Page 103 of Against The Rules

“Beavers,” we yell, and then we take the line of scrimmage, still as statues before the hike.

I take off like my ass is on fire, and if I get hit again this game, it might as well be. I don’t have time to worry about that shit, though.

One foot in front of the other. Gaze scanning the sky, looking for the ball.

There.

Fuck. I’m too far left. What the fuck?

I sprint right, towards the center of the field, the ball losing momentum as it arcs downward. Can’t let it get too low, too easy to pick off.

Fuck.

I race towards where the ball’s headed, slamming into the other team’s cornerback as I jump, high. He scrambles, arms locking around my waist.

The ball connects to my hands and I pull it in tight, curling around it.

My breath comes in fits and starts.

“TOUCHDOWN,” the announcer’s voice fills the stadium, and the crowd loses its mind.

“Fuck yeah,” I shout, shimmying, my attention immediately going to where the cheerleaders are on the sidelines.

I expect to see Savannah, grinning at me and cheering.

I don’t.

Daniel Harrison is down, the cheerleaders crowded around him.

“Looks like Harrison took out a cheerleader or two that time,” one of the announcers says, laughing.

My blood runs cold.

Fuck. Fuck!

I sprint for the sideline. I have to know if Savannah is alright. I have to know if he hurt her. If he fucking touched a hair on her beautiful head, I’ll fucking kill him.

My blood’s roaring in my ears, but someone grabs my arm, nearly spinning me around.

“Calm down, Ty,” Jacob shouts, right in my face. “She’s fine. He hit someone else.”

“I have to check,” I yell at him. “She’s my wife!”

“Then look for yourself,” he says in a desperate tone of voice. “But she’s standing up, he hit someone else.”

“Looks like it’s not a cheerleader, don’t worry everyone, your Beaver Cheer team is fine,” the announcer says.

A few of the redheaded cheerleaders move, and then I spot her bright blonde hair as she squats next to Daniel and whoever he ran into.

“She’s okay,” I say out loud. My hands clutch at the neck of my jersey.

“She’s okay,” Jacob agrees, clapping me on the back. “You did good, bro. Great catch.”

I exhale for what feels like the first time since Daniel called the play.

CHAPTER 42

BEAVERTOK

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