Personal Foul: A Sports Office Standalone Romance Read online

  “Is this about Colson?”

  Shit.

  Deciding to play coy, I avoided answering it directly, trying to feel out what exactly he knew.

  “He stopped by to talk to me the other day…” he said, his voice trailing off.

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “Yeah…” His mouth curled up on the edge, smiling. “You didn’t want to tell me? You just wanted to let me find out for myself?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Sydney, do you honestly think I have no idea what’s going on?” He chuckled, shaking his head.

  “I don’t have any idea what you are talking about.” I continued to play clueless.

  “Yeah, Colson expected you’d try to hide it. He hadn’t expected me to bring it up to him either, but I called him out. Unlike you, he didn’t continue to pretend like I was blind or oblivious.”

  “Okay,” I replied, nodding my head slowly.

  “Listen, come here,” he said, reaching past me to grab for the door handle to my office before I had a chance to lock it.

  He pushed it open, pressing his hand against my back to urge me to join him as we took a seat in the two chairs facing my desk.

  “How long have I been in your life now? Wow, I guess we’re going on ten years, huh?” A smile stretched across his face. Warmth filled my chest, seeing how happy he was thinking over the question.

  I was so incredibly lucky to have him and my mom in my life. I didn’t want to think about where I’d be without them.

  “When we first met, I remember it took you nearly a week before you came around to talking to me. You warmed up to your mom much quicker than you did me, but I understood. I knew I had to earn your trust, and I was okay with you taking your time.”

  He moved the chair slightly to face me. His penetrating gaze left me feeling like there was nowhere for me to turn.

  “I know it’s hard for you to trust people, to open up and let them in. I saw it when we first met, and I recognize what you’re doing with Colson now. You’re testing him because you’re waiting for him to decide it’s not what he wants, and he walks away. Sydney, sweetheart, Colson is one of the good ones. I noticed it since the first time I saw you two together. The way he talks about you and how you look at each other. I suspected there was something going on before dinner, but when I saw how you two were together, I knew I was right.”

  My mind flashed back to the night we went out to dinner for my mom’s birthday, replaying every detail.

  “I’m not going to tell you what to do or how to feel. You’re smart and talented. You know what you want for your future. You know what is right for you. Promise me one thing, will you?”

  “What?” I asked, still trying to take in everything he’s said.

  “Promise me you’ll give him a chance. Talk to him, let him get to know the real you. You deserve to be happy, and I think Colson could be your person.”

  “How are you so sure?”

  “He promised me he’d fight for you. Trust me, only a man who knows what he’s losing would fight to keep it.”

  Here we are, I am promising to give him a chance, and he is promising to fight for me.

  He rolls over onto his side, pulling the sheets back enough to invite me in. Smiling back at him, I climb in next to him, curling my arm under my pillow to face him.

  “We didn’t get a chance to talk earlier like we had hoped,” I whisper.

  It’s always been easy to forget everything else and focus on the way Colson makes me feel when he’s around me.

  “I think I should start off by saying I’m sorry,” he sighs. Reaching over, folding his hand against the side of my face, he presses a soft but quick kiss against my lips. Pulling back, he continues, “I remember the first time I realized Coach was your dad, I remember thinking to myself how different you looked.”

  “Yeah, I guess that could’ve given it away.” I giggle.

  “I feel like an asshole for making assumptions about how your life was.” He exhales. “I’m the last person who should be judging you. I’ve listened to people criticize me as if I’ve somehow forgotten where I came from or what I went through growing up. Being in the public eye, I’ve experienced firsthand how people are so quick to talk about you on social media and make up lies about what they think of you. I hate to think I’ve done the same. I don’t know what your life was like before you met your parents, but I know you deserve to have a family. You deserve to have people in your life who care about you. I wish you wouldn’t push me away.”

  I nod, tears filling the brim of my eyes, brushing my finger beneath my eye to catch a tear before it slides down my face.

  “I don’t know where to start,” I whisper.

  I’ve never opened up to anyone about what my life was like before I was adopted. There’s a lot even my parents don’t know.

  “Start from the beginning,” he murmurs, slipping his hand down, wrapping it around my wrist before tangling our fingers together. Something about his hold on me makes me feel anchored to him, like no matter what I say or do, he will be here with me, and he’ll never let go.

  “Well, my biological mom died when I was six. She had heart disease. I hate to admit it, but I don’t remember much except how my biological dad didn’t handle it well. He wasn’t in the picture when my mom was alive, so you can imagine his surprise when he found out I was his responsibility.

  “He struggled with addiction. Alcohol at first, but later turned to drugs. Heroin. He was arrested a lot. There were nights he wouldn’t come home. I was around eight or nine at the time. I grew up taking care of myself, so I had to grow up fast.”

  It was then I started to learn I could only rely on myself. It was a painful reminder that continued to resurface each time I would bounce from foster home to foster home.

  “Eventually, things got to be so terrible, and he wouldn’t come home for days at a time. Some days I didn’t even bother going to school. Of course, they started to ask questions. One day a police officer showed up at my door. I guess they were looking for my mom or someone in my dad’s family. They were trying to contact his family to report his death.”

