Surprised and Sacked Ebook

Chapter 1: West
The stadium erupts—I’m talking, ear-splitting, raucous, incredulous joy—as my teammate, wide receiver Cohen Campbell dances in the end zone.
Holy shit. The slight bite of an evening chill hits me in the face as disbelief swims through my veins, and I freeze. We won the Super Bowl!
I repeat: The Knoxville Coyotes just won the motherfucking Super Bowl.
Elation like I’ve never known rushes through my body. I pull off my helmet and spin around slowly, gazing up at the stands, taking in the cheering fans, the swarm of crimson and gold jerseys, the moment.
This moment.
The green turf of the football field fans around me, an endless stretch, as if I’m standing in the center of the universe. For a heartbeat, a blink, a second, pure gratitude overwhelms the adrenaline pumping in my veins.
I’ve trained for this. Prayed for it. Dreamed it up countless times.
So many nights staring at a flaking, popcorn ceiling, listening to the fighting ring out below, I imagined this.
And still, the moment is sweeter than anything I hoped for.
“Way to go, boy!” Jag Baglione jumps on my back, slapping my shoulder.
“One hell of a game, you fucking rookie!” Gage Gutierrez agrees, punching my arm before pulling me into a side hug.
A wide smile cuts my face as I grin in shock.
“We won the Super Bowl,” I mutter. A Super Bowl I played in. Hell, started in. Fuck, scored a touchdown in.
“Yeah, we did!” Our team captain, Avery Callaway whoops.
The team rushes then, all of us surrounding Callaway as friends and family begin to pour onto the field.
Our huddle buzzes with energy. A shared pulse as we wrap our arms around each other. Our bodies sway in unison, tapping from one foot to the next, bouncing, with collective inhales and exhales rounded out with excitement.
“Coyotes!” we yell, slapping each other’s backs before stepping back to accept the congratulations from our loved ones.
The excitement of my teammates vibrates off their frames, causing the air to expand, and a wave of incredulity to sweep us all.
Flashes go off, momentarily blinding me.
Coaches Strauss and Stevens hug us tightly.
Confetti falls from above like snow, dousing us in crimson and gold sparkles.
I drag in a breath, my hands closing into fists.
I am living my dream. The dream. The ultimate goal.
And she’s not here to see it.
Disappointment blooms in the pit of my stomach, erupting upwards until it clogs my throat.
I shake my head, dispelling the thought. I clear my throat, dislodging the emotion.
Nova and I called it quits at the start of the season. I haven’t spoken to her in months. She’s not part of my life right now and the fact that I still conjure her up during my highest highs and lowest lows should infuriate me.
Instead, I miss her.
“You’ve got one hell of a career ahead of you, son,” Coach Strauss mutters, smacking my back. “Go enjoy your win.” He shoves me toward the locker rooms where the team is relocating.
While media outlets vie for our attention and a few of the guys get pulled into interviews, I steer clear. I’m not great at giving interviews. The PR team says I need to share more of my feelings and sentiments about the team rather than sticking to the technical aspects of the game. Be more relatable. But, hell, I’m not great at forging personal connections.
Not the meaningful kind anyway.
Except for her….
Stop it!
I step toward Avery and Cohen when a glimpse of familiarity slows my steps.
Derek Reiner, from The Burnt Clovers, and his girlfriend Allegra Rousell. Derek’s got A tucked under his arm. Allegra, who is Nova’s best friend, laughs at something Derek says and then, she turns.
Color drains from my face.
My heart drops to my feet. And stays there.
My breath fucking freezes in my lungs.
She’s right there. She’s fucking here.
Nova Jeanne Martin.
Her blonde hair is pulled away from her face in a low, sleek ponytail. Her petite frame is decked out fashionably—especially for a football game. Designer black jeans hug her hips and wrap around her slender calves. She’s wearing trendy black boots—with a heel—since she hates being shorter than everyone else.
I smirk when I note that underneath her gold puffer vest, she’s wearing a Coyotes jersey. My jersey. Number 31. That’s right. Nova better have my name across her back.
Jesus. I shake my head. I can’t believe she’s here.
I study her and the noise of the stadium—thunderous seconds ago—ceases to exist. Instead, I’m pulled into Nova’s orbit. How can I not be when she’s my real-life supernova? Too bright to last too long. Is that why we burned out?
As if she can feel my stare, Nova looks up and her eyes—a soft brown ringed with sage—latch onto mine.
She sucks in a sharp inhale, her hand lifting to press against the center of her chest.
My hands curl into fists as I’m hit with the first wave of her recognition. Christ, it threatens to pull me under.
How have I lasted this long with no connection to her? Without hearing her musical laughter or noting how she wrinkles her nose when she’s unsure. Without the reassuring touch of her hand linked around the crook of my elbow. God, I’ve missed her.
Allegra notes our exchange and threads her arm with Nova’s, beelining toward me as my teammates, and their friends and families, continue to celebrate around us.
“Congratulations, West,” Allegra says, grinning at me.
I manage a smile. “Thanks, A.”
“You were fucking fire!” Derek announces, slapping me on the back.
“Hey, man.” I give him a side hug. “Thanks for coming.”
“Wouldn’t miss this,” he replies.
