11. Ivy
The following morning, I attended my lecture and discussion class on sports management before arriving at the stadium to work eight hours. I’d always been okay being on my feet, but my knee and arm hurt today. They ached in a way that caused me to wince every step, and I scolded myself for not carrying some painkillers.
Managing my injuries was second nature, but sometimes, when I was distracted, I forgot to ice them at night or to bring extra meds. I could hear my parents frowning, miles away, that I couldn’t even hack it as an athletic trainer. They never said they were disappointed in me, but it was in their every look and breath. They wanted to have a superior athlete as a child, and that just wasn’t me. And they never expressed interest in the program, either. It was always just a sigh and a well, you’re motivated for it, I guess.
It was weird how you expected your parents to champion you all your life when really, they didn’t always. It was you and your people. If you were excited and wanted to do something, that was all you needed.
I adjusted my hair, retied the bow—today was white—and held my head high as I walked into Henry’s office to report in.
Despite the obvious distraction of Callum returning to my life, the anticipation and excitement of seeing him again was almost enough to cover the lingering pain.
“Emerson.” Henry nodded in greeting as he eyed me, Abe, and the other two interns at the stadium this semester. Kamrica and Colin were nice, but I always ended up paired with Abe.
“Hi, Henry,” I said, placing my hands behind my back and standing straight. He preferred us to stay in a line as he gave us orders for the day. It was regimented, which I liked.
Fact: having a routine could help deal with stress.
“Thanks all for coming today. We have our first road game this weekend on Saturday night. I’ve assigned Abe and Ivy to attend on the road.” He paused, his gazing flicking to us and back. “There are expectations for behavior on road trips. We will be staying at the hotel Saturday night with the team.”
He cleared his throat and stared at the window.
Staying with the team?
“I’m sure this was covered at internship orientation, but I must reiterate that fraternizing with the players is frowned upon.” He stared at the four of us, moving from one face to the other. “I am proud of the reputation my program has, and we vet our interns for this very reason. This is a job. You don’t party, and you don’t cross a line. You remain a professional at all times.”
“Yes, sir,” we said.
“Great. Glad that’s over.” He flashed a grin. “Abe, you and Kamrica need to prepare the waters. Colin, I want you in the rehab room with me to help tape before special teams show up. Ivy, you’re on the field. Stay back, and I’ll find you a radio.”
He dismissed us, and my muscles tightened from his earlier words. No crossing a line. Was that… being friends with Callum? My chest ached. I couldn’t… we were just trying again. Or did he mean have a relationship with? My mouth dried up as the other three left for their roles and Henry answered a quick text.
I’d worked so hard for this internship. This had to be a terrible coincidence, nothing more. Nothing would stop be from getting it, not even Callum.
Henry rummaged through a file cabinet and snapped his fingers. “Here is the radio. Damn, why are they in there?”
I remained silent, worried as hell. I couldn’t fail out of this program or get kicked out or not have Henry recommend me. Getting a job was all about who you knew, and I refused to let my parents get me a job. That was a privilege, but Callum’s face appeared in my mind. We chatted when he worked out sometimes. Was that…
“I wanted to talk to you about something.” He handed me the radio, his face set in hard lines.
Oh no. He knew Callum and I had hung out yesterday. I couldn’t lie at all. My face reddened, and my palms sweated. “I can explain, sir. We’ve known each other since we were five years old.”
He tilted his head. “What?”
And now I felt like an idiot. He wasn’t…oh no. I closed my eyes, humiliation gripping my throat. Why had I done that? Shit.
“Ivy.”
Tears threatened to spill over, but I once read if you clenched your butt cheeks, it helped fend off tears. The motion had a physical reaction to the clenching, and I’d used that hack quite a few times. It worked, and I took a shaky breath before meeting his gaze. He seemed worried.
“I’m sorry, sir. I misunderstood. You gave your speech about… crossing the line with players, and I thought you meant me being friends with Callum O’Toole.”
He blinked before a huge grin crossed his face. “Emerson, you are the last person I’m worried about. You’re always professional and would never cross a boundary. It’s great that you two are friends. It helps establish a level of trust with the team when they know he trusts you. That can go a long way here.”
“Oh.”
