Page 6 of Hidden Plays (Desert Football #1)

THREE

JORDAN (JJ)

G laring at Cooper’s backside, I stomped into the weight room behind him and Eli, chatting away like besties.

They’d been getting along well lately. But as much as I hated to admit it, Cooper was a decent guy.

If he weren’t, I never would have given him my blessing to date Myles.

I mean, at least he had the balls to ask first.

Cooper and Eli strode toward a leg press.

My gaze snagged on Holden, watching me with a smug grin on his face, and my chest tightened.

Had he thought he'd won our little pissing match? Fuck no. He’d probably find a way out of going to the gay bar with me. But hell, the guy filled out his athletic gear so damn well.

“Matthews, come over here.” Holden up-nodded at me.

“Anything you say, dear.” With a snigger, I strolled toward him.

“Dear?” Eli grinned at me while piling plates onto a bar.

“Yeah, it’s a term of endearment. Holden’s about to be my best buddy.” I narrowed my eyes at him. What did he have up his sleeve? And why was he focused on me? He was supposed to train more guys than just me.

Eli cackled .

“Hilarious.” Holden tsked. “After you warm up, I want you to try these IT band exercises.” He handed me a sheet that had been tucked under his iPad.

I scanned the sheet. Resistance band and BOSU ball work featured prominently on it. “Yeah, sure.”

“You’re not fighting me on this today?” He raised a brow, and the corner of his mouth ticked.

“Why, do you want me to?” I dropped the sheet to my side and leaned in closer, the fresh cinnamon scent of him gliding over me.

Goddamn, what body wash did he use? “Gay bar night is Saturday after the game.” That way, we both had Sunday to rest. Not that we’d be out late.

More than likely, we’d have a quick drink, take a photo and leave.

“Okay. I’ll be ready.” He offered a sly grin. “Anything special you want me to wear?”

Oh damn. I could up the game here. With my gaze raking over him, I said, “Yeah, something to show off your body. Most guys wear tight jeans or shorter shorts and crop tops. That sort of thing.” As the image of him in jean shorts and a crop top invaded my head, my cock plumped.

Fucking hell, my dick needed to stay out of this. But I was only human.

With a nod, he said, “Sure, I have stuff like that.”

“You do?” I arched a brow. “Are you sure you’re not queer?”

“I’m not fucking queer.” His brows lowered, and his gaze trailed over my body. “What are you wearing?”

“Uh…I don’t know yet, but I plan on showing off all my ass -ets.” I waggled my brows. I’d ensure lots of men hit on me and put him to work. “So, you better be ready to keep the guys off me.”

His lips pushed together. “Fine. I’ll be the best boyfriend you ever had.” He widened his eyes. “Shit, you know what I mean.”

“You'd better watch yourself. You might find me irresistible, just like Colton did.” What was I saying? Was I flirting with him now? I had to stop. Shuffling my feet, I said, “Anyway, I’ll, uh, get to work.” I strode to a stationary bike and started my warmup.

I had to inform the guys I’d be at the gay bar this weekend without them wanting to join me. After returning home, I left my bedroom for the main room. Casey and Eli sat on the couch, playing Madden on the big screen.

“Hey, want to join?” Casey said, his fingers flying over the controller.

“Naw, but I need to talk to you both.” I’d ruminated over this all afternoon and decided it would be best to come out with it. Sitting next to Casey, I said, “I’m meeting a guy at the gay bar on Saturday.”

“You what?” Eli’s brown eyes popped open, and he dropped the controller in his lap.

Casey paused the game. “Who?” He uncurled his arm over the cushion behind my shoulders.

“A guy. I don’t know. I met him in, uh, class.” Fuck, I should have thought this through better, but none of my roommates were in my classes. My pulse kicked.

“Want some backup?” Casey gave me a broad grin.

“No.” I huffed. It figured. Any excuse and Casey would hit the bar.

“Seriously? I can hide somewhere. You won’t even know I’m there.” His grin grew wicked.

“I said no.” I knitted my brows. “I don’t want you hanging out and watching me.” I had to talk him out of this. Would he show up anyway? Fuck. “Listen, you guys told me to go to the gay bar, and I am. I’m just going with a guy I met in class. Then?—”

“He won’t be as sweaty?” Eli burst out into a laugh. “Will you tell him to wash his dick before your date?”

“Stop it.” With a quick inhale, I rubbed my forehead. I’d never live that conversation down. “We’ll see if it gets that far, but at least he’s not some rando.”

“Wait, do you like this guy?” Casey set his controller on the coffee table and shifted to face me.

Fucking Holden? No, but my dick might disagree with that statement. Why though? I didn’t have a connection with Holden. “Maybe. I don’t know yet. He’s uh, he’s got an impressive body, and he’s smart.” I winced. Here I was, saying nice things about Holden, the guy I hated.

