Chapter 12 Ash
Practice this morning had been hard. It was unlike Coach to push us so hard on game day, but we were all feeling the pressure of the upcoming game.
As I sat in the locker room, listening to my teammates talk in the background, the music was playing, and the twins were huddled together talking routes and plays.
I should have been with them, but my attention was on the phone in my bag.
I’d been almost asleep last night when I got the first text.
I’d almost ignored it — a part of me still wished that I had.
Glancing over at Jett and Gray, I saw Gray now had a pad of paper. They would be immersed in that for a good few minutes — they wouldn’t be looking for me yet.
Sliding my hand into my bag, I tucked my phone into my hand and headed to the bathroom. Locking myself inside a stall, I opened the message thread.
Red: I’m in your bed
Me: Why?
Red: Sleepover . . .
Me: And you chose my bed?
Red: Obviously
That surprised me; why was it obvious? I thought it would have been obvious for her to choose to sleep with Ava or something.
I knew she would be there. They had decided all the girls needed to be together, and that was fine .
. . but in my bed? I immediately thought about how messy my room was and then realized it was too late; she was already there.
Also, I wasn’t trying to impress her. Was I?
I was no stranger to flirting, but was she flirting?
Which went against everything we had discussed, or was she just making conversation?
Red had never gone out of her way to make conversation with me before this week.
She was subtle in her signals to let me know she was available for a hookup.
She wasn’t an in-your-face kind of girl.
As I tried to consider her angle, she messaged again.
Red: Remember the last time I was in your bed?
Me: Hard to forget, I’m now living with you because of that
Red: You were definitely hard . . .
Sitting up in bed, I read the message thread again. She was definitely flirting. This wasn’t normal behavior for her, and then I thought about it: she was with Ava and Quinn.
Me: You’re drunk?
Red: Yup
Me: Don’t throw up in my bed
Red: Please . . . as if
Red: R u naked?
Grinning, I looked down at my shorts and replied.
Me: Maybe. You?
Red: No. I’m wearing your football shirt
She was wearing my shirt? I felt something deep within me stir. I hadn’t felt it before, but something inside was awake and paying attention. Did I like the sound of that? Her in my shirt? Shaking my head, I tried to shrug it off. It was late after all.
Red: I’m naked underneath
A low groan escaped me, and I was glad I was in a single room.
Red: Wish you were here?
Yes.
Me: I’m not sure . . . what would we be doing?
Red: You could do anything you want. A.N.Y.T.H.I.N.G
My dick was getting excited at the possibilities.
Me: Yeah? Tell me more
Red: My body would be yours, for your mouth, your hands, your tongue, that talented talented tongue, I’m too hot
And she was fucking hot, and I was as hard as a rock.
Red: I took your shirt off
I closed my eyes as I lay back down in the bed. She was killing me with this; my dick was like a steel rod.
Me: Don’t stop
Red: You want more?
Me: Don’t fucking tease me Red, tell me how I’d fuck you if I was there
Red: Touch yourself
Me: Okay
Red: Are you wearing shorts?
Me: Yes
Red: Take them off 87 — touch yourself for me
I kicked my shorts to the bottom of the bed and fisted my dick.
Me: Keep going
Red: You’ve got me all hot, you licked me until I screamed for you and begged you to stop
Me: You taste so good
Red: You going to take control?
Me: Rub your clit
Red: Ash . . .
Me: Do it. Now.
Red: Okay
Me: Fuck, I’m so fucking hard for you Red
Me: Are you wet?
Red: Yes
My eyes had closed as I pumped my dick, thinking of her. The way she tasted, the little sighing noise she made right before she came, the way her whole body arched into her orgasm. My hand was a blur under the sheet.
Red: I’m so close
Me: Keep rubbing that clit. I’m going to come so fucking hard for you
Red: Do it, spill it as you think of me
Thank fuck I was alone, my groan was loud as I came all over my hand and my stomach.
Fuck, that was hot.
Me: Did you come?
Red: Yeah . . .
Red: I’m licking my fingers clean
Jay-sus. I huffed out loud at the image.
Fuck me, I needed to fuck her. That was sexy as hell.
My head fell back onto the pillows as I dropped the phone, done with it for now, wondering how drunk she was.
Either way, she was going to freak out in the morning.
Catching my breath, I got out of bed to clean myself.
I hesitated after I walked away from the bed, and turning back, I reached for the phone.
Me: Don’t regret this when you’re sober
Red: I won’t
“Ash!” Gray called out, causing me to jump like a guilty kid that’s just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Are you shitting your pants?”
“No!” I called back as I willed my dick to calm down.
“Well, if you’re not, get out here, we need you.”
“’Kay.” I waited until I heard him leave the bathroom, and I looked down at my pants and my problem.
I could not take care of this, fucking Red and her fucking messages.
Taking a deep breath, I willed myself not to think of anything and remind myself where I was.
Jesus, I was in a locker room bathroom stall before one of the biggest games of the season, and my head wasn’t on the game.
Irritation at myself shifted my focus from my dick and the redhead responsible, and as I flushed the toilet, I regained my focus on the important things.
Like football.
Not some hot piece of ass who sexted when she was hammered.
* * *
It was the third quarter, and we were tied ten-ten.
Jett was ready to implode, I could tell, but I didn’t have it in me to keep him cool.
Gray was in his jersey and chinos, talking in his brother’s ear.
He would have been doing that had he been playing.