He waved a hand in the air, letting out a soft laugh. “I appreciate your honesty, but I have no doubt that you’d never do anything to hurt your internship. Plus. O’Toole? You’re not his type. He’d do well to have a friend like you.”
Henry meant well. I knew that, rationally, but hearing those words hit the air felt like a little jab. I knew I wasn’t Callum’s type. I never had been. He liked blondes and redheads and women with curves. The fact I even gave my head brain space to this annoyed me, and I shut it down. I thought he was hot a few times, but that didn’t matter.
Henry said it was okay we were friends, so it wouldn’t hurt my internship.
“Thanks for reassuring me.”
“What I wanted to ask was about your next steps after this year.” He leaned onto his desk, arms crossed. “Your professors say you’re bright, motivated, and have a chip on your shoulder. I don’t see the chip because you’re friendly, but I want to help your next step.”
“I want to break into the NFL and help increase the stats of how many women work there. I want to be an athletic trainer of the year and own a program that focuses on recruiting women.”
He nodded. “Any specific team or town that has your eye?”
“None. I’d travel wherever with an opening.”
Esme already ensured me that she’d move wherever I ended up—her brother would follow because he could do his job anywhere in the world. The fact that I had my two best friends built into any city was unreal, and I refused to let fear hold me back. But, for the first time in three years, Callum’s face was there.
He could get drafted anywhere. The chances of us ending up at the same team were insane but not impossible.
Why are you thinking about him? He wasn’t a part of my dreams anymore, so my goals wouldn’t change because of him. I would never be that girl.
“I’m close with the head coach and GM up in Chicago and Indiana. If you’re alright with it, I’d love to reach out and see their plans for next year.”
“If I’m okay with it? I’m more than okay. Yes, please!” I almost jumped.
He laughed for a second, but he wasn’t one to veer off-course much. “Glad you’re pleased. I’ll let you know what they say. Now for today, head to the field and be on call for any minor injuries. Taping fingers, stretching out sore muscles. This requires you to be prepared for anything and make quick decisions. Radio me if its serious or if you’re worried.”
“You got it.”
I clipped the radio to my belt, secured my fanny pack of supplies, and headed down to the field. The defense coaching staff stood in a huddle, their hats on and sunglasses shielding their faces. They were an intimidating bunch. The head of defense used to play for the 49ers for a few years before and still carried the swag of a pro-baller.
Without meaning to, my gaze sought out Callum. It was too easy at this point. He wore a practice jersey, padded up, and stood off near the coaches with his hands on his hips. His face glistened from sweat. Being a defensive end meant he packed on muscles but stayed trim. His biceps bulged in his cutoff shirt, and holy damn.
He laughed at something someone said, and the sound caused a warm sensation deep in my gut. He was always so happy, and it was contagious. But seeing him on the field, the place where he felt the most at home? There was something romantic about it.
“Emerson, right?” The assistant defensive coach asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“Charming said he has some discomfort in his left arm. You mind taking a look?”
“That’s why I’m here.”
Ignoring the pain in my legs, I jogged toward the side where one of the biggest, toughest, scariest dudes I had ever seen stood with a frown. The guy’s name was Princeton Charming. His real name. The name his parents chose to give him.
I honestly loved it because he seemed more beastly than prince with his beard and size and hair. He wasn’t unattractive, but his size and scowl were off-putting. He typically played nose tackle and did it extremely well. “Charming,” I said, making him glance up at me. “Hi, I’m Ivy. I’m one of the trainers here. Let me see your shoulder.”
“It hurts.” He sighed as I neared. He smelled of sweat, athletic gear, and mint? It was an odd combination. He stood at least a foot taller than me, but I reached up to touch his shoulder. It was a common injury for defensive linemen. With all the physical contact and brute strength, they needed constant care.
I poked gently around his rotator cuff, watching his reaction. He didn’t wince. I tried again, waiting for the pain to hit him. “This feels okay when I touch here?”
He nodded.
“Stretch your arm out all the way for me?” I watched as he held his left arm out like a scarecrow. His brows furrowed at the gesture. “Rotate it like a windmill?”
He did and groaned. “Come on, what the fuck?”
“Seems like a sprain.” I placed both hands on the shoulder, asking him to move again. “Tender too. When did you notice the pain?”
