Page 2 of Flag On The Play (Gridiron Warriors #5)

FINLAY

N ova Wilde.

Holy hell.

She looks even better than she did in high school. Like every memory of her got upgraded and turned lethal. That body? Insane. That slow, sultry smile? Dangerous. And those eyes are still sharp enough to cut through me, but with something deeper behind them now. Something I can’t quite name.

Confident. Untouchable. Magnetic as ever.

I haven’t seen her in years. And yet, tonight, I just saw every inch of her.

Stripping.

I never would’ve guessed it.

Back then, she wasn’t the type to show skin for attention.

She didn’t flirt. Didn’t chase. While every other girl practically begged for my time, Nova walked past me like I was invisible.

That’s what made her stick, what made her infuriating.

She had that holier-than-thou vibe. Always acting like she was above the bullshit. Above me.

And now? She’s up on a stage, dancing for money.

It’s shocking.

“You know she walked off stage, right?” Theo nudges my shoulder, pulling my gaze back to the now-empty platform.

Theo Bennett, smooth as ever. Best damn wide receiver in the league. The man runs routes like poetry in motion, which is fitting, considering the guy actually writes poetry. Not that he’d ever admit that shit in the locker room.

I don’t look at him. Just keep my eyes locked on the curtain she disappeared behind. “I know her.”

“We all know one or two strippers, Finlay,” Jace cuts in with a laugh.

Jace "Diesel" Dalton, our running back and self-proclaimed “heartbeat of the offense.” Fast, cocky, reckless. He talks shit like it’s his second language and somehow always makes it sound charming. Notorious for wild hookups and even worse advice.

I finally force myself to look away from the stage and turn toward them. “I went to high school with her.”

Jace perks up, eyes lit with interest. “No shit. You hook up with her or something?”

“Fuck no,” I say too fast, too sharp. “Couldn’t stand her. Always had this vibe like she was better than everyone. Guess that didn’t work out too well for her, considering…” I gesture vaguely at the stage. “Stripping.”

They both laugh, and I chuckle along, even though it tastes bitter in my mouth. Because that’s the story, right? The one I’m telling myself.

But the truth?

I hated her back then because she saw through me. Because she didn’t want to be part of my orbit. And maybe because a small, buried part of me wanted to be in hers.

When we planned this night out, one rare break in our insane season schedule, I was expecting booze, maybe a couple of lap dances, and a hell of a lot of forgetting. What I wasn’t expecting?

Nova Wilde.

Lighting up a stage like she owns the world and reminding me exactly why I’ve never really forgotten her.

“So, you gonna get a lap dance from her?” Jace asks, that familiar smug grin plastered across his face.

I toss back the rest of my beer and level him with a stare. “Are you fucking serious?”

He slams back another shot, completely unbothered. “Oh hell yes.”

It’s tempting. Way too tempting. Which is exactly why I won’t do it.

I’m not about to spend my one rare night off letting the Ice Queen grind on me.

Yeah, that was the nickname we, me and the rest of the team, gave her back in high school.

Cold. Untouchable. Full of herself. I asked her out, she shut me down in front of everyone, and the guys turned it into a joke so I could save face.

Star quarterback gets iced by the one girl who doesn’t care? Yeah. That one burned.

I’m sure she’s changed. Hell, we all have. But still, she’s not worth it. Not tonight.

“I’m sure she could use the money,” I say with a smirk, grabbing another beer. “But I like to be turned on from a lap dance.”

It’s a lie. A bold-faced, bitter-tasting lie.

Because the truth is, Nova Wilde turned me on in high school, and she sure as hell did again tonight. That slow, confident sway of her hips? That smug little smile? She’s a walking fantasy, and the worst part is, she knows it.

“Well, if you aren’t gonna do it, I am. You went to high school with her. I didn’t.” Jace stands, adjusting his shirt and glancing toward the back booths. “You’re cool with that, right?”

No. Fuck no. The thought of Nova grinding on him makes my jaw clench hard enough to crack a molar. The idea of his hands on her body, of her laughing at his stupid jokes, or giving him the attention she never gave me makes something primal twist in my chest.

But I can’t say that.

Can’t admit that the girl who rejected me years ago still has a grip on me like no one else.

“Yeah, of course,” I lie. “Go for it.”

The words taste like acid.

Jace slaps my back and strolls off toward the private booths like he’s about to win the damn lottery.

“You really cool with it?” Theo asks, raising an eyebrow as he sips his beer. His always way too observant eyes watch me like he already knows the answer.

I shrug and grab the nearest shot. “Haven’t talked to her since high school. I don’t care what she does or what Jace does with her.”

Another lie.

I throw back the shot to wash down the lie and let it burn inside me like the alcohol.

“Good,” Theo says, setting his drink down. “Because I’m not here to watch you mope around at this table. First lap dance is on me.”

The idea of getting a lap dance right now feels about as exciting as taking a sack in the fourth quarter. But I force a grin and stand. “Let’s go.”

We get led to the back where the lights are lower, the music deeper, and the drinks stronger. Candy, a dancer with legs for days and a killer smile, slides into my lap like we’ve known each other for years.

She’s good. Real good.

Smooth moves, soft skin, and a practiced rhythm that earns her tips without even trying. Her tits brush against my face, her hips grinding perfectly to the beat. I know I’m supposed to be into this.

But all I can think about is Nova.

Her curves. Her eyes. The way she owned the stage without even trying. She didn’t dance like the others. She moved like she meant it. Like she was telling a story no one else could hear.

“You’re quiet,” Candy purrs, brushing her lips near my ear.

“Long day,” I murmur.

She chuckles, pulling back just enough to look at me. “You came to the wrong place to relax, then.”

I offer a tight smile. “You know the girl who danced earlier? Lux?”

Candy’s brows lift slightly. “Lux doesn’t usually talk to anyone.”

“Just wondering if she’s still here.”

Candy leans in again, her body still moving, her voice softer now. “Left right after her set. Doesn’t hang around.”

Relief washes over me, uninvited but undeniable. I don’t know what I would’ve done if I saw her up close again. Maybe something stupid.

As the song ends, Candy rises and smooths her hands over her thighs. “Anything else I can do for you, quarterback?”

So she knows who I am. Good.

I hesitate, then reach into my jacket and pull out the envelope that’s been burning a hole in my pocket since I left the hotel. I peel off two hundred in crisp bills and hand it to her.

“I need a favor.”

Candy arches a brow, intrigued.

“Can you give the rest of this to Lux? No note, no message. Just give it to her.”

She looks at the envelope, thick and heavy with cash, and then back at me.

“You got it,” she says, slipping the envelope into her clutch without question.

I grin, leaning back in the chair as she walks away.

Two grand.

Maybe it’ll piss her off.

Maybe it’ll help her.

Either way, the thought of Nova Wilde opening that envelope and knowing it came from me ?

Yeah.

That’s satisfying as hell.