Twelve Inches (A BIG Football Romance) Read online

  I let her. It was easier that way.

  I guess I should have seen it coming.

  “Television on,” I said ignoring the twinge of pain that shot from my ankle. It used to feel strange to walk into an empty house, but I’d grown to love the solitude. It made life a hell of a lot easier.

  “ESPN.”

  The giant curved flat screen came to life, showing a sports anchor – Terrance Henderson – talking about the game. I listened as he began talking about my sub-par performance. They had shots of me walking back out after the game, and there were questions about whether or not I should have been pulled off the field in the first place.

  “Your photos are ready now, Tom,” Alexa said in a pleasant voice.

  “Thank you,” I replied.

  Haley’s face flashed in my mind, and there was a familiar stirring deep inside of me. I’d felt it when I saw her crouched on the sidelines like a deer blinded by headlights. I’d felt it again when I’d stepped out of the shower and come face to face with the girl who got away…

  Desire. Raw fucking desire. I wanted to bury myself so deep in her perfect pussy that she’d scream my name and never let me go.

  I placed a pillow on the bamboo coffee table I’d picked up in Peru. After grabbing my laptop, I relaxed and lifted my leg, elevating it to relieve the swelling. The coach was right, I needed to rest. The last thing I needed was a season-ending injury. My contract was coming up for renewal and missing a few games could make me a liability.

  In football, liabilities get traded away. Spend too much time on the bench and you’ll go from hero to zero, no matter how fucking good you are.

  I lifted the lid of the laptop. After a few clicks, I saw a gallery of photos Haley had taken.

  She’s talented, I thought, remembering the way she was staring at my naked body. Maybe I should have let her take a few more pictures.

  Each one of her photos were special. I’m not an expert on photography, but I could almost feel her standing behind every shot. I shook my head to chase the thought away.

  What the hell is wrong with me?

  I didn’t really have to ask. I knew exactly why I was feeling like this. It was Haley, the girl who’d shattered my goddamned heart. Haley, the girl who never failed to throw me off balance.

  Fuck, I thought, anger spreading through my veins. My cock twitched at the same time, pissing me off even more.

  I couldn’t lie to myself.

  Every cell in my body responded to her tonight. My cock had been throbbing ever since I’d left the stadium. I’d been ignoring it, waiting for it to go away, pissed that my body would betray me.

  Fuck!

  I sat there wrestling with myself before making a decision.

  “Hey, Alexa. Get me the number to the newsroom at the Cleveland Press.”

  “Sure thing, Tom. Would you like me to make a call to this number?”

  “Yes.”

  I sat quietly while the sound of a phone ringing filled the space.

  “Press newsroom, how may I help you?”

  “Yeah, I’d like…”

  “If you would like to hear this message again, please press one.”

  “God fucking damnit!”

  “I’m sorry. I did not understand you. Which department would you like to reach? Please say your choice again.”

  “I want to talk to someone in the photography department.”

  “Did you say footology department?”

  “What the hell is a footology department?”

  “I’m sorry, there is no such department. Would you like to reach another person at the Cleveland Press? Please say the name of the department you wish to reach?”

  “Alexa, can you find me another phone number to the Cleveland Press?” I asked.

  “This is the only phone number I can find for the Cleveland Press.”

  “You said, wedding department? Did you mean classified ads?” the robotic voice coming from the call replied.

  “No!” I shouted. “A human being. Please let me talk to a human being!”

  “I’m sorry, I did not understand what you said. Please hold while I connect you with an operator who can help.”

  “Thank you,” I said, exhausted by the phone conversation with the sub-par answering software.

  “Newsroom, this is Jack,” someone answered.

  “I need to talk to someone in the photography department.”

  “Hold on, I’ll kick you over to the automated system.”

  “No, wait…”

  “Thank you for calling the Cleveland Press. Please say the name of the department you wish to reach.”

  “PHO-TOG-RAPY DEPARTMENT!” I shouted back in frustration.

  I let out a sigh of relief as music from the eighties sent through an elevator grinder played in the background.

  “Cleveland Press, photography department, this is Scott, what can I do for you?”

  “Yes, Scott, I need to speak to…” I began.

  “Hold, please,” he said.

  What the hell?

  A full minute later, he returned.

  “Sorry about the wait. If you would like to place a classified ad…”

  “I do not want to place a classified ad!”

  “I’m sorry, our computer said…”

  “Listen, this is Tom Bradley. The running back? The guy who twisted an ankle dodging one of your photographers?”

  “Yes, of course, Mr. Bradley. I’m very sorry about that,” he said. “I can promise you that the photographer in question will be finding herself a new job soon enough. That’s all I’m willing to say, but you can talk with our legal department if you’d like. Give me a second and I’ll throw you back over to the automated system...”

  “Wait!” I shouted, stopping him before he could kick me back to that godforsaken system. “I’m not looking to get her fired. I feel bad for almost running her over, and I was a bit of an asshole when she came to see me in the locker rooms.”

  “She didn’t say anything about that,” Scott replied, “but I’ll be sure to pass on your apology.”

