Page 71 of Sin

Granted, neither my brother nor Brayden—their teammate who is sitting across from us now—have mentioned anything about Ethan and I since we arrived here over an hour ago. I’m not even sure if Noah has noticed the giant number forty-four across my chest.

How dense is my brother?

“Ethan, you’re going to seal it tonight,” Brayden says. “I’m calling it now. You’re getting picked in the first round.”

Ethan snorts as he grabs the receipt at the center of the table. He shifts in his seat before pulling out a leather wallet from his back pocket. “Not likely. Even getting picked in the second round would take an act of God.” He turns to me with his usual stern expression when I reach for my purse. “I’m paying for you.”

I shoot him an innocent frown, mischief sparking within me. “Why would you do that?”

His face stays stoic, but his eyes flash with something that promises retribution later. My tummy flutters at the thought of what it might be. Maybe a harder spanking than last time.

“You’re wearing my jersey,” he says. “It’s customary that I pay for your meal.”

“Customary?” I glance around the table. “Is that really true?”

Brayden’s eyes grow wide—as if he’s uncomfortable—but Noah only shrugs. “Either me or Ethan can pay for you,” he says. “We both know what a hardship it is for you to come to a football game. If we pay, we expect you to keep your phone in your pocket and actually watch the game.”

I snort. Either Ethan or me can pay for you, like they’re both my older brothers. Gross. If Noah had even an ounce of intuition, he would notice how sharply Ethan’s behavior toward me contrasts with what it was just a few weeks ago.

During our whole lunch, Ethan’s eyes haven’t strayed from mine. When I couldn’t decide between the Western or the jalapeno burger, he ordered both so we could share, claiming they both sounded good—the adorable liar. My big guy even made me drink a full glass of water—damn him—like he’s been doing constantly these past few days while I recovered from my fever.

Anyone with eyes could see that Ethan is fucking my brains out behind closed doors, but my brother was never the brightest bulb in the emotional intelligence box.

“No, I’m getting this, Noah,” Ethan says, his voice clipped.

He tosses his card onto the bill tray. There’s something proprietary about the casual movement, and for the first time, something like recognition sparks in Noah’s eyes. His gaze darts between me and Ethan for a moment, his expression thoughtful.

In a flash, the look is gone. “Whatever,” Noah says as he grabs his own wallet.

There’s a heaviness in the stadium, and it makes my whole body buzz with anxiety.

Fuck, I wish I understood football better. I know the other team scored, but why has everyone around me grown so gloomy and dejected? The clock says there’s still four minutes left. I thought that was a lot in football time.

The girl in front of me twists around, her expression full of anxiety. “I’m dying,” she says.

“Me too,” I say, but it’s a lie. I don’t know enough to be dying. What the hell is going on? “I don’t really know all the rules, but it seems bad.”

She laughs. “That was a crucial third down. We’re out of timeouts. They’re just going to run the clock down now. We’d need a miracle to turn this around.”

I nod, even though her words are gibberish. My gaze flickers to Ethan. I can’t see his face with that big helmet covering it, but his body looks defeated.

Poor guy. He hates losing.

The clock ticks down relentlessly. Three minutes. Two minutes. I don’t have a clue what’s going on, but I know it’s bad. Everyone around me is groaning and sighing. Then, with just over a minute left, something happens that makes the crowd cheer and come alive. It seems like the Hawks have a chance again. Ethan takes his position on the field, and my heart pounds in my chest.

You can do this, big guy.

The ball is thrown to Ethan, and he runs like his life depends on it. He jumps to catch it, but a player from the other team crashes into him, and the ball slips from his hands. He falls to the ground, and the crowd around me groans in unison.

The stadium falls into a heavy silence, and my heart jumps into my throat as Ethan slowly gets up from the ground.

At least he isn’t hurt.

The clock ticks down to zero, and the game is over. The Hawks lost.

My heart aches for my big guy. I’ll have to give him some extra love tonight.

He walks off the field toward the tunnel, and I stand up and grab the railing in front of me. Just as I open my mouth to call out to him, my throat freezes. Mason approaches him on the sidelines. He says something, and Ethan’s head snaps in his direction. They exchange words, and Ethan’s posture grows stiff and aggressive.

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