Chapter 4 #2
“The worst kind,” Mason says, but there's the tiniest hint of amusement. I think. It’s hard to tell since neutral is his default function. “He threw three interceptions the day after your ten-month anniversary.”
“That was food poisoning!” I argue.
“Sure, it was,” Dax smirks. “Who even keeps track of their month anniversaries?”
I shake my head, defeated but not really caring. Seeing Honey smile is the only thing that’s important to me.
“Don’t you guys have somewhere to be instead of making me look bad?”
“Nope,” Sebi grins. “This is entertainment gold.”
“Actually, we should review the footage from today,” Mason says, and everyone groans. “Especially that missed connection in the third drill.”
“Always working,” Dax sighs, but he nods, raising his hands in defeat. “Fine. Let's go dissect our failures instead of having fun.”
As they walk away, Reese lingers behind the group and gives Honey a small side hug. “It’s good seeing you here, Honey. You should come to the Pep Rally before the game this weekend,” he says quietly. “We’d love to see Zach’s unofficial mascot rooting for him.”
I glance at Honey, gauging her reaction. She hesitates, but then nods. “That sounds nice.”
“Cool,” Reese says. “See you there.” He jogs to catch up with the others, leaving Honey and me alone at the edge of the field.
Honey’s got a little crease in her brow, and I already know what that means.
She’s not going to come to the Pep Rally.
She only agreed to attend some games because Coach promised she could stay in one of the suites instead of out in the student section.
I already know she’ll find a reason to bail, and I don’t blame her.
Parties aren’t her thing, and any convincing her that they would be different than high school was obliterated when she overheard some girls talking shit about her at the first game she attended.
I can’t deny I’m disappointed. Being without her at these events sucks. I just wish she’d let me show her things could be different. That it’s not about the party, or the crowd, or the noise. It’s about finding the right people.
I pull her closer, about to ask what she thought of practice, but before I can get the words out, a shrill voice cuts through the air.
“Zach! Zach Evans!”
Honey shifts beside me, and just like that, the moment’s gone. I glance up at the chorus of voices calling my name, and there’s a cluster of girls waving their hands wildly with their phones out.
Honey rises on her toes and gives my hand a squeeze. “You might need to go and say hi. They’ve been waiting for you all practice.”
My jaw ticks when the calls get louder and more insistent.
“I’m not in the mood to pander to people who don’t matter to me,” I say, my eyes fixed on her.
Leaning in, I whisper, “I’m going to sneak back into the locker room, take the fastest shower of my life, and meet you outside the east entrance in ten minutes.
The one behind the equipment shed that nobody uses. You know the one, it’s where I—”
Before I can finish that sentence, Honey covers my mouth with her hand. “Zach. We’re in public.”
She takes her time to move her hand, but once she does, I’m grinning. “You didn’t seem to mind when I was on my knees for you.”
Her cheeks turn pink, but once again, the moment’s ruined by more chanting. I give her a quick kiss. “Ten minutes. East Entrance. Go around the back and don’t be late, or I’ll have to come and find you.”
“What if I like a little hide-and-seek?”
“Then I’d still find you,” I say, already backing away and grinning like an idiot. “When are you going to realize I’d follow you anywhere, Honeycomb? Even to that prison you call a dorm.”
With one last wink, I turn and jog toward the locker room tunnel, ignoring the disappointed cries from the stands, because the only girl I’m showing up for is the one still standing there in my jersey.
“Thank you so much, Zach,” a girl says, smiling at a picture of me.
I force out a smile, my hand cramping as I sign what feels like the fiftieth poster thrust into my face. Despite all efforts to escape through the back entrance, the crowd found me anyway.
I take another poster and brace it against my knee to sign, but my attention keeps drifting to Honey. She’s by my truck, arms wrapped tight around herself, and shivering because I’ve made her wait in the freezing cold for almost twenty minutes. I feel like an asshole.
I hand the poster back, noting the stack of unsigned posters staring at me.
Where the hell did they get that picture from?
Yeah, I don’t care what Coach Summers says, I can’t keep doing this.
“I'm sorry, folks, that's all for tonight,” I finally announce, my voice firm but maintaining the friendly tone they drilled into me during media training. “Got someone waiting for me.”
I push through the crowd, ignoring the disappointed groans, and jog straight to my girl. She lifts her head slowly, and her lips part when our eyes find each other.
I know that look. I can see the heat behind her eyes. All I want to do is drag her behind the equipment shed and kiss her until she forgets her own name.
“Marry me?” I ask, almost absentmindedly as I approach her. It just slips out, but can you blame me? I want to stop all this pointless fawning and lock her down.
Now. Yesterday. Forever.
She huffs out a little laugh and stands on her tiptoes to give me a quick kiss.
I lean into it, my hands gripping her shoulders to keep her close, but she pulls away before I'm ready, then gives me a small smile.
