Win Big: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (4 page)

I
received
a phone call from Dr. Jeffries around three o’clock on Monday afternoon. Kristy was at a meeting to be assigned an unplanned tutoring student due to some kind of mix-up, so I was alone in my dorm room, researching the school’s baseball team players, their stats, past injuries, that sort of thing. I knew most of them already, but liked to be on top of the people I worked with.

When my phone rang and I saw it was my department head, my stomach did a flip. Trouble was brewing. Why else would he call me? And in the middle of an afternoon where I wasn’t expected anywhere? Come to think about it, this was actually the first time I’d ever heard his voice over the phone.

“Hello?” I answered.

“Samantha?”

“Hi Dr. Jeffries. Yes it’s me.”

“I’m sorry, but an item has come up that I need to discuss with you.” He sounded tense. He might as well have said,
we have a problem
. I could hear it in his voice. This was bad news along the lines of end of the world stuff.

I slumped a little in my desk chair. “What is it?”

“One of the top-tier football players had an injury during a practice yesterday.”

I frowned. “They’re still practicing? Even in the off-season?”

“Yes. You know they condition year-round. This is one of our graduating players, one who shows promise for a top ten or top fifteen NFL draft pick come spring…which is why I’m calling you.”

“Me? I’m not sure why, Professor,” I stuttered out. This was football he was talking about. In my mind, I wasn’t interested. “It’s good to know you think that highly of me.” I was at a loss, just blabbering, hoping he wasn’t calling for the reason I thought he might be calling. He didn’t randomly contact people to report injuries, not when said person wasn’t involved in the sport in question.

“It’s Evan Marshall, the wide receiver,” he sighed out. My eyebrows shot up. No wonder he was so tense. Marshall was one of the school’s star athletes, and considered a shoe-in for the NFL. The school was dying to get a few more of its students on an NFL roster.

“What happened to him?”

“X-rays and other diagnostics by the medical staff have confirmed he has a grade two groin tendon strain down his left leg. It’s moderate to severe.”

“Ouch,” I said, feeling sorry for the guy, if only because I was sure he had to be in severe pain.

“Yes. We’re sending him in for a few more tests to be sure there isn’t any surrounding damage.”

“I see.” I went quiet. I wouldn’t lead the doctor into asking what I knew he was about to ask. I wanted to hear it from his mouth before I politely turned him down.

“He’s been assigned a certified athletic trainer as well as a graduate assistant in between follow-ups with the physician team, but they will need more help. This is a five to seven day a week assignment until the combine. A two-person support team won’t be enough.”

Dr. Jeffries paused. I knew what was coming. I wasn’t going to bait myself by offering to help. If they were short on football support, the soccer student core should have been the next source of help, then basketball, track and field, cross country, volleyball, maybe even golf. But not baseball, and not me.

“They’re going to need some more help.”

“I’m sure he does, if he’s as talented as they say he is.”

The doctor laughed. “You don’t know?”

“Do you mean how talented he is? No, not personally. I’ve never seen them play.”

He was silent, then asked, “You’re kidding me, right?”

I genuinely laughed at his reaction. “Is that so hard to believe, Dr. Jeffries?”

“I was under the impression that every student at this school made it a habit to attend every football game, is all.”

“There may be a few of us abstainers around. You’re not wrong, though. The campus is eerily quiet on Saturday afternoons in the fall. Everyone makes the mass exodus and ends up at the stadium for home games. Most everyone.” I laughed again. That was my nerves about the direction this conversation was taking.

“I’m sure it is. Anyway, like I said, he needs the best support on his rehabilitation and recovery team.” I heard the deep breath he took through the phone’s speaker. I closed my eyes, knowing what was coming. “You’re the best I have.”

“No way,” I said. It fell out of my mouth before I could stop myself.

“What?” he snapped.

“I’m so very sorry, Dr. Jeffries, but I really can’t. I don’t mean to come off as rude, but you’ve just assigned me to the baseball team. I can’t manage the athletic therapy for that team while doing a gig for a football player. I can’t do both. I need time to sleep and eat. Oh, and to study, of course.” I chuckled nervously. He didn’t join me.

