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Her long legs were decked out with gold boots and she was wearing a skimpy top. It was as if she was a mirage and I had imagined her, but I was positive it was her. The look on her face said everything.

“Looks like they’re changing their blocks.” Wes walked up behind me.

“Yeah, I see that.”

“I think we should throw to you three times straight instead of rotating between you, Persons, and Stubbs. It’ll confuse them for a few more plays.”

“All right,” I agreed.

Wes could be reciting the Greek alphabet right now and I wouldn’t know the difference. My head was reeling. I wanted the time out to last an hour so I could find her. I wanted to run up to each of the dancers until I knew what I had seen wasn’t a dream. She was here. Natalia was in the same place.

I heard the ref blow the whistle and jogged to the forty-yard line. I was on the far right side of the field and I made the mistake of looking at the Warriors’ bench. There she was, waving her pom-poms in the air. I’d know that ass anywhere. My lips had been all over it.

The adrenaline pumped throug

h me, but I hesitated half a second when Wes called for the snap. Damn it, it was enough to put me behind pace. Everything was a blur and I struggled to settle my nerves. I knew I had fucked up no matter how fast I ran or far I dove to get in position. When the ball headed for me, I was off step. I panicked, knowing there was almost no chance I could redeem myself for hesitating at the scrimmage line. I reached for it, throwing my entire body into the air with my full force, but the ball slipped through my fingers and landed on the ground, rolling out of bounds. I hung my head as the fans cheered and the Warriors hollered around me. Shit.

Wes screamed at me over the defense. “What the hell was that?”

I shook my head and tapped my helmet as if I hadn’t heard the call. If I caught the next one, it would all be forgiven. I knew better than to look over my shoulder. Her back was to me anyway.

Wes grunted the call and I took off. I wasn’t going to miss this time. The ball hit me square in the chest and I raced toward the goal line. I ran another ten yards before the cornerback took me down.

The crowd was pissed, and that was enough for me to know Wes would be happy. Stubbs gave me a thumbs up and I took my position behind the line of scrimmage. I had to keep my head clear. Another catch and we could run a scoring play.

I cracked my knuckles and leaned forward. I could maneuver through the linemen with no problem. As soon as I heard the snap, I ran toward the center of the field and the ball came spiraling toward me. I grasped it and tucked it against my chest. I shoved off one defender and plowed down a second one. I could see the end zone. I couldn’t believe they were going to let me score this easily. I raced over the ten-yard line, when out of nowhere, the cornerback plowed me to the ground from the side.

“Thought you could score?” He stood over me, baring his teeth. “Not in Warrior territory.”

I glared at him. “Who has the points on the board?”

He stepped over me as one of his teammates hauled him away. He was one of those jackasses who liked to fight. All it would take from me was a real taunt and he would have thrown himself on me. He didn’t care about fines or penalties. He was a defender.

Persons walked up to me. “What did that damn corner say?”

“Nothing.” I shook my head. “He’s a fucking moron.”

Persons slapped my helmet a few times. “Going to let me get this six?”

I laughed. “You’re kidding, right?”

He looked straight in my eyes, the dark paint running down his cheeks from the humid night. “I don’t shit talk about the score.”

I knew I had to block this time, but I wanted those points. I needed them. I gritted my teeth together, determined to get open. If Wes saw me in the end zone, he would throw it to me no matter what play he called. We were alike in that way—we both loved to score.

I faced the Warriors’ front line. I glared at the man in front of me. His nostrils flared and his knuckles were white from pressing into the grass with over three hundred pounds of weight. I’d studied him. He was strong, but sluggish.

“You’re not getting past me,” he threatened.

“You sure about that?” I smiled, cocking my head to the side.

He was leaning so far forward it would be easy to throw him off balance. As soon as Wes took the snap I hurled myself forward, throwing the lineman to the ground. He grunted, reaching for my legs, but I was ready for the arms and hands that would come for me. I jumped high over his back, running past him into the end zone. Persons and I were on opposite sides of the goal post, but he had double coverage and I was wide open.

I felt the surge of adrenaline. The energy sizzle under my skin. I needed Wes to see me, and this play was mine.

The ball zipped close to my head and I caught it with one hand, yanking it from the air. There was no way to describe the feeling. The purity of the moment when I scored for the team. It was fucking unreal.

The Warrior crowd started throwing popcorn and beer cans down from the stands. Stubbs gave me a high-five and I felt like the luckiest bastard here. Back-to-back touchdowns and it was only the first quarter.