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NOAH

My veins buzz with adrenaline as my team and I jog out of the tunnel and onto the Tampa Barracudas’ field. It’s our first regular season game, and playing at home stadium is double the pressure. Although, my life’s atmosphere lately could be compared to Neptune’s. It’s only a matter of time before diamond rain pours down on me from these extreme conditions.

Fortunately, Charlotte relieved some of that tension after the gala last night. In more ways than one. I’ve been so unsure where her head is at, and I know we still have a lot to figure out, but my god was it incredible to be with her and ignore all the chaos.

Making my way to the sideline, I scan the front row. As part of my contract, I get four season tickets to every home game. When I reach the bench, my eyes find Theo, Charlotte, Mom, and Tony. I know Mom and Tony aren’t fully on board with Charlotte’s and my situation, but I hope they won’t do anything to make her feel uncomfortable.

Charlotte’s wearing my new jersey, number thirteen, tight over her bump. Mine. Her attention turns toward the field, and when our eyes meet, vivid memories of last night come flooding through. Fuck. I shake them away, no desire for ninety thousand fans to see another premature ejaculation.

Part of me was embarrassed, but seeing the fire in Charlotte’s eyes, how much it turned her on… yeah, she can tie me up and torture me any time. She picks up a sign and holds it above her head, and my mouth splits into a shit-eating grin.

The QB’s going home with me!

Hell yeah, I am.

Three quarters pass, and my ass has been glued to the bench the entire time. A one-eighty from my time at Crystal Bay. Our first-string quarterback, Mike Lorraine, who’s been with the Barracudas for years, is out there smashing it. We’re beating New Orleans 21-7.

I want to be on a winning team as much as the next guy, but what I much prefer is actually playing on a winning team. Otherwise I might as well be in the bleachers. Glancing behind me, I see my fan club is still cheering excitedly. Mom and Charlotte are laughing together and seem to be getting along fine.

I force my gaze back to the field. Focus. I played in a few preseason games and even threw three touchdowns, but those don’t count for anything. They’re basically scrimmages with half a stadium of screaming onlookers.

“Caruso!” Coach Bexley calls, and I fly off the bench, helmet optimistically in hand.

“You’re swapping in for Lorraine,” he says.

I nod, throwing my helmet on and positioning the mouth guard. Lorraine runs towards us, and I sprint out, swapping places. Line of scrimmage is fifty yards from the end zone, and I set up behind the center.

Taking a deep breath, I shove all negative shit from my mind and do the one thing I can. Throw a fucking football.

“Seventy-two. Eighty-nine. Forty-four,” I shout, veins buzzing, molars grinding on the mouth guard between calls. “Down.” Glancing left and right, I ensure my running backs are in position. “Set.” My eyes focus on the ball below the center’s fingertips. “Hike!”

It soars toward me, directly into my hands. I shuffle backwards, fingers gripping the leather laces, arm cocked back as I search the field. Trey Perez, our fastest running back, is sprinting down the field, a defender on his heels, but he’s coming out ahead to the location the play instructed. I send the ball spiraling through the air and stumble to a pause.

The stadium falls to a hush, and as if in slow motion, it drops into Perez’s arms.

“Yes!” I shout, jogging forward and watching as he continues outrunning the defender, gaining yardage.

He’s at the thirty.

Twenty.

Ten.

Five yards.

And that’s a motherfucking touchdown!

I yell, leaping up, a few of the Barracudas running over to me for high fives and a celebratory huddle.

I, Noah Caruso, Barracudas’ quarterback, have thrown my very first touchdown in a pro game.

The huddle breaks, and I jog towards the sideline so special teams can plan for the extra point. Charlotte’s eyes are following me, and I tap my hand to my helmet’s chin mask, then throw it her way like a football, hoping she gets the point. She throws her hand in the air, “catching” it with a huge grin on her face, and surprises me by placing it on her stomach.

My smile is massive the rest of the game.

We win 28-14, and I may not know much right now, but playing the game I love with Charlotte screaming my name from the bleachers is all I’ll ever need.