When I Need You (Need You #4)

“God no. I was there last night right after the meeting. She made me promise not to tell you what happened. She didn’t want anything to screw up this game for you.”

“That’s the thing, D. Football is a game. She is my fucking life. I can walk away from this if I have to because I know she’ll be waiting for me. I never had that before. I’ve always had my family. But she’s . . . mine.”

“I’m happy for you. I really am. You deserve it.” He flipped me off. “That’s for telling me you were with that Astrid chick. Maybe I won’t tell you the rest, dick.”

“What makes it even funnier is Astrid is a lesbian. But go on.”

“Last night, Rowan forced me to promise not to tell you about the suspension. She didn’t exact the same promise about Daisy. Daisy did exactly what I expected her to—she came to you.”

“Thank you.” I buttoned my shirt. “I need you to do me another favor, please.”

“Name it.”

“Make sure Rowan is at the press conference.”

Dante shifted his stance, a nervous tic I recognized.

“What?”

“Is that a good idea? I mean, what if she doesn’t want to be there?”

“Tell her I said tough shit and to get her ass into the media room.” I grinned. “That ought to get her fired up and even more anxious to yell at me.” I snapped out the cuffs of my shirt before I slipped on my suit jacket and shoes. Ties were required postgame, so I headed to the mirrors to tie the noose.

I glanced in the mirror behind me at my media escort, who’d finally shown her face. I said, “Let’s go.”

? ? ?


I stayed off to the side while the coach did his thing. Then the big franchise players had their moments. That took a while. Then the offensive line coach tipped his chin at me and it was go time.

We had our choice to sit or stand, and I opted to sit.

There had to be fifty reporters and at least twenty cameras set up. The lights were blinding and I wished I had grabbed a ball cap.

My media escort opened it up to questions. As an unwritten rule, the local TV stations got the first questions.

“Rocket, it’s been twenty months since your injury. How did it feel getting back on the field today?”

“Like it’s been a long time coming.” Laughter. Then I did the PR spiel that had been drilled into me, with a few additions here and there that were more honest than I was supposed to share. I fielded question after question about any changes in physical abilities, my field time, the stress of blocking versus running on my Achilles. The press was very thorough, but I’d never been a two-word-answer player. Yet no one had asked the question that I’d been waiting for.

Misti Lane, local TV reporter who’d done the interview with Axl and Annika last year after Axl’s on-ice proposal, signaled to me. I nodded at her; she’d be fair and yet not shy away from the tougher questions.

“Jensen, after your touchdown, you sought out Rowan Michaels, a member of the Vikings cheer team, and presented her with the game ball. What can you tell us about that?”

“The game ball is pretty self-explanatory, so I’m guessing you’re really asking why I kissed the hell out of her.”

Nervous laughter.

Misti smiled. “Yes, tell us about that kiss and why you chose to violate the no-fraternization rule during the middle of a prime-time game on national TV?”

“Well, first off, I kissed Rowan because she’s my girlfriend. She was right there on the field and I wanted to share that special moment with her. Second, the no-frat rule is archaic and unfair.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Look, I’m not a guy who uses my media time to stand on a soapbox. But this rule, issue, whatever, has been shoved under the radar for far too long.” I pointed at the cameraman behind Misti. “If you started a relationship with him and your bosses found out, would either of you lose your job?”

Misti cocked her head. “No.”

“Exactly. And I have a big problem with a rule that tells me who I can’t be in a relationship with.”

That started a buzz in the room.

A bunch of hands shot up. I nodded to another local reporter. He said, “What are the repercussions for violating the rule?”

“For me? Nothing probably. For Rowan? She’s a professional athlete too, but she’ll get released from the cheer team she’s invested five years of her life in.”

A few gasps, some louder grumbling about unfairness.

I didn’t look to the media rep or the coaching staff. “So I ask . . . since when is falling in love a punishable offense? Football is just a game. It’s fun, it’s frustrating and I love it.” I pointed to Rowan, still wearing her cheerleading uniform, leaning against the back wall, next to Annika and Axl. They’d struggled with their own relationship issues in the media last year and had come out on top with a romantic love story people couldn’t get enough of. “But as much as I love football? I love that woman more. I figured if the rule stands and it’s the first and last time she gets to cheer on the field, at least she deserved a game ball so she doesn’t go home empty-handed.”

All the cameras whirled around to get her reaction.

“I get to go home with you. And that’s enough for me.”

Boom. Microphone drop.

I slipped out when everyone’s focus was on Rowan. I’d given Annika a heads-up about my postgame plans, and I knew she’d run with it. Having the media immediately associate Rowan and me as star-crossed lovers like she and Axl had been—PR gold.

It wasn’t like I’d thrown Rowan to the wolves and abandoned her. Astrid was bringing my Hummer to a prearranged exit point. My agent was in the media room keeping an eye on things. I needed to make a couple of quick phone calls and grab my stuff. Then I could grab my woman and go.

Of course, we made sure the reporters witnessed everything. If I had to be in the public eye, I was going to have fun with it.

So they saw me poking my head in a side door of the media room and beckoning Rowan out. Camera flashes captured her huge smile as she ran toward me and then pictures of the big old kiss she laid on me. Then more snapshots of us hustling down the corridor hand in hand to our getaway vehicle.

I wasn’t sure I even breathed until we were out of the maze of one-way streets surrounding the new stadium and out on the interstate with no signs of pursuit.

Rowan was quiet. Too quiet.

“Okay, Coach. Let me have it. How mad are you?”

“I’m . . . stunned. I have a million questions.”

“Hit me with them.”

“Are we going back for my stuff that’s in the dressing room?” She gestured to her uniform. “Because I don’t want to wear this any longer than I have to.”

“I’ll strip it off you, baby. As soon as possible. Don’t you worry about that.”

She whapped me on the leg. “Jensen. I’m serious.”

“Your stuff is in the back. The ever-efficient Astrid got it all from Daisy.”

“Oh.”

“I know the next question is about Calder. Your parents are taking him to the big party at my parents’ house.”