Touchdowns and Temptations: A Football billionaire Romance

11

I”m at the stadium with my parents to watch a Boston Foxes game live. They are playing the Seattle Commanders. Their new quarterback, Jalen Armstrong, just joined the team this year. The Commanders drafted him. My dad raved about him on the car ride and said the Foxes could have gotten him, but they thought Noah was a better option for the future. Rookies, especially quarterbacks, can play worse in their first season in the pros than they did in college, and the Foxes didn”t want to take that risk. The number of interceptions is significantly higher in the rookie season in the NFL than in college and later years. The young players have to adjust to the more experienced and often more agile defensive players who play at a different tempo.

I listened patiently to my dad, but I didn”t put much stock in what he was saying. He likes to talk about players and how he grades them. Especially quarterbacks, only to realize that they will never be as good as he is. Dad would never say it in public, but he enjoys being the best quarterback ever.

When I”m at the stadium with my parents, we sit in our family box, of course. But, when I’m not with them, I prefer to sit in the stands because I think you get a better feel for the game. Today we are not only here as a family, but also to represent Corse Sports Management.

Although it”s mid-September, the East Coast of the United States is still experiencing the uncomfortable heat of late summer. The air in the stadium is stagnant and I fan myself with a flyer to create a breeze.

The stadium is already packed and the atmosphere, as always, is electric.

Noah wrote to me last night. I haven”t heard from him today, but he says he”s always introverted on game days. He needs the peace and quiet to concentrate better, and who am I to begrudge him that? Nevertheless, I write him a short message wishing him good luck.

Suddenly it gets unbearably loud and I turn my attention to the tunnel where the Boston Foxes players are coming out. Led by Noah, they are running onto the field to warm up. He looks even hotter than usual in his jersey with the pads and the unbelievably tight pants. His helmet dangles loosely in his right hand as Alex nudges him. He raises his finger and points around the stadium. Noah says something to him, shakes his head and speeds up his steps to get away from Alex.

The more I get to know the twins, the more different I find them. Noah is quiet and introverted, while Alex is loud and direct. I wonder who their brother Logan is more like.

“Will you ever get used to the stadium?” my mom asks and I look at her.

“Probably not,” I answer with a sigh. “But it”s part of our lives.”

“It is,” she says, “and soon it may be more a part of yours than you realize.”

I raise my eyebrows in question, but she just grins at me. It”s nonsense that her statement is directed at Noah. Now that I”m working in sports management myself, I”m just less able to push away who I am.

“I”m Michael Corse”s daughter,” I reply. ”Of course it will always be a part of my life.”

“I didn”t mean your dad,” she replies with a smile and looks out at the field. I follow her gaze as Noah puts on his helmet. Suddenly, he raises his hand and waves in our direction. I open my eyes in surprise. Was it meant for me?

“We”re on the jumbotron,” my mom says, pointing to it. “He”s waving at you.”

Heat rises inside me, and I barely dare look at the jumbotron. Why is he doing this? And why does my mom think he”s waving at me?

“Why do you think he”s waving at me?”

“He only waved after you were shown.” She shrugs.

So, I wave back, because it”s only right. Our names are displayed below our faces: “Dana Cara Corse - Michael Corse”s wife and daughter.”

“Great,” I grumble. “Now the whole stadium knows we”re here and Noah McCarter is waving at me.”

“That”s nice,” she replies.

“Oh, Mom,” I mutter. “I don”t like being the center of attention.”

Which is another reason I”m not going out with Noah!

“I know that,” she says with a smile, squeezing my arm. “But he waved at you.”

I can only hope that my mom doesn”t jump on the same stupid Noah bandwagon as Marina. My best friend has nothing else to talk about. Maybe her pregnancy, but there”s not much news about that either, apart from the fact that her belly is growing.

“We know each other,” I say. “I work for him, Mom.”

“I know that.” She smiles at me with satisfaction. “I think he”s nice and very handsome.”

“Mom!” I look at her indignantly. “Why would you say that?”

“Because it”s the truth,” she insists on her point of view. “You don’t think so?”

Yeah, great, what can I say now? Of course, Noah is handsome and nice and certainly a dream son-in-law, but not for my mother. She can kiss that goodbye. Noah and I are friends, and that”s fine. In the last few weeks, we”ve become closer and closer friends and I think that”s nice. Really nice. “Well, I think... Daddy!” I call, glad that my father”s appearance saves me from the situation.

“There you are,” he says, smiling at us. “Are you guys excited? I think Noah is going to be in a really good mood today. There”s no way he”s going to be overshadowed by a rookie.”

