Chapter 18
“Wait, which one is it?” I ask Kaia as I dig in the trunk of her Impala. She brought a duffel bag of face paint and neon body spray after swiping the keys to the field panel off the coach's desk.
“Yeah, that one, it’s like a purple color,” she says, tying her cleat. Cosy yawns beside me, and Sunday shoves the bottle of cinnamon whiskey toward her.
“Wake up,” she demands, and Cosy takes a swig.
“I’m only here because someone promised me I could assault Loveday,” she says with heavy eyes.
“Not half asleep, you can’t,” Sunday laughs. “Another,” she says, pushing on the base of the bottle to tip it back into Cosy’s throat.
“Go hand these out,” Kaia says, shoving a handful of face paint at Sunday. “Reaper, with me. Let’s go do some illegal shit.”
“My favorite,” I giggle and follow her closely as we traipse across the parking lot to the utility shed.
“Do you think they’ll be pissed at us?” I ask as she pops the lock quietly.
We slip inside, and I fish my phone out to help her see as she finds her way over the box that’s labeled ‘lights’.
She unlocks it, flips on Pitch A’s lights, and before I can ask if it worked, the Hillcats erupt in cheers.
Outside, everyone's war paint glows under the hazy black lights for the midnight foam run, and suddenly, the night gets a lot more fun.
I pull my hair back into two even buns at the base of my neck and check to make sure that I have my mouth guard in my pocket before we take the field.
Because the jerseys we all wear are similar, most of the Hillcats are ready to play in their sports bras and tank tops.
It gives us the perfect opportunity to add more color to our arms and chests, and makes us glow like trouble.
In the black light, it’s hard to even tell that the Hogs showed up, but as we get closer, we find them standing around talking in a huddle, almost imperceptible in the darkness. Boone turns, his expression souring—but Kaia silences him before he can open his mouth.
“Here,” she says, tossing a bag to him. His face lights up when he opens it, and he pulls out their own stock of face paint. He gives her a lopsided smile and starts handing it out, because beneath all the bickering, they’re always on the same side.
“It’s not going to look as cool as yours,” he frowns, waving his giant hand at her, “I need your delicate hands, Killer.”
“Oh, sure, now you’re all sweet talk.” Kaia’s tone changes, and she takes the pastels from him.
Most of the guys are helping each other, but Brighton clears his throat from beside me and hands me a package. “You’re an art teacher, aren’t you?” he says gruffly, and I’m surprised he showed up at all. He didn’t really seem like the type to break his routine.
“You want me to…?” I take it from him with a smile, and he turns in my direction.
It’s an odd thing to be taller than most of the men around you, all the time.
It usually means no heels, no platforms, no fun—lots of self-confidence issues.
Watching Brighton Black sink onto his heels, bend his knees, and fold his arms to come eye level with me brings a burst of girlish euphoria blooming in my chest.
Oh. He stares at me, the black lights making his stormy eyes even sharper, and I try to remember what he wants.
Breathe, you stupid slut. You are a strong, independent woman; he is just a man.
“Are you going to—” He starts, and I startle free of my thoughts.
“Hold still,” I say, steadying his chin as I drag bright purple paint across his taut cheekbone, right over the faint scar there. “What number are you?”
“You don’t know my number?” he says, deadpan.
“I— No,” I confess.
“One.” He says, lips still pressed in a straight line, jaw still impossibly tight.
“Duh,” I curse myself for not being aware. Thing One. It’s literally written on everything, Rhea. On his other cheek, I draw the one and leave it at that.
“Thanks,” he says, waiting until my fingers leave his chin before he snatches the paint and tosses it to Boone. “Let’s get this over with. I’m exhausted.”
“Wait, wait—” Kaia holds up her hands and makes sure that all eyes are on her before she continues to speak. “Stakes.”
“Yeah, you lose, and Boone gets the title of the fastest,” Brighton says.
“Don’t be boring,” Sunday giggles as she helps Judd paint his number on his bicep in neon green.
“I want something important,” Kaia says, like she already has something in mind, and Brighton groans with impatience. “I want the Boone Burger.”
“You order that every game night, why is that important?” Judd asks with maximum confusion.
“No, I want it. If we win tonight, the Boone Burger becomes the Hillcat Burger.” She stares at Brighton as Boone’s face scrunches up in annoyance.
“Deal,” Boone says, already grinning.
“You idiot,” Brighton groans at his brother’s undying confidence.
“They aren’t going to win.” Boone turns to him, and I can feel the heat coming off his skin from beside me. It’s so hot I back away and fall in line with Cosy as the Hog’s huddle to discuss their strategy.
We create our own and listen as Cosy gives us a game plan.
“We won’t beat them in size,” she notes, and Kaia rolls her eyes.
“Not even Reaper can take on the twins. It’s just logic; we have to beat them in speed.
Do not get caught by either of them,” she says, and Sunday scoffs.
“They’re stronger than you, even if your ego doesn’t believe it.
The way we win this is by using our brains and running our rodent plays. ”
The rodent plays are simply that, quick, sneaky plays that focus on not getting caught. We all nod, understanding her instruction, and put our hands into the middle of the huddle with one loud cheer.
“Hold on,” Brighton puts his hand up. “Who’s refereeing this crap? Because you’re a cheater, Kaia Keegan.” He points directly at her, and she blows him a kiss.
“That would be my job,” a voice comes from behind Kaia. “Sorry, I’m late.” He slides into the line, giving her a little fist bump, and salutes Brighton from beside her. “Hey, Brighton.”
“Fuck,” he swears.