I lift an eyebrow. Derek Reiner is an internationally celebrated rockstar. While he’s invited to all major sporting events, he doesn’t regularly attend them.
He ducks his head sheepishly. “Levi’s speaking at a rehab facility that one of his sponsors started through the Harrison Foundation.”
“Sweet,” I laugh. “So, you were already in town?”
“Yeah,” he agrees, tucking Allegra back under his arm. His eyes dart to Nova before settling back on mine. “We’ll give you guys a minute.”
“Thanks,” I say, meaning it. But I’m going to need more than a minute with Nova.
Hell, I’d take eternity if I could. But since that’s not meant to be, I need to lay this shit between us to rest. Once and for all.
I need to move on.
My chest pinches at the thought.
Allegra bites her bottom lip but before she can add to the conversation, Derek drags her away. I stifle a chuckle, appreciating his help in giving me face time with my girl.
Except, she’s not mine anymore.
“I didn’t know you were coming,” I murmur.
Nova shrugs and moves to tuck her hair behind her ears, the way she does when she’s nervous. Since it’s already pulled back, her fingertips brush over the shells of her ears and she sighs. “It was a last-minute thing.”
“How’s your dad?” I ask. That was the first strike against us. Not because her father didn’t like me, but because his heart attack last August meant Nova’s permanent return to Paris. What was supposed to be a quick visit turned into weeks and then, months.
I didn’t think the long-distance would be so hard for us. Turns out, it was the kiss of death.
“He’s okay,” she says softly. “This is my first time away since…”
Since she left. Over five months ago.
“I’m glad you’re here,” I admit, meaning it.
She smiles at me, but her eyes are sad. “I couldn’t miss this. You were…” She shuffles closer. “West, you were incredible out there. I’m so proud of you.”
Her words, laced with the pride she freely shares, causes my throat to tighten.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
She’s the only person truly here for me. Sure, there are some college buddies in the stands who are rooting for me. There are friends of friends and high school acquaintances who got last-minute tickets. Even one of my old coaches came to show his support which means a lot to me, especially since my high school coach—Coach Kent—who was more of a father to me than any other man, passed away years ago.
But the solid, familial support that most of my teammates know and rely on doesn’t exist for me. I’ve only ever had Nova. And then, not even that.
The fact that she’s here causes the emotions I keep at bay to rise to the surface and flood my system.
Nova smiles again, her face lighting up. Christ, she’s beautiful. “You did it, West. All your dreams came true.”
Not all of them.
I swallow back the words.
Force a fucking grin.
“Yeah,” I agree. “How long are you in town for?”
She drops one shoulder in a half shrug. “Just the weekend. Dad and my brothers need me back. I’m starting a tasting room for the label in Paris and I’m already renovating the space.”
I smile for real this time. “That’s incredible, Nova. Your dad’s lucky to have his legacy in great hands.”
She chuckles. “I don’t know about that.” She sighs. “It isn’t the fashion career I dreamed of, but right now, it’s good. It’s nice to be by family again.”
“Yeah,” I say. I wonder what that feels like. I’ll never know. “Well, you should come to the after-party.” I tilt my head and stare at her. Now that she’s here, I don’t want to miss a second.
We never got closure. Our breakup wasn’t dramatic. It was a slow growing apart of two people who respect each other. We had jobs to do, commitments to uphold. And we couldn’t balance us amid them.
As the weeks went by, we became less like lovers and more like friends. Then, acquaintances. Now, practically strangers.
But my feelings for her, they’re just as intense and meaningful as when we laid in the bed of my truck, looked up at the night sky, and whispered our dreams into the darkness.
I want to be a fashion designer, she admitted.
I want to win a Super Bowl, I confessed.
“I don’t know,” Nova hesitates. She rocks from one foot to the next.
“Please, Nova. Come,” I state.
One last night with you and then I’ll let you go. I’ll move on, I bargain with the universe.
Give me tonight and I’ll stop asking for a second shot.
She stares at me for a long moment. Emotions I can’t read filter through her eyes. Then, she nods. “All right, West. One last night.”
“One last hurrah.” I grin. “I wouldn’t want to celebrate tonight with anyone else.”
A streak of pride blazes across her expression before she dips her head in acknowledgment. She swats at me playfully. “Go shower. I’ll wait for you.” She looks down at her clothes. “Actually, I need to change. I’ll—”
“You look perfect, Nov.”
She smirks. “Pick me up on your way to the party?”
“You brought a fancy dress for a party you didn’t know you’d be attending?” I joke.
“I knew you’d win tonight.”
“You didn’t tell me you were coming.”
Nova wrinkles her nose. “I was half hoping I’d see you.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “And the other half?”
She lets out a long exhale. “Terrified.”
“Why?” I whisper as fear and hope mix in my gut.
“Because we’ll never have more than this,” she admits, gesturing between us. “And it will never be enough.” She closes the space between us and lifts up onto her tippy toes.
I bow down as she presses her lips to my cheek. “I’ll text you the address, West. Pick me up.”
“I’ll be there,” I promise.
Then I watch as my girl, the only one who has ever owned my heart, walks away.
Fuck, I miss her.
It guts me that I’ll never have her.
All we’ll have is tonight.
A celebration.
And closure.