And that’s when it hits me.
“Let’s make some noise,” I whisper.
I throw up my hands, gesturing for the crowd to pump it up. They’re slow to respond, so I cup my ear in anI can’t hear youpose. The first few rows start a D-fence chant and I thrust my paw in the air before turning to the next section and giving them the samemake some noisegesture.
They’re faster to respond and then I’m on the jumbotron in full view of the entire stadium, raising Wildcat Nation to their feet in support of the defense. The crowd noise is so loud, I can’t hear myself think. There’s no way the offense will hear the play call.
Michigan snaps the ball as the crowd reaches a fever pitch and—
Yes!Yesyesyes.
One of our defenders sacks the quarterback, laying him flat-out on his back, and I punch both fists into the air in a wild victory dance.
“This is it, folks. Fourth and long,” the announcer says, clearly feeling the momentum shift. “If the Wildcats can make the stop, they take possession and have an opportunity to run the clock down.”
The teams line up for what might be the most critical play of the game, and I do my best to get the crowd back into the play. I don’t know if the noise helped the defense or not, but it sure as hell didn’t hurt.
Michigan snaps the ball, and the quarterback tries to punch through the D-line. He gets tackled at the line of scrimmage and the crowd goes nuts.
As predicted, Coach Collins runs down the clock and the Wildcats win by three.
Pride swells in my chest as the guys celebrate on the field and when Devin removes his helmet, revealing sweat-slick hair and the world’s biggest smile, my belly flips.
He deserves this.
For the first time, I find myself truly invested in the Wildcats’ success. Not because failure on my part means expulsion, but because Devin and the other guys on the team have worked hard. Stood up to the pressure. Given Wildcat Nation hope.
Sure, some of them are undeserving douche canoes, but they just might be the minority.
When the cheer squad files off the field and through the tunnel, I hang back.
Most of the players have left the field, but not all of them.
I linger in the hall near the team locker room, and my patience is rewarded when Devin rounds the corner, helmet tucked under his arm.
He grins when he spots me, that gorgeous smile transforming his handsome face, softening the hard angles. “Now, this is what I call a pleasant surprise.”
I wave awkwardly.
Because of course I didn’t think this through.
If I had, I’d have remembered I can’t actually talk because…mascot.
Then again, who needs words?
I crook a finger and gesture for Parker to follow.
His grin widens, and he trails me around the corner to a tiny nook that serves who knows what purpose. We can’t be seen by anyone glancing down the hall. Someone would have to walk right past to spot us, which shouldn’t be a problem because this won’t take long.
“Was it my imagination or were you cheering extra hard during the fourth quarter?” he asks, backing me up against the cinderblock wall.
I hold up my paws in aWho knows?gesture.
Devin’s a big guy, but with his pads, he’s huge. His broad shoulders nearly span the width of the nook and though he’s sweat soaked and dirty, he’s never looked sexier.
“Hmm.” His gaze slides over me and even though I’m covered from head to toe in fur, he must like what he sees because heat flares in his eyes. “The teeth are a nice touch,” he says, voice like gravel. “But they have to go if I’m going to kiss you.”
Yes, please.
