Page 84 of Quarterback Sneak

“No. All the guys are wearing shirts. Period.” He looks pointedly at Quint.

Quint grins. “Got it.” He whistles loudly again. “Slate. Reid. Let’s go!”

“Evie, you know how to throw a football?” Zane asks, looking at me over his shoulder as he starts towards the back door.

“Oh, I’m good. I’ll just grab my book and—”

“So, youdoknow how to throw a football, or you don’t?” Zane interrupts.

“I was homeschooled, Zane, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know basic life skills. I knowhowto throw a football; I’m just not that great at it.”

Zane grins. “I like the way you think. Football is a good basic life skill everybody should master.”

I blow out a breath of air. “That wasn’t what I meant.”

“I know.” He opens the back door and heads out. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

“Let me go put sneakers on real quick,” I call out to him and head to my room. I quickly change into my sports bra, an athletic t-shirt, and a pair of shorts that I normally wear for running. I’m outside less than two minutes later. I take in the backyard. It’s huge. No wonder they like playing sports back here. It’s like the size of a regular soccer field.

“Hey,” Zane says, turning to me. “Let’s pra—” his words falter a moment, and I feel a moment of uncertainty.

I glance down at myself. “Is this not okay?”

He shakes his head. “No. No, you’re fine.” Then he seems to move past it. “Let me see your throw.” I grimace. It’s one thing to throw a football around with a friend. It’s another thingaltogether to throw a football to Zane Blackwood. “Come on,” he coaxes. “Before everybody gets out here.”

He does have a point. So, I do my best to wrap my fingers around the laces and throw it to him. It doesn’t even make it half the distance to him. “Ugh, that was terrible. Let me try again.” He chuckles and tosses it back to me easily. I try again, and this one’s a little better. It’s been a long time since I’ve thrown a football, and it shows.

“You’ve got a decent spiral,” Zane says as he walks towards me. “Here.” He places the ball in my hand and steps behind me.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

He steps close to me, putting his chest to my back. “Helping you. When you hold the football, spread your fingers like this.” I try to do as he says, but it’s really difficult when he is almost completely surrounding me in the very best way. His scent wraps around me almost as completely as his body does. “Then when you throw it...” I know he’s still talking, but I’ve lost complete focus on this conversation. All my body can focus on is the warmth of his body soaking into me and the hardness of his muscles surrounding me. It suddenly goes quiet, and I try to remember what he said last.Want to try?

I take a quick gasp of air. “Sure. Yes. Okay.” I grimace at my incoherent babbling and focus on throwing. Zane leaves me and walks over a few yards from me to catch. I miss his heat immediately. I misshim. I do my best to shake off those thoughts. “Ready?” He nods, and I throw it, trying to remember to do everything just like he showed me.

“Great,” he says, eyes shining.

The back door opens, and Reid, Slate, and Quint join us. “Okay. Sunday night game.” Quint rubs his hands together. “What are the teams?”

“I’ll probably be a detriment to my team,” I tell them, so they know.

“Evie, you’re on my team,” Zane calls out. “Catch.”

He throws it, and I don’t quite get my hands wrapped around it. It drops, and I feel my face flush. But I bend over and pick it up. I wrap my fingers around the laces and throw it back, doing my best to throw it the way he showed me.

Chapter 36

Evie

“That’s a pretty good throw,” Quint says, sounding impressed.

I am acutely aware of the fact that I am surrounded by four incredibly talented athletes. While I never played any official sports in school, I did have a neighbor next door that loved sports and always roped me into playing. Thankfully, one of his favorite things to do was throw the football back and forth. We’d go out into the street and take turns throwing it back and forth. Zane throws it back, and I watch it all the way to my hands now. My neighbor used to call me butterfingers because I always dropped it in the early days, but I got better over time. I throw it to Zane, and he cocks an eyebrow. “You can throw, Bennett.” I smile at the use of my last name. He throws it back, a little harder this time, but I still manage to get my hands around it. A grin lights his face. “Yeah, I’m totally taking Bennett.”

“Like she was going to be on anybody else’s team,” Reid says as he comes out onto the field.

“All right. How are we doing this?” Quint asks.

“How about I just cheer on the sidelines?” I offer.