Page 16 of Scars of Anatomy

Homecoming

The sound of lockers slamming echoes off the walls as Coach calls us in for a group huddle. Everyone gathers around to form a circle, all eyes on him.

“Boys, I don’t have to remind you how important this game is,” he says, his eyes, almost hidden by the brim of his cap, sweeping over every single one of our faces. “We’ve been busting our asses for weeks to prepare for this. Now let’s go out there and win this thing!”

Cheers erupt throughout the room, everyone getting pumped up and putting their game faces on. Shortly after we all file out of the locker room and into the tunnel that leads to the field.

Coach stops me just at the door, gripping my shoulder.

“Kick ass, Miller,” he tells me quietly, his eyes stern and proud.

“You got it, Coach.”

He slaps me on the shoulder and follows me out to the tunnel, where I find my teammates jumping up and down or restlessly moving around on their feet, getting hyped up for the homecoming game, which just so happens to be against our biggest rivals.

I scan the group for Chase, finding him toward the front of the pack. His arm healed just in time for the big game but Coach is still going to ease him back into it, not giving him much field time. I know Chase is bummed about it, but it’s a miracle he’s getting to play at all.

I lock eyes with him. He stares back at me with intensity and gives me a nod, determination written on his face.

I make my way to him, smacking hands and bumping helmets before heading to the front of the line, adrenaline coursing through my veins.

I crack my knuckles, stretching a bit while I anxiously wait for the announcer to call us. As soon as he does, the crowd erupts and we run onto the field, busting through a banner to hype up the crowd.

We gather on the sidelines, and my eyes immediately scan the crowd for a particular brunet.

I find her almost instantly, ten rows back on our team’s side of the field, in the center of the packed stadium.

Although I was afraid I’d lose her in the sea of maroon, I know I’d eventually find her in any crowd.

Her text telling me where her seats were beforehand just helped.

Our eyes lock, causing me to smile instantly. But my smile quickly fades almost as fast as it came when I realize she’s sandwiched between Delilah and Rat Boy.

My mood instantly plummets. Why in the hell is he here?

My hands curl into involuntary fists at my sides, my skin heating with anger despite the crisp October air. He looks bored, like he’d rather be anywhere else, and damn I wish he was. He probably only came here to keep tabs on Olivia, the obsessive little rat.

To make matters worse, when my eyes flick back to Olivia I find her not in my jersey. Instead, she’s wearing a maroon Garner University pullover.

I instantly frown, crossing my arms over my chest, irritated.

Sensing my bad mood, she pinches her brows together in confusion, and she does that adorable little head tilt.

“Where’s my jersey?” I yell, even though it’s impossible for her to hear me over the crowd.

“What?” I see her yell, her brows pinching even closer together and eyes squinting, trying to decipher what I’m saying.

I take off my helmet.

“Jersey!” I yell, gripping the collar of the jersey I’m wearing between my thumb and forefinger, tugging at it to signal to her.

Her eyes clear in realization, and she straightens. Reaching down, she grabs the hem of her pullover and tugs it up to flash me my jersey, which she’s wearing underneath.

I bite the inside of my cheek, trying my best not to smile at seeing her wear it. But I wanted to really see her wear it, loud and proud. Not under some damn pullover.

I shake my head, crossing my arms back over my chest, my stance firm. “Uh-uh.”

Her lips form into a cute, confused pout, and damn does it make it hard for me to be mad at her.

“Over the pullover!” I instruct.

Her pout becomes more prominent. “Then I have to change,” I’m almost positive I see her mutter. She also adds something about it being cold out.

I shake my head, not letting up. A bet is a bet, and I’ll be damned if she doesn’t hold up her end.

“Over. The. Pullover.” I point sternly to the restrooms where she can go change.

I watch as she heaves out an exasperated sigh, arching a dark brow as if to ask Really?

I don’t back down, staring at her intently. She’s crazy if she thinks I’m going to let this slide.

After a few moments she realizes I’m not going to give up, and our little showdown ends. Shoulders sagging in surrender, she taps Delilah on the shoulder, asking to get by. She shimmies her way down the row past people to the stairs.

When she reaches the bottom of the stairs she flashes me an exasperated, but fond, good-natured look, childishly sticking her tongue out at me.

Two can play at this game.

Smirking, I pucker my lips and blow a kiss at her.