They were always seated together, while I usually sat with the offensive line.
At the moment, I was pacing back and forth, watching Dustin, the wide receiver for ’Bama, making a run right past our defensive lineman.
“Fucking hell, Granger, fucking take him out!” I screamed from the sidelines.
“Language, Santo!” Coach muttered as he came and stood beside me. “That’s a damn good receiver.”
“He can be caught,” I retorted angrily. “We just need to read the offense better.”
Coach grunted as he watched them get ready for third down. “Woods better move his ass,” Coach told me.
“He’s got it covered,” I said as I watched ninety-nine move slightly just as the ball was snapped.
Jamie was off like a rocket and almost ran through the offensive linemen, and I saw Spence, the ’Bama quarterback, panic and run.
Jamie wasn’t to be put off, and I was cheering him on as he made the sack and took Dante Spence down.
“Yes!” I was bouncing. Coach was still as he stood beside me. “No?” I asked Coach with a grin.
“Let’s cheer when he does it again,” he said grimly. “Be ready to run,” he said as he looked at me.
“No more protecting the pocket?” I asked with my hand over my mouth.
“Use the legs,” he told me, and walked down to the assistant coaches.
“You moving?” Gray asked beside me.
“Gonna try,” I told him as we both watched Spence move his offense down the field.
“You got this,” Gray said as we stood together.
As ’Bama came off and I picked up my helmet to go play, I met Gray’s hard look.
“I got it,” I told him with a wink. The very first snap, I was already running, my legs eating up the yards.
Turning my head, I saw the ball come arcing toward me, and I could see the safety running toward me.
I needed to catch this ball and not let go.
I caught it, and I felt him breathing on me as I put in an extra burst of speed. I couldn’t hear, I couldn’t see anything except the end zone. I had no idea how close they were, and I needed to move us as close to the end zone if I didn’t make it myself.
My body jerked to the side as I felt the hit. I was already moving through the air, the ball tucked tight into my body. Stretching out, I extended my arm as I reached for the line.
Come on, come on, come on.
Yes!
Touchdown.
The pile of bodies on top of me brought me back into the stadium as I took the hard knocks. I could hear the cheering, the screaming, and the hoots from my teammates. When I was finally on my feet, Jett was in front of me, and we knocked heads together.
“We fucking got this,” he screamed at me, and I high-fived him as we both ran to the sidelines together, where Gray was waiting, his grin wide as he fist-bumped me.
“Good job, Santo.” Coach patted me on the back as I ran to the bench, eager for a drink.
We just needed to keep the lead, and we were playing in the conference championships for sure. We ended the third quarter in the lead. Halfway through the fourth quarter, we were tied again.
“Is Woods on his fucking period?” Ben spat out as we watched Dustin race down the field again.
“Dust is fast,” Jett grunted as we watched him finally get taken down. “Was always like a greyhound,” he muttered as we exchanged a look.
“He should have been a Saint,” I grumbled as I watched our high school wide receiver jump to his feet. I turned to our team’s wide receivers. “See that, that’s called the running game,” I snapped.
“Fuck you, Santo,” someone growled behind me. “You’re the only fucking one our QB’s passing to.”
Jett and I both whipped around at the same time. “Because he’s the only one catching the ball,” Jett snarled. “You’ve fucking dropped it three times.”
“Now let’s focus on the game still to be played, not the routes we’ve played already,” Gray said, cutting off any protests. “We’ve got time, we can do this. For now, let’s support our defense.”
Jett and I exchanged a look as we turned to see Dustin hit the end zone.
“Fuck!” I groaned as I turned to get my helmet. “Keep them coming, cousin,” I said to Jett as we made our way onto the field.
“I’ll throw—”
“I’ll catch,” I finished.
We could do this. We could. I knew it. Cranking my neck, I got ready to move as I prepped myself to run. I could catch anything he threw.
I just needed to be free to find space.
They blocked my run at every turn. Jett tried to change to the running game, but we had no Gray ready to pass the ball to.
The wide receivers were shut down almost as much as I was, and we were seven points behind.
Glancing at the clock, I saw we had only one minute thirty left.
I just needed to hit one touchdown, and we were in overtime.
’Bama’s forty-nine was looking at me. I could feel his eyes. He’d shut me down on the last three plays. I needed to cut loose. I heard Jett shout the play, and I moved my foot slightly to the left. Forty-nine was too busy eye fucking me to notice.
I heard the snap, and I took off like I was at the races.
My legs pumped hard as I ran, swerving the oncoming body that was looking to take me down.
My head dipped a little as I willed more speed into my feet.
With practiced movement, I turned my head and stretched up and caught that cowhide as I ran.
I was at the thirty, and a field goal wasn’t enough; it was end zone or go home.
Run kept chanting through my head. Turning my head, I saw the corner coming for me, and I knew he was going to catch me. Shit. I needed to change direction; only Gray could do this well. Losing speed, I swerved and ducked a body as it came flying toward me.
Run.
Keep running.
You have this.
The hit took me from behind. I was going down; no matter how strong my will was, I wasn’t staying upright. I extended my arm, and the hand clutching the ball loosened.
No. Fuck no.
I hadn’t hit the ground yet, and I saw it in slow motion. The ball came loose, and the safety for ’Bama caught it.
And no one caught him.
As I landed hard on the turf, I heard the screams from the home crowd, and my eyes closed in despair. The fuckers had the ball, and there was no time left.
Fuck.