Blitz’d (Evergreen University #1)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

ZANDER

“Head in the game, Z,” my best friend Russ says, using his helmet to knock against mine.

I turn to him with a smile and a wink. “Always. We’re gonna fucking crush Meridian. Home-field advantage, baby.”

“You know it!” Russ claps hands with me again, his hazel eyes flashing and his curly hair flopping in his face. The freckles that cover his nose stand out in sharp relief against his light brown skin. “Make sure you rub it in that bitch’s face when you have more passing yards than him. I’m sick of his trash talk on social media.”

My smile drops as I think about the quarterback from Meridian University.

Kerian Slade.

We’ve both been starting quarterbacks since our sophomore year and the sports world hasn’t let us forget it. Every time one of us makes a highlight reel for a perfect spiral pass or avoiding a sack, it’s blasted for all to hear, along with comparisons.

And Kerian hasn’t tried to do anything to stop news analysts from comparing us. In fact, he makes it worse, always taking digs at me in his post-game interviews, saying how he’s better than his rival and tries to show it after every game.

Add to the fact that they’re a more prestigious university two cities over? Yeah, the rivalry is real.

I keep my growl to myself, though. No one needs to know how much Kerian gets under my skin. “This is our game. They’re in our house. I ain’t worried. ESPN will be showing my highlights tonight.”

Russ grins, knocking helmets with me again before he goes to where his defensive line is having a huddle.

“Zander,” our head coach, Trevor McMillan, says, walking over to me. “Your girl is outside and she won’t leave. She’s fucking up the mojo in here. Get rid of her before she jinxes this win!”

Coach McMillan is superstitious about football. More so than any person I’ve ever met. No interruptions or no technology before a game, gotta wear the same socks throughout the entire season until we lose, then repeat the cycle with a new pair. He’s the best coach on this side of the Mississippi, no doubt about it, but fuck, his rules are annoying.

“Got it, Coach,” I say, hustling to the door. I have to turn to the side to avoid other players since we’re all dressed in our pads, ready to hit the field.

Megan, my girlfriend, is standing across from the locker room entrance, clad in her cheerleader outfit. Fuck, she’s hot. Long, limber legs, thick thighs, and a pert ass. Her full blonde hair is up in some kind of curly ponytail all the cheerleaders have to wear, and her face is made up, her cheeks glittering under the shitty fluorescent lights.

It’s cliché for the head cheerleader and the quarterback to be a couple, but we fell for each other close to two years ago and we’re still going strong.

“Hey, babe,” I say, grinning as I walk over to her. I cup her ass and pull her into me, planting a greedy kiss on her lips that taste like strawberries. “You look good enough to eat.”

She rolls her eyes and pushes me away. “You ready for today?”

“Fuck yeah. I saw Slade earlier when his team pulled up. Bitch shot me a stupid fucking smug smile. I can’t wait to wipe it off. You know he had the nerve to…”

I dump on Megan about Kerian all the time, but he just gets under my skin with his bullshit. I’m a better quarterback and we both know it. He needs to get it through his head.

I mean, he’s good. That’s a given since he was accepted to Meridian, a top Division 1 school in Virginia. His arm is crazy, his ability to throw bullets almost mind-boggling. He’s also good in the pocket. That’s the only undeniable way he’s better than me. He’s more bulky than I am, and he uses his weight to shake off all kinds of sacks. While I’m sitting at an average of three sacks a game, I’m lucky if Kerian goes down even once. His feet are fast and so is his mind when he’s searching for a receiver.

But he’s still not a better quarterback than me.

Megan throws her hands up, stopping my ranting. “Okay, that’s it. Dammit, I’ve fucking had it, Zander. You’ve had a hard-on for Slade since your coach had you starting. I’m fucking done. I can’t hear another word about him.”

I clamp my mouth shut. Does it seem like I have a hard-on for Kerian? I mean, he pisses me off, but I don’t think I’ve been that bad.

She’s not done with her rant. “This? Me and you?” She waves her hand back and forth between us. “We’re done. We’re over. I was going to wait until after this game, because I know how Slade gets under your skin and McMillan’s stupid rules, but fuck that. I’ve been fucking Justin for months and your head is so far up Slade’s ass that you haven’t even noticed.”

