Rooster: A Secret Baby Sports Romance (22 page)

I hadn’t planned to tell him until later that night, or even after the final if they’d gone all the way, but I couldn’t help myself. I was shocked he was asking me to marry him in the first place, even though he’d been joking around about it for weeks.

“I’ve got a secret too”, I say, and before I even tell him, he somehow knows.

Rory throws me into the air, spins me around and can’t get the smile off his face. The crowd is going wild already, whooping and cheering as though we’ve won the whole thing, and then Rory grabs the microphone again and addresses the world.

“We’ve got something else we’d like to say”, Rory begins. I feel hot inside, as terrified as I was the first time, but never more sure It’ll be alright.

“Kowalski”, he says. “Get ready. You’re going to be a Godfather.”

“Fuck”, Kowalski says, and the whole stadium erupts in cheer.

We’ve got a long road ahead, but right now we’ve got to focus on the family and the visa renewal application. Francis has already offered Rory a contract, and this time, if he accepts it and the work visa gets renewed, we won’t need to do anything for a full five years.

He hasn’t turned his back on his own country or his own sport, and there is nothing to say he won’t return to either of them, but with one baby already and another one on the way, I’ve never seen Rory happier.

I’ve never been happier either. Sometimes I wonder what would have happened that day if Rory had never approached me, or if I’d never gone out at all, or if Francis had never recruited him for the Rangers, or if that piece of paper had said denied instead of granted and then I think, fuck it, it did, and here we are, it was obviously meant to be.

Even April approves. Those suspicious,
make sure he’s right for you, big sister
eyes have long been replaced by the
this guy is perfect and it makes me so happy to see you happy
eyes.

I don’t see her as much as I used to, but we’ve both got new priorities. As soon as we got the news about Rory’s visa, we found a new apartment near the ground, big enough for all of us and Cory moved in with April. I know she’s gutted not to live with me anymore, but at least she now no longer has to put up with sleepless nights of Oscar crying.

She’s also thrilled to bits with her role as Godmother, and we’ve instructed her to give Kowalski pointers, who still seems like he’s in denial about the appointment.

Life is pretty good right now with Rory O’Connor. Those perfect abs, those tree trunk arms, that cheeky Irish smile and those gemstone eyes. It may have taken a lot to get here, but now I have him, you better believe that nothing in this world will make me let him go.

The clouds out of the window of the airplane look like the world’s comfiest blanket, and as I watch them float past, I begin to feel sleep tug me under. I’ve never been to Ireland before, but I can’t wait. It feels like an eternity since I’ve had a vacation. Rory says I’m going to love his mother, and he’s even promised to take me to a hurling game, despite the fact he still can’t play the sport himself.

Oscar’s already asleep, and Rory doesn’t look like he’s far behind him, legs stretched out, eyes closed and chest rising and falling lightly.

I lean into him, snuggle up against his neck and let my words fall softly on his ear.

“I love you, Rory O’Connor”, I say and let myself melt into him.

Rory

I can’t believe she said yes. To be honest, there’s a lot that’s happened in the last year I’m still struggling to come to terms with. I was flying this same route about a year and a half ago, thinking for all the world the court case I was coming back for would end with a fine and a suspended sentence at the very most. When the hammer came down on a two-year sentence, eventually reduced to a year on appeal, I thought my life was over. I carried into the cells the memory of that incredible night with Izzy and it was that and that only that got me through. To think that a year later, by luck or design or whatever you want to call it, Izzy and I, out of all of the billions of people in this world not only found each other again, but found out that no two people in the history of the world have ever been better suited, it blows my mind.

Every time I think that not only do we already have one incredible child together, we have another one on the way, that I have a contract offer for five years at an adopted sport, that New York now feels like my home and I’m going to get married after the summer, I feel like the luckiest man alive.

I can’t even describe to you the strength of the emotion I have for Izzy. If I’m away from her for too long I go crazy, and every time we are together there is so much chemistry I feel like even before our next child is born she’s going to somehow fall pregnant again.

When we make love it feels like the most beautiful thing in the world, and when we come together, like nothing can stop us. It’s been a challenge to get where we have, but at each turn, we’ve both succeeded. Life is never easy, and the pair of us know that better than many, but we’ve never given up and day by day as we get stronger, it only gets easier for us.

We finished the season being knocked out of the playoffs but we’ve improved massively since the one before, and I’ve done everything that Francis has asked of me, enough, it seems to be offered a five-year contract.