“Not right now,” she whispers.
Still not a no. She never gives me one, which is why I keep pushing my luck, asking again and again even when she rolls her eyes at me.
One day she’ll say yes.
I just need to be patient.
“Something’s different,” I say, sliding an arm around her waist and tugging her into me until her chest brushes against mine.
That’s when I see it.
The twinkle in her eye. The dimples on her cheek that only show when she’s smiling genuinely.
“Honeycomb, you’re practically glowing.”
Her mouth curls into a smile. “Glowing?”
“Don’t play dumb,” I say, my focus dropping onto her lips. “You look good. Really good. Did watching me throw all those passes get you worked up?”
She lets out a soft laugh, biting her bottom lip, and fuck, it takes everything in me not to take over.
“I mean, it didn’t hurt,” she teases.
I grin, already leaning in, ready to kiss her for every girl who’s ever talked shit about her to see, but then she drops her eyes and says quietly, “I think I made some friends today.”
I pause, hand still holding onto her hip, my smile widening.
“Oh, yeah?” I ask, my voice low.
She nods, glancing up at me from under her lashes. “Jenni and Chris. I met them in class. They were actually… really nice. One of them even stepped in when a girl made a rude comment.”
“Fuck,” I mutter, pulling her in even closer, pressing my forehead to hers. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear that.”
“I, uh, even went to lunch with them,” she adds coyly, as though that isn’t the fucking cherry on top. “It was really nice to be around people who didn’t know anything about me. Jenni’s a psych major and Chris is on the hockey team. He said I should come to a game sometime.”
“Well, I like the sound of Jenni,” I say slowly. “Chris… not so much.”
She rolls her eyes and groans. “Why not?”
“Because you’re mine,” I say, tugging her closer and kissing her cheek. She slaps my chest lightly, and for a second I think she’s going to tease me for being possessive.
That’s not what it is, though.
I’m just a guy who knows he hit the damn jackpot, and I’m not losing the only thing that makes any of this worth it.
I move to kiss her on the lips, but as I do, my phone buzzes.
Then again. And again.
There’s a rapid succession of notifications, vibrating against my thigh like an angry hornet.
I ignore it, placing my lips on hers, but she’s already pushing me away and glancing at my pocket.
“Someone’s trying to reach you.”
I exhale and reach for my phone to silence it, but Honey’s gaze drops to the screen before I can flip it over. I try to move it out of sight, but she grabs my wrist, reading the stream of messages as they appear.
@ZachAttack69: That throw today? Unreal. I knew you were good with your hands, but that was something special. ??
@QBThirstTrap: You left me on read again, Zaddy. Don’t make me beg. ?? ??
@EvansEndZone: Those pants don’t hide anything. Pretty sure you know that, don’t you, babe?
@SaintMichaelsSidePiece: Still thinking about you pinning me after the game. You promised I’d get my turn.
@HydrateMeZach: Put me on your recovery schedule, QB. I’ll be dripping before you even break a sweat. ????
“Who are all these people?” I can hear the doubt in her voice, and I hate that this has ruined the mood between us. When I don’t answer right away, she looks up at me with her honey-colored eyes, almost pleading for me to say something.
“It’s just messages from my social media accounts.”
“B-but I thought you didn’t manage your social media anymore?”
“I don’t. The marketing intern does, but I keep the logins since I like to know what’s being posted under my name.”
“Are all the messages like that?”
“Yeah,” I admit, keeping my tone light. “I’m not allowed to block them. The bad publicity that comes with it could affect my NIL deal.”
“And you don't respond to them?” she asks, arching a brow.
I laugh, rubbing my nose against hers. “Of course not. The only person I’m interested in is you. Always you.”
Then I cup her face gently, my thumbs brushing over her freezing cheeks. She leans into the touch without hesitation, and it makes my chest ache in the best way.
“Come home with me,” I whisper. “You still haven't seen the place, and that fireplace I keep telling you about could warm you up properly.”
She eyes me suspiciously. “I thought you said you couldn't see me tonight. That's why I came to practice.”
“Yeah, I was supposed to go over some video, but fuck it. I'll get up early and do it instead.”
“I don't want to get in the way.”
“You never get in the way.”
She purses her lips together before pushing them to the side.
“Please.” I’m not averse to begging when it comes to her. “Let me show you my house, at least. I know you don't want to live there. I've got that message loud and clear, but you haven't even come over to see it. Let me spoil you a little tonight.”
A hint of a smile tugs at her lips, and for a second, she tries to fight it as though agreeing with me might be giving too much away.
“Okay,” she says softly.
“Fuck, yes,” I murmur, leaning in and kissing her again, slower this time, savoring it, because this moment? It’s everything I’ve been pushing for.
Honey. In my house. In my bed. It’s everything.