Page 20 of Playing with Temptation

Wade nodded thoughtfully. “’Preciate that, Nate, but the story’s out there now. Nothing either of us can do about it.”

“Believe me, I’d do anything to take that entire night back.”

“Bet you would. Them pretty little things caused you a lot of trouble. Hope you got a helluva night out of it.” Wade chuckled bitterly, referring to the two young women who’d cornered Nate in the VIP section, gotten him riled up again about the loss and recorded his rant.

“Didn’t sleep with either of them. I was so amped and more than a little drunk.” Nate’s face grew hot, thinking of how the blonde and her friend manipulated him. How he stupidly played right into their hands. “About what I said—”

“You meant every word. Just didn’t mean for it to go public.” Wade took a healthy swig of his light beer and set the bottle down. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “I know. You been telling me as much for a while now. If I’d listened earlier, maybe we’d still be in this thing with a shot at winning it all.”

Nate stood, pacing in front of the fireplace. “We all had a hand in it.” He jerked a thumb toward himself. “My screwups cost us big.”

“Kind of you to own up to your part, Nate, but the truth is, those throws weren’t crisp and my timing was off. You wouldn’t have dropped them if I’d done my job right. I was scrambling, anticipating another hit.”

So that was it. Wade’s heart hadn’t been in the game for the entire season. Nate thought Wade had resigned himself to never winning the big one. That he was just riding out the remainder of his contract. Instead, he was afraid of taking another hit like the one that leveled him near the end of the previous season. He’d suffered a concussion and two broken ribs.

Wade’s performance dropped off considerably when he returned. Two years ago, he was one of the top quarterbacks in the league. He could be again.

“All those times I rode you for not being focused…why didn’t you tell me the truth?”

“Who’s gonna trust a QB who admits he’s scared to take another hard hit? Besides, saying it out loud meant admitting it to myself. For me, that was worse than everyone else knowing.”

Nate sank onto the sofa. What could he say?

He’d taken bad hits in his career. Suffered injuries that still nagged him, reminding him the sand was running out in the hourglass of his pro football career. The first few games back were always hard. He was unsure of the injured body part—an ankle and later a knee. Then there was the fear of getting reinjured. For him, it was mind over matter. He focused on his goal: winning a championship. He could spend his retirement resting and nursing his aching joints.

“Look, I know you probably don’t want to hear this, but the Marauders work with a sports psychologist. Maybe—”

“Already tried that.” Wade stood suddenly, agitated. He got two more beers from the fridge, opened them and placed one in front of Nate.

“You’ve already been to Dr. Mays?”

“Didn’t want the team to know I was having panic attacks. My first game back, this big-ass defensive end came at me and I broke into a cold sweat. Heart beating a mile a minute. Happened again in the next game and the next. Went to an independent sports psychologist.”

“Did it help?” Nate gripped his bottle, fully aware of the answer, based on the distressed look on his friend’s face.

“I’m fighting my natural self-preservation instincts every time I step onto that field. Told myself time and again it’s all in my head. That I can get past it.” Wade shrugged again. “But short of taking antianxiety drugs, nothing seems to help. If I gotta drug up just to do my job…maybe it ain’t the right job for me anymore.”

“You’re not thinking about retiring, are you?” It hurt that he was the reason Wade was considering walking away from the game they loved.

“Not like I need the money.” Wade nodded toward the wall of glass at the far end of the room with its view of the mountains and a pristine lake. “We’ve been smart. Saved. Invested. I was trying to hold out and fulfill the final two years of my contract, but maybe it’s time to pack it up and walk away.” Wade was matter-of-fact about the prospect, as if he’d already resigned himself to it.

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