“Justin?” It takes a second for my brain to click, then it does. “You mean Justin Echer, our fucking kicker?”

I’m not sure why I expected Megan to look sorry about dropping this bomb, but she looks like she couldn’t give a fuck less. “Yeah, Echer. And let me tell you, he’ll be the one eating me tonight. I would say good luck in this game, but I hope Slade wipes the fucking floor with you. Find another stupid bitch to vent to about him.” She storms away, her blonde ponytail swishing behind her.

Justin has been fucking my girl? For months? That motherfucker has been smiling in my face knowing he’s been inside Megan? That’s probably why he’s been grinning in my fucking face.

My breathing comes out choppy as I think back to the times I hung out with Justin while Megan was around. They always shared those stupid secret smiles, but I didn’t think anything of it. My mind was always on football and making sure I win as many games as possible before I enter the draft.

She started fucking Justin because I talked about Slade too much? Football is my life. My competition with him is the difference between me being the first pick in the draft or dropping to the second round.

And Justin is a fucking kicker. Why would she want that over a quarterback? He fucking sucks as a kicker anyway. He rarely gets us extra points and is only put in when our first-string kicker is taking a break.

“Z,” Russ says from behind me. “Time to go.” I turn around to him and his eyebrows scrunch. “The fuck? You good?”

I’m not sure of the expression on my face, but I smooth it immediately. He doesn’t need to know my bullshit. We gotta win this game. After we’re done, I’ll have fucking words with Justin.

I won’t try to fight him, as my career is more important than my pride or ego, but I’ll let him know that what he did was fucked up.

Shaking away the deep hurt of Megan’s revelation and the end of our relationship, I paste a smile on my face. “Yeah, I’m good. Let’s get it, baby. We got a game to win.”

* * *

Fucking turf being stuck in my helmet is not how I banked on entering the second half of the game. I got sacked for the fifth time.

My head just ain’t in it. Every time I look over to our sidelines, I see Megan, who used to only have eyes for me, staring at and joking with Justin. That motherfucker lives on the sidelines, so it makes sense they have time to talk.

When I look over to the Meridian Panthers’ side, I see Slade, his hands gripping the top of his jersey, a smug grin on his face every time we have a turn over or my fucking helmet hits the ground.

This fucking game isn’t going how it should.

Coach McMillan throws his playbook on the ground in anger, then waves me over. I fucking fumbled the ball when I was sacked, so the play is turned over to the Panthers. Kerian slides his helmet on, eyeing me with a wicked twinkle in his eyes before he gets his game face on.

When I get to the sideline, McMillan grabs hold of my helmet, pulling my face level to his so he can shout at me. “I don’t know what the fuck is going on, but you need to stow that shit. There is no fucking way I’m gonna lose this game. Got it?”

“Yes, Coach!” I shout back, my face burning in shame. “I’ll do better.”

“Fix your fucking shit. Next time one of your fucking girlfriends comes to my locker room, I’ll send their hot little ass away. Now get your head in the game and bring me a fucking W.”

“Yes, Coach!” I repeat.

Russ stands beside me, keeping up a running commentary of the plays like I can’t see what’s happening. His D line sat him out after he tweaked his ankle.

But I listen anyway. His analysis of the game empties my mind of the shit with Justin and Megan and their secret relationship.

Why didn’t she just tell me to stop talking about Slade? Why would she pretend she didn’t mind and fuck my teammate behind my back? Justin and I aren’t close, but he’s still my teammate. That’s breaking the fucking bro code or some shit.

Russ bumps me. “You’re up. Get this fucking TD so I can smash some fucking skulls, yeah?”

“Just for you,” I murmur with a half grin, sliding my helmet back on and running onto the field.

We line up, my O line spread out so they can cover me. I call the play, my eyes scanning the field to make sure I have room to run this route. I play it in my head quickly, then see movement from the left side of the Panthers’ D line. They’ve shifted. It was subtle, but I caught it, and none too soon. I’ve been sacked so many times this game, they probably thought I was easy pickings to do it again.