I look at the field and at Noah. He throws a few balls to Alex and fakes a run. Then my eyes slide over to Jalen Armstrong. He”s talking to one of the Seattle Commanders. He looks pretty good; I have to admit. But I hear he has a girlfriend he met in college.

“Hm,” I reply. “We”ll see.”

“Shall we sit down?” My dad points to the chairs in front of us and smiles at us.

“Of course,” my mother replies and I follow. Soon after we sit down and the fans take their seats, the spectacle begins. The teams enter and the national anthem is played.

The Foxes have won the coin toss and open the game with their first drive. The offense, led by Noah, takes the field and lines up.

My dad is a bundle of nerves for the next few minutes, and when Boston goes down seven to fourteen with a touchdown after the first quarter, he gets even more tense. Things get better in the second quarter; our defense holds strong and comes up with an interception. Noah comes back on the field and I lean forward. The guys have picked up some yards on the turnover and I hope we can score a quick touchdown.

“Come on,” I mutter as they line up and Noah takes his place. He gives the command and the center takes the snap. Noah takes a few steps in the pocket. But a defensive player is there immediately and pulls him down.

“Damn!” I jump up reflexively, earning a quizzical look from my dad. “Sorry.”

I quickly sit back down and try to calm down. They are only on their second attempt and still have all the time in the world. On the next drive, they pick up a few more yards. They finally make it into field goal range. Noah”s annoyed face is shown on the jumbotron. He removes the safety catch from his helmet, tosses it to the ground, and sits down on the bench. Alex sits down next to him.

I sigh and turn my attention back to the team that now has the advantage: Seattle! Led by their young quarterback Jalen Armstrong, they line up. Granted, he”s really, really good. Seattle scores a touchdown. My dad is cursing next to me and the other people in the box are whispering.

I try to block out their voices because most of them are criticizing Noah and questioning him. They think they would have been better off with Jalen. That”s total bullshit, and if they thought about it any more, they”d know it. Noah has several years of experience in the league that Jalen Armstrong has yet to gain. Today is just a good day for him, that”s all.

“Come on, Noah,” I whisper. “Come on.”

The offense comes back out onto the field and everything goes back to normal. They line up and the center throws the ball to Noah. Noah runs - in my opinion - the wrong way again and gets knocked down. It”s crazy. He can”t complete a pass. The worst part is that everyone is happy when it finally goes to the break. Seattle has two touchdowns and a field goal, plus another point lead. And unless miracles happen down there, this is going to be a very humiliating night for the Boston Foxes. My parents go to the box to get more drinks. I stop and look around the stadium. It”s my first visit this season and, of course, I want Noah to play better. The whole team should play better and step it up in the second half.

The third quarter starts as bad as the second. Noah”s passes are disastrous, and Jalen Armstrong plays like he”s a god.

However, our defense miraculously manages to keep the score at 10-28 for a few more possessions.

I look at Noah. His attitude has changed.

He is much more aggressive and his brother notices. Noah pushes him away and gives him a clear command where to stand. Of course, Alex doesn”t take this lying down and a verbal exchange ensues between the twins. Noah is able to win this and Alex has to position himself where Noah wants him. This time Noah targets another player and the move works. He gains a few yards.

“Yes,” I whisper, biting my lip as they set up again. This time it works and they score a touchdown. The kicker”s extra point is right on the money, too. It”s still 17-28, but it”s a glimmer of hope. On the Seattle Commanders” next drive, our defense doesn”t give them a chance, and it”s as if Noah”s touchdown untied the knot. On top of that, Armstrong throws an interception and the ball comes back to us.

After another touchdown on this drive, the score is 24-28 going into the fourth quarter.

“Oh God,” I mutter, running my fingers through my hair. You should never write off a football game before the final quarter. My dad has also gotten up and is giving the boys instructions from his position. I”m so glad he gave up his coaching career for now. Poor guys.

The Boston Foxes have the ball again and line up. Noah has a heated discussion with Toby and walks over to his spot, shaking his head. I clasp my hands together, as if praying will do any good, and stare out at the field. They make it to the end zone on this drive. It”s not just me, the whole stadium is tense. If the Foxes score a touchdown now, they will have caught up with Seattle.

“Come on,” I whisper as they line up and Noah gets into position. He has to make it. The lines are very tight in front of the end zone, but it”s only a few yards away. The center throws the ball to Noah and he goes up the middle. As expected, he is immediately blocked.

“Shit!”

