“Well, I don’t know anything about love, but you’re all over the place with your thoughts and feelings. So yeah, you’re in love. And if this is what love does to a guy? I hope to hell it never happens to me, because dude, you are one f**ked-up son of a bitch.”
“So what do I do?”
“Man up, suck it up, and deal with it. Look what you’ve been through in your life, Mick. You went through college as a drunk but still managed to fight it and get an NFL contract. You’ve been sober for all these years, and not once have you touched a drop of alcohol, right?”
“Right.”
“Okay, so if you love Tara, then do something about it. If you decide you don’t, then cut her loose. Tell Liz to butt the hell out of your personal life and start telling her how to manage your goddamned career the way you want it managed. Just because you’re at a crossroads and some things in your life are changing doesn’t mean you need a drink to get through it. You haven’t needed one all these years, and you sure as hell don’t need one now.
“Sure, you’re thirty years old now. But I’ve never seen a guy work harder than you to stay in shape, so go out there, play football, and continue to enjoy the game. And don’t worry about losing your stamina or your mojo or whatever the f**k it is you’re worried about losing. When the time comes to step away, you’ll know it, and you’ll deal with it just like you’ve always dealt with things—head-on. A drink isn’t going to help you escape from the realities of your life, and you know that. You went down that road once, and you know how well that worked. Or didn’t work. But only you can make that choice. I can’t make it for you. So the decision is yours.”
The waiter brought their food, and Mick dug in and ate, pondering all Gavin had said to him.
“You sure grew up while I wasn’t looking.”
Gavin lifted his gaze from his plate. “No, I haven’t. I still party my ass off and see a different woman every week, just like I’ve been doing since I was sixteen years old.”
“You handle it. You have your career right where you want it and your priorities straight. You didn’t end up a drunk like me.”
“I had the benefit of an older brother who f**ked things up in a major way, so I got to learn from his mistakes.”
Gavin winked, and Mick laughed.
“I love you, ass**le.”
Then Gavin laughed. “Right back at you, dickhead.”
EIGHTEEN
TARA WIGGLED IN HER SEAT, CAUGHT UP IN THE EXCITEMENT of the sold-out crowd. The stadium was packed, even though it was only the first preseason game. But San Francisco had come so close to winning the division championship last season, and the team looked to be even stronger this season with a few free agent signings that would bump up their defense.
And if she was thrilled to be there tonight, Nathan’s enthusiasm was off the charts, especially since Mick had gotten them seats on the fifty-yard line where the rest of the families of players sat. Nathan had been wide-eyed and taking it all in since they’d arrived a couple hours before game time, and he hadn’t been able to sit still, taking pictures and texting all his friends with the new phone he’d gotten for his birthday. Mick had gotten them an extra ticket so Nathan could bring his new friend, Bobby, another freshman football player and a really nice kid who was also thrilled to be at the game. The two of them had their heads huddled together pointing fingers, talking player stats and pretty much ignoring the fact that Tara was there.
Just as it should be.
She’d settled in, feeling somewhat conspicuous in the Riley number fourteen jersey Mick had given her, but also a little possessive and okay, just a touch warmed to be wearing his name and number on her back, especially since she was sitting with all the wives and girlfriends of the players.
“So, you’re Mick’s girl.”
She turned around and smiled at a cute brunette. “I don’t know about that, but yes, we’re dating.”
The woman held out her hand. “I’m Roseanne Lewis. My husband is Tommy Lewis, number seventy-two. He’s right tackle, offensive, and he’ll be protecting Mick’s butt tonight.”
Tara laughed and shook her hand. “Then thank you in advance for Tommy’s work.” Tara introduced Roseanne to Nathan and Bobby. Roseanne introduced her to the other women seated nearby.
“How long have you and Mick been together?”
That question had come from Sue Shore, a very pregnant adorable woman seated next to her, whose husband Derek was the kicker.
“We met earlier this summer.”
“We love Mick. He’s great with all our kids. He’s never seated a girl here with us before. His mom and dad have been here, and his brother a couple times, but never a girlfriend, so you’re a first.”
“Is that right?”
“Yeah. You must be special.”
She felt that way, and admittedly it felt really good. “When’s your baby due?”
“In a month. He feels like any minute though the way he’s kicking. Going to be like his daddy.”
Tara let out a short laugh, remembering having Nathan inside her and all the nights she couldn’t sleep because of his kicks to her ribs. “I think they all feel that way toward the end, don’t they?”
“Our daughter was more mellow than this little guy. He’s a born kicker.”
“I hope he follows in your husband’s footsteps then.”
Sue giggled. “That would be amazing.”
“Kickoff!” one of the women screamed.
Tara had been so busy chatting it up with the ladies that she’d barely noticed the game had started. She put her full attention on it, though, especially since San Francisco’s offense was up first, which meant after the kickoff Mick took the field.
And oh, what a spectacular figure he was in his uniform, which fit snugly across his fine ass, and the pads on his shoulders and chest, which made him look impossibly huge.
Tara tensed as he took the first snap from center, handing off to one of his receivers, who ran the ball for four yards. She let out a breath when the tacklers ran right past Mick.
Second down, Mick was under center again, and this time took the snap and dashed several steps directly back, stood there and looked for receivers, then shoveled a quick pass to the running back at his left, who ran for a gain of only two yards.