Page 34 of Red Zone (PCU Storm #2)

LYLA

I stare at my phone for a solid five minutes before I finally work up the nerve to call him.

It rings once. Twice.

“Hey.”

His voice is low and warm, and stupidly it already makes my chest feel lighter.

“Hi,” I say, trying to sound casual. “You busy?”

A beat of silence. Then a faint laugh. “For you? Never.”

I bite back a smile, fiddling with the hem of my sweatshirt.

“I was just wondering if you wanted to hang out for a little bit. Nothing big. Just…you know.”

His voice comes back, teasing now. “You asking me on a date, Harding?”

“Shut up,” I mumble, cheeks heating. “It’s just milkshakes or something.”

He laughs again, and I swear I can hear the smile in his voice when he says, “Be ready in five. I’m picking you up.”

Before I even hang up, my heart’s racing like I sprinted a mile.

Five minutes later, true to his word, his Jeep rumbles to a stop in front of my apartment.

I grab my jacket and slip outside, tugging the hood up against the night air.

When I slide into the passenger seat, he just glances at me with that lopsided grin of his and mutters, “Hey, Red.”

I roll my eyes. “Hey, Hayes.”

We don’t say much as he pulls onto the main road, his hand draped loosely over the gearshift, the faint hum of the radio filling the quiet.

It’s nice.

Simple.

Exactly what I needed after today.

When we pull into the little diner on the edge of town, the one with the faded neon milkshake sign, Carter glances at me with a faint smirk.

“Vanilla or vanilla?”

I arch a brow. “Who says I’m getting vanilla?”

“Because you always do.”

I pretend to look offended. “Not true.”

He just shakes his head and gets out, rounding the Jeep to open my door before I can even move.

And okay. Maybe I let myself smile at that, just a little.

A few minutes later, we’re back in the Jeep, milkshakes in hand. I take a long sip of the salted

caramel cookie crunch, my favorite, letting the sweetness settle before I finally work up the courage to ask.

“So…” I start slowly.

Carter glances at me out of the corner of his eye, a straw between his lips. “So?”

I chew on the edge of my straw for a second, then blurt, “What happened in the locker room after the game?”

That earns me a raised brow.

“Why?”

“Because…” I hesitate, then sigh. “Jaxon came over. And he was upset. Like, really upset. Madison tried to talk to him, but he wouldn’t say much. He just shut down. I figured they needed some privacy, so I just hung outside until you came.”

Carter’s jaw tightens slightly as he stares at the road ahead.

“Something happen with him?” I press gently.

Carter exhales slowly, his grip tightening on the steering wheel.

“Some dumbass decided to run his mouth about Madison. Jax handled it.”

My stomach twists. “Handled it how?”

He glances at me, then back at the road, a wry smile tugging at his mouth.

“Let’s just say I’ve never seen a locker room go that quiet, that fast.”

I shake my head, the ache in my chest deepening. “I just…I hate that he was hurting. He doesn’t usually let it show like that.”

For a second, Carter doesn’t say anything. Then his hand drops from the wheel, resting lightly over mine where it sits in my lap.

“He’s got her,” he says quietly. “That’s all that matters.”

I glance at him, my heart doing that annoying little flutter thing it does whenever he surprises me by being serious.

I turn my hand over and slip my fingers through his and don’t let go of his hand.

Not for the rest of the drive.

I almost don’t notice when he turns off the main road, the streetlights fading behind us as we bump down a narrower lane toward the water.

It smells like salt out here, like brine and cool air, and the faint roar of waves grows louder with every turn of his tires.

I glance at him, but he just keeps his eyes on the road, his free hand draped over the steering wheel like he’s been here a hundred times before.

A few seconds later, the pavement gives way to gravel, and he eases the Jeep into a small, half-lit lot at the end of the road.

Beyond it, I can see the long, dark line of a jetty stretching into the ocean. The rocks glisten faintly in the moonlight, and the waves crash rhythmically against the shore, filling the Jeep with peaceful sounds.

Carter throws it into park and cuts the engine, leaning back in his seat with a little sigh like he’s been waiting to get here all night.

“This is nice,” I say quietly, glancing out at the water.

“Yeah,” he says, and I can hear the faint smile in his voice, even though I don’t look at him yet.

“Not a lot of people come out here this late. Just the waves, the rocks…and you.”

I glance over at that, rolling my eyes just enough to cover the way my cheeks heat.

“Do you always ruin nice moments like this?” I mutter, taking another sip of my milkshake.

He chuckles softly. “Not always. Just when you’re here to see it.”

For a minute, we sit in comfortable silence, the only sounds are that of the ocean and the faint slurp of his straw as he polishes off the last of his shake.

We sit there for another long minute, the waves crashing in steady rhythm outside the Jeep.

Eventually Carter leans back again, his fingers drumming lazily on his empty milkshake cup.

“You know,” he says finally, glancing sideways at me. “You don’t have to feel sorry for Jax. He’s tougher than he looks. And Madison’s the only thing that gets under his skin like that.”