“Samantha, this isn’t a request. And I’ll have to postpone your assignment to the baseball team until Marshall is back off the injured list.”

Oh no, he didn’t.

Did he just…?

He couldn’t have.

My heart sank down to my shoes. I didn’t believe it.

“Is this a mistake, Dr. Jeffries? I mean, are you sure? This doesn’t seem fair, does it?”

“You’re right. It’s not, but things like this happen all the time. I’m sorry, Samantha. I understand this isn’t the assignment you were hoping for. I’m sure it’s not the way Evan Marshall saw things going, either. Sometimes we have to make the best of a situation even if we wish it wasn’t so.”

“I understand that part. Honestly I do, but you have to know I’ve worked so hard to get the baseball assignment. To have it taken away now…gosh, please don’t do this. It’s what I’ve been working for since I started as a freshman. There has to be someone else in the class or from the staff who can take this on?”

“There isn’t anyone else, and to be clear, I’m not taking anything away from you.” His tone became more curt. I was pushing the boundaries in this power dynamic, but I had to try.

“But sir—”

“Samantha, I’m only removing you from the baseball crew until Evan is off the injured list. You can go back to baseball when he’s better.”

“But…but…who knows how long that will take?” I asked, searching desperately for a way out. I squeezed my pen so hard, I thought I might snap it in two.

“You have six weeks.”

I nearly fell out of my desk chair. “Six weeks? That long? Why such a specific deadline?”

“Because the combine is in seven. You do know what the NFL’s National Scouting Combine is, right?”

My heart hardened, and I scowled. Years of hard work on my part meant nothing when compared to a football player’s potential career. “This…I can’t…I wish I could explain…oh my God…”

“Now there’s no need to panic over this. Take it for the opportunity that it is.”

“I just thought I’d have more of a say for such a big move. This change can affect my opportunities in the baseball world, Dr. Jeffries.”

He sighed. “I think it can only help demonstrate your versatility. Look, my decision is final. I expect you in my office at nine o’clock tomorrow morning, where you’ll meet with the lead certified trainer and later on, the two of you will meet with Evan at his dorm or wherever he lives. His address is on file. In the meantime, I want you to prepare by drafting a plan for his treatment and rehab, to demonstrate to the team lead what you’re bringing to the table. Remember, it’s a grade two strain. Left leg. I’ll have more information for you once the remaining results come in from the head physician. See you tomorrow, Samantha.”

Then he hung up.

I sat there for a solid minute with the phone to my ear. Just like that, my plans were toast. Everything I had worked toward was going down the tube and I had no say in the matter. I had to temporarily wave my assignment goodbye. The one I had earned was going to fall to someone else.

I dropped my phone to the bed and buried my head in my hands. I was crying by the time Kristy walked in.

“Oh sweetie…what’s wrong?” She rushed over to me, putting an arm around my shoulders. “Talk to me. What is it?”

“I h—hate football!” I sobbed.

“Oh, no. I’m sorry. Is it your dad again?”

“No, not this time.” I sat up, wiping my cheeks with my hands. I gave her the brief rundown of my conversation with Dr. Jeffries. She clicked her tongue sympathetically, then got up for some tissues and a bottle of water.

“You poor thing. I’m so sorry he’s screwing you over like this.” She sat beside me on my bed and put her arm over my shoulder. “Is there anything you can do?”

“I tried. I told him I didn’t have the time, I reminded him how hard I worked to get this assignment. It didn’t matter. He wants me to drop everything to help out this Evan Marshall jerk face.” I blew my nose and took a long drink of water, trying to get myself back in order.

“Back up a second. Did you just say you’ll be working with Evan Marshall?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Whoa, momma.” Kristy fanned herself. I shot her a withering look.

“You’re not helping, friend.”

“Sorry. Couldn’t help myself,” she answered and gave me a shrug. Kristy crossed our tiny dorm room to find her phone in her bag. “You could do worse, you know. He’s a football God. Six feet four inches tall, gorgeous face, wavy brown hair, dark chocolate brown eyes and a scorching hot body. His ink is so hot I’m sure the ladies line up to lick it. He’s sexy as hell with a devilish reputation. Haven’t you seen him before?”

