Page 49 of Game Changer (Hidden Attractions #2)

Ethan

“Looks like it’s about to pour any minute.” Mark squints at the ominous sky overlooking the field. Thick, dark clouds swirl above us and cast the bleachers in shadow. “I hope the game finishes before.” He holds a clipboard to his chest as the ref whistles a time-out.

It’s the fourth quarter, another close game.

With only forty-five seconds left on the clock, we’re up by a single touchdown; so as long as the Stingrays don’t get close enough for a field goal, we’ll win.

But the ball is in their possession and it’s third down, so it’s on the defense to make this final stop.

Jake looks as white as a ghost.

Mark rambles on about the play he suggests we run, but my gaze is fixed on Jake.

He’s rubbing his palm against his heaving chest, squeezing his eyes shut tight.

The kid is about to have an anxiety attack on the field.

Not that I can blame him. The pressure is a lot, especially since we’ll advance to sectionals if we win this game.

“Jake. Come over here.” I jerk my chin away from the rest of the team, watching as he runs over on shaky limbs. Mark nods in understanding after he takes one look at the poor kid’s face, then returns to the remainder of the kids to coach them through the play. “What’s going on, man? Talk to me.”

“I can’t do it,” he says breathily. “What if I can’t stop him? I haven’t been able to nail the play once.”

I arch a brow. “That’s not what I was told. I heard you got your first sack last game.”

“Yeah, but it was a lucky play. I haven’t been able to do it since.” His eyes dart to the field, a new shade of pale washing over him. “I’m sorry,” he stutters. “This is stupid. I shouldn’t be so nervous about this.”

My chest squeezes when I put a hand on his shoulder. “You have no reason to be sorry. You’re anxious about performing your best, and that’s understandable. It would be weird if you weren’t worried. It means you care.”

“I just don’t want to let anyone down.”

“Let anyone down? Let me tell you, kid, at some point in your football career, it’s bound to happen.

You won’t always be the best player on the field, but that’s what being part of a team is for.

I believe you can do this, and Mark and Ronnie do too.

But win or lose, we’ll have your back. There’s no need to feel pressure, all right?

My only expectation is that you go out there and try your best because you love the game.

You shouldn’t be playing for any other reason. ”

The ref blows the whistle, signaling the end of the time-out, and with bated breath, I wait to see what Jake will decide to do. Thunder rumbles in the distance, and the football moms on the sidelines are already packing up their gear, ready to make a run for it if it starts raining.

“All right,” he says with a decisive nod. He bounces from toe to toe, and I smack his helmet and signal for him to get on the field, pride surging through every chamber of my heart. “Thanks, Coach.”

Before I can correct him, he jogs toward his teammates, while the new title reverberates deep in my chest like a seed waiting to blossom.

A whistle falls around my neck, and it isn’t until now that I realize Ronnie was behind us and overheard our entire conversation.

“I know I said I’d wait for you to accept the position, but tough shit. Welcome to the team.”

I clench the whistle tightly, unable to come up with a rebuttal when it feels so right. Assistant Coach . God, the smile on my face is cheesy as hell.

“Thanks, Ronnie,” I say when Mark approaches my side. My friend punches me on the shoulder, and although it’s meant to be joking, it causes me to wince. “Jesus,” I hiss, rubbing the sore spot. “I don’t think you understand how freakishly strong you are.”

He tips his head back and laughs. “Or you’re just weak.”

Our laughter fades when the play starts.

The opposing team hikes the ball, and their quarterback looks around for someone to throw it to.

The tight end, wide receivers, running back.

. . . Our team is doing a damn good job at blocking, but my eyes remain glued on Jake, who drops his shoulder low and shoves the offensive lineman with enough brute force to send him flying backward.

Mark throws the clipboard in disbelief and I take off running along the sidelines to watch it play out. “Yes, yes, yes ! Sack him, Jake!”

Adrenaline rushes through my bloodstream as I watch Jake take the quarterback to the ground.

The crowd on the bleachers and sidelines goes wild.

The ref signals the end of the game, declaring us the winners, and I run onto the field to tackle my little superstars.

We’re a mess of a huddle when the sky opens up and rain streams down to coat their sweaty, sticky skin, but the thing they don’t tell you about coaching?

You feel so much pride and love for one group of kids that it fills all the empty spaces inside you until they’re numb. I haven’t felt this good in weeks.

