Chapter 24
brEAKING: FOOTBALL PROVES IT’S NOT “JUST A GAME” One player learns who’s really in his corner
Tanner
I squeeze Alaia’s hand. “Thanks for coming today.”
She smiles at me and my heart jumps. I want to see her smile up at me forever. Not just this summer. Not just until the new year. I need to tell her how I feel, but every time an opportunity arises, I freeze.
How will she react to my declarations? Will she laugh at me? Will she sigh in derision?
I need to stop being a wimp. Alaia isn’t my father or mother who laughed at me when I told them I wanted to play on the high school football team. Or my siblings who rolled their eyes when I got a football scholarship to college.
“No problem. I have a ton of emails to check, and I want to get this month’s Siren’s Spill column written.”
I lift an eyebrow. “You seriously think you can write an article while I’m out there playing football?”
Her nose wrinkles. “Why? Do you think the football game will distract me?”
I tickle her ribs. “I’ll show you distraction.”
She giggles before running away from me. Cute. Does she think I can’t catch her? I’m one of the fastest wide receivers in the NFL.
She glances over her shoulder at me. Her smile lights up her face. Her blue eyes twinkle. And her long, brown hair flies behind her. She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. She doesn’t believe me when I tell her she’s gorgeous but it’s the truth.
I chase after her – I will always chase after Alaia – and catch her near the entrance to the locker room. I cage her against the wall.
“Caught you.”
She bites her bottom lip. “You did. Now, what are you going to do with me?”
“Hmm… I have a few ideas.”
Starting with removing her lip from her teeth. Her lips are mine and mine alone to bite. I glide my tongue over her bottom lip to soothe it before melding my mouth to hers. She sighs and I plunge my tongue into her mouth.
Damn. Her taste. It gets more addictive every time we kiss. And I don’t care. I’ll happily remain addicted to her lips, her body, her taste for the rest of my life.
I thread a hand through her hair and tug her head to the side so I can dive in even deeper.
She wraps her arms around my shoulders and pulls me near. Until my chest hits hers. I can feel her nipples harden against my chest.
I press my hard length into her stomach and she moans. I love the little moans and sounds she makes when I’m inside her.
I love her. Plain and simple. I need to tell her. I need her to know how I feel.
Maybe if she knows, she’ll agree to continue the relationship. A real relationship. Not this fake one. That doesn’t feel very fake anymore.
A whistle blows and I tear my lips from Alaia’s. I glare at Coach Knox.
“Stop screwing around. Practice begins in fifteen minutes, and you aren’t changed.”
Alaia’s face darkens. “Sorry. I’ll um…”
She tries to pull away from me, but I shackle her wrist to stop her. “I’ll walk you to the bleachers.”
“I’m perfectly capable of walking to the bleachers by myself.”
“Maybe I want to be a gentleman.”
I lead her past the locker room toward the stadium. Knox sighs as we pass him. “Another one hit by the love bug.”
Fuck. Did Alaia hear him? I need to tell her how I feel. But not this way. I glance at Alaia. She’s already pulling her phone out of her pocket and tapping on it. She didn’t hear anything.
I show her to a seat in the bleachers, kiss her cheek, and hurry back to the locker room. I don’t want to be late for practice. Football is serious business.
I tug my jersey over my head and jog onto the field as the whistle blows.
Heat slams into me like a wall. It’s not yet noon, and the sun is already brutal, baking the turf until it radiates through my cleats. Sweat trickles down my spine, and we haven’t even started drills yet. Today is going to be brutal.
Maybe not the best day to ask Alaia to come to practice. I glance up at her in the bleachers. I expect her to be writing but she’s not. She’s staring at the field with a frown on her face. When I wave, she brightens and feigns doing a cheer with pompoms.
I chuckle at her goofiness. How could this woman ever think she’s boring?
“Line up!” Coach Knox barks.
I drop into position, roll my shoulders, and shake out my arms. My muscles are already tight from yesterday’s session. Good. Sore muscles mean I’m working hard and making progress.