I didn’t become starting QB my sophomore year for nothing. When my head is in the game, I see everything.

Before the snap, I shout, “Audible, Green fourteen. Green fourteen.” My line shifts as well, turning inward so they can protect me from a blitz. “Hut, set hut!”

My center snaps the ball, and as soon as my hands close around it, I spin and take off, rushing for the first down. The defensive line for the Panthers isn’t expecting me to run, most of them covering my receivers and tight end. I duck under one D man, tuck the ball under my arm, and dig my feet into the turf. I could stop, I could slide after getting the first down, but there’s no one coming after me, so I keep going, running for a sixty-yard touchdown.

My teammates surround me, jumping on my back. We’re not supposed to, but we do an end-zone celebration, me and a few others posing as if the rest of the line is taking pictures of us.

Coach is beside himself when I get back to the sideline. “You just won us the game, boy!” he shouts, slapping the side of my helmet hard.

He’s not lying. We score one more touchdown, this one on fourth and twenty. There was no way I was going to let Justin on my field for a punt or a field goal. Let Megan see how fucking useless he is.

The Panthers talk their shit, but I don’t let it penetrate the thick shawl of impassiveness I cover myself with and block it all out. I grin when I see Kerian’s unmistakable expression of annoyance.

I’m floating on cloud nine as we shake hands with the Panthers after we win the game, until I glance over to our sidelines and see Justin and Megan standing there. Her arms are around his neck and he has both hands planted firmly on her ass. She meets my gaze and grins wickedly, standing on her tiptoes to flick her tongue over his ear. Her eyes flash with mischief, as if she knows her behavior is getting under my skin.

I shake hands with anger clawing up my spine as I watch them, Megan’s eyes not leaving mine as she rubs herself all over Justin like a dog in heat. His eyes flick over to mine as well and he upnods me just before stuffing his tongue in her mouth for a sloppy kiss.

No, fuck no. She won’t fucking win. They won’t fucking win.

But what can I do? I draw a blank until I get to the end of the line and look at Kerian’s deep blue eyes. His signature smug grin is pasted on his face, even though we just beat their asses 21–10.

Megan thinks I have a hard-on for him? She thinks I’m obsessed with Slade so she fucks my teammate?

When he steps up to me, he opens his mouth, probably to spew some bullshit, but I grab the front of his jersey and slam my mouth down on his instead. My other hand snakes around his back and I hold on to his jersey as I nip at his bottom lip before diving in briefly with my tongue.

Holy shit… I’m hard. The fuck? Why am I hard? My cup and jockstrap are uncomfortably tight as I feel his soft lips on mine.

Do I like dudes? Or is it the adrenaline of the game? Yeah, that’s it. It’s the adrenaline. There’s no way I like dudes, and if I did, there would be no fucking way it would be Kerian fucking Slade.

I pull away, blinking to bring him back into focus. Something… strange happened when I kissed him. Well, besides my dick getting hard. It’s like all thoughts left my head and only Kerian surrounded me. He was all I saw, smelled, and felt.

That’s fucking bananas.

I drop my hand from his jersey and try to step back, but it’s his turn to hold on to me. “You can do better than that,” he says just before crushing our lips back together, tunneling his tongue inside and fucking owning me.

His hand snakes possessively around my waist as he plunders my mouth, using his free hand to move my head just how he wants me. I have no other choice but to follow. My head is empty of all thoughts besides what he’s doing to me and how my cock is straining against my cup.

All too soon, he lets me go, that smug grin on his face. “That’ll be something for the papers.” He looks me up and down before walking backward. “I’ll see you soon, Dimples.”

I upnod him, because what else can I do?

Cameras flash in my eyes and microphones are stuck in my face, but I ignore them and stumble over to our sidelines. Russ’s eyebrows are at his hairline as he grips the top of his jersey. He opens his mouth, but I wave him away. “Not now.”

“Megan—”

“Not. Now,” I say.

I spot Megan and Justin in the same spot they were in before, both looking at me open-mouthed.

Yeah, I won. But at what cost?