He’s not the only team that wants me either, but I’m not going anywhere else.

After this vacation, and while Francis applies for my long term work visa, which we are all almost certain will be guaranteed, I’m back to training and working on how I can be the best.

Next season I want a trophy, and there is every reason to believe we are capable of achieving that.

My leg has recovered completely, and I feel stronger competitively now that I even did when I was smashing the sliotar around the hurling field.

Izzy’s going to love Ireland and my mother is going to love both Izzy and Oscar. I can’t wait to show her where I used to play, where to get the best pint of Guinness, the shitty estate I grew up on, the prison she kept me company in without even knowing it, and, most importantly, the best alleyways in the whole of the damn country to fuck in.

That’s one of the things I’ll always love about Izzy. She’s a real girl and she’ll never let me forget about it.

Alleyways, hotel rooms, bust up sofas or up here, thirty thousand feet in the air while our son softly sleeps, she’s mine.

That’s what I call real love, and I’m never going to let it get away.

THE END

RHINO

A Bad Boy
Sports
Romance

Abbey Foxx

© 2016
Abbey Foxx

Cover designed by Lunatic Design

All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental. The characters are all productions of the author's imagination.

Please note that this work is intended only for adults over the age of 18 and all characters represented as 18 or over.

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“Winning isn't everything, it's the
only
thing.”


      
Vince Lombardi

About This Book:

Wild, huge, and very horny.

Lucy

Alex Vann Haden is an arrogant prick.

Four years at the same college and he didn’t even look at me.

Six years later and he wants me to interview him.

One week on his private island out in the middle of nowhere.

Me and the man they now call The Rhino.

And apparently it’s not because he’s got a small brain either.

A full on, no holds barred, anything goes, exposé.

Alex Vann Haden stripped bare.

Yeah, right.

I hate him so much I could scream.

I wonder if this time he’ll have the balls to make me.

Alex

Lucy and I haven’t seen each other for over six years, but that doesn’t matter.

I know I can have absolutely anything I want, and right now it’s time for me to prove it.

It’s not going to take me a week either, I’ll bet my career on that.

One day? Maybe two.

Soon enough she’ll be struggling to resist me.

That’s the thing about me.

If there’s something I want, nothing can stand in my way.

I’m an endangered species, and I’ve got to fight for my survival.

Wild, huge, and impossibly horny. It's all true.

Lucy won't let The Rhino go extinct, even if she doesn’t know it yet.

**This is a standalone, full length, bad boy sports romance with a secret baby, absolutely no cheating, and a happy ever after. It’s heavy on the steam, and has just enough sports action to be enjoyed by fans of both genres.**

***

Rhino:

A Bad Boy Sports Romance

Prologue.

Lucy

I’ve been staring at his dick for the last twenty minutes and I still don’t know how I’m going to do this. Alright, it was his arm that made him famous in the first place, but his
thing
wasn’t far behind, and right now I’m finding it difficult to look at anything else.

Alex Vann Haden is the most famous quarterback this country has ever seen and I’ve just been given the job of interviewing him.

Did I mention he was my college crush? Not that he’s going to remember that, of course. I don’t think he ever gave a single one of those thousand looks back at me over our four years together at LSU.

I have two questions. One, for someone who spends millions of dollars a year keeping his private life just that, why has he now decided to give an in-depth interview? And two, out of all of the sports journalists this country can provide, most of whom are way more famous than I am, why has he specifically chosen me? Lucy Parker. Famous for practically zero.

One week in his private villa on his private island in what’s probably a private part of the Caribbean. Just me, Alex Vann Haden, his perfection, and my secret crush that never went away.

There is no doubt this thing is huge for me, I just have no idea what to expect.

Alex stares out at me from the computer screen, a rare publicity shot at the very start of his career, and I stare back, a thousand questions already forming in my mind, my heart rate quickening as my eyes dip again, across the contours of that incredible Adonis belt and down, towards the darkened bulge that sits between his thighs, like a representation of the incredible possibilities of manhood. I can almost see it enlarging the longer I stare at it.

Alex Vann Haden. The quarterback bad boy who shut himself away from the world finally ready to tell all.

This is going to be interesting.

One.

Lucy

The editor in chief at Endzone, our monthly football publication, is about the least likely contender for sporting hero, which is why he’s best suited behind a desk, working on keeping himself alive just long enough to get that month’s edition to the publishers in time.

Of everyone, including myself at the very top of that list, Marcus Carney is the most surprised I’ve been given this gig.

