In a weird way, it was like watching a dance. The way Mateo bounced on his toes, head on a swivel as he looked for an open player. Players clashed in front and beside him, but like a well-oiled team, his defense blocked any opposing players from getting to their quarterback.
“RUN!” Both Josie and Wyatt bellowed beside me.
I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Mateo’s form as he suddenly darted to the left, an opposing player right on his tail. I swore he flew down the field as he ducked and weaved around players, football held tightly in his arm.
Beside me, the entire Boone family was standing and screaming. I didn’t even realize I was doing the same until my own yell reached my ears.
Mateo was well past the marker for a first down, still making his way down the field toward the end zone. He was going to do it. He was going to score a touchdown with only minutes left in the game.
“Run, Mateo!” I yelled, hands now clenching the railing in front of me.
A player came up on his side, making a move to tackle him, but at the last second, another body hit the guy, sendingthem both to the ground. I wasn’t sure who it was, but I knew it was one of the Titans.
The end zone was just a few feet away as Mateo twisted on a dime to avoid two players, feet slipping for just a moment on the grass. It didn’t seem to faze him because he kept running.
It was like slow motion as he neared the line only to have someone come up beside him out of the blue and slam into him. I let out a gasp as the two players tumbled forward, tangled together.
For a split second, I wondered if he didn’t make it until a whistle blew, followed by a gray and silver uniform jumping up, ball held over their head. It took a full moment for the screams to reach my ears as I stared at Mateo standing in the end zone.
He did it. He scored.
Jake and Perry all but tackled him in celebration. Hands grabbed my shoulders, turning me to the left. Tasha jumped up and down, screaming in my face. Only a millisecond passed before I followed suit. Grabbing her forearms as the two of us yelled together, everyone else around us celebrated as well.
“That’s how you do it,” Wyatt bellowed as Mateo and the others ran for the sidelines. There was only a minute left on the clock with no way for the other team to win.
My cheeks hurt from smiling as the team patted Mateo on the back. He walked through, slipping his helmet off. My stomach tugged at the sight of him shaking his head, hair a shade darker from sweat sticking to his forehead. I had no idea sweat could be so hot, but it was.
When he reached the side where we were all sitting, he glanced up, eyes landing on me. Not Josie, or his brothers, or his mom—me. The look he gave had me clenching the railing even tighter.
He looked irresistible. All the noise and people around me faded as I stared back. My entire focus narrowed down to him, helmet dangling from his fingers, shoulders heaving from the play, a smug hint of victory in the way he held himself.
I couldn’t stop the proud smile that pulled at my lips, knowing that incredible man was mine.
23
EMMIE
Istood at the edge of the room, watching other players greet their family and friends. It was mildly entertaining seeing the difference in how players greeted their wives and girlfriends compared to the ones who had jersey chasers hanging off their arms. It was clear from the side-eyes that the WAGS, wives and girlfriends of professional athletes, didn’t appreciate them being here.
A few times, I wondered if any of the women were here for Mateo. I never knew myself to be a jealous person, and typically, I wasn’t, but the thought of anyone else being in this room for him made my vision tunnel.
Thankfully, it was just me here and not Mateo’s family. Otherwise, my glaring at other women would give away how I felt. They were currently on their way to their hotel to get the kids and then would be heading over to Mateo’s apartment to get everything ready for dinner. The others didn’t know I would be there when they said their goodbyes after the game, but the glint in Josie’s eyes said she did. Once Mateo was done with the press, that’s where the two of us were going.
I fidgeted with the hem of the jersey as the room slowly started to empty. I knew doing press after a game was mandatory, but they took a while. I was impatient, waiting to see Mateo. I debated if I should congratulate him on the win first or give him hell for not telling me his family would be seated right next to me.
With just me in the empty room, I scrolled through my phone, posting on social media before I forgot. One thing no one knew about in the skating world was the social media side. Having to post for sponsors and teasing routines and outfits for upcoming competitions was a full-time job. I had a few sponsorships that I had to post regularly for and talk about.
I was about to turn my phone off when it buzzed in my hand. I frowned as a notification popped up, saying someone followed me. It was nothing new, but the username caught my eye. Without hesitating, I clicked on the profile, shaking my head as Mateo’s name appeared.
Unable to help myself, I looked through his page, seeing a bunch of posts about his family and him during practice in his football uniform. The one that made me pause was the one of him shirtless, posing for Men’s Magazine.
I zoomed in, eyeing his abdominal muscles, the same ones I traced with my fingers and tongue. Man, he really was insanely hot.
I looked up as footsteps headed my way. Seconds later, Mateo appeared in the doorway.
“Did you just follow me?” were the first words out of my mouth.
“Figured staring at your page without following was a bit creepy,” Mateo said, leaning his shoulder against the door frame, duffle bag by his side. His brown hair was damp from a post-game shower, and his blue eyes were bright.