“Charming.” A familiar voice interrupted us. “If you wanted to be touched, you just had to say something.”
“Fuck off, O’Toole.” The large guy laughed. “Your pretty face isn’t helpful right now.”
“I beg to differ.” Callum stood next to me, almost too close. He also smelled like sweat and leather, but his leftover cologne lingered, a mouthwatering, intriguing scent.
Not the time.
Don’t cross a boundary.
“O’Toole, don’t you have practice? Leave us be,” I said, refusing to look at him. I focused on Charming’s shoulder. He’d need ice and rest, which I knew he’d be angry about.
“Ivy Lee, you need to improve your bedside manner.”
“My manner is just fine with the guy I’m working with,” I sassed back, a smile almost on my lips. “Okay, Charming, we need to get you iced and resting.”
“No. We’re playing Indiana this weekend. I can’t sit that shit out.” He paled, like I told him football wasn’t a sport anymore.
“I’m not saying that. I don’t have the authority to tell you that. I’m saying that your shoulder is strained right now. It could be from not icing enough or doing thorough stretching. Did you do your normal routine today?”
He winced. “No. I rushed through a few.”
I tilted me head with a told you so face. “That’ll do it. You can’t do that again. I know you’re young and invincible, but your body remembers this stuff. You have to make time to take care of it.”
Okay, hypocrite who quit physical therapy.
He groaned, the sound rivaling a Sasquatch. It almost shook the ground. “Okay, so if I ice, I’ll be fine later?”
“No. You need to ice, then stretch it with one of us. Then, tomorrow, you’ll be fine. Tell your coach and find out what you need to do. Abe is in the rehab room now.”
“I don’t want Abe.” He stared at me. “You’re nicer.”
“I appreciate that, but I’m on the field today.” I flashed a smile. “Stop stalling. Tell your coach.”
I clicked the radio, feeling Callum’s eyes on me the entire time. “It’s Emerson. Charming is en route to rehab room. He needs ice and stretching for left rotator cuff.”
“10-4.”
Charming glared. “I take it back. You’re mean.”
I rolled my eyes. “Okay, big guy, go. The sooner you rest, the sooner you’ll be on the field.”
He grumbled before marching off, leaving me with Callum. I’d been hyperaware of him and how close he stood to me. I stepped away, putting a foot of distance between us.
“Hey, are you upset with me?” he asked, his voice small.
“What?” I faced him, foregoing my rule of ignoring him. His face was crumpled into a frown, and his eyes searched mine. “No. I’m not upset at all.”
“You wouldn’t look at me. I didn’t… it was weird.”
“I focused on Charming.” I scanned the field, searching for Henry to see if he was watching. With him reaching out to two teams on my behalf, I felt like I had to be on my best behavior. Even though he said being friends with Callum was all right. I stared at my former best friend and smiled, for real. “We’re totally okay. Yesterday was the absolute best.”
He swallowed, a small smirk forming. “It really was.”
“I’m trying to find the balance of being your friend again and being professional. If not looking at you happens again, it’s because of that. It’s me, not you, okay?”
“I understand that. I’m sorry I was selfish about it. Of course, you want to be professional. This is your internship. I won’t intrude again.”
“I appreciate that.”
“Ivy.” He stepped closer, surrounding me with his scent. “I lied. This is my last time interfering. But does Henry know about your injury? I can tell you’re hurting, but my guess is you don’t share that anyone.”
I narrowed my eyes. “I’m fine. He doesn’t need to hear about it.” He’d asked me my story one time, and I shared the small details. He never questioned me after that, and I never complained. It’d remain that way.
He frowned. “I won’t share your secret if that’s what the daggers you’re staring at me with mean. But you need to take care of yourself. You’re favoring your left leg when you walk.”
“Am I that obvious?” I whispered, fear clawing up my throat. I’d lose a shot at making it into the NFL if people learned. Henry never brought it up or even looked at my injuries, but he was a good one. Most guys considered me weak, not strong enough, not able to do the job. They’d use it against me, like my parents, coaches, like everyone. “Callum, no one can find out.”
“Deep breath,” he said kindly. “It’s okay. Your gait is a little different when you’re tired, but unless someone is watching you as much as I do, they wouldn’t know.”