Apparently, Alex was very specific. He wanted a small publication to report the story - ours has a small but dedicated readership - and he wanted me specifically to handle the story. He had read an article I’d written about Christopher Cole’s fall from grace at Moxlin Tigers and was suitably impressed.

Marcus still isn't convinced. He stares at me across the lower part of his face, which for the few years I’ve been here at the magazine, has been gradually melting into his always buttoned up shirt.

“Don’t fuck this up, Lucy.”

“I won’t”, I assure him.

“If you can’t handle it, I can see if we can send someone else with you. Paul, Craig, even Katy could go.”

Katy is the intern. She’s been here two weeks.

“This is a big deal for Endzone”, Marcus goes on. “Alex hasn’t given an interview in-.”

“He’s never given an interview”, I cut in. “Even at college, he was very, how should I put this, private.”

Marcus frowns at me. I think he wants to ask me how I know that, but doesn’t want to hear the answer he fears I’ll give him.

“Just make sure you record everything”, he says instead. “Every conversation goes on record, no matter what he says. Film it if you can. I want to know everything about this man. You should be able to do that in a week.”

“I don’t know if that’s very ethical.”

“Just do it, Lucy. I don’t need to tell you about ethics in this profession. The world needs to know why he’s so publicity shy. We might not get another opportunity.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Marcus doesn’t look convinced, but he hasn’t got a choice.

“One week, Lucy. This could be the beginning of your career, or the very end, you know, depending on how you get on with it.”

My career. What a weird way to look at it. I’ve been here for six years already and I’ve no plans to move now. There are two things I always wanted in life, to be a well respected sports journalist, and to marry a quarterback, and guess what, neither of those two things have happened yet.

Endzone is the closest I’ve got, and I’m happy enough here to settle for it. I did have a relationship once with a guy who was the mascot for a college team, but that soon ended after I found out he was banging one of the cheerleaders before every game.

Aside from that, I’ve barely had any luck either in my professional career or my personal. Kind of the opposite of Alex Vann Haden to be honest. He’s the most famous quarterback in the world and not only because he’s the most difficult to get in contact with. He’s been MVP four times, won the Superbowl three times and holds records longer than Landon Maddox’s dick.

His love life has been just as colorful, and although not linked to anyone at the moment, as far as I know at least, he’s had a string of model girlfriends over the years, and could have any girl he wanted, at any time. He certainly did in college, where he led anything but a private life.

Alex was almost kicked off the football team for his bad boy antics, but not many people know
that
side of the Vann Haden story as he’s spent so much money on covering it up.

What little I know about him comes from that time, and although I had a crush on him that made my panties melt and my knees go weak, to be honest, I always thought he was a bit of a dick.

He would swan around campus like he owned it, an entourage of sycophantic fans in his wake, with a nothing-can-touch-me swagger about him, that spoiled for me what could have been perfect boyfriend material.

It did make for good writing material for the college magazine, however, right up until I was banned from writing about him specifically.

None of those articles exist anymore, except the copies I have on my hard drive at home. If I published them anywhere I’d get a DMCA copyright warning from the college and a cease and desist letter from Alex’s team of lawyers. Another reason why him choosing me to interview him is about as strange as his publicity
about turn
in the first place.

He must remember who I am, right? Surely he can’t be that arrogant.

I pack enough clothes for ten days. All I know about this business trip is that I will be with Alex for as long as he feels is necessary to tell whatever story he wants to tell, at a minimum of seven days. I will be staying in my own mini apartment, situated within his palatial complex, and the interviews will be conducted at whatever times he deems fit.

I have been assured that my safety will be guaranteed at all times, not that I have any concern it won’t be, and that Alex and I will be alone throughout the whole experience, besides a skeleton crew of staff members to cook and clean and do whatever else a billionaire football player needs to make his living space comfortable.

Aside from that, I have no idea what is going to happen, but I want to be prepared for all eventualities. I have casual wear, formal wear, evening wear, dresses, skirts, tops, jeans and sexy panties just in case. I mean a girl can still dream, can’t she? I may be there for work, but if Alex has matured over the years and is still available, there’s no reason why I shouldn’t think about the possibilities of making that billionaire quarterback my own.

Ok, I’m only joking. What would Alex Vann Haden want with a nerdy bookworm like me? I know I’m only there to interview him, and he’s probably picked me because I’m going to be doing just that. I’m good at my job after all, even if I haven’t got quite the same size audience to appreciate it.