She falters a bit, her eyes widening and cheeks burning an undeniable shade of red, making me laugh. Adorably flustered, she hightails it to the restrooms, her long ponytail swishing back and forth behind her as she practically sprints.

Amused, I turn my attention back to the field, watching all the pregame activities go down. I turn back around just in time to just catch Olivia coming back from the restrooms, my jersey on full display over the pullover.

My heart seems to do a backflip in my chest.

They say one of the hottest things ever is when a girl wears your clothes, especially your jersey, and with her . . . fuck .

The maroon fabric hits her midthigh, loose and flowy on her tall, willowy frame.

Damn, what I would give to see her in it and nothing else.

I can only imagine how long and lean her legs would look peeking out, maybe her hair a bit tousled around her shoulders as she sits on my bed.

. . . But for now I’ll have to settle for her wearing it with dark jeans and a pullover underneath.

Halfway to the bleachers, she lifts her eyes to capture mine.

She gives me that slow, shy smile, and it takes everything in me not to run to her.

To grab her face in my hands and kiss the absolute hell out of her.

But I know I can’t do that. Not here. Not now.

That would be too aggressive. I’d want to take my time with her, savor every precious moment.

One day , I think.

All hot and bothered, I turn my focus back to the field, trying not to let my eyes drift over to her too much.

After the coin toss and accurately calling heads, I jog back over to the sidelines, stealing a quick glance at Olivia to find her back on the bleachers between Delilah and Rat Boy, eyes glued on me.

I throw her a grin, and shortly after I see someone approaching me from my peripheral vision.

“Hey, Bronx.”

I turn my head just as Adrianna’s fingertips graze my bicep, running down my arm to squeeze my forearm. Those piercing green eyes sparkle with mischief and a hint of trouble.

“Have a good game,” she says, purposely making her voice low and raspy to sound seductive. She stands on her tiptoes, planting her lips on my neck as high as she can manage with my helmet on. Her lips lightly suck at the skin, her tongue poking out to softly lick.

I quickly recoil, taking a step back.

She lets out a soft chuckle, a naughty smirk on her plump, glossy lips. “I’ll catch up with you later to celebrate,” she promises before sashaying away, back to the dance team.

Cursing under my breath, I bring my hand up to where she kissed me and try to wipe away the lingering burn of her lips. And it isn’t the good type of burn. Not anymore.

I quickly glance over my shoulder to look at Olivia.

Her eyes are cast down, her shoulders slumped while Rat Boy’s beady little eyes seem to glitter in delight.

I lock eyes with Delilah, and she looks disappointed, frowning at me.

I give her a helpless look, not knowing what else to do.

It wasn’t my fault, and I certainly didn’t reciprocate Adrianna’s actions.

Beyond frustrated, I’m relieved when the whistle blows and I have to get my ass out onto the field, where I can blow off steam.

Game on , I think.

The game goes as expected. We have to put in the maximum amount of effort to stay ahead of the other team, giving the crowd quite a show to hopefully pull out a win.

With less than twenty seconds on the clock, the score tied, I’m hiked the ball.

I catch it with ease and my eyes immediately dart to my teammates, calculating.

Everyone is blocked, but there is a small break straight to the end zone.

With no choice, I rush the ball, and the crowd goes absolutely nuts.

Approximately ten yards away from the end zone, one of the opposing players breaks free, blocking my path.

I try to dodge him but he lunges, his shoulder ramming into my side and throwing me off balance.

But somehow I’m able to maintain my footing; that is until another player dives, catching me by the ankle.

I stumble forward, stretching as far as I can, and manage to land the ball over the line for a touchdown, solidifying our win.

Everyone erupts into cheers, and suddenly, like magic, before I’m even fully back up on my feet, a cooler full of Gatorade is dumped over my head, soaking me.

Everyone seems to attack me all at once with back slaps and chest bumps, and sometime during the mix, my teammates lift me onto their shoulders, chanting.

I take the opportunity to scan the crowd, finding the one person I’m looking for.

I point to her, grinning uncontrollably.

Olivia smiles, looking excited and proud, clapping. Delilah stands beside her, cheering us on, while Rat Boy looks like he wants to drag the both of them out of here as fast as he can.

Too bad .

“Wait for me!” I call to Olivia as the team heads to the locker room with me still on their shoulders, leaving me no choice but to go with them.