My parents look at me questioningly and I shake my head. As if they weren”t thinking the same thing. We have one more try to get the touchdown and finish this drive without losing any points. The team gets back in position. Noah takes the pass and Alex breaks free in the end zone. I jump up and scream as he catches the ball.

“Very good!” I yell so loud that the people below me look up. “Keep it up!”

In the next few minutes, the opposing team passes the Foxes with a touchdown and takes a 35-31 lead. With one minute left on the clock, the Foxes have the ball again. They have to score a touchdown or lose the game. Time doesn”t want to run out and, of course, the Commanders call a timeout in the middle of our drive.

I look at Noah. He looks calm, talking to his coach and then to Alex and Toby. I pace up and down in front of the box, trying to get rid of my nervousness.

“Cara?” my mom asks, “Are you nervous?”

“No,” I reply. “Not at all.”

She grins at me, but I just roll my eyes and concentrate on the game. The timeout is over and the offense lines up again. Noah gives the final instructions to his players and they get into position. The center takes the snap, the ball lands in Noah”s hands and he dances in the pocket. This gives the defense time and they take advantage.

The quarterback is tackled.

How in God”s name can he run back there? This is a black day for the Foxes. The next offensive drive fizzles out as well and time runs out mercilessly.

***

I”m standing in the parking garage waiting for my parents, who are still shaking hundreds of hands. I quickly excused myself by pretending to go to the bathroom and walked on, hoping to meet Noah. Not only did the Boston Foxes lose the game, but they caused a turnover in the final seconds, allowing the Bears to score another touchdown. A really bad Sunday.

“Cara, hey!” I turn to see Toby coming toward me.

“Hey!” Smiling, I walk over to my old childhood friend and give him a hug. “Sorry about the game.”

“It”s okay,” he says with a shrug. “The season”s still long and we had a bad day.”

“I noticed,” I remark. “Who are you playing next week?”

“Atlanta,” he says. “Where are your parents?”

“Still shaking hands,” I reply with a grin.

Just then the elevator opens and Noah gets out.

He speaks to Alex who follows him. Noah raises his head and looks at me. The corners of his mouth turn up and I smile too. That makes Toby turn around.

“Oh yeah,” he says with a grin, waggling his eyebrows. “Of course you”re waiting for Noah.”

Heat rises in my cheeks and I hastily avoid his gaze.

“Not at all,” I contradict half-heartedly. “It”s all ... coincidence.”

Toby can barely hold back a laugh.

Noah and Alex come over to us, and Toby is kind enough to take a step aside.

“Hey,” Noah says, and I smile at him.

“Hi,” I say. He leans over and plants a kiss on my cheek.

“How did you like the game?” he wants to know with a grin.

“Hm,” I mumble, not quite sure what to say. The game wasn”t that good, but I can”t say that. It would only bring him down. “It was okay.”

“You”re a terrible liar,” he replies.

“Sorry,” I chuckle. “I was trying to cheer you up.”

I raise my eyes cautiously, my heart pounding. Noah smiles back at me and pulls me closer. Inevitably, I snuggle up against him and place my hands on his muscular chest.

“What are you doing today?”

I look up at him in surprise.

“I”m waiting for my parents and then we”re going home, and you?”

“I want to go home too,” he mumbles. “Do you want to come with me? We can cook something and call it a night.”

Surprised, I look at him and walk past him to Alex and Toby. I”m not sure if they”re paying any attention to us, as they”re deep in an animated discussion about the game.

“Alex is flying to Nashville tonight.”

“Okay, wow,” I mutter. “And you”re not?”

“I have a few more appointments in the next few days. I”m flying out on Wednesday.”

“Okay,” I say again, not very witty, and Noah laughs.

“So, are you coming with me?” he asks.

I bite my lip, asking myself the same question. Noah and I have never been alone at his house to spend an evening together. I think back and forth, undecided. I wonder if this is too intimate. We are friends, but isn”t that what friends do?

“Cara?” he asks. “Yes or no?”

“I don”t know,” I answer honestly. “I don”t have my car...”

“I”ll drive you home later,” he offers. “And, of course, I won”t drive you if you want to stay with me.”

My pulse races and goose bumps spread over my body. I can”t imagine that there could be more between us than just a nice evening with friends. It”s not possible.

“Do you have bad intentions towards me?” I try to keep the conversation light.

“Absolutely not,” Noah says, winking at me. “We”re spending some time together, as friends.”

I take a deep breath and look back at Alex and Toby.

“Okay,” I finally give in. “I”ll come with you.”