I exhaled, relieved and tickled at the fact he watched me a lot. “I’ll rest it tonight.”
“I doubt it.” He grinned before backing away. “I have an idea. I’ll see you after practice, Emerson.”
He jogged toward the field and got to work. I spent the next few hours watching, being on call, and tending numerous small injuries and stretches. Abe reported that Charming was following directions and would return to the field tomorrow. No major damage.
The rest of the day flew by, and once I said goodbye to Henry and the team, my adrenaline crashed hard. The pain I masked overwhelmed me, and I thought about calling Enrique for a ride.
My inner voice told me I needed to look into therapy again or at least build in rest, but I didn’t have the luxury of time. There wasn’t time in my schedule to focus on me. How pathetic was that? We did that as a society. Packed our days and weeks and months with things to better our lives, but we never focused on our bodies.
With my bag on my back, I rolled my shoulders as I walked down the stairs of the stadium. Most of the guys had left hours ago, so it wasn’t like Callum would be hanging around, but I searched for him anyway. It was like that in high school too. I’d be in the cafeteria or after school or a basketball game, and I would seek him out.
A blip of worry wedged its way into my chest. Life seemed cruel to bring us together again only to have one of us move across the country. It felt like… I should keep myself back a little bit. I loved him so much before, and it had killed me when we stopped being friends. Putting a wall between my emotions and our new friendship seemed like the right move.
“Ivy Lee.” Speak of the devil.
Despite the terrible self-talk about holding back, my face split into a grin hearing Callum’s voice. He jogged up toward me with a worried look.
“Hi.”
“Give me your bag.” He reached for it, his finger grazing my arm as he slid it off my shoulder. “I’ll drive you home.”
“Really?”
“Yes.” He rolled his eyes. “Well, not home actually. I’m taking you to the house for a bit.”
“The house?” I gulped.
“Yeah, where I live.” He put an arm around my shoulders and tucked me into his arm. He did that when we were younger too, but this felt different. Maybe it was his size now? Or the way he smelled?
But my body broke into goose bumps, and I was hyperaware of him. The strength in his core, the feel of his bicep on me. I’d learned to appreciate the muscles and strength these guys had. They put so much effort into their health and bodies, and it was beautiful. It had been a long time since I’d been intimate with someone, and Callum’s nearness reminded me of that.
“I got an ice bath ready for you and even found an old massage gun that could help. Now, you used to go to therapy once a week if I remember. Do you still try?”
I hated that he knew so much.
My face heated with shame as I shook my head. “No. I stopped once I came here.”
“Ivy.”
He guided us toward his car and opened the passenger door for me. It was the same vehicle we had spent hours in. Nostalgia and longing for home hit me as I buckled in. We watched storm clouds roll into town in here, we went to snowball fights, a mud wrestling tournament. He’d laugh about a crazy hookup story, and I’d tell him all the wild things my parents had me do.
Could one miss something even when it was right in front of me?
Breathing became a little harder as the smell of his car summoned even more memories. I gripped the side bar and focused on square deep breaths. It helped me whenever anxiety stuck its claws into me. I really didn’t want Callum seeing this.
“I know you’re stubborn, but don’t be so stubborn you hurt yourself,” he said as he entered his side. He hadn’t noticed my breathing or my worry yet.
He started the car before glancing at me. “Why are you gripping my door? Are you uncomfortable or in pain?”
“I’ll be all right.” By some miracle, my voice came out normal. He called me stubborn, and maybe it was my stubborn pride, but I didn’t want Callum to know that my emotions were spiraling. He knew about my physical injuries, so I didn’t want him to know my emotional weaknesses.
He sighed before reaching over and squeezing my left knee. “The ice will help. Let me take care of you for a bit.”
Like he used to.
God, that felt good to hear. Esme was amazing, but Callum and I had a decade of friendship to fall back on, and there was nothing quite like receiving all of Callum’s attention.
I squeezed my eyes shut and let him think my turmoil was my injuries. It was way easier than this heavy feeling in my heart. After my knee and arm felt better, I needed to talk to Esme. She’d knock some sense into me. Because I knew, no matter what, I refused to let Callum hurt me again.