Page 113 of Against The Rules

“We don’t have time,” I tell him. “I need to be in the locker room ASAP.”

“I just said we have an hour.”

“You might have an hour, but Rebecca expects everyone there thirty minutes early. She calls it ‘Beaver Cheer time.’” I’m frantically applying eyeliner, then shading my eyes as fast as I can. I pop magnetic lashes on over the eyeliner. “I need to leave as soon as I can.”

“How can I help?”

“Unless you can curl hair, there’s not a lot you can do.”

“That’s not one of my skills. Can I find your stuff for you? Do you have anything I can get ready?”

I exhale, trying to control my anxiety. I should have gone to bed earlier.

But then I wouldn’t have woken up next to Tyler.

“I could use a hug,” I say softly, setting down the blush palette and turning to him.

“That, I can do, Peaches.”

He folds me into his arms, and I try not to wipe my fresh face of makeup all over him. It takes me a second to relax, and when I do, I’m surprised at the question that pops out of my mouth.

“Does getting on the field and playing football make you happy?”

“Oh, Peaches,” he says, and his voice is sad, his arms tightening around me. “It does. It does make me happy, or I wouldn’t do it. I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t love it. You can put up with a lot of shit if you’re passionate about it.”

“Tyler,” I say, and my hands grip his shirt so tightly they start to ache. “I—”

I don’t know how to finish what I was going to say. I shouldn’t say it at all.

Instead, I stay quiet, letting him hold me, until my curling iron finally beeps, signaling it’s hot.

When I pull away, I stare up at him for a long time.

Tyler Matthews would be very easy to love.

CHAPTER 49

TYLER

Teenagers surround me, looking up at me like every word that drops from my mouth is gold. While Daniel and Kelsey are basically playing tag with a bunch of wild animals disguised as children, I’ve got the oldest set of kids, along with Jacob.

They’re a ragtag group, but for the most part they’re listening and doing what we say.

It could be worse.

If I wasn’t so fucking worried about Savannah, I might actually be able to relax and enjoy myself. The cheerleaders aren’t on the field with us though, because of course they’re not. According to Savannah, they’re in some of the VIP meeting rooms inside the stadium itself.

“Same drill,” I yell, “but faster this time.”

The kids do as I say, and Jacob comes to stand at my side.

“What happened?” he asks, his voice low.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re in a weird mood. Did she break it off?”

I gape at him, then remember I’m supposed to be watching a horde of hormonal teens run drills.

---