I smile faintly at that, shaking my head. “Still. I’ve never seen him like that before.”

“Well…” Carter smirks, tossing his cup into the backseat. “That wasn’t the only fun part of the night. Your dad also wanted a word with me.”

That makes me blink, my head snapping toward him.

“My dad?”

Carter shrugs like it’s nothing. “Yeah. He called me into his office after the game.”

I gape at him. “Oh my god. Why didn’t you lead with that?”

He grins, clearly enjoying himself.

“What happened? Did he—did he say something?” I press, sitting up straighter.

Carter leans an elbow on the steering wheel, his expression faintly smug.

“I thought he was going to,” he admits. “Swear to god, my stomach dropped as soon as he shut the door. I almost outed myself right there, like an idiot. Started rambling about how it wasn’t planned and how I didn’t mean to cross a line?—”

I clap my hand over my mouth, but the laugh still bursts out anyway.

“Oh no,” I say between giggles. “You caved under pressure before he even accused you of anything?”

Carter shoots me a mock glare, but his grin is quick to follow.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, Princess. Glad the possibility of my dick being removed from my body is so funny to you.”

I relax back in my seat, still grinning, and sip the last of my milkshake.

“So what did he actually want?” I ask once my laughter dies down.

Carter’s smirk fades into something softer as he looks out at the ocean, the moonlight making the sharp lines of his face look even more defined.

“He said NFL scouts are already asking about me. That teams have been calling him for film.”

That pulls me up short.

“Oh,” I say quietly, my chest tightening a little.

He glances at me, and there’s something almost shy in his expression.

“Didn’t really feel real until he said it,” he admits.

I watch him for a second, his jaw tight, his fingers flexing against his knee like he doesn’t quite know what to do with the weight of it all.

And it makes me feel…weirdly protective.

“Well,” I say softly, bumping his shoulder with mine. “Guess you better keep your head on straight then, huh?”

He glances down at me, his grin tugging back into place. “What, you don’t think I can handle the pressure?”

I tilt my head, giving him a mock-serious look. “Hmm…jury’s still out on that one.”

He laughs, shaking his head.

Then his smile fades a little, and he leans closer, his voice dropping low.

“But seriously, Lyla—this thing between us—is it what you want?”

I freeze for just a second, his words sinking in as his gaze searches mine.

Do I want this?

I swallow, my fingers twisting in my lap before I finally meet his eyes.

“I…” My voice comes out softer than I mean for it to. “I do. But we’ll have to keep it quiet. For now. Between your spot on the team and…and my internship…it’s just safer that way.”

He studies me for another long moment before he nods, leaning back again.

“Fine,” he says with a little shrug, but there’s a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Guess I can play secret boyfriend for now. Sneaking around is kinda hot.”

I roll my eyes at the term, but my cheeks warm anyway.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Hayes,” I mutter, trying not to smile as I turn back toward the waves.

But I can still feel his gaze on me, steady and warm, like he already knows what I won’t say out loud yet.

By the time we pull back into my apartment complex, the milkshake cups are long empty and the radio is playing low in the background.

Carter cuts the engine but doesn’t move to get out.

Neither do I.

The lot is quiet at this hour—just a few scattered cars and the glow of the streetlight casting long shadows on the pavement.

I glance at him, but he’s leaning back in his seat, one hand draped over the wheel, the other resting lazily on his thigh.

Like he’s in no rush to go anywhere.

And neither am I.

The air in the Jeep is warmer now than it was earlier, but a faint chill still seeps through the cracked window, carrying with it the smell of salt and asphalt and him.

We sit there in silence for a while, watching a stray cat dart between cars, listening to the faint hum of the streetlight.

Eventually, he shifts in his seat, turning his head just enough to look at me.

“You gonna tell me what you’re really thinking right now?” he asks, his voice low and easy.

I glance at him, startled, and find his eyes already on mine.

The corner of his mouth curves up slightly, but it’s not the cocky smirk I’m used to.

It’s softer.

Like he already knows he’s gotten under my skin.

I hesitate, then turn in my seat to face him fully, tucking one knee under me as I lean back against the door.

The streetlight catches on the faint scruff at his jaw, on the shadows in his eyes.

And before I can even think about stopping myself, I ask quietly, “Do you ever wonder what happens if we get caught?”

He studies me for a long moment, then lets out a light chuckle, shaking his head like the thought doesn’t scare him at all.

“Not really,” he says simply, his gaze still locked on mine.

And somehow, that answer scares me more than anything.

I lean back against the seat, still facing him, my shoulder pressing lightly into the door.

The silence stretches again, but this time it feels different.

Not heavy. Not uncomfortable.

Just…full.

And when his lips part, like he’s about to say something else, I hold my breath—waiting.

“Tell me something no one else knows about you. Something you think no one would care to know or care about.”

I laugh, getting more comfortable before answering him. We talk for hours, about anything and everything. From the dreams we have for our futures to our favorite colors and bands.

When I quietly shut my bedroom door later that morning, it’s only a few hours until the day begins, and I can’t wait to see him again.