Chapter 6 #3
“That’s . . .” Genius. It was, I had to admit, not stupid. It was actually the kind of move I hadn’t expected from a linebacker. But I couldn’t tell him that, because telling this guy he had a good idea would only make me resent the fact that I hadn’t thought of it first. “That is insanely risky.”
He started walking again, reaching back and pulling me alongside him. “Safety in numbers. It’s how a pride works.”
I blinked. “Lions? You’re making a pun about lions after that . . . that bombshell?”
He shrugged, looking up at the Den and its huge lion ensign. “Guess I was in the theme.”
“And did you tell them about me? Mason?” Panic built within me.
He gave a slight shake of his head, and I just knew from his expression that he thought I was an idiot for asking. “No. We’re not stupid.”
“Are you sure?” I snapped.
“For someone here doing what you’re doing, you’re not really a big risk-taker, are you?” he muttered, holding the door open for me.
“You risk exposing my family and me,” I hissed at him, hoping no one could hear us.
“Nah.”
He walked down a dark tunnel, and I stared at the width of his back.
He was a solid specimen of a man and a sportsman.
There was a brutal precision to him, from the powerful shape of his shoulders to the carved definition of his chest, every line of him a study in controlled strength.
It was what made him a damn good linebacker, and it was also why I kept finding it hard not to look at him.
I really resented the fact that I found him so attractive.
His conversation skills could be improved, but the fact that he wasn’t one to shout for headlines made him more attractive.
Or maybe I needed to focus on my job, and not his ass.
I hurried after him, not expecting him to stop, and I bounced right off his back like I’d walked into a wall. One arm snaked back, grabbed me, and pulled me close.
“Wh—”
“Shh,” he warned.
Noah stood perfectly still, and I had no choice but to breathe in his scent.
“I don’t like it,” Jason was saying. “I don’t like it at all.”
“But you do believe it,” Dante asked him quietly.
Noah moved slightly to the left so he could see, pulling me around to his side. His arm was still wrapped around me, holding me in place.
“I . . . Fuck I don’t know.”
“Of course you believe it,” Dustin said coolly. “You didn’t even blink when we told you. This isn’t news to you.”
I saw the tight end lower his head. “You don’t understand,” he told us. “He said this is how it works.”
Noah’s body tensed, and then he was striding out of the tunnel, taking me with him.
“We’re not alone,” his voice held a low tone of command. He barely glanced at me, but the other three all focused on me like they forgot I was here.
Noah turned to me. “Go back to the entrance, wait for me to come get you.”
He was already walking away, the others following him before I could tell him to fuck off.
I watched them put distance between us, and not one of them turned to make sure I’d done as I was told. They had assumed Briar, the meek and mild one, had done exactly as the big, scary linebacker said.
Fuck that. Fuck them. Fuck him. Because I had no intention of being ordered about by a linebacker three years my junior.
I quickly ran up a few steps, and then I ducked behind a row of seats and, in true ‘she’s lost her mind’ fashion, I practically crawled along the stadium, partially hidden by the rows of seats, while they formed a huddle.
A huddle that stupidly had its back to me, and all of its focus on Jason Moore.
I kept myself low and still as they began to speak, my forehead practically pressed to the seats in front so I could see them.
“Who told you?” Noah asked Jason.
“Coach. He told us this was how the game worked.”
“By covering injuries? Faking grades? Covering assaults?” Dante asked him scathingly.
“Hey, I don’t know about any of that,” Jason protested, holding his hands up.
“And now you do.” Dustin’s voice was calm but cool, not like him at all. “So what are you going to do?”
Jason looked at them in despair, as if he thought they were going to offer a lifeline. These guys weren’t who he needed in this situation. “I just want to play my next season, declare for the Draft, and put it behind me,” he said.
The others were frowning, but I watched as Noah looked back to the entrance and saw I was gone. Or no longer visible would be the best way to describe it.
He moved out of the huddle, arms across his chest, and the look he gave Jason made my pulse pick up. Noah Matthews had seen something his friends didn’t see. Jason looked at his shoes. At the stadium wall, at anything that wasn’t one of them.
“You look guilty as fuck,” Noah’s voice was hard. “What has he made you do?”
The tight end’s eyes flicked from one to the other, fear and warning in his gaze.
Dante shook his head. “Tell us. Tell us what he’s got on you.”
Jason stepped back, running his hands through his hair in frustration. “I just want to play ball.”
“Spit it out before I knock it out.” Noah took one step forward.
Whoa, I was not expecting that. But it worked; Moore looked wary.
“Hey, let him talk,” Dustin said, pulling on Noah’s arm but not moving him an inch.
Noah looked down at the hand on his arm, and then at Jason. It was not friendly. “You heard him. Talk.”