The whistle shrieks, and I explode off the line. Five yards. Ten. Cut left. Plant. Pivot. The ball snaps into my hands and I tuck it tight against my ribs before jogging it out.
“Faster, Long!” Coach roars.
I don’t respond. I just reset.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Each route feels heavier than the last. My legs burn. My lungs tighten. Sweat pours into my eyes, blurring my vision.
“Hydrate!” someone shouts from the sideline.
I don’t look. I don’t break focus.
Snap.
Run.
Cut.
Catch.
Reset.
The world narrows to the field. To the rhythm. To the grind.
This is what my family will never understand. This isn’t a game. This is work. This is pain. This is everything.
“Again!”
I push off the line and my foot slips half an inch on the turf. Not enough to fall – but enough to throw me off balance.
“Focus!” Nolan snaps as he resets behind the center.
“I’m focused,” I grit out.
But the heat is getting to me. I can feel it now. The way my vision tunnels at the edges. The way my heartbeat pounds a little too hard, a little too fast.
Across the field, Gage stumbles. At first, it looks as if he missed a step. Then he goes down. Hard. The whistle blasts.
“Take a knee!” Coach shouts.
Everything stops. Trainers sprint onto the field. Gage’s helmet is off, his face pale, chest heaving.
“Heat exhaustion,” someone mutters.
I swallow and drag a hand over my face. That could be me. That will be me if I don’t get my shit together.
“Water. Now,” Coach orders.
I jog toward the sideline, slower than I want to admit.
My gaze catches on Alaia. She’s already moving – faster than some of the staff – grabbing bottles, shoving one into my hands before I even ask.
“Drink,” she says, voice firm. There’s no teasing or joking now.
I blink at her. She’s serious. Concern is etched across her face.
“Hey,” I manage. “I’m fine.”
“Drink, charmer.”
I obey. Cold water hits my tongue and I nearly groan. I dump half the bottle over my head, water streaming down my face and neck.
“You’re overheating.” She scans my face. “Your pupils are off.”
I huff out a weak laugh. “You been reading medical textbooks now?”
“No,” she shoots back. “I’ve been watching you.”
Her words land somewhere deep in my chest.
“You didn’t slow down once,” she continues. “Not even when you were swaying.”
“I wasn’t swaying.”
She lifts an eyebrow. Okay. Maybe I was.
“Sit,” she orders, pointing to the bench.
I drop down before I can argue. She presses another bottle into my hand. Then, a cold pack against the back of my neck. She’s efficient and focused. Like this matters. Like I matter.
“You don’t think this is stupid,” I say before I can stop myself.
Her gaze snaps to mine. “Your job?”
“Yeah.”
She looks at me like I’ve lost my mind.
“This,” she gestures to the field, to the players, to where Gage is being checked over, “is one of the hardest things I’ve ever watched.”
I blink. She sounds serious.
“You push your body until it breaks. And then you get up and do it again. How could anyone think that’s stupid?”
My throat tightens. My family’s voices echo in my mind. It’s just a game. A waste. A phase.
“You love this. I can see it all over your face when you’re out there.”
“I do,” I admit.
“I know.”
She’s not judging me. Not doubting. She believes me. She believes in me.
Coach’s whistle cuts through the air again. “Back on the field!”
I stand, slower this time.
Alaia catches my hand before I can step away. “Don’t pass out.”
I smirk. “Worried about me, gorgeous?”
Her grip tightens. “Yes.”
She’s not teasing. Not deflecting. She’s being honest and truthful.
The realization hits harder than any tackle. Even one from Corbin.
“I’ve got you,” I tell her.
She shakes her head. “No, Tanner. I’ve got you.”
For a second, I can’t move – except to stare at her. Then I nod once and jog back onto the field.
The heat hasn’t let up. My muscles still ache. My lungs still burn. But something’s different now. Because for the first time in my life—
Someone’s in my corner.