“Get out of here,” Julia hissed before she looked at me. “Sorry. He’s dramatic and a big goof.”
I laughed. “Will he be close in case you do drop this baby?”
“He’ll just be up one level. He does photography for Sports Plus.” She danced her hand across her small belly again. “And I still have a few months left. He needs to keep cooking at least until Christmas.”
Warmth spread through my chest. They clearly loved each other and I hated to admit a spark of jealousy lit inside of me. Of that easy flow. The trust. The history.The family.It was something I wanted, just didn’t know if it was something I could grasp. It’s not like I’d had good role models to show me what real love even looked like.
We started to head to the entrance of the tunnel when the band picked up again. The doors to the locker room opened, my father took the lead, followed by Theo, Wesley, Shaw, then a slew of team members. My heart thudded as I watched the two who tailed the entourage. Preston spoke low to Krew, whoseexpression was stoic. He was focused. Krew passed us first, and I held my breath as Preston’s eyes lifted from the ground, like he couldn’t help but seek out mine. The contact was brief, but the fire in my veins was lasting.
One look was almost too much.
I blew out a breath before I followed Julia onto the field. This was going to be a long season.
It was the fourth quarter, with three minutes on the clock. I never expected the first game to be this strenuous on my nervous system. It seemed like every time we scored, they replicated it, leaving us down by three points. My father was stone. It was interesting to see how each coach handled their delivery. My father was stern but clear. Knowledge and execution. Theo seemed to communicate in grunts and points, drawing on a square dry-erase board as he gave instructions. Shaw was the motivation. The man slapping backs and stoking the fire. Then there was Preston. Calm and collected. He was observant, meticulous, and was always one step ahead.
The minutes moved quickly, the snaps following suit. There was tension. Shouts. Flags. But as the clock readeightseconds on the final down, Preston murmured something into his headpiece, Krew’s eyes catching his as he spoke to the huddle. My palms ached from the tight clench, and when Krew danced back, searching for the opening, I could barely breathe.
Four.
Three
Two.
Touchdown Cougars.
A scream tore from my throat as the crowd roared. Julia cheered next to me, whistling between her fingers as the players surged across the field. My gaze traveled around the stadium, a sense ofpeaceradiating through my chest.
“And that’s how it’s done!” My father’s voice bellowed before he wrapped an arm around my shoulder, giving me a hug before his grin split wide. “Get ready. These boys will be sore come Monday.”
I chuckled as he headed for the head coach of the other team, while I hung back to watch the celebration. A flicker of turquoise caught my eye. The aqua-coloredNIKEshirt Preston wore came into view when my eyes lifted. He was grinning. Proud and beautiful. It made my breath stall. As if he felt me from yards away, he glanced over, that grin turning into a flirty smirk. My breath lodged in my throat at the simple glance, but I couldn’t turn away.
Not until a tall blonde with a microphone stepped into my line of sight, her smile just as bright as his. With a smooth move, she placed her hand on his forearm, the familiarity sending a plummet to my stomach. The single touch, coupled with the batting of her lashes, was enough to shock me back to reality. The reality that Preston Rusk was anything but my type. And strictly off-limits.
15
Preston
I watched Trinity rip her eyes away from me, a blank expression masking her face the second Sierra put her hands on me. Like she had the fucking right to. She didn’t. Never did, really. It was a few months of random hookups when her schedule aligned with mine. I was clear it was casual. That was when I was still playing with the Panthers. I was younger, stupider, and a good time wasn’t usually out of reach.
When she began using my name like she waswithme to climb her own professional ladder, I cut things off. She wasn’t thrilled. Clearly, because here she is, still clinging to something that would have never worked.
“Preston. Congratulations.” She beamed her dazzling smile, aiming for professional with a side ofinvitation.I’d been to that party and had no interest in going again.
“Thanks.” I cleared my throat, shifting away as her cameraman stepped up.
Her hand dropped, and I could see the flash of anger in her eyes before she aimed her smile at the camera.
“Preston, that sure was a way to kick off some Cougar football. Can you tell us what you’ve been doing to get these guys ready for the season?” She angled her body, placing the microphone under my chin.
“Work hard. Fix mistakes and never give up.” I rolled my playbook in my hand. “We have a long season ahead, but we have a good team. Strong leaders and a drive to win.” I nodded, signaling that was all she was going to get from me.
She made a slicing motion with her hand to the man behind the camera before she faced me.
“First win. Maybe we should celebrate tonight?” Her heels moved closer, while my eyes instinctively searched the crowd.
“Preston?” She urged.
“Sorry. What?” I flickered my eyes back down to her when auburn hair and green eyes didn’t grace the field.
