“You’re right.” Grabbing my t-shirt, he pulled me to him and planted a hard kiss on my mouth. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yeah, see you tomorrow.” With a deep inhale, I stepped into the hallway, looked both ways and headed to my room. Hopefully, it was late enough Nick would already be in bed.
With ninety-six secondsremaining in the first half, Baylor held possession near the three-yard line. They’d used their running game against us, and if they scored now, we’d be heading into halftime down by ten. Coach Simmons, our defensive coordinator, had called a blitz, and it was crucial I stopped their running back on this play if he came through my zone.
I took my position and watched the Baylor quarterback bark out calls. Their center snapped the ball, and the quarterback handed it off to their running back.
“Fuck.” I exploded toward the runner as he swiveled around our defensive tackles. It was up to me. Throwing my body in his way, I stretched my arms around his waist and twisted round and round until we dropped with me on top of him.
A whistle blew.
He was officially down, and the play was over. I hopped up and held my hand out to him. “You okay, man?” It had been a hard tackle.
“Yeah, I’m good.” The running back tossed the ball to the ref. “Damn it, we lost a yard.” With a scoff, he hung his head and ambled toward his quarterback.
Baylor called a timeout.
I puffed out my chest. Hell yeah, I’d stopped them.
“Great fucking tackle, Dawson.” Penny slapped my shoulder pad.
“Thanks.” My gaze swung to the cheerleaders and Wren, mid-routine.
Wren danced in the line, swinging his narrow hips and thenbackflipped across the sideline three times before falling on his ass.
“What the fuck?” I narrowed my eyes. Was he supposed to do that? I stepped toward him.
Wren rocked on the grass, clutching his ankle while Grace and the other cheerleaders swarmed around him.
“Oh, fuck no.” I rushed toward him and then my arm yanked backward.
“Dawson, hit the field. Time’s up.” With a tight grip on my arm, Penny said, “Is he the one you went to see last night?”
I darted my gaze from him to Wren and back again, my stomach churning. Wren must have fallen wrong on the fucking ankle he’d had problems with.
Our trainer sped to Wren and crouched beside him.
“Dawson, talk to me. We’ve still got time in this half. Are you with me?” He jerked my arm.
I stared at him. Fuck, I had to see if Wren was okay.But the game.I gaped. I had a job to do right now. Wren was in expert hands. We had the best trainers and medics. “I…I, uh, yeah.” I had to focus.
“Great.” Penny patted my helmet, and we jogged into position.
Baylor scoreda touchdown with enough time left for a kickoff and punt return before the half ended. At least their running back hadn’t gotten through my zone, but it still sucked. I sat on the bench, my leg jiggling, while I watched the special teams catch the ball and take a knee. My head was with Wren. How badly had he hurt his ankle? Would he be out for the season? Damn it, I enjoyed having him here with me, distracting as it could be.
As the team stood to enter the tunnel, Casey stepped towardme. “Hey man, are you okay? Wasn’t that your new guy they took off the field?”
“It was.” I breathed through the stitch in my chest. He had it easier. His boyfriend didn’t play sports.
“I’m sorry.” He shook his head. “But you know Nunez will take care of him.”
“Yeah.” I jogged with the team through the tunnel and into the locker room, where guys removed their helmets and prepared for Coach Reid’s analysis and any new strategy he’d come up with.
I glanced down the hallway toward the medical room. Fuck this shit. Holding my helmet by the facemask, I raced through the hallway.
Nunez, one of our new trainers, stood next to a padded treatment table where Wren was lying.
“Wren? How bad is it?” I jogged to his side and snatched his hand.
