47 bennett got his girl
I know I'm screwed approximately thirty seconds into practice.
Not because Coach is already yelling.
Not because Scott almost nailed me in the head with a football during warmups.
Not even because it's freezing enough outside that I can't feel my fingers.
No.
I'm screwed because apparently I cannot stop smiling like a complete idiot.
"You look disgusting," Scott says immediately, jogging beside me toward drills.
I glance at him. "Good morning to you too."
"No, seriously." He squints at me suspiciously. "Why do you look like that?"
"Like what?"
"Happy."
I snort and grab my helmet off the bench. "You should try it sometime."
Scott stops walking entirely and then his eyes widen slowly. "Oh my God."
I immediately regret everything.
"Don't," I warn.
"Oh my God."
"Allen."
His jaw physically drops. "OH MY GOD."
Every head nearby turns instantly.
I close my eyes briefly. Fantastic.
Scott points at me like he just solved a murder case. "BENNETT GOT HIS GIRL."
The entire team completely loses their minds.
"No way."
"About damn time."
"Holy shit, Bennett."
"HE LIVES."
Somebody actually starts clapping.
I hate every single person here.
I'm laughing anyway.
"Shut the hell up," I say, shoving Scott backward when he nearly tackles me in excitement.
"I BELIEVED IN LOVE," he yells dramatically.
"You need psychological help."
"I'm serious!" He grabs my shoulders aggressively. "You were one bad practice away from writing poetry in the locker room."
"That literally never happened."
"You stared at a wall for twenty minutes last week."
"That was strategy."
"That was depression."
The guys around us start chirping nonstop immediately.
Most of the comments are deeply unhelpful.
A few are medically concerning.
One of the freshmen asks if this means I'm "finally emotionally moisturized."
I almost quit football on the spot.
The worst part is I don't even care.
Because every couple seconds my brain just replays last night again.
Everly walking across the room toward me.
Her kissing me before she lost her nerve.
I'm in love with you too.
Just remembering it makes something stupidly warm spread through my chest again.
Scott notices immediately. "Oh my God, he's doing the face again."
"What face?" I ask.
"That one." He points violently. "The in-love face."
"I don't have a face."
"You absolutely have a face."
Coach's whistle finally cuts through the chaos before Scott can get more annoying.
Barely.
Warmups start a few minutes later, and I'm stretching near the sideline when somebody steps beside me.
I look up automatically.
Logan.
Okay.
Still terrifying.
Good to know.
He casually pats my shoulder once. Which honestly somehow feels more threatening.
"You alive?" he asks.
"Currently."
"Nice."
There's a pause. Then Logan leans slightly closer,
"If you hurt my sister again, I'll knock your teeth out with your own helmet."
I go completely silent.
Not because he raises his voice.
Not because he sounds angry.
Actually the opposite.
He says it calmly enough that I immediately know he means every single word.
Logan watches my face for a second. Then-
he smiles slightly. Not friendly exactly, but not hostile either. "Welcome to the family."
I stare at him. "What the hell does that mean?"
"It means," Logan says, stepping backward, "don't make me regret defending you."
"Defending me?"
"You're welcome, by the way."
Before I can even process that, Scott jogs over at the worst possible moment.
"Why do you both look weird?" he asks immediately.
Neither of us answers.
Scott's eyes narrow. Then he looks at Logan, then me, then Logan again.
"Oh my God," he whispers.
"Allen," I warn.
Too late.
He doubles over laughing so hard he almost falls onto the turf. "Did Coleman number two just threaten your life?"
"Potentially."
Scott wipes tears from his eyes dramatically. "This is the greatest day of my life."
Logan shakes his head like we're both exhausting before jogging toward the defensive side of the field.
I watch him go for a second.
Still slightly stunned.
I glance toward Logan across the field, then back at Scott. "So... was he serious?"
Scott immediately loses the smile. "Deadly serious."
"Cool."
"I'm serious, Bennett."
"Yeah," I mutter. "I figured."
Scott claps my shoulder once.
"Honestly though? Him not hating you anymore?" He whistles quietly. "That's basically a marriage proposal."
"Please never say that sentence again."
Practice officially starts a minute later.
And for the first time in weeks-
I feel good again.
Not distracted.
Not miserable.
Not stuck inside my own head.
Just... lighter.
Coach notices halfway through drills when I complete a throw he's been yelling at me about for two weeks straight.
"There you go, Bennett," he barks.
Scott immediately yells from three stations over:
"HIS GIRLFRIEND FIXED HIM."
"ALLEN," Coach snaps.
"What? It's science."
The team starts laughing again.
I should probably be embarrassed.
Instead I just shake my head, grinning despite myself.
Because somewhere between Everly kissing me last night and Logan threatening to kill me this morning, something finally settled into place.
After practice ends, I'm peeling tape off my wrists while walking back toward the locker room when my phone buzzes in my pocket.
I already know who it is.
And the second I see Everly's name across my screen, I smile so automatically it's actually pathetic.
Scott notices from beside me immediately.
"There's the face again," he sighs.
I don't even bother denying it this time.