Gosh, I loved football. I knew it was cheesy, but I literally didn’t know where I would be right now if it wasn’t for football. Heck, I didn’t even know if I’d still be here if I hadn’t had football to focus on after my mom died. This game and Wilder were the two things that had helped me get through the worst time in my life. And even now, it was the main reason I got up in the morning. The one thing that kept my world spinning.
Right on cue, the fog machine put out a huge puff of smoke, telling us it was time to run out onto the field, the music blaring through the speakers and the crowd cheering. This was home for me.
As soon as we got to our side of the field, I scanned the sea of people for Isla. I spotted her in the crowd, sitting with Olivia and Scarlet, each of them wearing her boyfriend’s jersey. Our eyes locked and she stood up, putting her arms out and giving a little shimmy, as if to show off her jersey and the number thirteen that was stretched across her full breasts.
I laughed at how she was playing this up, feeling grateful she was here. Before I could think about what I was doing, I tapped my number on my chest and pointed up at Isla. A huge grin filled her face, but I hurried to look away. Shock and surprise filled me at how I’d done something instinctively that I hadn’t done in six years. I looked at my feet, trying to make sense of why I had done that. I chanced a look at Wilder, and his wide eyes told me he had seen it.
Shit.
How was I going to explain why I had done my pregame move that I used to give to my mom every game? I couldn’t even explain it to myself.
I shook my head subtly, trying to convey to him that I had no clue why I’d done it, and my wild eyes looking back at him seemed to have convinced him of the truth.
He nodded back as if he understood, his nonverbal acceptance helping to ease my worry.
It didn’t mean anything. It couldn’t have meant anything. I hadn’t had someone come to watch me play in so long, it was probably just an old habit. Nothing more.
With that reassuring thought, I got my head back into the game and went over to talk to my defensive coach. I wasn’t going to spend any more time thinking about kissing Isla for the first time, how good Isla looked wearing my jersey, or the fact that I had given her a gesture that used to mean a lot to me.
I was only going to think about stopping Providence’s offense.
And maybe showing off a little. I mean, this was Isla’s first time seeing me in action, and I was her hotshot linebacker boyfriend, after all. Who was I to disappoint?
It was game time.
* * *
By the time we arrived at the Wolf’s Den, it was already packed. To the right, the dance floor looked like it was at full capacity, sweaty bodies swaying to the music pumping out of the speakers. To the left, all the tables and booths were taken except for the chairs that had been left for us by some of our teammates. It always took Wilder, Rush, and me longer to get here since we had to do the post-game press conferences. Behind the dining area was a large, open room that had several groups playing at each of the six pool tables. Everyone was out, energy buzzing in the air.
The cheering and hollering started as soon as we walked in. We’d beaten Providence 31-7, and I’d been on fire, shutting down the opposing offense so many times, I wondered if at one point they’d given up. Having someone in the stands for me had lit something inside me, and I’d been like a brick wall to Providence’s offensive line.
With my arm around Isla’s shoulders, I walked us over to the table where the group was waiting for us. Wilder and Olivia sat across from us, with Rush and Scarlet next to us. A couple of our teammates, Brayden and Ryan, sat close by.
“Slate, that was one hell of a game you had tonight,” Brayden’s loud voice boomed down the table. “I never would have guessed you needed a girlfriend to play at that level.”
Wilder, who was sitting next to Brayden, smacked the back of his head.
Brayden was a cocky son of a bitch, but he was also extremely jealous. He was a good player but nothing that any NFL scouts would look twice at. Scarlet was always saying that he was riding mine and Wilder’s coattails, not just on the field, but off the field as well, using our popularity to try and have the kind of lifestyle he wouldn’t have if it wasn’t for us. He was jealous of how much attention I got from women, and at one point he had tried to go for Olivia when she and Wilder had a falling out. I didn’t really know why we put up with him. We were a team, though, and having good camaraderie—on and off the field—was important.
I gave him a smug smile. “And just when I thought you couldn’t get any more jealous of me.”
He scoffed. “Whatever. With you now off the market, I have even more women vying for my attention.” He glanced down at the blonde who had her hand wrapped around his arm, her chest about to fall out of her shirt.
“Glad you can finally get some action.” I kept my voice calm. “Then maybe your panties won’t be in such a twist.”
Brayden’s face turned red. “I got action before, and you know it. Don’t flatter yourself that you’re the only one women want to sleep with. I’ll have you know I’ve had three—”
“Brayden,” Olivia cut in softly. “That’s enough.”
Her calming voice seemed to get Brayden to come out of his heated state.
“I’m sorry, Olivia.” He nodded at her and took a big breath.
I didn’t fully understand their relationship, and by the way Wilder’s jaw and fist both clenched, he wasn’t a fan of their friendship either. He trusted Olivia, but not Brayden. I had a feeling that Brayden would go for Olivia in a heartbeat if she and Wilder ever broke up.
Brayden raised his glass, looking around the table. “To tonight’s win.”
We all raised our glasses and toasted before drinking, the moment now forgotten as we all broke out into our own conversations.
