Impossible To Resist (BWWM Romance Book 1)

Impossible To Resist (BWWM Romance Book 1)

Lacey Legend




Chapter1

Why aren't they cheering? Didn't I make it? Did I drop the ball? No, I can feel the ball in my hands. Penalty? Damn, who fucked up? I'm gonna kill whatever sonofabitch took away my touchdown. Why can't I move? Get off me, fool! I'm down, get the fuck off me!

“Calm down, Jump, we've got you.”

“Breathe, man, you're gonna be fine.”

“We’re getting a cart, Jump, don't try to move.”

Cart? Why do we need a cart? What's going on?

“Ready? One. Two. Three.”

Jared’s moving. What the hell is happening? He's immobile, why is he immobile? Why won't somebody tell him what's happening? Flashes, lots of flashes. The buzzing fluorescent lights of the tunnel fly by. Paul leans over him, his gnarled face grim. Jared sees his reflection in Paul’s glasses, neck brace. Dammit.

“Jump, it's gonna be okay. We're gonna head straight to the hospital. They're gonna be ready for us. You're gonna be okay, I promise.”

Paul leaves his line of vision but Jared can hear him shouting instructions.

“We’re gonna give you something for the pain, Jump.”

He didn't feel the injection but Jared “Jump” Jackson could feel his football career fading with his consciousness.

“You’re sure this guy won’t run right to the press?” Jared asked his agent.

“Of course, Jump.”

Derek didn’t even look up from his phone. He rarely did these days. Jared’s surprised he even agreed to escort him to his temporary home.

“He signed the gag order, then?” Jared continued.

“Patient confidentiality applies here.”

Derek sounded annoyed. Why did he even come?

“Because that made a difference for Andre Masters,” Jared mumbled stubbornly.

He remembered when the news broke on his predecessor’s career-ending injury. Andre hadn't expected it and definitely could have kept more money if he'd just kept the lid on it for another few months.

“That leak was not from his medical team,” Derek insisted.

“That's not what the papers said,” Jared argued, “and that guy lost his job over it.”

“Indeed,” Derek actually looked up from his phone, “and then he landed a job as a trainer for the Pirates making three times what he made before. Do you think that would have happened if he'd been the leak?”

Jared considered his agent’s argument but just responded with a lazy shrug. He shouldn't have been surprised. Pro football was nothing like he expected it to be. There's so much more than playing the game. His image, his partying, his clothes – everything became a strategy. Just like rehabbing in this Podunk Midwestern town while the media camped out at his homes in L.A. and Houston where they expected him to be.

Maybe a few would even make their way to his parents’ ranch in Montana but nobody would ever think to look here. Jared watched the skyscrapers disappear as they wove through the suburbs to the house he rented for the next several months. He scratched his face, hating the beard he grew for additional camouflage.

Bitterness flared in his chest as Jared evaluated the tiny ranch home tucked back in a cul-de-sac and surrounded by several nearly identical, bland homes. An all-star athlete worth millions of dollars and he had to settle with this little piece of crap; pissed didn’t even cover Jared’s feelings on the matter.

"Welcome home," Derek said casually, eyes trained on his phone.

He hopped out of the rented SUV and headed for the house leaving Jared to clumsily navigate his own way out with the crutches he was relegated to for the time being.

It’s a good thing Jared was athletic or climbing out of this car with crutches and the leg and back braces would have been impossible. He hobbled clumsily up the driveway, attempting to avoid the weed-filled cracks breaking the cement slab in awkward places. The small walkway to the door was even worse than the drive and then he had to climb two uneven steps to the porch, perhaps the only thing he liked about the hideous puke-colored house, so far. Jared could see himself enjoying a beer on this porch – probably several, actually. Thankfully, Derek opened the rickety screen door for him and stepped aside so Jared could enter.

“Maris will be cleaning up after you every Monday and Friday when you are at PT. If you leave her a grocery list, she can handle your shopping, too.” Derek began the rundown but Jared knew he had it in an email somewhere. “Rick will be your driver the entire time you're here. He's signed the forms and understands the consequences of giving up your secret. You are set to check in with Dr. Radlinski at the hospital every two weeks and he will update the team on your status. He's one of the best orthopedic specialists in the nation so if anybody can get you back in shape, he can.”

“Yep.” Jared’s heard this all before. A lot. “I have cable, right?”

“Nope, I got you a dish with all the channels, man. Only the best for Jump Jackson’s rehab. We have to have you in tip top shape for a comeback.” Derek clasped his hands together, his nervous tic. At least the smooth-talking agent had enough grace to realize he was being a dick. “I think that's it. I have a flight to catch but I will check in soon. If you change your mind and decide you want a nurse or a companion, we can make that happen.”

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