False Start: A Football Romance Read Online Free Page A

have missed me too, if my heel hadn’t caught in the groove of two bricks, making it impossible for me to move out of the way. We collide in a messy heap on the side of Parkway Avenue.
    Honestly, can today get any worse?
    Yes. Yes, it can.

Chapter Six
     
    Callum
     
    I can’t believe my eyes.
    At first, I wonder if my mind's playing tricks on me again or if she’s really standing there looking as perfect as the day she told me she didn’t love me anymore. Then I notice her belly, and I know this is real because even in my most drawn out, fucked up fantasies, I’ve never imagined her pregnant.
    Why would I?
    I don’t want a kid.
    Not anymore.
    Maybe at one point in my life, when I thought she loved me and that we were going to grow old together, I would have been excited about the thought of a family.
    But not now.
    I just got started in my career, and I’m on my way to becoming the next Peyton Manning. A kid would ruin all that. Of course, suggesting she needs money for an abortion probably wasn’t the best idea either, but I couldn’t think past the feel of her soft as fuck fingers against my skin and the belly sticking out past her hips. I opened my mouth, and whatever I was thinking just blurted out.
    She left me again.
    She’s getting really good at that walking away thing. When she wakes up, I should ask her how she manages not to care so easily. It sure as fuck would make my life a hell of a lot simpler if I could get her out of my head and out of my fucking heart.
    “Mr. Johnson?” A tall, blonde woman with come fuck me breasts calls my name.
    “Yes?” I stand and walk over to her, rolling my eyes at the way she scans up and down my body like I’m some sort of delicacy and she is starving to try me. She stands taller, arching her ass out and pushing her breasts forward, not that they need any help in being noticed. Her cheeks blush a bright pink hue that I would find adorable if I could think of anyone or anything other than Amelia. I wait for her to speak, but she seems to be unable.
    “How is she?” I ask, hoping to prod something from her bright red sealed lips.
    “Oh, the patient. Yes. She is fine. We have her in a room now, if you would like to see her.” She offers the last as an offhand comment, hoping that I won't accept the offer.
    “Thanks.” I stick my hand out, gesturing for her to lead the way. I don’t know if she is a nurse or an intern here or what, but I refuse to speak to her about Amelia any more. I want to see the doctor.
    Now.
    We walk down a series of hallways, making numerous turns left and then right. I’m starting to wonder if she is taking me in circles, hoping I'll change my mind, when we finally come to stand outside door number 340, where she pauses one more time. I raise my eyebrows questioningly and give a gentle shake of the head when she finally moves out of the way.
    Nothing against the poor girl, but she just isn't my type. No one is. Unlike some people, I can't just take a beating and get back up on the proverbial horse. Not off the field, anyway.
    My heart, mind, and body still belong to someone else.
    No matter how much I wish that weren't the case.
    I take a deep breath and push the door open. God bless her. My heart breaks at the sight before me. She looks completely helpless, lying there hooked to countless machines. One of them is wrapped around her stomach and leads straight to a monitor with squiggly lines across it. I have no idea what any of them are. I don’t care. The only thing I care about is the fact that she is okay.
    “Hey,” I say, catching her attention.
    She jumps when she hears my voice, and I feel bad for the way we left things the last time we talked. The thought that something could have happened to her and that would have been the last thing I ever said to her will haunt me for a while.
    “Hey?” She asks, clearly curious about my presence in her room. I’m about to explain when the man of the hour walks in.
    “Miss Hart. How