“Maybe, but I don’t care. I’m tired of having to put everything aside for football! First at home with Dad, and now my career is out the door, just like that. Why do they get everything? More funding, the best therapists, perks up the ass around campus, even the best uniforms.”

“We live in the south, honey. It’s football country. We are all about football. You know that.” She frowned sympathetically. “You know that better than anybody else.”

“Don’t I, though?” I wanted to scream.

“Hey. I need to tell you something.” She sat beside me again with an urgent expression on her face. “You don’t make it your business to keep up on the guys on the football team in particular, so I think I should tell you. Watch yourself around him.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean he’s a total dog. Half the girls on the campus sororities have slept with him.”

“You’re exaggerating, aren’t you?” My tears were forgotten now. I listened carefully.

She nodded. “Maybe a little, but not with this part. He’s into all sorts of kinky stuff, and everyone says he’s a control freak. Like one of the girls down the hall was blabbering on that she was with him a few nights ago.”

“With him, how?”

“Like up in his room getting screwed out of her mind at some party the frat house threw to welcome students back.” Kristy rolled her eyes, pulling her long blonde hair back in a ponytail. To some, she looked the part of the typical sorority member who would adorn those jock’s mattresses. She was a member of a sorority, but had vowed never to live in one of their houses on campus after junior year.

Dorm life wasn’t that much better, but the pressures of keeping up with the insane fashion and social norms of a Southern sorority was over the top for most sane, grounded women. Kristy was the most grounded of them all, no matter what people thought. That blonde mane, those long legs, big boobs and all the makeup she wore on her already stunning face made people on campus jump to the wrong conclusions. At heart, my best friend was a force to be reckoned with, which was why we got along.

“What did she say?”

“According to her, he pretty much ordered her to go down on him, then he spanked her and they did the nasty. After he was finished he told her to put her clothes on and get back down to the party.”

“That’s harsh.” I put a hand over my mouth, although it did sound pretty hot, getting spanked like that. I kept that part to myself. “Hold on. Are you talking about Tina?”

“Yeah. How did you know?”

“No one else on this floor would do something like that. There’s only four of us up here who are single, for starters. You and I wouldn’t give this Evan dude the time of day. So that leaves Tina and Brandy. And everyone knows Brandy is into Tre, but she’d never step inside that frat house or any other ‘den of iniquity’, as she likes to call it.”

“Well okay. I guess I’m not great at keeping her secret. Just don’t tell her I said anything. Anyhow, she said she never saw him again that night, except toward the end of the party when he was making out with another girl in some corner, then took
that
girl to her room.”

“Ew! That’s low. He dropped her like that?”

“Like yesterday’s news…like a used, no-good snatch.” She shook her head. “Yet another reason why I don’t live in the sorority house, and don’t go to a lot of those parties. That’s all it is.”

“But to drop her like that? At the same party? You’re right. He’s a pig.”

“I know. Believe me, he’s gonna try to work his charm on you, girlfriend. You’d better be careful.”

I blushed and looked at my hands. “You know he won’t have much luck there.” Kristy was one of the less than five people in the world who knew with a hundred percent certainty that I was still a virgin.

“Honey, you’ve gotta lose it sometime. All I’m saying is, don’t lose it to him. He’s not worth it. And don’t let your prof get you down. He’s just another shining example of men thinking they can tell women what to do. They’d never just up and reassign one of the guys like that, not unless they were already chomping at the bit to be assigned to the football team. Bastard.”

Kristy was a diehard feminist—another aspect of her personality that most people would never guess in a million years. In her world, everything boiled down to gender, and women were naturally getting the short end of the deal, so she took it upon herself to speak up for all women, whether there was inequity or not.

“I just hope this doesn’t screw up my chances of getting hired by a baseball team after I graduate. Who am I kidding? Of course it will. He wants me to work with this Evan guy for six weeks.”

“Try a full semester tutoring one of those meatheads. Mind you, he’s a cute meathead.”

“Wait, what? You’re tutoring one of them?”

“Yeah. My teaching gig got fucked up at the last minute because of some union contract negotiations going on at the private high school I was assigned to.”