Wanted Distraction Read Online Free PDF Page A

and I saw a different opportunity. They’ll give me the chance to get the operation and still be their star.”
    “Oh, Carter.” I reached over and placed my hand atop his. “I’m so sorry.”
    He looked miserable as he said, “I need this season. I need to kick ass on that field and take the team to the championship game to prove my worth. The contract I signed is for an unprecedented amount, and I have to show the team and management I’m worth it.”
    “That’s a lot of pressure to put on yourself.”
    “I don’t have a choice.” The conviction in his voice—mixed with a hint of resignation—was compelling, and it further stirred my emotions. “This stint with the Rattlers will likely be my last. They know about my arm, but offered me a three-year deal anyway. I assured them I could win games for the term of the contract. And they really wanted me. Now I’ve got to see this through, because no other team is going to pick me up if I continually have complications with my shoulder and am constantly on the DL.”
    “But if your shoulder and your arm aren’t strong enough for you to throw the ball—”
    “I’ve been muscling through the pain for some time. I can make it through the end of this season. I have no choice,” he repeated, a dire look on his face.
    A disconcerting thought slithered through my mind. “Not to cast a dark cloud over your head, Carter, but what if you do make it through the season, have the surgery and it doesn’t work? What if you’re no better off than before the operation? I’ve heard of that happening. I have a friend who had rotator cuff surgery years ago for a tennis injury and she’s still in pain.”
    He shook his head. “I refuse to even consider that, Cherish. Even a little help will be something, so if it’s not one-hundred percent successful, I’ll still be able to power through.”
    “For two more seasons?” My stomach coiled at the thought of him playing in agony. “That’s a lot, Carter. I mean, seriously. You could even end up doing more damage.”
    “I’ll have some of the best physical therapists at my disposal. Not to mention, I’ve already chosen a top-notch surgeon who specializes in this type of injury. I know what I’m doing.”
    He finally slid his tie off, tossing the colorful material toward his discarded jacket. Then he undid two buttons on his shirt. His elbows rested on his thighs and his hands dangled between them, giving him an almost defeated look.
    I placed a hand on his good shoulder and said, “I’m sure it’ll all work out.” I wanted to support him. To be his own personal cheerleader, despite my reservations.
    He glanced over at me and smiled, though it was a bit tentative. “Thanks.” His gaze remained locked with mine for several breathless seconds, and then he leaned toward me and kissed me on the cheek. “The body might be different, but you’re still very sweet.”
    I smiled. “You still give me butterflies.”
    “I had no idea,” he said. “You didn’t say anything after I kissed you at prom. The song ended and you rushed over to your table, grabbed your stuff and hurried out.”
    Shrugging a shoulder, I told him, “I had to call my mom for a ride, since my date was obviously taking someone else home. And I didn’t really know what to make of that kiss.”
    It had been the perfect first kiss. Without tongue, just our lips tangling together. I’d felt its effect all the way to my toes. Interestingly, his simple peck on the cheek did the same thing to me.
    “I had two choices that night,” he said. “Punch your date in the face or dance with you.”
    “Made me much less of a loser to be seen dancing with you.”
    “You were never a loser. You just went to prom with the wrong guy.”
    He still leaned toward me and I could smell a hint of his cologne. I wanted to close my eyes and inhale deeply, but I couldn’t bring myself to break the intense eye contact.
    I said, “The right guy didn’t ask me to prom.