The Winner Takes All (Complete Collection)

41. Screw the Rules

41

SCREW THE RULES

Jason

Pure joy powers me as I rush into the building, race to the elevator, and count down the seconds until the doors open on the twelfth floor.

The show starts in one minute. If I can just slide in before Megan goes on-air, I can steal a second with Beck.

Heart beating wildly, words building up steam inside me, I run down the hall, checking the studio light. It’s green, so I yank open the door, ready to blurt out I love you too.

But the second I bound into the studio, Megan waves her arms, points frantically to a chair, and mouths, “Headphones.”

Slamming on the brakes of my love confession, I park my ass in the chair like a good boy. I tug on my headphones and then hazard a glance at Beck across from me.

I’m not sure what I expected to see—either a deer in the headlights or a statue. But he’s neither. He seems calm but eager. He searches my eyes like he’s looking for my answer to his letter.

Screw being a good boy. I’m tired of rules and pleasing others. Time to take a chance at being happy. I’m putting him and me first.

Before Megan can even do the intro, I hold up a finger. “Excuse me, Megan. I’m not ready to go on-air yet. I need a minute.”

She’s startled and hems and haws, “Oh. Well. Hmm.”

“I’d appreciate that too,” Beck says, quiet but strong.

Damn, that’s sexy, the way he jumped in too, and asked for what we need.

“Okay,” she says, resolute. She’s a savvy woman, and she can read the room. She pushes back from her chair.

But before she can stand, I rip off my headphones and jump to my feet. “I’m going to step into the green room.”

Beck’s up in no time, following me, and Megan stays in the studio.

In the green room, I shut the door. It’s him and me. No recording equipment. I won’t push him beyond what he can handle, but I can’t sit across from him through the whole damn show without telling him the truth of my greedy heart.

“I love you, and I want to be with you for real, no matter how hard it is,” I say, throat raw with emotion.

I’m terrified he won’t jump with me into this great unknown, but I’m hoping with all I’ve got that he’s willing to take the same scary chance.

Beck’s answer is immediate. “I want that too, Jason.”

Then, I take another risk. I step closer and slide my thumb along his jaw. “Not gonna kiss you now because I won’t be able to stop. But trust me—we’re going to figure this out. We’re going to make this work.”

“I know we will,” he says, then he surprises me by leaning in and pressing a confident kiss to my lips, murmuring, “Missed you.”

“Missed you so much,” I whisper, and my heart calms down. It’s found him again.

“But we need to go in there,” he says gently, being the responsible one.

“It’ll be the longest thirty minutes of my life,” I whine.

“You’ll survive. We’re worth it,” he says with a smile.

“We fucking are.”

I reach for his hand, squeeze it, then let go when I open the door. Then we walk back in and take our places.

“And welcome back to a special edition of Monday Morning Quarterback ,” Megan begins, and we’re on the air.

I’m jazzed as I talk up the playoffs, and Beck does the same. I do most of the chatting, but he’s always been fine with that. If I’m play-by-play, he’s color. When we’re done with the breakdown, Megan opens up the phone lines for listeners. “Our first listener is Grandma Sarina from Sausalito. Talk to us, Sarina.”

The gravelly-voiced lady asks about the importance of a home-field advantage, and Beck tackles that since his team has secured it. “It’s always good to play in front of your fans. They give us so much, and we want to win for them.”

Well-played.

“One more thing,” Sarina says. “Jason, you’ve been so serious the last few weeks on-air. It’s so heartwarming to hear how excited you are today for the playoffs.”

Maybe this is a chance to sow the seeds of whatever fan support we can get. I seize it. “Thanks, Sarina. I’m pretty stoked for the playoffs, of course. The reason I was so serious is that I went through a breakup recently, and I was hurt for a while.”

Megan’s eyes turn even more curious as she listens intently. Beck just grins, his smile saying he trusts me. He knows I won’t push his limits.

“Oh no,” Sarina says, sympathetic.

“It’s all good now, though,” I say, looking right at my guy. “We made up.”

Beck lowers his face, hiding that smile I adore.

“Oh, yay! I love happy endings,” Sarina chirps.

Megan’s about to weigh in, but Beck is faster. “Me too,” he says, meeting my eyes. “I’m happy for you and this lucky guy.”

My cheeks pinken. “Thanks. He’s kind of great, and for a while there, I thought it would never work out.”

“Sometimes you just have to work hard at football and love,” Beck says.

No kidding.

Megan cuts in. “And that’s one way to light up the phones, Jason. We’ve got about twenty callers waiting now if you two want to take this into overtime?”

“I will if Beck does,” I say.

“I’m game,” he says.

For the next several minutes, we field calls from listeners who want to talk about the playoffs or give me love advice.

“I’m just glad you didn’t let the breakup affect your gameplay,” a fanboy says. “This is your best season ever, Fourteen.”

“Thank you.”

“And seriously, maybe this guy is your lucky charm,” he adds.

I grin. “I’d like to think so.”

The next caller is a woman who sounds like a bruiser. “I can’t believe anyone dared to hurt you. I’d beat him up myself if I could.”

Beck laughs. “I don’t think there’s any need for that. It sounds like Jason’s guy figured out he doesn’t want to lose him.”

“Smart man,” the woman says, all tough and protective.

Finally, Megan wraps the show, then turns off the equipment. With glee in her eyes, she beckons for us to join her in the green room.

Once we’re there, she straightens her shoulders. “Call me crazy, but I’m getting a serious vibe that you”—she stops to look pointedly at Beck—“are Jason’s mystery guy.”

He shrugs wickedly, his form of a yes.

She flings her hand to her mouth, then drops it. “Listen, I know this won’t be easy, but fans have been going nuts for your rivalry. If we can take it to the next level on the show with your romance, I’m here for it. I’m behind you.”

I’m wise enough to know we’ll have haters, but I’m psyched to have a supporter already. “I’m pretty sure we’ll take you up on that,” I say.

Then Beck adds, “But we kind of need to go right now.”

Way to rev my engine, baby.

“Of course. Also, thank you for all you did this season.” Megan leaves the room, and we take off too, making a beeline for the stairwell. Once the door closes, I yank him against me. “Kiss me,” I tell him.

He drops his lips to mine and kisses me deeply and passionately.

And like he loves me, no matter the risk.

I wrap my arms around him and haul him close. I don’t care if anyone walks into the stairwell.

That’s how he kisses me too—like we’re free to make the choice to be together, even if it’s hard. Even if we get booed. Even if we get traded.

When we break the kiss, I’m amped up and lovestruck. “I want to be with you even if everyone hates me.”

“I don’t hate you. I love you,” he says.

I cup his cheek and kiss him once more. Then it’s time to deal with this choice we’ve made.