Janus smiled, but he didn’t feel like celebrating. He wanted all of these people to get the hell out of here and for a certain dark haired beauty with gorgeous brown eyes to walk in and kiss him until he felt better. Where was Stevie? Surely she’d heard about the game by now. It was probably all over the news. So even if she didn’t watch the games live, she would have heard about it and that two of the Seahawk players were out for the rest of the season.
“Is my phone around here somewhere?” he asked, scanning the room.
Coach Dean grabbed a bag that had been set on a chair. “Your stuff from Sunday is all in here. But if there’s anything else that you need, just let me know. The team is going to assign a personal assistant to help you through this time.” He pulled Janus’ phone out of a pocket, and handed it to him. “Here you go.”
Janus flipped through the apps until he came to the phone. No calls. No text messages. Nothing. Not a word from Stevie.
He had about five hundred texts and phone calls from others, but nothing from the one person he really wanted to talk to.
Why hadn’t she called him? Or texted? He’d thought that Stevie was different. Had he been so wrong about her? Had he completely misinterpreted her reactions?
Chapter 6
“Retiring?” A stunned reporter yelped, obviously horrified at even speaking the word. “But…you’re just at the peak of your career!”
Janus glared at the man, ignoring the pain shooting through his right leg. His ribs still ached, but he could finally move around a little. “I’ve been playing football since I was about six years old,” he said with an outward calm that he definitely didn’t feel. In reality, he was livid. That ass Rockwell had been censured and fined, kicked off of the team, and no other team would touch him. But that wasn’t what was bothering Janus. It was the lack of communication from Stevie. It had been over a week. He’d been in the hospital, flooded with visitors, not to mention doctors and nurses who just wanted to stop by and say hello, congratulate him on the victory, and wish him a fast recovery. He’d been gifted with so many flowers and gifts that he’d ordered the hospital staff to stop delivering them, asking them to deliver them to other people’s rooms instead.
But none of those well-wishers were the person he really wanted to hear from. They weren’t a soft, dark-haired, brown eyed kindergarten teacher who lit up a room with her smile.
Furthermore, he was disgusted with the number of women who wanted to “help his recovery” by offering their services. Women had been stopping by his room so often that he’d demanded the hospital and team put a guard up to keep them away. It was ridiculous how many women tried to sneak into his hospital room, some of them stripping naked as soon as they entered.
“Do you think you might be hasty in your decision?” another reporter called out. “After all, the doctors say that you’ll make a full recovery in a couple of months. That’s enough time to get in shape for next season.”
Janus fought to keep himself from rolling his eyes. “I’ve been very lucky in my career with the NFL,” he responded as diplomatically as possible. “But after last week’s tackle, I’ve reevaluated my priorities. I think it’s time for a career change.”
“What are your plans?” another asked.
He shrugged, smothering the wince when his ribs protested. “I have several businesses that I’ll be focusing on in the future.” He didn’t add that his ultimate goal was to still be involved in the sport, just not on the team. Even now, Roy was negotiating behind the scenes.
After helping get his team to the Super Bowl three times over the past five years, not to mention many other lucrative years in the NFL, Janus was a very wealthy man. He hadn’t ever been the kind of guy who went out and bought ten cars and hit the strip clubs, buying attention from ladies by throwing cash around.
Instead, he’d invested his money, bought restaurants, bars, and other businesses. Those businesses earned him more money than football ever could. What’s more, he wouldn’t be tackled to the ground by an ass with a vendetta.
Nope, he’d done extremely well, both on and off the field. Now it was time to put the next phase of his life into play.
“Is there any chance that you’ll change your mind and come back to the sport once you’ve had a bit of time to recover and re-evaluate?” Another reporter called out.
Janus smiled, but it was one of cold determination. “Anything is possible,” he replied.
There were a series of other questions called out to him and he forced himself to answer as many as he could. He didn’t want to alienate the press. Plus, he might need the publicity in the future.
Over the years, Janus had developed a policy to never close doors. But as he hobbled away from the conference room an hour later, there was one door he was definitely slamming shut! His rage ate at him like acid as the pain burned through his body, coming from different angles depending on how he moved. Rage towards one beautiful, selfish, silent woman.
Never again would he make himself vulnerable, he vowed. Never again.
Chapter 7
Four months later…
Stevie stared at the plastic stick, her heart pounding in her chest. Positive. She was pregnant.
She tried to think. Tried to make sense of the test that…didn’t make any sense! Even now, her heart still ached from the loss of her mother back in September. After arranging her mother’s funeral and shutting down her mother’s life, Stevie had finally looked at her phone, desperately hoping to see