  “I want to do more than apologize. I’d like to bring the Cleveland Press in to do a special exclusive photo shoot with the rest of the team. Do you think you can set that up?”

  “Uh… Absolutely!” he replied, his voice climbing an octave or two.

  “Can you put me on with Haley Harrison, please?”

  “Haley? Are you sure? We have better photographers, men who are much more skilled than Haley.”

  Men? Fuck this guy.

  “The offer is for Haley. I’d like to talk to her, please.”

  “Okay, hold on one moment, Mr. Bradley. Nice to talk with you.”

  “Thank you,” I replied with a bit of venom in my voice.

  Three

  Haley

  I sat at my desk in a far corner of the newsroom and stared out at all the computer screens and heads partially hidden behind them. They were all content with their jobs. Why couldn’t I be the same?

  Scott had already lectured me about going to an event and returning with nothing to print. Five of the shots I’d captured were okay, but he demanded spectacular.

  And I usually deliver…

  I saw Kate and Colt walking toward me laughing. Maybe it was my imagination, but I swore I saw them flashing me a smug look. The interns had been dating for awhile, and from the look of things, they were doing a little more than copy-editing in the back room.

  I sighed, taking a second to shrug off the feeling of jealousy. It had been too long since I’d let a man into my heart…

  I had Billy, sure. And my job… But did I need more?

  I wondered what my mother would say if she were still around.

  After Tom left me in my senior year of high school my heart was broken, but I had my parents and Billy to get me through. I moved away to college, leaving my parents with an empty house and desperately trying to leave the memory of Tom and my love for him firmly planted in the soil of Co
lumbus.

  Billy moved to Cleveland with me and we got an apartment together, both of us quickly getting jobs and exploring the city together. He was constantly dragging me to art openings and plays and the trendiest bars in the city.

  Our life together became a whirlwind of happy hours and late night dinners, and we quickly settled in to the city.

  Basically, we grew up.

  Tom became a very vivid, very raw memory that I tried my best to push away.

  And then came the car crash. When the phone call came in from the country sheriff’s office, I thought my life was over. My parents were gone.

  Billy stepped up, proving to be an even more valuable friend than ever. I couldn’t have made it through those months after the accident without him. I couldn’t work, I could barely eat, I never slept. He worked extra shifts and nursed me back to sanity. I owed him so much.

  Unfortunately, he liked dick almost as much as I do…

  A man would be nice, I had to admit. It’d been too long since I’d been touched by anyone that wasn’t completely platonic.

  I couldn’t help but think of Tom again. The image of his perfectly toned body with that equally impressive cock just hanging there, taunting me… almost begging me to get down on my knees and…

  Stop it Haley! Stop it!

  He was a jerk, I reminded myself. A huge fucking asshole who would never change.

  The phone on my desk rang, startling me out of my trance. I saw “Unknown Number” on the twelve character LED display. That didn’t really surprise me. This damn phone system was old enough to drink and it was a wonder it worked at all…

  I picked up the receiver, hoping it wasn’t Scott.

  “This is Haley.”

  “Haley, it’s me.”

  A long pause fell over the call.

  Tom?

  “What do you want?” I asked, still upset by our encounter. “If you’re trying to get me fired, save your breath. I’ll be lucky if I’m still here in two weeks.”

  “Relax Haley,” he replied, “I feel bad about what happened today. I wanted to offer up a photo shoot to make up for it.”

  “A photo shoot? Of what? You?”

  “Well, I was thinking you could take some shots of the team,” he replied. “I’ve seen your work. You’re talented.”

  “Thanks, but no thanks,” I replied quietly. The last thing I wanted to do was see Tom again. Maybe I’d been thinking about needing a man mere seconds ago, but this was not the man I needed.

  “I shouldn’t have been so hard on you, Haley. You caught me by surprise and I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you for old times sake. I already talked to your boss, and he loved the idea. Are you game?”

  No, I am not GAME, I thought.

  “I don’t know,” I said.

  “No pressure, no expectations. Let me help you. It’ll give us a chance to catch up.”

  I paused, trying to figure out an excuse that didn’t involve me telling him how much he’d hurt me.

  “Alright, I guess so,” I said, coming up empty in the excuses department. At least it would be a chance to make things up to Scott. It’d be hard to let me go if I was shooting an exclusive.

  “Great. I’ll pick you up around seven tomorrow evening. That work for you?”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “Yeah, does that work?” he asked. I ran through my schedule in my head, once again realizing I needed to get a life.

  “I guess. That’s a bit late for photos. We want natural sunlight.”

  “We’re not taking pictures. I thought we’d have dinner and talk about the photo shoot. I want to plan everything out. If we’re going to do this, I want it to be perfect.”

  “That’s not usually the way I work.”

  “Take it or leave it,” he said.

  “Fine. Tomorrow at seven. You can pick me up at the newspaper building downtown.”

  “See you then.”

  He ended the call abruptly. I took a deep breath then placed the phone in the cradle on my desk. Why would he want to have dinner with me, after all this time?

  My mood perked up as Billy waltzed over from his office. We’d been working here together for years and I couldn’t wait to tell him about my encounter with Tom.