  Even I can hear the void of emotion in every word. Somehow over time, I started to disassociate myself and my emotions to the situation. I know addiction is a disease, but he was all I had left, and even he left me.

  “I’m so sorry,” Colson whispers.

  I don’t have any more words. I simply nod as he moves closer, wrapping his arms around my body, pressing our foreheads together. He must sense I am done talking about it now.

  Drudging up all these memories are painful. He knows all he needs to know about my past, enough to understand why I continue to keep him at arms-length, why I have focused so hard on my education, and why I am now putting my career above all else. No one has cared enough to be there for me or about my future more than I do.

  “I had been in and out of foster homes for a long time before I ended up with my parents. I think my mom once told me it was something like thirty-two or thirty-three foster homes before I found them.”

  His eyes widen, his mouth falling slack like he can’t believe it either.

  “I remember sitting at their dining room table eating breakfast, and I asked her how much longer I’d be with them, fully expecting it would be a couple of months, if that.”

  “What did she say?”

  “Well, she’s pretty stubborn.” I laugh, remembering the day. I can still see the look on her face when I asked her. The heartbreak in her eyes as she dropped the whisk into the bowl, in the middle of making pancakes. “She told me she’d put up a fight before she’d let me go anywhere.”

  We both laughed as tears of joy came to my eyes.

  “I didn’t realize it at the time, until later, when my dad told me they had filed papers to officially adopt me. He promised me I’d always have a home with them.”

  That day changed me forever. When my dad started coaching for the Miami Blaze, I fell in
love with going with him to practices. So, when the opportunity came up to work for the Blaze organization, I couldn’t pass up the chance to come back home.

  “They saved my life. I genuinely believe it. If it hadn’t been for them, I probably would’ve been in and out of different foster homes until I turned eighteen, and Lord only knows where I would’ve ended up after. Probably where my father did, honestly.”

  Colson exhales heavily when the last sentence passes my lips.

  “I get where you’re coming from, I understand, but everything happens for a reason. You were meant to end up in their home, just like I believe we were both meant to end up on the sidewalk that day.”

  I nod. “You’re absolutely right.”

  “I know I am.” He grins. I playfully push his chest, but he doesn’t budge. His arms tighten around me, never letting me go.

  “There’s nowhere else I would want to be,” he whispers, his eyes locking on mine, making it clear he means every word.

  Gripping his face in both my hands, I kiss him. Slow at first, but like every kiss, it grows with intensity as the weight of his words envelop me.

  Pulling back slightly, enough to be able to look him in the eyes, too, I whisper, “I’m right where I’m supposed to be.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Sydney

  I barely make it through the door and into the kitchen before I hear a knock. I’d know who it is before even glancing out the peephole. My heart flutters in my chest, seeing him standing on the other side, but it pales in comparison to the sight standing in front of me when I do.

  Colson is dressed in all black. The small detail of silver comes from his belt buckle and watch on his wrist. He oozes confidence, from the way he stands with his shoulders pulled back, to his arms resting easily at his sides.

  How is it something so simple can be so damn sexy?

  “Hi,” I murmur. My eyes drag over his tall frame. When my eyes finally reach his, a subtle grin curves at the edge of his mouth.

  “What?”

  “You want some of this, baby?” He smirks.

  Rolling my eyes, he reaches for me, his arm circling my waist to pull me closer. My hands have a mind of their own, running over the front of his chest, then wandering down, feeling each delicious ridge of his abs through the material.

  He traces his nose along my cheek, skimming featherlight kisses against my skin. The subtle touches make my body sing, gripping the front of his shirt.

  “What are you doing here already?”

  When he stopped by my office earlier, he mentioned coming over after he got a few things done. I hadn’t expected him to get here until later. Although I hadn’t checked the clock since he got here, I’m guessing it’s just before six o’clock. The traffic on the drive home wasn’t as bad as normal.

  “Plans changed.”

  “Oh, yeah?” I laugh, pulling back to look him in the eyes.

  “Yeah, well, this dress sealed the deal. We’re gonna have to figure out some sort of arrangement when we live together. Can you imagine all the trouble I’d get into if your dad knew why I was late to practice every day? The sight of his daughter in these damn dresses and fuck me heels are enough to bring a man to his knees.”

  Damn.

  His eyes burn into my skin, raking over my body. I suck in a heavy breath, my tongue tracing over my dry lips. He doesn’t let me finish. His lips are on mine, kissing me with fervor. He spins me around, pressing my back against the closed door.

  His hands clench my hips, his fingers digging into my skin while the other softly brushes along the side of my face. His lips capture mine, licking the seam of my mouth following the same path mine had taken a moment ago.

  “Colson,” I groan. His mouth turns ravenous, kissing and nipping my flesh until he reaches my ear.

  “I love how my name sounds on your lips.”

  His eyes penetrate mine, a seriousness falling over him that wasn’t there before.

  “I want to hear it every day for the rest of my life.”

  My heart hammers in my chest, his response taking me by surprise. He is telling me what every woman in my position wants to hear and I feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

  Gripping his face in my hands, I kiss him, hoping he feels every ounce of love I have in me pour into him.

