Page 2 of (La)Crosse My Heart (Sweet Sports Kisses #7)

Clark

I find my bag from the baggage carousel at the airport, grateful it’s one of the first ones out. All I want is a shower and a good long nap. I’m exhausted after my early flight from Chicago. Maybe it’s more than the flight that’s causing me to wish I could sleep for the next seventy-two hours.

As excited as I was to find out I’ll be receiving endorsements from a few lacrosse gear companies, some of that waned when I realized I’m not the best actor in the world. Actually, a dried sponge has more personality than I do when a camera is in my face.

I knew it was a possibility, but spending an entire weekend to not be finished with the media kit they wanted is humbling. Not finishing even one section of it is demoralizing.

Lacrosse players don’t make the money football or baseball players do, but we’re slowly clawing our way up in the world of professional sports.

For the past three years of my professional career, I’ve been a firefighter during the off-season.

It’s weird to think I might not have to go back in the fall.

But a miracle will have to happen to fulfill my end of the bargain.

I feel like instead of making improvements with each take, I only got worse when the camera turned on. I’m an athlete, not an actor.

I came out of the dressing room at one point and heard one director say, “He might be a pretty face, but he won’t sell anything with that attitude.”

I didn’t think I had an attitude. And it wasn’t like I didn’t try to take instruction. I’m an athlete, so most of my life has been listening to a coach or a mentor. The only way to get better is to try new things.

They wanted me to stick around for another few days, but practice starts this afternoon. I’m not missing that if I can help it. My years are numbered playing this intense sport, and I want to soak up every opportunity while I still can.

Which means I need to go to therapy or something to help with my nerves.

Maybe I don’t look approachable when I’m just hanging out, but that’s not the worst thing in the world, right? So, I’m supposed to fly out again before games begin. I guess I should learn a few pointers on how to be a better spokesperson.

At least I’m home.

Well, it’s kind of home. Right now it’s got more space on the inside than most homeowners, but I’m still kind of a college kid at heart. No, I haven’t pulled a recliner from a dumpster to use daily, but I’m trying to wait until I’ve got a little more in my bank account to get a few nicer items.

The house is my first big purchase, one that only slightly makes me feel like an adult.

But it’s better than throwing away money on a rental and I’ve got a few of my teammates helping with the costs.

Did I think I’d be a landlord by the time I was twenty-five?

No, and while it sounds cool, we’ve had to have the plumbers come out twice since we moved in six months ago.

I might need to get toilets that can handle a bunch of men who are barely out of the teenage years.

The rideshare driver drops me off in front of my house just as the sun peeks over the mountains to the east of my house. As much as I love the east coast, where I grew up, there are so many advantages to living here. This place is beautiful.

I take a moment to breathe and then glance around.

Nora, our ninety-one-year-old neighbor, is already outside with her walker, bent over her flower garden.

I’d love to get some sleep before practice, but I’d rather keep Nora out of the hospital for as long as possible. She’s like my adopted grandmother.

“What do you have there?” I say, setting my bags on the front porch and walking over to her.

She must not’ve heard me because she startles when she turns to see me a foot away.

“Oh, Clark. I didn’t see you coming. What are you doing up at this hour?” she asks.

I grin and say, “I should ask you the same thing.”

“Well, I don’t sleep well anymore, and it’s not as hot if I get out here early to weed the flowers.”

“What if you sit and tell me a story while I weed? It looks like you’ve got a few new ones since I left this weekend. You can always ask any of us to help, you know,” I say, gesturing to the house.

“You’re all so busy, and I hate to be a burden.”

“Well, one of us will be over to mow your lawn later.”

She gets tears in her eyes and reaches over to take my hand. She gives it a squeeze and says, “Thank you, son. That means more than you can imagine.”

I kneel, pulling weeds from the soft ground for the next thirty minutes as I listen to Nora tell me stories about her life. She’s seen a lot, and it’s interesting for me to learn about the past that isn’t in a watered-down version of history from school.

“Have you met the woman who moved in across the street?” Nora asks, grinning. I turn to see the rental sign from the lawn straight across from us is gone.

“I didn’t know anyone was renting it out. Do we need to worry about her?” I say, giving Nora a wide grin. “How do you know it’s a woman?”

She chuckles softly and says, “There’s not much that happens in this neighborhood I don’t know about. She looks to be young. Maybe your age. If you want, I’ll be your wing woman and get more information.”

The image of this sweet white-haired woman trying to get phone numbers of ladies for me to date makes me laugh.

“I think we’ll be okay,” I say. “Lacrosse is starting, and I won’t have much time for anything, even dating.”

Nora shakes her head and tsks at me. “You’re only young once. Don’t get too caught up in life that you miss out on something great.”

