Page 95 of Look What You Made Me Do

Ella smiled. Yes, they were. And no doubt better for having all their dirty linen hung out to dry.

A cheer exploded from behind her and Rosie leaped to her feet, yanking Ella with her as Deluca ran in their third touchdown. Trish rose too and they all hugged and cheered. When Ned quickly converted it for two points – his third conversion in a row – the cheer became a roar and Ella grinned as a puce-faced Tony Winchester went apoplectic.

Karma, baby.

Five minutes later, however, the high they’d been riding took a sudden nosedive. A collective gasp rang around the field at a sickening tackle perpetrated on Ned by two of Chiswick’s defensive tackles. The referee blew his whistle as Ned lay crunched in a heap on the ground.

Simon flew to his feet. “They’ve targeted him.”

Jake and Pete were running onto the field, followed by a stretcher bearer and a medic. Ella twisted her head to locate Ned’s parents already making their way down, their faces anxious. She turned in time to see Tony Winchester smiling and patting the shoulder of one of the Chiswick boys who’d been responsible for the dangerous tackle.

A minute later, Ned was on his feet but very groggy, being supported by the medic and Jake. The referee blew his whistle for a penalty, but Ella knew that Tony Winchester’s mission had been accomplished – they’d taken out Deluca’s best kicker.

The medics took Ned into the locker room, followed by his worried parents. “Is he okay?” Ella asked as Jake joined her and play resumed.

Jake gave a stiff nod. “A little concussed. They’ll take him to hospital, probably keep him under observation overnight.”

Tactically it was the worst thing Tony Winchester could have sanctioned, because now the Demons were just plain mad and they played the remaining fifteen minutes like they’d been born with their boots on. With one minute to go, the Demons were in an unassailable position.

Ella and Rosie had tears streaming down their faces as the whistle sounded and Ella laughed as the cameras caught Tony Winchester mid-tantrum, stomping off the field. The Deluca supporters went crazy, running onto the field, Ella included. Often, she hung back waiting for the excited throngs to have their time congratulating the team and the coach before she joined the fray.

Not today.

Ella fought tooth and nail to get to Jake and Cameron in the scrum of well-wishers. Jake had done it. She’d asked him to annihilate Tony Winchester and he had. And with Trish’s second salvo, the man was going to be utterly destroyed.

“Let me through,” Ella called, being jostled from side to side. Cam was further away and swamped – Jake was closer and she had him firmly in her sights. “Let me pass.”

Spotting Ella, he surged through the throng, grinning at her as she flung herself into his arms. “Let me be the first to kiss the coach,” she yelled over the hubbub.

“I hate to disillusion you,” Pete said. “You ain’t the first.”

“Oh, yeah?” Ella pulled Jake’s head down for a thoroughly X-rated smacker.

Pete laughed. “Okay, you’re the first to kiss him like that.”

“So, Jake, does it feel good to beat your old nemesis?”

Ella frowned at the familiar voice yelling to be heard over the top of the noise. Half turning in Jake’s arms, she met John Wilmott’s shrewd gaze. Her lips flattened.

“I thought that was you?” Jake said.

Wilmott laughed. “I think you know who I’m talking about.”

Jake paused for a beat as if he was carefully considering his answer. “It felt un-fucking unbelievable.”

The reporter laughed again. “Can I quote you?”

“I’d be amazed if you didn’t.”

Later that night, Ella lay in Jake’s arms in a post-coital drowse that was better than drugs. “That was exceptionally good,” she murmured, stroking her fingers down his arm.

“Honey,” he said, a smile in his voice, “winning-game sex is my forté.”

Ella laughed. “You’re pretty damn cocky, you know that?”

“But you like it.”

She did. She really did. She hadn’t thought of Pythagoras once the entire time he’d been back in her life.

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