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CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Alister

She’s watching him, and the worst part is I’m not even sure she realizes it, but she is.

He runs through the cones, his footwork somehow graceful despite his massive frame.

Just like with the ladder drills, he starts slow, showing me how to follow, what moves to make first, how the bend in my knee can determine my speed and overall delivery, things I’ve heard before, but watching someone his size do this?

Coach clearly knew what he was doing when he tasked him with helping me, forcing me to take note of where I have to improve.

With each pass through, Brady speeds up, and not once does he trip over what must be a size-thirteen shoe.

This shit is effortless for him and I’m over here knocking over cones and messing up the setup. Again, I fuck up, this time sending the cone flying in the air on purpose. Of course, that gets her to look my way, and I try not to make it too obvious she’s in my line of sight.

It’s hard to do when his number is draped across her, and if she were to turn, I know I’d find his name on her back because I have the same sweatshirt stuffed in the bag to her right.

Allana used to wear my letterman’s jacket all the time, and I wonder if Cameron understands what doing such a thing like wearing a name or number means to a man. She probably does, since she’s been around football players most her life.

But she’s never loved or been loved by one in that way, so maybe not .

Allana was always proud to show my name and number off, even though she was a year older than me.

That first year she was here at Avix, my senior year of high school, she came back several times, mostly during holiday breaks, but she managed to make a few of my senior season games, and each time, she’d have my name or number written across her in some way.

I’m not really sure when she started being unfaithful and stringing me along; all I know is, when I showed up on campus that first year, she was already cheating because she didn’t come home that summer. Summer school she’d said.

I should have seen the signs.

I should have let her go instead of doing what I did and allowing my hurt to turn to anger, then taking it out on other people—on the girl I think could have loved me the way I know I could have loved her.

My eyes slide to Cameron, but guilt has me quickly looking away. That damn hoodie swallows her whole.

The worst part is there’s no one to blame for that but myself. Too bad that fact doesn’t make this any easier.

When I first saw her here, I was excited. That lasted all of ten minutes when we stopped jogging around the room as a warm-up and her eyes no longer warmed my skin but rather shifted over to him.

I can understand why. It’s like I said—he’s effortless in his movements, his body fluid for a man his size, and he is a big fucker.

I’m not small, and I put a lot more time in the gym than I’d like to admit, but next to him I feel like the Robin to his Batman.

“You’ve got it down, man. Stop stressing.”

“I need to shave another second off my release. If I can’t do that, I’m never going to get a chance to fire the ball down field against Brighton on Saturday.”

“You’ll be fine.”

“Come on, Lancaster.” I shake my head, running my hands through my sweaty hair before wiping my palms on my shorts.

I don’t hold back my concerns. That will do us no good.

“We both know we’re not getting much for rushing yards against their defense.

We’re strong in receivers, but our running backs are lacking compared to theirs.

We have to play a passing game to stand a chance at winning,” I stress.

“That means if I don’t cut time off my own performance, the line will be broken through, and I’ll be on my ass, upping that asshole Jetson’s stats for every sack they make. ”

Brady grimaces, reality setting in. “Fuck.”

I scoff. “Yeah. How’d you like to lose your lead in the division to that guy when he’s playing your own damn team?”

He scratches his neck, his face tight in thought before his eyes meet mine. “I’ve got an idea, but you might have to back me up here.”

“I’m all ears, man. I’ve hardly touched the field this season, and with Mason coming back next week, who knows when I’ll get to play again after tomorrow? I need all the highlight reels I can get.”

Brady looks off before bringing his gaze back to mine.

“You’re doing good, Alister. Don’t let anyone tell you you’re not,” he forces out, but it’s easy to see it’s not because he is incapable of giving a compliment.

No, it’s another reason entirely—that and the man really doesn’t want to like me on principle.

“Just…keep your head up and all that.” His features tighten again as he looks at me, but he sighs a moment later, his shoulders falling as he heads toward the girl I want to call mine.

I stand there, staring, as he grabs her hand and hauls her to her feet like she’s nothing but a feather, her smile bright, hair now piled on her head.

She turns, bending to shove his things in his bag, helping him get ready to go without being asked, and when she stands again, he wraps his arms around her, his body cradling hers completely.

The laugh she lets out at whatever he tells her reaches my ears, and my chest tightens. It’s sweet and easy, so different from how she laughs with me now. The laughs I earn from her these days are thick and hard-won.

I force myself to turn away from the pair, piling the cones one on top of another before moving to put them back on the racks. I stand there a minute, staring at nothing and waiting to hear the door close, letting me know they’re gone, when my name is called.

I look over, and she’s not in his arms anymore but standing beside him.

Ken and Barbie.

“You coming or what?” Brady shouts.

My brows snap together, and I want to ask where and what he means, but I don’t. I just grab my shit and jog toward the new—hopefully fake—couple, letting Brady lead the damn way.

Cameron

“No.”

I wince at the sharp finality in the older man’s tone.

“But, Coach,” Brady tries again but stops when their coach raises his hands.

“You are not playing both ways, son. That’s too risky, and I need you on the defensive side until the final second ticks. You get hurt, and they’re going to get twice as many yards on us as predicted. I need you there to force the quick pass.”

