls, a computer on a stand in one corner. It was a small room, made even smaller with four people inside. “The nurse will be here in a few minutes,” the orderly said, walking out the door.

Ivy moved to the credenza and fingered a glossy magazine, the strain about her mouth telling.

He’d done this to her. How much had the couple seen? Or guessed at?

“He was looking at me in the elevator but I didn’t see a camera,” Ivy said, worrying her lower lip.

Sam offered her an optimistic smile whereas deep down in his gut he had no idea.

Howler gave Ivy an evaluating stare, raking her from head to toe. Something primal in Sam reacted to the other man’s appraisal and he narrowed his eyes.

“She does look like Gabriela, only prettier.”

“Oh, thank you, that’s so sweet.” Ivy raked a slender hand through her dark hair, a slight flush on her cheeks.

“Are you going somewhere with this?” Sam snapped. Yes, he sounded like a douche but he was unable to help himself. His leg stung but the bite of unwarranted jealousy hurt more.

“Possessive much?” Howler adjusted his jaw, the serious expression on his face belying the teasing remark. They’d been friends for sixteen years and this wasn’t the first time they’d quibbled over a woman but Ivy wasn’t just any woman.

“Apparently, I am.” Sam raised his chin a notch, daring his friend to continue.

“Given the resemblance, I think if you let me call Gabriela’s people, we can deflect the whole girlfriend thing with Ivy. They already pegged her as the woman in the picture and she hasn’t exactly denied it.”

“You said you didn’t date her.” Ivy said, spinning on her heel and glaring at Sam, hurt reflected in her eyes.

Sam reached out and linked his fingers to hers. “I didn’t. She’s gay and we’re just friends. And as for your question, Howler, no. I won’t insult Ivy by having my name linked to another woman’s.”

“Are you sure? She’s a hot commodity like you are. Think of how many kids you can help with the publicity.” Howler said.

A commodity. Sam had resigned himself to the fact that he was a commodity to be bought and sold, a slave to his own success. And like the gladiators in ancient times, the fans were all for him until he fell to the lions. Negativity, something he tried to keep out of his vocabulary. Occasionally it got past his defenses.

“No. I won’t chance it. If you start being dishonest, you have to keep the pretense up. Once the press realizes the truth about Ivy, two things will undoubtedly happen. They will accuse me of having an affair and Ivy will be pegged as the other woman.”

Ivy straightened her shoulders, determination lighting her eyes. “Sam’s right, it will happen eventually and when it does, I’ll deal with it. I’m proud to be with Sam and I want the world to know it.”

Tugging at her wrist, he pulled her down for a kiss. “Ditto.”

“Shit, I’m getting a toothache, you two are so sweet,” Howler mocked.

“Fuck off,” Sam said, winking at Ivy.

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