  “Hey, girlfriend,” he said, sitting at my desk.

  “Hey, Billy. Any good shots tonight?”

  “You know me. I bring back the good shots every night. Did you miss out again?”

  I gave him a sour look.

  “Oh, no. Did Scott lecture you again?”

  I nodded my head.

  “Yeah, but..”

  He set his camera and bag down on the desk then swiveled his chair to face me.

  “Are you okay? You need to stand up to that man.”

  “Stand up to who?” Scott asked, walking up behind us.

  Billy turned his head with a flourish. I glanced up at Scott.

  “You two need to quit gossiping and get to work. Time to clean those photos up and get them ready for print. And Hayley, did you get him to agree to the photo shoot?”

  Billy glanced over. “What’s he talking about?”

  “Tom Bradley wants to do an exclusive photo shoot with me,” I blurted out.

  Billy’s face lit up with shock.

  “What?” he asked, arching an eyebrow. “You mean big Tom Bradley?”

  I instantly regretted the time I’d had a few too many margaritas and told Billy about my ex boyfriend’s foot-long.

  “You heard me,” I said, looking over at him knowingly. His face reflected exactly how I felt — complete shock.

  “Haley!” Billy cried. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “I’ll explain later,” I said, desperate to shut him up before he said something Scott didn’t need to know.

  “I’m leaving now, but you two need to get to work. I want that photo shoot planned out and I expect you to run it past me before you get started. I’m the one who hires and fires around here, you know?”

  “Yes sir,” Billy said, waving his hand dismissively. I just nodded and smiled, enthralled by Billy’s contempt for authority. Scott had talked about firing him before, but everybody knew he was the best damn photographer in the city. If they let him go, he’d be off working for the New York Times so fast it’d make everybody’s head spin.

  In a way, I almost hoped it would happen someday. I felt bad that Billy stuck around to work with me. He deserved to be a star…

  “Spill it!” Billy said, turning to me as soon as Scott was out of earshot.

  “Scott sent me out to shoot and I had a little… encounter…with Tom. It didn’t go well. I was hoping he wouldn’t recognize me.”

  “Of course he’d recognize you, Haley. You’ve got a face so bright it shines into space.”

  “Well maybe I haven’t changed, but he sure has. That wall of muscle almost ran me over! And then, in the locker room…”

  “You were in the locker room with him?” Billy asked, arching his signature brow.

  “It wasn’t like that. Well, I mean, he was naked, but it wasn’t —.”

  “—Naked?”

  “Look, nothing happened. He’s still an ass.”

  “With King Kong’s dick!”

  “I never should have told you that,” I laughed.

  “So I take it he didn’t apologize for breaking your sweet little heart?”

  “It didn’t come up…”

  “Not yet?” Billy replied, ignoring my little jab.

  “Well, I’m doing a photo shoot for him…”

  “I guess you are. Are you going to finally demand a reason for walking out on you?”

  “I’m not sure. He’s taking me to dinner tomorrow night to talk.”

  “You’re going to dinner with him?” he cried, his voice raising over the loud dim of the newsroom. Unfortunately, Scott heard him and turned back to us.

  “Hold on a minute,” he said, walking back over.

  Billy rolled his eyes.

  “I
don’t want you accepting gifts as a journalist.”

  “This isn’t a gift,” I said, sticking up for myself. “I’ll pay for my own dinner. He just wants to go over the shoot.”

  Scott frowned then shook his head.

  “I don’t like it. This needs to be strictly professional. If it goes bad, you’re on the hook, Haley.”

  “Fine, Scott,” I replied.

  Both Billy and I stared up at him until he walked away.

  “He’s just jealous because you won’t suck up to him like some of the little interns,” Billy said.

  “Oh god,” I replied, my cheeks going red.

  “Anyway, maybe he’s got a point. Just be careful,” he said, growing serious again.

  “I’ll be fine,” I assured him.

  I spun around in my chair and went back to work. All the while, thoughts of Tom danced through my head.

  Billy was right, I did need to be careful. Tom had always had a way of shaking loose everything inside of me and leaving me trembling.

  I took a deep breath to calm myself before I had another anxiety attack. I buckled down and got back to work. The photos I’d taken on the field were shit, but with a little creative editing maybe I could make something out of them.

  It helped that the subject was so drop-dead sexy…

  My eyes quickly flicked down to the last photo I’d taken. Even in icon form, I could see the defined lines of Toby’s naked body. I quickly dragged the image straight into the trash before I was tempted to open it up. This was going to be professional. Strictly professional!

  Four

  Toby

  “Hey, Coach,” I said, stopping in front of Coach Harris. He had his head bent, reading something on his ever-present tablet. The other players were lining up to run plays and streaming past us.

  “What?” he asked without looking up.

  “I’ve got an idea.”

  “Yeah?” He glanced up at me, grumpy as ever. “This better be good, Bradley.”

  “It is, Coach. That reporter last night, the one I almost hit. She wants to do an exclusive photo shoot of me and the rest of the team.”

  “Nope,” he said, then looked back down at the tablet.