Page 4 of Undeniable Love

“My brother’s an idiot,” she mumbled. “And I’ll hold a grudge forever where Jax Wylder is concerned. He ruined our lives!”

“Woo! That’s the way it’s done, Wylder! Yes!” another person cheered.

She groaned.

Loudly.

“Luce, come on. I think you have other things to focus on that are more important than…you know…that.” She nodded toward the TV. “Besides, it’s not like you’ll ever have to see him again.”

Except now the jerk’s face was filling the screen as some sideline reporter praised him for whatever play he just made. He was smiling and it was crazy how she felt more rage towards him than Blake.

Goes to show where my priorities are…

Gemma snapped her fingers in front of Lucy’s face, breaking her out of her reverie. “So what happens now? Where did you leave things with Blake?”

“I told him not to call me, my mother, or anyone. That no one was supposed to know what happened until I say so.” Then she sighed. “It sounded pretty badass at the time, but now…” And for the first time, tears stung her eyes.

“Oh, Lulu, come on. Don’t cry. We’re gonna get through this. I swear.”

And the thing was, Lucy knew she would. If anyone other than Gemma was sitting with her, she wouldn’t admit this, but her best friend was her vault. “You know the worst part about this?”

“I would imagine hearing them doing it.”

Lucy rolled her eyes. “No. I mean…that wasn’t great, but that’s not the worst of it.” Pausing, she swiped at a wayward tear. “The worst is that I’m going to have to tell everyone what happened. Blake will move on and have a fabulous life, and I’ll have people looking at me with pity while I stay stuck here with nothing.”

“Okay, I’m going to allow you to be dramatic because this all just happened, but you have to stop putting your life down. You are an awesome pediatric physical therapist, Lucy. Your patients adore you and no one’s keeping you here. If you wanted to move someplace else—someplace that seems fantastic in your mind—what’s stopping you?”

The list was endless.

“You and Blake were going to move to Raleigh or Chapel Hill or Charlotte,” Gemma reminded her. “Those were the top three, weren’t they?”

Sighing, she nodded. “I kept putting off agreeing to any of them because…”

“Because as much as you say you want to leave this small town, it’s still scary.” The sympathetic smile didn’t comfort her. “And that brings me back to my original question: what happens now? Do you need me to go home with you to face your mother?”

“That certainly wouldn’t hurt, but…” Raising her hand, she waved their waitress over. “But first, I’m having a bacon cheeseburger and fries.”

The game was over and Jax was exhausted, but the coach wanted to go over the game they’d just won. You’d think he’d let the team celebrate instead, but no. Aaron Floyd was a stickler about going over all the plays while they were fresh in everyone’s minds.

No matter how tired they all were.

It was one of the reasons the Wichita Warriors were on track for the Super Bowl again.

“Okay, listen up!” the coach called out from the podium of the Warriors auditorium. There was a massive screen behind him showing the video of the game. “Let’s look at this play right here. This was a crucial moment in the game. We had only two minutes left on the clock and the score was tied.” He pointed to the screen. “Our offense lines up in a shotgun formation, Wylder’s standing five yards behind the line of scrimmage, and Mason’s positioned to his right.”

Assistant coach Mike Ferraro stepped up to the opposite side of the screen. “Y’all were lined up just as we practiced, with Jones and Scotty split out wide on both sides of the field, and Ericson and Carter lined up on the left side of the offensive line.”

Jax fought the urge to sigh loudly. They could all see who was where and what they were doing. This narration was completely unnecessary, in his opinion, and after glancing around, it didn’t seem like anyone else was particularly invested in listening either.

“Now,” coach Floyd said loudly. “As Wylder calls out the signals, the defense adjusts, showing a blitz formation, indicating they might send extra pressure to disrupt the play. The offense, recognizing this, adjusts their protection scheme, with the offensive line communicating and making sure they pick up any potential rushers.”

There were some murmurs from pretty much everyone, but honestly, right now, all he was thinking about was going home, soaking in his hot tub, and getting some solid sleep. His whole body hurt and as much as he hated to admit it, his post-game recovery time was taking longer than it used to, and he wasn’t sure if he was even going to come back next season.

Not that he was ready to share that with anyone yet.

Well, he mentioned it to his brothers, but no one here in the Warriors world.

“At the snap,” the coach went on, “Wylder takes the ball from the center and drops back quickly, scanning the field for an open receiver.” He paused the screen. “Where the hell were you guys? No one was ready!”

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