“Oh.” Casey’s brows raised under his dirty blond bangs. “So, he sounds like your type. You thought Myles was smart and had an impressive body, too.”

“Yeah, guess so.” And didn’t I like the way Myles smelled? I rubbed the heel of my hand across my chest. No, Holden was straight, and this was nothing. Holden would learn a lesson, and that was all.

“Okay, well, I hope this works out for you, bro.” With a warm smile, Casey patted my knee.

“Yeah, me too.” Eli glanced at the television. “Come on, Casey. I’m about to score here.”

“No, you’re not.” Picking up his controller, Casey started the game.

My job was done. I knew they’d tell the other guys and, hopefully, they’d leave me alone about the fucking gay bar.

And hookups. My heart about stopped. Shit, if I could keep this going and pretend Holden was my boyfriend, no one would ask me about Myles anymore.

But shit, it was Holden, and he’d never let the guys think he was queer.

Saturday night, I was on the field, and we were playing Baylor.

With two minutes left in the second quarter, we were ahead by a field goal.

Coach wanted another touchdown before we hit the locker room.

He wanted Baylor to feel defeated early on.

I lined up on the offensive line while Casey walked behind our center for the snap.

I glanced into the stands, lit up under a clear desert sky. The heat stifled me, despite my sweat-soaked uniform and gear. If I could get past this fucking defensive end and get open, the ball was mine.

Casey called out to the team, and the center snapped the ball to him.

Sprinting like my life depended on it, my arms pumping, I easily sped past the defensive end and turned. Would Casey see me?

Locking his gaze on mine, Casey ticked his helmeted head, drew his arm back and then rifled off a spiral right at my chest.

“Perfect.” Snatching the ball from the air, I tucked it into my chest and ran, twirling past a defensive back and a safety, the end zone in my sights. Fuck, I might just make it. A thirty-yard touchdown.

A Baylor player sped up on my left and stretched for me.

Holding the ball out, I jumped toward the end zone, but my shoe snagged, and I fell, tucking the ball again and rolling across the grass, stopping on my stomach.

The crowd roared, and the announcer shouted. “Touchdown!”

“Hell fucking yes.” I did it, right? I lifted my head. Sometimes the review could take it away from me.

A lead weight fell on my back, knocking the wind out of me, and my hip pricked.

“Fuck, get off me.” I gripped the ball to my side as strong fingers attempted to pry it from me. “The play is over, asshole.”

“Are you sure? It isn’t over until the ref calls it.” The Baylor player struggled to pull the ball from me.

“It’s fucking over.” I looked to the sidelines. Where were the refs?

Holden wrinkled his brows and paced along the field.

“Get off him. Fuck.” Eli ripped the guy from my back and tossed him. “The refs threw a flag, dude. You got a penalty for your team, asshole.”

The Baylor player jumped up and tore his helmet off. “What? It was a fair ball. It hit the grass before he got to the goal line.”

“Dude, replay.” Eli pointed to the Jumbotron as the touchdown went into review.

Carefully, I sat on my ass, my knees raised and handed the ball to a ref walking by. Was I hurt? My hip ached.

“Come on, that was the touchdown Coach wanted. Let’s get off the field.” Eli extended his hand, and I grabbed it. He pulled me up.

I flinched as a second of pain rippled from my hip to the outside of my knee. The pain subsided the more I moved. “Walk it off, JJ. You got this,” I mumbled to myself.

Meeting me at the sideline, Holden grabbed my arm. “Are you alright? You’re limping a little.”

“No, I’m not.” I tore from his grasp. “I’m fine. Just stung for a second. It’s not hurting at all anymore.” Okay, I was lying. But I wouldn’t let fucking Holden take me out of the game. I ripped my helmet off and strode toward the cooler. I just needed to hydrate.

Cooper jogged to me. “Hey, man, are you okay?” His brows knitted.

Great. “I’m fine.” Glancing into the stands, my gaze landed on Myles, sitting with some of the hockey players and a boyfriend or some shit. My chest puffed. I scored in front of Myles. I poured a drink into a plastic cup.

“Are you sure? That fucker dropped on you like a rock. He must weigh three-hundred pounds.” Cooper looked me over. “And you were limping.”

“I’m not fucking limping.” I glanced at Holden, pursing his lips and watching me. He didn’t need to hear that.

As I gulped the Gatorade, Holden strode to me. “Come on, you won’t be on the field until after halftime. Let’s get you into the medical area where we can assess you. ”

I turned and watched the kickoff. He was right. Unless we intercepted, the clock didn’t have enough time for the offensive line to go back out. But fuck if I’d leave the team now. I was fine. “No, I’m staying.” I glared at him.