Not fully. Just one broken step in the middle of the field, like his body forgot the next instruction.
Even from the stands, I saw his face change.
The grin came slowly.
Dangerously.
Then he lifted one hand and tapped two fingers to his chest, right over where his number would be.
The student section screamed like he had proposed.
My face went hot.
I rolled my eyes and sat down.
But I was smiling.
I hated that too.
I told myself I would be bored because football had always seemed like a sport designed by men who needed more excuses to run into each other. But watching Drew changed it. I started seeing the patterns. The spacing. The timing. The way he used his body to sell one route and cut into another. The way Dante trusted him before the ball even left his hand.
It was violent.
Strategic.
Beautiful in a way I had not expected.
Late in the second quarter, Drew lined up near our side of the field.
A girl two rows down stood and blew him a kiss.
Something inside me went feral.
I did not even know her name. She was probably nice. She was probably a perfectly decent person with friends and hobbies and maybe a family that loved her.
I still wanted to yank her ponytail so hard her ancestors felt it.
Which was insane.
Drew did not see her.
Or if he did, he ignored it.
He looked up at me instead.
Then winked.
I sat back so fast Lana cackled.
“You are so gone.”
“I am not.”
“You just looked at that girl like you were about to commit a felony with your hoop earrings.”
“She was distracting him.”
“From eighty yards away?”