I have to say, the opportunity really is an incredible one for me. Forget for a minute that I’m going to be meeting up with an old crush, although that in itself is making my pulse quicken, I’ll be on holiday, sort of, on a private island in the middle of the Caribbean, and getting paid for it. It doesn’t matter if the end article is a pile of shit, this could be the most amazing week of my life.

On the other hand, it could be absolutely intolerable. I don’t know much about Alex, nobody really does, but he could be even worse than he was at college, and that would be saying something, because at college he was as insufferable as they get. And I can’t just tell him to shut up so I can ogle his arms and abs, because if I do, I won’t have a story.

If it’s bad, the week is going to be torturous, because as soon as I get on that helicopter to the island, I can’t get it back for another seven days. We’ve all been on holiday with someone we’d prefer not to have been and not being able to escape is one of the worse things in the world.

I can’t just end the interview early and go off and do something else either, that would never wash with him and it would almost certainly end my career like Marcus seems to be sweating about. It’s all or nothing, and those two words make me a little nervous.

One week. When we’re done covering old mutual acquaintances, what the hell are we going to talk about? I don’t even know if I should tell him we were at the same college together, just in case he doesn’t remember me. That would be a little embarrassing to say the least.

Just before I leave the house to get the flight to Hewanorra International Airport, Marcus gets a last minute rules list emailed through, which he forwards directly to me. They are guidelines I must adhere to otherwise the interview will be canceled and the article will never see the light of day.

They are:

1. No dictaphones or recording devices of any kind.
   
2. No pens, pencils, notepads or note taking material.
   
3. No cameras.
   
4. No laptops, tablets, cell phones or pagers.
   
5. No communication with the outside world once on the island.
   

I call Marcus who tells me the rules are non negotiable. I’m to conduct interviews and write a several thousand word article without any kind of note taking material and not only that, I have to disappear off the grid in the same way Alex has done for years, if I want to get it done at all.

I repack. Tablet, cell phone, notepad, pencil case and favorite pens get left behind, spread out over my bed like the last remains of a world famous author.

I’m about to leave when I turn around, pick up my cell phone and the smallest dictaphone I own, and stuff them into my bag.

When I get through security I’ll hide them in my panties if I need to.

I’m a journalist first and foremost, and I’m not going anywhere without a chance to record an interview I’m supposed to be giving.

I wouldn’t do that for anyone, least of all, Alex Vann Haden.

Alex

For a long time, I had a reputation. Womanizer, bad boy, player, ladies man, trouble maker, drunk. I was hot property coming out of high school, even hotter year on year at college and on fire as I blazed my way through my rookie year. Reputations can hurt if they stick, even if they aren’t true, which is why I chose to leave mine behind. I’ve been radio silent for over five years, and every single shitty thing that’s ever been published about me has long since been forgotten, by everyone except those ardent enough to want to see me fail. There are two things I will always make sure of in my life, that I always get what I want, and that I never fail.

I stopped giving interviews because I felt like I didn’t need to. Football is the gift I give to the world, and the rest is mine to keep unspoiled. It’s hard, obviously, living the life I do, playing the sport I do and having such a high-profile public persona, which is why keeping the rest private is so important to me.

It doesn’t matter to anyone what the real story is, as long as it sells papers, and I figured the best way to avoid that kind of publicity, whether good or bad, was just to remove myself from it completely. It took a while for the world to catch on, and even now there are stories that emerge about me that clearly have no basis in any kind of truth, but because everyone knows I keep myself away, most people just don’t believe the shit that gets published, and leave me alone because of it.

The problem is, I can’t have it both ways, and recently I’ve become a whole lot more aware of that.

I’ve removed myself from the public eye to keep my personal life private, and the effect of that is that I’ve begun to not have a personal life at all. I’m sick of it.

It’s time for the world to find out the truth about Alex Vann Haden, and time for Alex Vann Haden to find his way back into the world and everything else that it can offer him. Sure I’ve got girls, I’ve got as many girls as I want, and sure I’ve got a perfect life, what I don’t have is someone that means something to me to share it with. I’m making a comeback, and I need someone to help me pave the way and show everyone who I really am.

It isn’t a secret that people think I’m spoiled, arrogant, aloof and that I think I’m above everyone else. Most people don’t get the fact that I want to keep myself away from the world outside of football. They think I think they’re not good enough for me, which has nothing to do with it at all. I just got sick of people saying what they wanted to say, regardless of what it was I was trying to say, so I did everything I could to keep myself away.