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Chapter Nineteen

ROWAN

T here’d been talk that Allbreck was past its prime, but I didn’t want to believe it until now. We’re fourteen points up after the third quarter, and their defense is flagging. I’m almost waiting for the other shoe to drop. After three seasons unable to touch them, it’s a little hard to convince myself that it’s true.

We’ve talked about their lineup, about how all their best players graduated last year and they haven’t had an easy time filling the roster, but nothing could have prepared me for what we’re up against now. They’re not a bad team-it’s clear that it’s still a quality program-but there’s hope building among my guys that this could be our year to finally knock them down a peg.

I’m pretty sure the only thing keeping their fans in the seats is the toad currently doing cartwheels down the twenty-yard line. I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been watching Ruth out of the corner of my eye for the whole game. There’s just something that keeps pulling my attention in her direction, and it has nothing to do with the costume.

Fuck. I miss her.

I shake off my distraction, rolling my shoulders and gearing up for the final quarter. I need to stay focused on the game and not have my thoughts run away with a girl who hasn’t spoken to me for two weeks. We finally have a shot at winning our conference this year, and I’m not about to let the guys down because I couldn’t keep my eyes off the opposing team’s mascot.

“Dude! Can you believe this?” Christian claps me on the shoulder just as I’m taking a sip of my water. The movement jars me and I end up sloshing liquid across half of my face.

“It’s going well,” I concede, not wanting to get carried away. I’ve seen teams turn around games from worse positions than theirs. “But we still got work to do.”

He chuckles. “Can’t we just enjoy this? We’re finally showing these assholes who we are!”

He deserves to be excited about this, he’s playing some great football out there. But there’s one quarter left and everything still to play for. “Just keep your head on straight.”

He sobers, giving me his full attention. “You got it, Ro.”

The ref waves us over and we start jogging into position. I take my place in front of Jasper and crouch down, ready to take the snap. As I settle, a flash of green catches my eyes. My gaze darts right, just in time to see Ruth screw up the landing on her last tumble and go down hard on her ass, falling back until her head hits the turf.

Oh shit. I immediately straighten, ready to run over there and check on her, make sure she’s not hurt, when the roar of the crowd registers and I remember where I am.

I can’t go check on her; I can’t see if she’s okay, if she twisted something or broke her wrist, or any of the other hundred things racing across my brain right now.

I could throw up. Everything slows down, everything disappears except for her, and I can’t even see her face to know if she’s alright. I try to focus, to do what I’ve been trained to do, but it goes against every urge in my body.

If I do anything except keep playing, I could fuck up our first chance at beating Allbreck in the last four years, and the guys would never forgive me. So instead of doing what I want to do, what my mind is screaming at me to do, I crouch down and suck in some deep breaths, clearing my mind of anything except for where I need this football to go.

That all goes to hell when I see Ruth being escorted off the sidelines by a medic, disappearing into the tunnel and out of my sight. My snap goes too far left and Jasper fumbles it, not expecting the move. He manages to get control of the ball, but by the time he’s ready to pass it off, two of Allbreck’s defensive line are bearing down on us. I block one of them, but he manages to tackle me to the field, leaving Jasper open for the other. It’s an obvious play, one that’s over in seconds, but still, I fall for it, and Allbreck takes control of the ball.

There’s a moment as I lay on the turf, squinting against the sun, that I curse Ruth for getting in my head so fuckin’ much. She falls over, and I fuck up a move I’ve been practicing since I was in peewee. But as fast as it happens, the curse gets washed away by the worry I can’t get away from.

The final quarter is tough after my screwup, but we manage to regain control. I make a point of not looking towards the away team tunnel as Ruth exits, only allowing myself a quick glance at the Jumbotron, where I see her running and jumping like nothing ever happened.

I don’t want to think about the way my chest loosens as I see that she’s okay, how the tension in my shoulders eases and my fingers unclench from the fist they’ve been curled into. I try to tell myself that it doesn’t matter to me, that I’m focused on the game, that I didn’t feel the urge to run off the field and chase her down that tunnel, but I’d be a damn liar if I said I don’t play better once she’s back where I can see her.