I nod, knowing the sentiment is well-intentioned, but I don’t know if it applies to me right now.

I’m only twenty-five and have only ever been married to my sport.

The women I’ve been with didn’t like the laser-focus I have to getting better and staying in shape, which means I’ve never really had a long-term girlfriend.

“Maybe I’ll make a treat to take her. I can always use help taking it over, though.”

I nod. “I’m sure Burton would love to help with that.”

At just over six feet tall and with some muscle to round it out, I’m nowhere near as intimidating as my teammate Burton. He’s the tallest guy on the team and has me beat by at least thirty pounds. But when he’s with Nora, you’d think he was a giant teddy bear.

I clean up the pile of weeds and dump them in the bag she has next to her. Then I take it over to the outdoor garbage can and throw it away.

“Thank you for your help, Clark. I’ll have to make dinner to say thank you for all you boys do.”

I shake my head. “It’s good for us to help you.”

As much as I love Nora, I’m a little nervous that whatever she feeds us has either got freezer burn or is way past the normal expiration date.

I help her into the house and then head over to grab my bags from the porch. A sound causes me to turn, and I look over at the small house across the street. Am I curious about the renter?

Maybe, but I don’t have time to dwell on it.

If my mom was living here, she would’ve already picked up some kind of treat to go meet the new neighbor. Me, on the other hand? I’m just hoping there’s no drama.

I take a quick nap and then start prepping for the first day of practice. There’s a lot I’ve learned about how my body performs best, and a good stretch and warm-up are key. It’s when I get to the arena, almost in the locker room, that I glance up to see Coach waving me over.

“Hey, Coach Martin,” I say.

“Clark, it’s good to see you. Although, it sounds like things didn’t go so well in Chicago?”

I frown and look up at him, confused. “How do you know about that already?” I ask.

“We’re a small organization, Clark. Things get around fast.”

“I promise I tried,” I say, sighing. “Acting has never been my forte.”

“We all know that,” Coach Martin says with a laugh. “Your face backs it up.”

I let my frown deepen, knowing everything I feel shows right there on my face—that’s what keeps getting me into trouble.

“Don’t worry,” Coach says, patting me on the back. “We’ve got someone called in to help you with that.”

“Please say you didn’t hire a plastic surgeon or something,” I say, shaking my head.

Coach Martin laughs louder than I’ve ever heard before. “Hopefully it won’t come to that, but I guess we can always keep it as an option later.”

It’s a good thing I know him well, because I haven’t had a coach as chill as Coach Martin before.

“Hilarious, Coach,” I deadpan.

“Okay, so I just got word today from the managing company. Looks like they’re pairing you up with someone to help with your ads.”

Frustration rears its head, and I shake it off. “I don’t need that, Coach,” I say.

“From what I’ve heard about this past weekend, you definitely do.”

I don’t like how serious he’s being about this. “I’ll be fine. It just takes some time for me to get used to the cameras.”

“Clark, it seems like you had a hard time, even when you were holding a lacrosse stick. And that’s your normal, everyday face, right?” He points to me, and I try not to frown, which isn’t working.

I close my eyes and wish the humiliation from this weekend hadn’t followed me home. “What are they going to do? Give me facial exercises?” I ask.

Coach shakes his head. “That, I’m not really sure about. I just know that with you as our main franchise player, we need to use you as the face of the team.”

“Can I get a card that says ‘Get Out of Jail Free’?” I ask, cracking a smile.

“If I don’t get one, then neither do you,” Coach says, his smile not as bright now.

That makes me think he has to do things he’s uncomfortable with, too.

“Do you know who I’m working with? It’s a long shot, but I’d be more comfortable if I didn’t have to stress about spending a lot of time with someone I barely know.”

“I can’t remember the first name, but I think the last name was Stratton.”

I frown. “Brock?”

Coach shakes his head. “That doesn’t sound familiar.”

Who am I kidding? I would only luck out if my friend from high school was the one to help me reform my “struggle face.” He has a sister, but the chances of Jessa leaving Virginia to live in Utah seem pretty slim.

She always loved the idea of traveling and trying new things—as long as it didn’t involve leaving her hometown of Alexandria for more than a week at a time.

I’ll just have to worry about that later.

“Get out there, work hard, and show the team you’re ready to be captain this year.”

I do a double take and stare at Martin. “For real?”

He nods. “I think if you can fix things with your endorsements and with everything else we’re doing, I don’t see why you couldn’t wear the C.”

I smile then, knowing I still have a lot of work to do before I can earn that honor—but it’s definitely something I want. I’ve put a lot into this sport, and leading the team to a postseason victory would be the ultimate accomplishment.