Page 32

CALEB

“Shit,” I grunt as I line up behind Nico, hearing the deafening crowd in the air.

This is it. The Titans have been running their mouths all month with their trash talk. And now? We’re face to face and they’re good. Fast. Relentless. They know how to keep up with us, but we’re not backing down.

No way in hell.

We’re in the third quarter. I glance at the scoreboard and the score’s 30-34, my pulse quickening. We can’t lose this. Not now. If we do, I’ll never hear the end of it, and worse, I’ll let my team down. I’m not doing that. Not when we’re this close.

Amelia’s up there in the stands and that thought alone twists the knot in my stomach tighter. She’s seen me play before, but this time it feels different, more intense.

The pressure builds, coiling in my chest as I jog backward, scanning the field. Carter’s running his route and he makes a hard cut grazing the sideline, giving me a clear opening. But their defense is on my ass, closing in on me.

I fake a right to get some space, throwing the ball on impulse. It was a split-second decision, and I sling it almost 47 yards down the field. It’s not my cleanest throw but it was all I had. The defense was too close and I needed to make something happen.

The ball spirals through the air as Carter jogs back, fingers stretching as he secures the ball.

I exhale as he bolts forward, pushing for extra yards. He’s at the 30 yard line almost to the end zone.

A linebacker charges him, grabbing Carter by the collar and shoving him out of bounds.

Illegal fucking hit.

“Yo, what the fuck!” I shout, ripping my helmet off as I dart toward the sidelines, adrenaline pumping through my veins.

The refs need to call that, there’s no way that was clean. Such a cheap shot.

My face twists in frustration as I approach the referee glaring at him as he deciphers what to do.

The whistle blows.

“Penalty Titans. Illegal tackle,” the ref announces, his voice cutting through the chaos.

I look over at a pissed-off Carter, who’s already on his feet, wiping his jersey and shaking off the hit.

“You good?” I slap him on the back as we all gather around the huddle.

“He’s lucky I’m in a good mood or I’d bash his fucking face in,” Carter mutters, leaning into the circle, fired up.

I’m right along with him. This is the energy we need, though. I’m heated.

I pull my helmet back on and look up at Coach, who’s even more pissed off than Carter, His face is flushed, veins prominent and popping out his neck as he yells at someone. Then, he locks eyes with me and hand signals for Play 27.

Quickly, I flip my wristband on my left arm for reference, checking the play call.

“Time to whoop some ass.” Marcus grunts, stepping into the huddle.

“Alright. East right slot, X-lock, clamp south, Y-dagger, run past three. Let’s go!” I clap my hands. They nod in sync and we break from the huddle, sprinting back into formation.

I take my position behind center, calling the cadence, as my pulse is thundering in my ears as I snap the ball. I drop back, my eyes sweeping across the field.

Marcus is running his route, cutting left toward the sideline.

The Titan’s cornerback is closing in on him fast, but I know Marcus has the speed to pull this play off. He’s at the ten-yard line, almost there.

I pull my arm back, launching the ball as it cuts through the air and Marcus leaps up, catching it before the cornerback gets him.

He secures it tight in his arm, then uses his free hand to shove the defender off, creating a bit of space. With a quick pivot of his foot, Marcus does a spin before they collide.

He sprints the last few yards toward the end zone.

Weight slams into me from the right side as I’m slammed into the turf, my left shoulder and helmet digging into the grass. A sharp pain shoots up my arm and I grunt as the linebacker sprints off down the field.

But I don’t even care about my shoulder, I need to know if we won.

I push myself up, wincing at the throb, clutching my shoulder tight. When I glance up, the LED scoreboard changes.

36-34.

The crowd’s cheers grow loud as I spot Marcus on his feet, doing a backflip, smashing the ball into the ground.

We won.

Tia and Amelia hurry toward me, slipping past the cameras and reporters. Amelia reaches for my arm gently, and I flinch at the sting.

“Are you okay?” they say in unison.

“You need to get this checked out,” Amelia insists.

“I’m fine.”

It’s nothing major. I’ve taken worse hits before, even though this still hurts like a bitch. They’ll wrap my shoulder up, and by the wedding, I’ll be fully recovered.

“Don’t try and be all macho about it,” Tia scolds, folding her arms. “You’re not missing out on Bahama fun with a broken shoulder.”

“It’s not broken.”

Tia jabs a finger into my injured shoulder. I hiss through clenched teeth, cursing under my breath and clutching it tighter.

“Still not broken?” she mocks.

“Where’s Amir? I prefer him over you.” I grumble, rolling my eyes.

Tia and Amelia walk me over to the sidelines as the medic waits for me.

Before I follow her inside, a smile tugs at my lips as I glance down at Amelia. “Nice to see you worried about me.”

“I always do.”

“Maybe you can kiss it to make me feel better?” I tease, half-hoping and half-begging.

She lets out a laugh, severing eye contact and fumbles with her jersey.

My jersey.

She doesn’t even know what she’s doing to me.

I want to tear it off her. My grip tightens around my shoulder.

I don’t know how long I can keep this fake dating shit up.

Later that night, I’m icing my shoulder when I check my phone and see a text from Carter in the group chat:

brOMANCE

Marcus and Carter came up with that last year. I’ve changed it multiple times and so has Nico, but somehow it keeps coming back.

Carter

That dipshit scratched the hell out of my neck.

Marcus

Poor baby.

Nico has left the conversation.

Carter

The fuck.

Carter added Nico to the conversation.

Nico

We don’t care.

Carter

I hope your bruise takes forever to heal.

Take that back.

Carter

Marcus is the only real one in this lame group.

Go back and watch Twilight. Because I know that’s what you’re doing right now.

Marcus

I’m loving this.

Nico

Bye.

Carter

nothing’s wrong with twilight.

Marcus

You’re watching it without me?!