“I’ll be good, Coach. I can do this,” he tries to assure him.

“You’ll burn out.”

“I’m a fucking stallion. I’ve got stamina for days.”

I choke on a laugh, and suddenly, several pairs of eyes land on me, even where I’m tucked away in the back corner. “Sorry,” I mumble, lifting the collar of the hoodie so it covers my mouth.

The coach narrows his eyes at me, then looks to Alister, Brady, and back to me. He takes note of what hoodie I’m wearing next. “I take it this is the girl…”

“Yes, Coach.” Brady looks my way, a gleam in his eyes that has mine narrowing. He winks and turns back. “Wanna ask her about my endurance?”

“Come on, man,” Alister complains.

Brady only laughs, and their coach scoffs, rubbing his hand along the back of his silver hair.

“Just think about it. Colorado’s got a guy doing it, and it doesn’t have to be every play.

I just need in there to protect Howl when we’re going deep and to give our receivers a chance to get down the field.

They hit their routes right, which they will, Howl will get the ball in their hands.

He can make the throw, probably with his eyes closed—he just needs that extra second.

Put me on the line and I can give him that. ”

Their coach looks between the two men, a slow nod of his head following. He pins Alister with his gaze. “Two weeks together and you’ve managed to gain full confidence from a man whose best friend is our first-string quarterback.”

Alister stands taller, and a small smile tugs at my lips.

“I hope that means something to you.” Their coach gives Alister a stern, fatherly expression.

“Yes, Coach,” Alister responds.

The man huffs, then waves his hand to dismiss them. “I’ll talk with the rest of the staff, but no promises.”

“Fuck yes.” Brady gives a hard jerk of his head.

They both thank him, and I sneak out first when Brady holds the door open.

In the parking lot, Alister turns to us.

I can tell he’s not sure what to say, his hands sliding in his pockets almost restlessly, and Brady, being the bighearted man he is, makes it a little easier on him.

“Watch game film tonight, man—ours and theirs. If they agree to this, and I think they will, they might have to call some unexpected plays. Make sure you’re prepared for that. Learn who your threats are based on what they run.”

Alister eats up his words, determined to learn the way he knows how.

He would have picked the basketball in his little test.

“I will,” he swears.

Brady nods, glancing between Alister and me. He holds my gaze a second longer, and I see the beginnings of a small frown forming along his forehead just before he turns and walks away.

He’s giving me a minute alone with Alister in case I need one.

The thing is, I don’t think I do, so I just curve my lips up at Alister. “Good luck tomorrow, not that you’ll need it,” I offer, jogging to catch up with Brady.

He’s tugging his door open as I reach him, his eyes widening when he realizes I’m right there, slipping under his arm and onto the seat.

He follows with a smile.

As we park in front of my dorm not five minutes later, I wait for him to meet my gaze. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being all the things I know you to be and more.”

He reaches over, hauling me up until I’m sitting sideways on his lap.

“Don’t give me too much credit, all right?

Coach pretty much forced me to work with him, and if I let him get his ass kicked tomorrow, it’s only gonna hurt the team.

I can’t have that. Mason secured us a spot in the playoffs, and I’m not going to let anything mess that up. ”

“I know.” I smile, twisting the strings of his hoodie around my finger. “Just like I know the kindness you’re showing him has nothing to do with what you just said.”

“Oh yeah?” he teases, tickling my sides lightly, making me squirm.

“Yeah.” I settle against the steering wheel at my side. “It’s a part of your nature and for my benefit. Layers upon layers, you have, Mr. Lancaster. ”

I’ve known this man since he wasn’t one, since we were babies, then gangly little kids, both he and I taller than the others for a few of our younger years.

I was awkward and he was strong.

He’s only stronger now—mentally, physically.

I wonder if there are still things I’ve yet to learn about him?

“What’s with the frown, pretty girl?” he murmurs.

My eyes lift to his, and it’s like there’s a little magnetic pull that wasn’t there a moment ago. It’s trying to tug me in closer, to whisper something I can’t hear, as if I’m a little too far away—only that makes no sense. I’m right here.

“Do you have secrets, Brady?” I ask suddenly.

Brady tenses beneath me, and it takes him a moment to respond.

“A couple,” he rasps, brown eyes bolted to mine as he almost unwillingly admits, “maybe one more now than I had before…”

He says it so softly, I almost miss it. I’m about to ask him before what, but he doesn’t give me the chance.

“Why do you ask?”

“Will you tell me one?”

I watch as an array of emotions wash over him—fear, uncertainty, anxiety, and the most confusing…guilt.

Suddenly, I don’t just want to know why all those worries rose at my question.

I need to know. “Tell me.”

“I’m not so sure I should.”

“Do it anyway.”

He inhales, long and deep, and I wonder if those gold flecks have always been in his eyes and I’ve just never noticed them before. “Not tonight.” He pushes my hair from my face.

“Not tonight, but some other time?”

His lips tip up but only on one side. “Yeah, Cammie Baby. Some other time,” he whispers.

And for the first time in my life, I’m not so sure I believe him.