Chapter 81 #2
Maddox kicks the conversion to extend our lead further, but I’m ready to drive the knife home. I don’t want to just simply win, I want to fucking decimate this team and leave them licking their wounds after being pulled apart.
I give Murphy the look he knows well by now. The one that means we’re going to do whatever it takes on this next play.
He gives me a sharp nod and hunches down, ready to sprint the moment that ball flies into the night sky for the kickoff on halfway.
The French number ten ends up with the ball, then passes it to the asshole who took Connor out. Meanwhile, I’m locked on his every move. I brace myself for impact, flattening him in the hardest tackle of the night.
I hear a crunch and a breathless wheeze as the air is knocked from his lungs, the ball spills forward onto the dewy grass, followed immediately by repeated short blasts of the referee’s whistle.
My pulse pounds so hard in my ears that as I stand over the motherfucker, staring him down, I barely register the slaps on the back and the hype of my teammates who crowd around me.
The ball is ours to regain possession, and the sleazy asshole is still lying flat on his back, trying to catch his breath.
“No way, ref. You can’t be serious?” Murphy’s voice seems far away.
The rest of my team starts protesting, blowing up, and it takes me a moment to register what is happening.
All of a sudden, a red card is shoved in my face.
“Shoulder charge, foul play.” The referee ignores the cool-headed approach of Cap, who tries to reason with him.
“No arms in the tackle.” The referee motions with his arms, flourishes the card in the direction of the sideline, and turns away from the stunned look on my team’s faces.
Fuck.
I yank my mouthguard out.
“That’s complete fucking bullshit,” Gus mutters under his breath, slapping me on the shoulder. “I’ve never seen a more legal tackle. You just pancaked the prick and got him good.”
I’m given more pats on the back, and someone ruffles my hair as I jog to the sideline.
That’s my night done. Over. Finished. It’s so close to full time now that even a yellow card, a ten-minute sin binning, would result in being ejected from the remainder of the game.
A goddamn red card means a call-up to the disciplinary board, too.
It could put the rest of my season and the playoffs in jeopardy if they decide to hand out a further fine or punishment.
I don’t look at the big screen or the stands as I reach the sideline. I just keep my head down and make my way up the tunnel.
That was for Connor, and I’d do it again if it meant defending him out there.
Thankfully, the trainers and coaching staff leave me alone to cool off as I reach the locker room. It’s echoingly empty, without the usual crush of bodies in here. Just me and my racing thoughts and thumping pulse.
“Hey… oh my god. Are you okay?” Wren’s soft voice makes my head snap up. She creeps through the doorway.
“Peaches.” I’m open-mouthed, as she races for me and throws her arms around me.
“Fuck. What are you doing here?” While I want nothing more than to hug her tight, I know I’m covered in sweat, grass, and dirt…
not to mention dried blood. She doesn’t need to go getting covered in the stench of me, and certainly doesn’t need to get caught in here, all because of my decision on the field.
“The team is still gonna win. You don’t have to worry about that… but what the hell is going on? That’s not like you.” Her voice is muffled against my chest.
I pull back and cup her jaw. My eyes rapidly search hers, trying to figure out what to say, how to explain it. How the hell do I put into words this tightness inside my chest?
All I can do is drop my forehead to press against hers.
“I couldn’t take it.” I keep my voice hushed.
I have no idea how long it will be before someone comes in here after me, and I need Wren to get out of here.
“Connor getting hurt like that drove me out of my mind. I’ve always had his back, but this is different now.
What if… what if something happens to both of you? ” My eyes squeeze shut.
She holds onto my forearms, clinging to me while I breathe heavily. Her peach scent is the only calm spot in my hazy vision, and I try to stay there with her. I try to inhale her and ground myself to the best of my ability.
“You can’t be here, baby.” I swallow.
“I know… I just needed to see you. To feel you,” she whispers, but doesn’t move.
Before we can pull apart, I hear the distant cheers of the stadium. The full-time siren is muted, but distinct.
“You gotta go.” My throat tightens as I rasp out the words I really wish I didn’t have to say.
She nods, and it happens all too fast. The door crashes open, while Wren is still in my arms, and Connor storms in. He somehow manages to get here within a millisecond of the match finishing and hauls me deeper into the locker room by the front of my shirt.
“What the—” I barely get the words out, and Wren’s tiny fingers are still wrapped around my wrist, when my back collides with the wall.
Connor’s lips are on mine. Our kiss is frantic, wild, and filled with an unspoken need to speak to each other in the only way we know how at this moment.
It’s like he can feel every bit of agony I’ve gone through watching him be repeatedly hurt, and can understand what I’m utterly incapable of putting into words.
His tongue thrusts against mine with a groan. It’s sloppy, but the exact thing I needed to feel him. How did he know? Because this kiss finally eases the tight grip crushing my ribs.
With a final grunt into my mouth, his hands are in my shirt, and I realize mine have hooked the waistband of his shorts to pull his body flush against mine. We stand there, with thundering hearts, groins pressed together, and end up panting into each other’s mouths.
“You’re a fucking idiot.” Connor pinches my bottom lip between his teeth and tugs roughly, before sucking on the sting to ease it for me. “A fucking idiot… and I love you. I’m so fucking in love with you, and I nearly lost it seeing that happen to you out there.”
I swallow the rock sitting in the back of my throat, lick my lips, and try to catch my breath. My head is goddamn spinning, swirling. An overwhelm like I’ve never known takes over.
“I love you,” I admit with relief flooding through my veins. “You’re a fucking idiot too… but I love you.”
“Holy shit.” Connor lets out a heavy exhale. “Bambi… I can’t believe you’re here… I love that you’re here… but…”
Wren’s glassy-eyed expression pinballs between the two of us. But a commotion outside makes her jump. Connor is quick to act, to shield her between the two of us, even though that’s quite possibly the worst idea he’s ever had.
“I have to get out of here,” she squeaks, with eyes widening as it dawns that we’ve got barely seconds until this locker room fills with bodies—including her brother.
Theo appears in the doorway, wearing an expression I can’t decipher. Although now isn’t the time to try to make sense of any of this.
“Come on, sweetheart. I can help you leave before anyone sees,” he beckons her, and before I can kiss her or hug her, it only takes the blink of an eye for our girl to vanish as if she was never here.
Leaving Connor and me looking at each other, completely shell-shocked, but equally unable to talk about anything because at that minute, our team starts to arrive.