  He pulls back from me. “Come on. Let’s go.”

  “What? Where are we going?”

  “It’s a surprise.” He smiles.

  My mind filters through any hint or suggestion he may have given off earlier when I saw him, eluding to where he’d want to take me. After our conversation, I knew we were moving past the concern of our jobs and letting it interfere with our relationship. We hadn’t quite discussed the topic of how we’d break it to the rest of the world though.

  Colson didn’t feel it needed to be a big statement, yet there was a part of me who felt because it wasn’t only my job, but it would affect my father as well, I needed to be careful how we went about it.

  He must read where my mind is going, and his smile grows.

  “It’s nothing you need to worry about. Not tonight anyway. We’re going somewhere private, just the two of us.”

  He laces his fingers in mine, pulling me back from the door as he reaches for the handle.

  He insists on being the one to drive us, saying he doesn’t want to spoil the surprise. Despite my many attempts to convince him otherwise, he won’t give it away.

  “Will you give me a clue?”

  “A clue?” he asks, quirking his brow up.

  His hand has been resting on my thigh, driving me wild every time he rubs his thumb over my skin. My body trembles, my breath catches in my throat, and I’m stuck trying to remind myself to breathe.

  “It’s something I’ve wanted to do with you since I first moved to Miami.”

  My eyes narrow in confusion, shuffling through the conversations we’ve had. He’s talked a lot about his mom and brother back in Denver, but I come up empty on anything else.

  “Is this something I should know?”

  “No.” He laughs. “I haven’t told you, but you asked for a clue. I’ve wanted to check this place out since I moved here. I thought I’d give you this little detail, wanting you to know why I decided to bring you here tonight. Plus, it’s quiet and private, and we won’t have to worry about anyone bothering us.”

  It takes us about twenty minutes to get there, pulling into a residential neighborhood I’ve never been to before. I’m starting to get nervous thinking about his comment earlier tonight about us living together, wondering if he’s about to spring something on me I’m not quite ready for.

  “Colson,” I say, dragging it out. “Where are you taking me?”

  “You’ll see.”

  “You didn’t buy a house out here or something, did you?”

  He chuckles. “Nope.”

  Flicking the turn signal, he pulls onto a side road leading down to the beach. I peer out of the corner of my eye at him, trying to read his mind. Just when I’m about to question him further, he slows and veers onto a narrow road, pulling into a secluded parking area overlooking the beach.

  It’s quiet, unlike the rest of South Beach, notoriously known for being the best place to hit up if you’re looking to party. The white sand leads into the water, lapping along the shoreline. I almost wish he would’ve told me we were coming down here, picturing the two of us going for an intimate swim.

  “How did you find this place?”

  “This house right here belongs to a friend of mine.” He points to a white house on the other side of the privacy fence lining the side of the road. The back of the house, overlooking the ocean, is encased with floor-to-ceiling windows, giving a mirror illusion.

  Unless you were paying attention, you likely wouldn’t have noticed the road we turned down. Colson opens the door for me. He uses his car remote to pop the trunk, reaching for a small picnic basket and two blankets. My heart soars thinking about how thoughtful he was to
plan ahead for tonight.

  “When I was younger, my brother wanted to be a pilot. It was his dream. My mom worked hard to put me in different basketball leagues, getting me involved in any way she could. As a single mom, who was struggling to make ends meet, it was harder for her to do the same for my brother. I mean, what ways are there to help your son chase his dream of being a pilot when he’s six or seven years old?”

  “Anyway, there were days she’d take us down to the park, letting us run around and play. There was a playground not too far from our place with a basketball court, so some nights she’d take us there, and we’d have a picnic. After dinner, she’d shoo me off and I’d head over to the basketball court by the jungle gym for hours until dark.”

  I reach for the two blankets, sticking them under my arm resting against my hip while Colson carries the picnic basket.

  We carry on down the path leading to the shoreline as he continues, “Other nights, we’d pack up our dinner, only this time she’d take us down to a small park overlooking the airport, and we’d eat dinner while watching the planes fly in and out. I always imagined all of the warm places they were traveling to and the cool things they’d get to see.”

  We reach a small area underneath two palm trees lining the edge of the property, providing us with enough shade against the setting Miami sun.

  Colson had come prepared with sandwiches, a container of fruit, and a bottle of wine with two glasses. We each have a glass of wine while the sun starts to set, the temperature turning cooler as the sun disappears into the horizon.

  We sit here and share more childhood memories of growing up, digging into the basket of food. When it gets too chilly, Colson pulls out the second blanket, and I curl up in his arms beneath the starry night sky.

  Despite how hard it is for me at times to talk about my childhood, I love hearing him share about his. It is like peeling back another layer of him, and the more I learn, the more I love about him.

  Colson reclines back, his arms folded beneath his head with my head tucked next to his, my arm wrapped around his waist. We watch while planes take off, flying out of the Miami airport, trying to guess where they could be going. We talk about trips of our own we’ve been on and future vacations we hope to take together.