Cael Cody, former shortstop of the Harbor Hornets baseball team stands there in all his blond buzz cut glory with a wicked smile on his face, in a pair of gym shorts and a white T-shirt that glows under the black lights. Brighton’s jaw tenses uncomfortably.
Kaia and Cael have been causing trouble for months since meeting through Addy’s boyfriend Jensen. I shouldn’t even be surprised she brought him tonight, but it’s like she knows something the rest of us don’t.
“Does he even know anything about rugby, Kaia?” Boone grumbles.
“I gave him a crash course,” she says sweetly, her eyes lighting up when Cael smirks at her, and I don’t blame her. I’d let that blond menace ruin my life. “Don’t be mean to this angel; he came here as a favor,” Kaia teases, and Cosy snorts.
“Yeah, don’t be mean to me. I’m here to have fun.” Cael’s smile grows, but his eyes are daggers when they land on Brighton. I look between the two of them, and it seems Cael is getting more enjoyment out of it than Brighton.
“Whatever.” He rolls his shoulders out and turns to whisper something in Boone’s ear, who only nods slowly before throwing the ball toward Kaia.
“You kick,” he says, and the teams fall into line as Cael starts the timer on his watch.
“Seven minutes,” he says, standing between the lines with a whistle between his fingers. “Play dirty,” he smiles, looking at us.
Before anyone can argue with his logic, he blows the whistle.
It’s immediately clear the Hogs aren’t taking this lightly when Judd pockets the ball, lands, and plants his whole hardened body into the turf, leaving poor Margie—totally unprepared for full contact—hits him like a bug on a windshield.
She handles it with grace, wrapping around his core and digging her heels in as hard as she can to slow him down.
He flips the ball out, and it finds Boone without contest, but Kaia is quick and slips away from the pack to lunge at him.
He fights her off, but it’s not enough; he fumbles the ball in his attempts to get her off him, and they both hit the ground hard.
Sunday finds the loose ball, threading through two of the Hogs to find the open lane.
Kaia springs up and stomps a foot beside his head.
He laughs loudly as mud sprays across his face and watches as she takes off to catch Sunday, who’s speeding toward the try lines without pause.
Raul lunges for Sunday, catching her by the waist, but she pops the ball out, and it finds Margie, who throws herself over the line to score.
Raul rolls over in the dirt, and one of the other players hauls him up as Sunday kicks the ball for a point.
She turns with a malicious smile on her cute little face as it soars through the posts.
She and Kaia start to dance without music, shimmying around each other in a circle while we move back to our lines.
“Oh man, think of how many Hillcat burgers the Hollow is going to sell,” she hums as Sunday falls into place and taps the ball to her foot, kicking it out to the left and right into Judd’s arms.
Cosy is quick, though, and gives him a taste of his own medicine with a hard block that knocks him back a step and scares him bad enough that he tosses the ball out to Laurie, their smallest player and fastest.
Kaia sees it too, and before Laurie can create space, she slams into him, wrapping her arms around his hips and walking him backward until he trips over his own two feet and collides with the dirt.
The ball pops free, and Cosy gets her hands on it before Tolia.
She fumbles it for a moment but tosses it wide to a waiting Sunday.
I spot Brighton and Judd in my peripheral, and click my teeth before pushing the pace to get in front of them. If anyone is going to block them, it’s my body, but Judd is fast, and Brighton is falling in line with every strong step he takes.
Fuck.
The black light shines over every sharp line that makes up Brighton’s face, the way his jersey sinks into his tense muscles, and how his shorts ride up on his powerful thighs.
I nearly trip over my own legs, but catch myself just in time to slam into him and derail his path to Sunday.
We collide hard, roll through the turf, and skid to a rough stop as Boone hurdles our tangled bodies and makes for his little sister.
Brighton freezes, his entire body flexing beneath me, and I’m suddenly too aware of his skin against mine.
Too warm, too close. Get it the fuck together, Rhea, we aren’t making out with Sunday’s brother… He licks his bottom lip. Making a mental note to Google how to become Brighton Black’s tongue later.
“That was dirty,” I hear him say but my eyes are still locked on his lips.
“Rhea,” he snaps and starts to move. I come to my senses and kick free of him roughly, now covered in the paint from my skin, and scramble to my feet after Boone.
“You gonna call that penalty, Cody?” Brighton barks as we run, and Cael shrugs.
“I saw you trip over your own two feet! You should tie your shoes better,” he clips and keeps moving.
Brighton has at least three inches on me in his step as he rushes past me to support his team.
Cosy jogs beside me, doing a once-over before continuing past to catch up with the rest of the players.
Sunday wastes no time bringing us up by another six points, and Boone curses loudly as Kaia turns to him and gives him a wink.
“Say it,” she snaps at him, her smile bright.
“Never,” Boone palms the ball off the ground as Cael blows the minute warning whistle and causes panic. He moves quickly, and the ball is in play even quicker. We barely have time to position, and the ball bounces hard off the ground ten yards behind Josie before flicking out of bounds.
“You fucking—” Cosy spits, knowing precisely the play the Hogs are trying to run. Kaia quickly explains to Cael what’s happening. Josie stands out of bounds next to Raul, and Cael positions himself between them, blowing the whistle before any of us are even ready for it.
Brighton doesn’t flinch. He hauls his brother up over his head while Kaia and I scramble into position, but Boone’s arms are longer, and he pulls the ball toward him with one hand and slaps Kaia’s with the other.
“You can’t win this, Killer.” Boone teases her, and takes off as Kaia hits the ground with a feral look on her face.