“Do we get pizza tonight?” Devonte shouts.

“Oh, most definitely. Pizza is on me tonight, guys. You made me proud.”

Mark races over with a few umbrellas, Leo sidling up beside him with his own. I’m happy he came out to the game to show his support, but I roll my eyes the second he opens his mouth.

“Congrats on the win!” he shouts over the downpour. “Bummer about the rain, though. I was going to try and score one of the football moms.” He scans the almost deserted bleachers, spotting Tabi on the sideline with her dad and Annie before he gets that mischievous grin. “Well, actually . . . ”

“No.”

A single word from Mark makes Leo’s spine straighten. Mark’s tone leaves no room for debate. Leo flicks his eyes from Tabi to Mark before realization dawns on him. “Oh, I get it. Off-limits, huh? I’ll respect that.”

Mark doesn’t reply; he only clenches his jaw before fixing his attention on the kids celebrating in the rain. Even with the umbrella, water pelts my skin like an ice-cold shower, and in seconds I’m shivering and craving the warmth of my car.

“I’ll meet you guys for pizza?” I shout over the storm.

They nod in unison, opting to celebrate with the team for a few more minutes.

I’m walking off the field when a flash of neon orange catches my attention in the stands.

I squint through the rain at the person sitting on the bleachers in the middle of a fucking downpour with no umbrella, only to still at the sight of eyes I’d remember anywhere.

Eyes that I’ve tried to forget with no luck.

Eyes that appear in my dreams each night like a hauntingly beautiful fairy tale.

Why is she here?

Fuck, that’s not important.

She’s here .

Without wasting another second, I jog over to the bleachers and dart up the risers to reach her at the top.

She’s drenched, droplets of water trailing down her face and dripping onto the gaudy jersey below.

Mascara stains her cheeks from the rain, or maybe she’s been crying.

I honestly can’t tell. Whatever the case, she’s the prettiest fucking girl alive, and perhaps the craziest.

“Are you insane?” I shout. “It’s freezing out here!”

She shakes her head when I offer her the umbrella. “Take it,” I insist.

“I don’t want it, Ethan. This isn’t a blizzard, but it might as well be.”

What the hell is she talking about?

Christ, she’s probably already sick from the weather.

I grab her wrist to pull her closer, sheltering us from the rain under the tiny umbrella.

She trembles beside me, shivering from head to toe.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I ask.

“You’re going to catch pneumonia. You hate the rain.

And didn’t you say you’d never wear orange because it isn’t your color?

” I’m rambling, but truthfully, it’s only to distract myself from my nerves regarding the real reason she decided to watch the game.

“I’m here for you.”

Her words knock me off kilter.

“Maya.” Damn my sky-rocketing pulse. This can’t mean what I think it means. I refuse to get my hopes up only to have them shot down again. “I meant what I said. I would never ask you to choose—”

“I came here to ask if you’re free for a cookout next weekend.

” A tiny grin tugging at her lips gives her excitement away, and my mouth dries out in seconds.

My heart pounds as hard as a drum in my chest, and I’m unsure if she means what I’m assuming is a formal invitation from her parents to give me a shot.

“I’m here to fight for you,” she continues.

“Because you deserve someone who gives you the same effort you put into them. You taught me to believe in myself, which is why I’m going to finish this business degree to open up my own salon after I graduate.

Because not only did I fight for us, but I fought for myself, and I couldn’t have gained the courage to do that without you by my side every step of the way.

I’d do anything for you, Ethan, including taking a bus back home in the wee hours of the morning to change my parents’ minds.

I’ll sit in the rain for you even though I despise it.

I’ll wear orange because it’s your team’s color.

I’ll—” She laughs when I wrap an arm around her waist. “You’ve done whatever you can to surpass my high standards, but it’s time I do the same for you. ”

“Maya.”

“I don’t deserve another chance, not by any means, but I promise if you agree to try this one last time, I’ll never lie to you again. You can trust me.”

“Maya.”

“Because I’m in love with you, Ethan Davis,” she reveals, with a shaky exhale.

Rain batters the bleachers around us, drowning out all the other voices but hers.

In this moment, the universe includes no one but us.

“This isn’t the traditional rom-com ending I always imagined I’d have, but it’s mine , and I’m righting my wrongs and coming clean right here, right now, because if I can’t have you, I don’t want anyone. ”