I swear it’s not that crazy.
Maverick
Okay, it’s kinda crazy, but I need youuuuu
I stare at his messages, choosing not to answer.
I’m not ready to dive into whatever wild scheme he has planned.
maverick
. . .
She said no.
So basically, I’m fucked.
Fuck It Up by Disco Lines blares through the stadium speakers.
Sweat trickles down the back of my neck as my cleats dig in the turf, shifting on the line, eyeing JP across the field. He’s bouncing on his toes like he’s waiting for me to fuck up.
We’re in pre-season, we gotta stay focused.
Overhead, the sun is high and punishing, baking the aluminum bleachers, making the whole stadium shimmer with heat waves. The sharp scent of that strange, lingering smell of turf rubber that clings to your skin no matter how hard you scrub.
Welcome to the NFL, baby.
“Let’s rerun it,” I bark, gesturing my hands at JP. “You’d better move this time, rookie.”
JP flips me off and grins. “Don’t trip on your ego, Hayes.”
I bark a laugh, tugging at my helmet, huffing as I jog back into formation.
I’ve been spiraling since Amelia hung up on me, and she didn’t text me back.
Goddamn it.
I hike the ball and get into motion, adrenaline rushing. My body reacts to this play as if it were muscle memory.
Five-step drop. Scan. Plant. Fire.
The ball cuts through the air, smacking into JP’s hands just as he dives across the field.
Cheers explode from the guys.
“WOOOO!” Pierce yells from behind me. “Mav’s finally focused!”
I grin, trying to keep my breathing steady.
“Tell your mom I’ll be focused tonight, too,” I shoot back, slapping JP on the ass as I jog past.
The sideline erupts.
“You wish you could handle my mom!” Pierce shouts.
“Bro,” JP groans, “Mav is so fucking full of himself.”
I turn around, still jogging backward. “And yet, I’m the one your sister follows on Instagram.”
